Curiouser (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 3)

by Coryell, Christina

  Within a few seconds she’s ready to go, and Jake pauses by the door just long enough to allow me to make my way to them. When I reach Bailey, she slides her hand into his, and I smooth my hand over her silky brown hair.

  “I’m going to take her to dinner and a movie,” he softly states, “but I’ll have my cell on me the whole time. If you need anything, call me. I’m serious.”

  The thought of Jake going all big-brother on me again immediately makes me self-conscious. “Is it that bad, really? I can change.”

  His eyes sweep over my dress before he focuses on my face again. “You’re kidding me, right? No way did you look in the mirror and think for one second that you’re not absolutely gorgeous. And just in case he doesn’t tell you that, I’m just going to put this out there so it pops into your head later: He’s an idiot. There, I said it.”

  “Jake,” I mutter, looking down at my hands. He doesn’t have to tell me he doesn’t like Cody. I can tell, and I’m sure it’s because he sees his time with Bailey dwindling. But it’s just one date, and it probably means nothing.

  “Tell your mom bye.” He presses Bailey forward, and she wraps her arms around my thighs, squeezing tight enough that I almost lose my balance.

  “Bye Mommy.”

  And just like that, Prince Charming and Cinderella walk out of my life, leaving me here like a discarded pumpkin, overdressed and with a noticeable absence of singing mice to lift my spirits.

  Cody presses his hand to the small of my back as we make our way to the table, following a waiter who has three pieces of jewelry studding his eyebrow. If I didn’t feel overdressed before, when Cody showed up at the house wearing dark-washed jeans and a blue T-shirt with three buttons at the collar, I do now. The instant he pulled up in front of the casual chain restaurant, my heart sank. If we were hanging out like old times and sharing mozzarella sticks and nachos in front of a big screen watching football, this would be perfect. But this is supposed to be a date, right?

  Not that I’m trying to be a snob, even if I have a designer label on my dress that I never would have looked at before today. But I haven’t seen Cody in years, and if we’re trying to catch up and see where things stand, it would seem there would be a more ideal location where people wouldn’t be screaming at the television screen. Or pounding back shots of tequila. Or having the birthday song sung by six waitresses while they tie balloons on the patron’s chair.

  Those arguments don’t cross my lips, though, as we reach our table. It’s right in the middle of all the commotion, where I awkwardly sidestep a tray of food that’s being maneuvered around a high chair.

  Our table would seat four, but rather than sit across from me, Cody settles himself by my side. After the waiter takes our drink orders, I busy myself looking at the menu, but when I glance up, Cody’s staring at me.

  “What?”

  He offers that familiar crooked smile while he shrugs his shoulders. “Nothing, you just look better every time I see you.”

  “Thank you.” I quickly settle on an entrée in my mind and place my menu on the table, folding my hands together in my lap. “So, what made you decide to go into law enforcement?”

  The waiter delivers our drinks, so the conversation is put on hold while we order our food. As soon as he disappears with the menus, though, Cody places his elbows on the table and looks over at me.

  “Just kind of fell into it, I guess. Dad’s always been a cop.”

  Somewhere deep inside I probably knew that. He lived with his mother in Tennessee, and his father was in Michigan. But he didn’t like to talk about his dad back then, and he certainly never mentioned following in his footsteps.

  “What about you?” he asks, taking a sip of his soft drink. “What are you doing with yourself, besides being a mom?”

  A slight smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “I teach high school algebra.”

  “Shut up, you do not.”

  “I do, actually. I figured if I could get you through four years of math, I could teach just about anybody.”

  “There’s probably a lot of truth to that.” He turns slightly so he’s facing me, draping his arm over the back of his chair. “And here I thought you took all those math classes just to be close to me.”

  “Hardly,” I counter, swirling my straw around the bottom of my glass.

  “Yeah, I guess that was the other way around.” When I look up to search for a teasing grin, I find it right where I expected it. “It’s a good thing we had Mr. Samuels for math. If we had a math teacher that looked anything like you, I might have failed big time. Or I might have become a mathematician. I certainly would have been inspired.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I gotta tell you, I never was much interested in math. Except for maybe one plus one, where you were concerned.”

  The slender fingers of his right hand curl around his glass, and I watch them fastidiously, thinking of a way to divert to a new topic of conversation. I’m not ready to talk about us yet.

  “I’m a little surprised you’re not seeing someone,” I say, searching for new ways to steer the conversation. It’s a valid topic. An attractive man who wears a uniform every day is likely to invite female attention.

  “Oh, I had a girlfriend for a while. A little over a year, but it didn’t work out. We broke up last month. Turns out that’s perfect timing, though, because I never expected to run into you.”

  “Well, hopefully we won’t have to meet that way again. I’ve been watching my speed very carefully.”

  He laughs as he brings his hand over to place it on my shoulder, rubbing his thumb across the sheer fabric on my arm. The goose bumps break out in full force again, which doesn’t surprise me. Cody’s touch has always caused a reaction.

  “Is it cold in here?” I ask, trying to evade the obvious by rubbing my hands down my arms.

  “Not really.” He pulls his hand back, settling it on the table. “What is it with girls always being cold?” I simply shrug my shoulders as he takes another drink of his soda. “Oh, there’s a club up the road I thought we could hit after dinner. They have a live band on Saturday nights, but it’s not that bad on Fridays. Mostly heavy metal music, but I know you love that.”

  Eh, Cody loved that. We always had the radio tuned to the local metal station because it’s what he wanted. I kind of like a country song myself. Or a symphony orchestra. The occasional screaming guitar, but it has to be well crafted.

  I’d like to protest that I’d rather go somewhere quiet and talk, but I find my lips saying, “Sure.” Complete and utter betrayal of my inner feelings. I vow to bring them into submission for the rest of the evening.

  “Do you remember when I caught that pass in the fourth quarter when we played the Bulldogs? Senior year?”

  I nod my head, because I do. It was a spectacular catch, and I screamed so loudly I had a hard time using my voice the next day. Even Cody couldn’t believe he still had the ball when he came up off the ground after hitting so hard. He practically soared through the air to make that happen, and it was visually beautiful.

  “You know Sean had a video of that?” He laughs as he raises his eyebrows. “He had no idea, but his dad had it with a bunch of stuff he recorded when they installed their pool. Just a bunch of Sean’s dad walking around talking about a big hole in the ground, and then, boom! There’s twenty minutes or so of the game, then right back to his grandma talking about her cat during Christmas or something. It was hilarious, but he recorded it for me. I have it at home if you want to see it sometime.”

  I manage to smile enthusiastically, despite the fact that I don’t care about Sean’s pool or his grandma’s cat. I don’t even have a desire to see Cody’s catch again, to be honest. Most things that I have built up in my mind as spectacular wind up not being quite so great, when inspected in the light of day. I’m afraid that wonderful catch might rank as one of those.

  The waiter saves me from answering by placing our food on the table. I unroll my paper napkin fr
om around my silverware and pick up my fork, glancing at Cody to find him gazing at me. Without bothering to ask anything, I simply stare back at him.

  “Man, Alexis, you were pretty in high school but you’re a whole new level now.” He offers one more lopsided smile before he picks up his own fork. “I’m thinking it’s a good thing we didn’t hook up back then. You’re worth the wait.”

  Two hours of music so loud I could feel the beat pounding through my chest, not to mention standing on my feet in these new shoes, and I’m so finished. Cody doesn’t even have to ask me twice if I’m ready to go. I was ready within two minutes of arriving in the place, when Cody excused himself to go to the restroom and a man with a skull tattoo across his neck decided it was appropriate to feel the sequins at the hem of my dress. It took a second of him rubbing his hand across my thigh for my brain to even register enough to push him back, and he simply laughed. Said something crude that I didn’t repeat to Cody, and I won’t detail for anyone else.

  There was no mistaking the fact that I was overdressed, and I’m not sure how Cody missed it.

  Well, I take that back. There was one woman wearing a shimmery gold dress that had a neckline that plunged to her belly button and a slit that reached clear up her thigh to where her underwear should have been, had she been wearing any. But I don’t think she was there for the music. I’m pretty sure she was looking for customers.

  By the time we’re safely tucked in Cody’s SUV and heading back toward Wonder Lane, I’m emotionally and physically drained. My feet hurt, and the effort of trying not to stand on certain points of my feet caused my ankles and shins to hurt. Add to that the fact that my ears are ringing and the smell of smoke is wafting around me, and I feel pretty unattractive. So unattractive, in fact, that I made a point of pulling my lip gloss out and touching it to my lips again before we got back in the vehicle.

  He doesn’t talk for a couple minutes, but when he reaches over and takes my hand, it doesn’t make my pulse race like it might have a couple hours before. That fact keeps me rather pensive, and although he brings up a couple light topics of conversation, I don’t offer much more than simple answers the rest of the way to my house.

  The SUV pulls up next to Jake’s truck, and I automatically reach for the door handle.

  “I guess that’s her dad’s truck?” Cody asks, pointing out his window.

  “Yeah,” I say, hesitating while I wait for him to say goodbye. Instead, he leans toward me, placing both his hands on my left arm.

  “Listen, he’s not going anywhere, right? You’ve got a captive babysitter, and you don’t even have to pay the guy. Why don’t we go back to my place?”

  My heart sinks a little, because instantly I know the answer to the question I’ve had in my mind the last few years: What if it had been Cody instead of Jake? And the truth is, it would have been no different. Just messier.

  “No thanks,” I whisper, giving him a sad smile.

  His eyebrows draw closer together, and he drags his finger down my arm, trying to cause a reaction. For the first time since I can remember, it’s not working.

  “It’s inevitable,” he adds in a husky voice. “Come on, Alexis. You know we’ve wanted to be together for a long time. Now’s the chance, and there’s no reason to wait.”

  Those words provide the motivation I need to pull against the door handle and step one of those heeled sandals out onto the pavement.

  “That’s the problem,” I tell him, gently pulling my arm away. “Despite appearances, I’m still waiting for the guy. And you’re not him.” Sliding my other leg out, I stand on my aching feet and bend over so I can see him, where he’s still leaning over toward the passenger side. “Good night, Cody.”

  The sound of the door closing behind me is a sweet release, and as I pause right there in front of his SUV in the driveway to slide my shoes off, I can’t help but smile. The sound of his engine is like background music signaling that I’m finally moving on with my life.

  The door to the house creaks as I push it open, but Jake and Bailey aren’t anywhere to be seen. At eleven o’clock I expected that Bailey might have crashed, but I thought Jake would be watching TV. His shoes are next to the couch and his suit jacket is draped over the back, but the house is quiet. After depositing my purse on the kitchen counter and tossing those offending shoes on the floor, I creep down the hallway until I can peek in Bailey’s room.

  My hand moves over my heart as I take in the scene, Jake’s back propped against the headboard with his arm around Bailey, his head resting on top of hers, his top button undone and his tie loosened. Her face is pressed against his chest, and I can hear the sound of her breathing. As I move closer, I expect to hear a similar sound from Jake, but I don’t. Not a whisper of anything. Reaching out, I place my hand against his, feeling a familiar jolt run through my veins.

  I pull my hand away, watching as his eyes flutter open. As he begins to register the scene in his mind, glancing up at me and then down at Bailey, my heart begins to beat erratically. It’s Jake, isn’t it? My heart’s traded Cody for Jake? One obviously wrong guy for another?

  “Hey,” he says with a grin, gently extracting Bailey from his embrace and placing her pillow under her head. He draws the covers up over her shoulders, bending to place a kiss on her forehead. I take a couple steps back, unsure what to do with my new revelation. How can I want Jake, whose very presence every day is almost destined to make me abjectly miserable?

  “Date didn’t go so well?” he asks quietly, standing in front of me. His hair is slightly disheveled, and the sight of that on top of his askew tie and unbuttoned collar makes him look like one of the guys in those magazine perfume ads. The ones that invite you to mess them up a little.

  “Why would you ask that?” The words come out too defensively, but he doesn’t seem to care. His smile is easy, almost lazy. Unassuming, like he has no clue about the knots that are tying up my stomach at the moment.

  “You have lip gloss on, so I’m guessing he didn’t kiss you good night.” He quickly shrugs and places his hands in his pockets. “Not that you have to do that on a date, at all. Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  I force my attention to Bailey so I don’t have to answer immediately, putting a little distance between us. Since he just pointed out the lip gloss, I simply sweep my hand across her hair instead of kissing her cheek, whispering good night. Turning, I see him still standing there, hands in his pockets.

  “No,” I tell him. “No, it didn’t go well. Sometimes the past should be left in the past.”

  “Good,” he says, accompanied by a rush of breath. “I mean, not good that it didn’t go well, but good that you aren’t upset about it.”

  “Good,” I repeat, moving in the direction of Bailey’s bedroom door. “I want to say thank you, by the way. For watching Bailey, but not just that. Thanks for taking her out tonight. For making her feel like a princess. For bringing her flowers.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he whispers, glancing at her sleeping form.

  “You’re a good dad.”

  His eyes cloud up and he clears his throat, and I know I’ve said too much. Just smile and leave the room, Alexis. Quick smile…take an exit.

  I start to walk past him, but stop short, raising to my toes to quickly kiss him on the cheek. He moves though, right as I’m leaning into him, and my lips land on the corner of his mouth. My eyes widen as I pull away, but the damage is done.

  Why was I kissing him on the cheek in the first place? And of course he was going to look to see what I was doing! Any sane person would!

  “Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  He nods in my direction before he turns to head down the hall. Doesn’t even say a word, but walks to the living room to slide on his shoes, while I remain just a couple steps behind, mentally beating myself up and cringing over my stupidity. So much for being cool. Three minutes in his presence and I’m practically falling all over him.

  When he grabs hi
s suit jacket in his fist and looks at the floor, I fight the urge to apologize again. He didn’t respond the first time, so I know he doesn’t want to hear it. That doesn’t stop the desperate wish that I could go back to the way things were a minute ago, though.

  So stupid.

  His eyes come up to meet mine, and I can’t read his expression. He’s not playing it off as a joke, which is what I’d normally imagine him doing. Instead, he takes a couple steps toward me, where I stand awkwardly by the wall, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t stop until he’s close enough that I can’t move without bumping him, and I train my eyes on his, still waiting.

  The sensation of his suit jacket dropping onto my bare feet causes me to draw in a breath. He exhales against my cheek, his fingertips lightly touching my hair and then the top of my ear, skimming over my cheek.

  “Jake,” I whisper, and he shakes his head, his nose barely missing the tip of mine as he places a finger over my lips. Looking at him while he stands so close is too intense, so I close my eyes, leaning my head back just enough to feel the sensation of my hair touching the wall. His finger leaves my lips, and instead I feel his thumb tracing along the bottom of my jaw.

  I was wrong to think I traded Cody for Jake. Cody didn’t affect me this way, where I wanted to run but didn’t want to miss a second of what might happen. But Cody had been a boy, and Jake is…

  My eyes refocus on him as I think about his motive. Huge mistake, because I’ve never seen this amount of passion in his gaze. Maybe once or twice while we were arguing, but definitely not while standing this close.

  “Jake,” I try again, but this time he silences me with his lips, kissing the corner of my mouth like I’d accidentally done to him. When I gasp, he draws back only enough to move his kiss to my bottom lip, barely touching me before he backs away, glancing down to my hands.

  He traces a line across the back of my hand before entwining his fingers with mine, raising our hands together to his chest. His eyes don’t leave mine as he presses his lips to the tips of my fingers, afterwards settling them in front of his chest again as a pained expression crosses his face.