That Thing Called Love

by Susan Andersen

  She smoothed out the abused leather as best she could and, seating the heel of her foot properly this time, straightened, twitched her dress in order and took a deep breath before she climbed the stairs.

  Maybe Jake wouldn’t be home. That would be a shame for Austin, of course, but not such a bad deal for her. Was it truly all that wrong to think of herself first in just this one itty-bitty instance?

  She winced at the sound of the boy pounding on the door.

  Because if Jake was home, this would be the first time she’d come face-to-face with him since that embarrassing pass she’d made the other night. Twisting, she brushed nonexistent lint from the retro kick-pleats of her dress skirt.

  “Good! You’re here. You gotta help me!”

  Damn! She slowly faced front again.

  Jake stood in the doorway, dressed more casually than usual in his ancient Columbia University sweatshirt, threadbare baby-wale cords and white athletic socks. Dark stubble framed those beautifully cut lips and strong jaw, and his hair was attractively rumpled.

  “O-kay,” he said amiably. “I’ll do my best. What do you need?” Then his voice deepened a notch and managed to sound like hot sex on cool sheets when he added, “Jenny.”

  She gave him a brisk nod. “Jake.”

  “Yeah, yeah, everyone knows everyone’s name,” Austin snarled impatiently.

  She’d love to just let it slide, but couldn’t. “Snapping at everyone is not the way to make friends and influence people, Austin Jacob.”

  He opened his mouth, undoubtedly to impart something snarky, but snapped it closed. Gave her a nod. “Sorry,” he muttered with zero sincerity. Still, he’d apologized instead of singing the ubiquitous teenage “Whatever” anthem, so Jenny gave him a pass on the tone.

  Taking an audible breath, Austin turned to his father, then exhaled it with a whoosh. “Dude. Because of Dr. Howser’s stupid screwup with the chicken pox vaccination, we’ve got no photographer for the team pictures. The guy who always does it came down with a case of the pox, too, and they’re telling us, like this helps at all, that adult cases are usually ten times worse.”

  “So, can’t he simply do it when he’s feeling better?” Jake inquired reasonably.

  “No! He’s booked right up until the end of June, when he’s taking some big-deal family vacation to Europe!” The teen’s voice rose with each word until he was one decibel shy of yelling.

  Then to Jenny’s eternal pride, he composed himself. His voice was still passionate, however, when he said, “These pics are a big damn deal. Not only do we get our individual and team photos, but there’s this dope bound book with everyone’s picture in it, kinda like a high school yearbook, ya know? And there are stories and photographs of the people and businesses that support us through the year. Like Jenny here!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to stand in front of him, displaying her like Exhibit A.

  “Really?” she demanded incredulously, craning her head to look over her shoulder at the teen.

  “Work with me here,” he muttered. Then looking past her to Jake, he slapped on a better-grab-the-tissue-’cause-this-story’s-gonna-be-sad face. “Jenny waits all year for the publicity her write-up brings to the inn.”

  “Sure,” Jake said with a straight face. “Because tons of local people must stampede for the chance to shell out their hard-earned bucks on a hotel a mile from home.”

  Exactly!

  Austin growled like a cat faced with a raccoon. “Hey, the coupon in her ad brings them to the restaurant in droves.”

  “This is true,” she agreed.

  But the teen’s hands dropped away from her arms and his shoulders sagged. “Aw, hell. Never mind.”

  Jake stared at his son and could no doubt see, as did Jenny, that this was not posturing. This was genuine dejection.

  He stepped closer. “What do you say I volunteer to step in for the photographer?” Jake asked gently. “Would that help?”

  Austin’s head came up. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, man, that would be so dope!” He lurched forward to give Jake an awkward hug, then took a hasty step back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Thanks, Dad. I mean, really, thank you.”

  The boy may not have realized the form of address he’d just used on his father, but Jenny froze as if she’d stepped on a land mine, and her next move could be the end of her life as she knew it. And the look that flashed across Jake’s face—well. For a second his expression was open and stunned. Hopeful. Vulnerable.

  Then he blinked and it was as if the action punched the Drop Curtain button, because she could no longer read him at all. “That’s what we’ll do then...provided Jenny helps me.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, sure, she can do that,” Austin agreed eagerly.

  “Wait a darn minute, you two,” she said. “I happen to have a job that’s already taking up most of my time and attention.”

  “It’s the slow season,” Austin said.

  “Not this weekend it isn’t.”

  “Then we’ll fit things into the weekdays.” Jake looked at her. “Work around your schedule.”

  “Maybe we could do the team’s pictures before practice or a game,” Austin added. “I could let them know when.”

  Dammit, when the boy looked at her with his face alight with happiness, what was she supposed to do? “Why don’t you go make a copy of the phone tree off my computer while I hammer out a few details with Jake?”

  “Okay.” He swooped to give her a big bear hug that lifted her off her feet and made her squeak. Setting her down, he grinned and stepped back. “You guys are the best.”

  “Of course we are. Now that you got your own way.”

  He shot her a cocky grin, then leaped off the porch and bolted toward home.

  She turned to his father. “Seriously? You tow me into this?”

  “You’ve been avoiding me ever since you proposed we get it on,” he said, ruthlessly dragging the one subject she’d prefer left stuffed in a dark corner into the light of day. “It’s either this or we go to bed and have hot sex.”

  “Okay, fine,” she said snappishly. “Let’s go to bed.”

  “What?” His jaw dropped. Then his eyes lit up and he stepped forward. “Really?”

  “No, not really.” Dammit.

  But, no, she couldn’t think that way. No casual sex. He’s leaving.

  Closing her mind to the voice whispering in her head, she gave him a poor-delusional-man head shake. “Jeez, you’re easy.”

  “Hey, I’m a guy. It’s built in our DNA.”

  “It’s built in your d-i-c-k.”

  He grinned. “That, too. Wanna see how mine’s built?”

  “Pffff.”

  “Ouch. Dismissive. Well, never mind.” He stepped closer, but the flirtatiousness disappeared. “So, how big a project is this?”

  “Fairly big, although maybe not for a man accustomed to traveling to faraway places and living in primitive conditions for his assignments. Why don’t we go over to the cottage and I’ll dig up last year’s album to give you an idea of the scope on this one.” She took a breath and allowed, “I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to coordinate this. There are several families who’d be happy to help, so I could delegate part of it.”

  “Don’t forget Austin’s offer.”

  “Oh, trust me, Austin’s going to do his share.” Then she smiled. “Although, I have to admit I’m kind of proud of him for his follow-through on this. It really knocked him for a loop when he heard there wouldn’t be team photos this year and no annual. Especially that, I think. The annual is unique to our team. It falls outside the range of the Little League—this is sponsored entirely by Razor Bay and the local Small Business Association.”

  They went ove
r to her bungalow, where she accepted the phone tree from Austin, who had been on his way back to Jake’s. She sent him to unearth the past two years’ leather-bound annuals from the bookshelf in his room. While he did that and took them to Jake in the living room, she went into the kitchen to make them some coffee and cocoa and slap a dozen store-bought cookies on a plate.

  A moment later, she put the tray on the coffee table and joined the two males on the couch, where they sat with their heads together, poring over last year’s book. “What do you think?” she asked Jake when he closed the last one.

  “I can do better than this.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you insulting our photographer’s work?”

  “Not at all—he’s not half-bad. But I’m better.”

  “He bragged shamelessly,” she said dryly.

  He shot her a cocky grin that looked an awful lot like his son’s. “It’s not bragging if it’s true. I am good.”

  “Okay, you are,” she conceded. “I love that photo you gave Austin.”

  “Me, too,” Austin said, probably admitting aloud for the first time how much it meant to him.

  “I think all photography rocks,” Jake said. “But shooting people is what I like and do best.” His eyes were alight with enthusiasm when he looked at them. “And I can make this the most kick-ass annual these kids have ever seen.”

  “Sah-weet!” Austin crowed and gave his dad a high five.

  Jenny couldn’t argue with that, so she got down to business with Jake. “You’ve been to enough games to have an idea how many kids are involved,” she said as she rose to her feet. “I’ll run off a copy of the list of participating merchants and businesses so you can get an idea of the extent of that portion of the project, as well.”

  Austin hopped up, too. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he all but danced with excitement. “A bunch of the guys talked about hanging at Bella T’s for a while tonight. Can I go give them the news?”

  “Oh, I don’t know...” She glanced at Jake. One, he had just made a hell of an offer and Austin disappearing in the wake of it might seem a little less than appreciative. Two—and face it, the biggie for her—she’d just as soon not be left alone with him.

  But Jake merely asked his son if he’d done his homework.

  “Yeah. Did it before dinner.”

  “Then if it’s okay with Jenny, it works for me.”

  Well, crap. That neatly boxed her in. “Okay. But be back by nine.”

  “Sweet!” It was apparently Austin’s word of the day, and it hung in the air as he tore out through the kitchen.

  Thighs spread wide, Jake leaned back against the couch cushions, his hands linked behind his head and elbows pointing at ten and two o’clock. “I do believe he’s pleased,” he said, looking pretty damn pleased himself.

  “I think you can safely say that,” she agreed dryly. “Well, I’ll just go get the list—”

  He looked up at her from his indolent sprawl. “First tell me about this write-up on the inn that Austin mentioned.”

  She sat down again, but this time perched on the edge of the coffee table, prepared to dash away at a moment’s notice. She couldn’t say why she felt so on edge. Despite his lazy posture, Jake’s behavior was professional.

  She exhaled a quiet breath. “Each of us gets a full page, half of which is dedicated to the ad space we buy. Basically we’re paying half price for a full-page spread. The other half simply gives us an opportunity to put a personality to the advertisement.”

  “Who does the copy?”

  “We each do our own—and those who suck at it get help from someone who doesn’t. I’m sure it sounds like amateur hour to you, but it’s surprisingly effective. The personal information makes it not feel so advertisey, and by boxing only the coupons we offer, it comes across more like a who’s who of Razor Bay business professionals.” She shrugged. “For an extra twenty-five bucks we can also have our individual pages put up on the town website. I’ve probably gotten more reservations through the internet than the ad in the annual, since that targets primarily team families and other locals. And as you pointed out, people who live here aren’t usually in a mad rush to spend their rare night out at the inn next door. They’re much more likely to go into Seattle or Tacoma or up to the Seven Cedars Casino in Sequim.”

  “So, why bother?”

  Really? She stared at him. Wasn’t it obvious?

  He met her gaze expectantly, however, so she said, “To give back to the town that’s given so much to me.”

  That elicited a grimace and she tilted her head curiously. “Why do you dislike it here so much?”

  “I don’t dislike it, exactly.” And to Jake’s amazement, he realized he was no longer experiencing the usual get-me-the-hell-out-of-here restlessness he’d felt like pepper beneath his skin the minute he’d crossed the town line. Sometime during the past couple of weeks it had disappeared—but so gradually he couldn’t pinpoint when.

  “Is it because your wife died here, then?”

  “No. Or not entirely.” Not at all. “Truth is, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t lust after something larger than what Razor Bay has to offer.”

  “Still, I can only imagine how awful it must have been to lose her right after she gave birth to Austin. That had to be the last straw for Razor Bay.”

  He’d discussed Kari’s death a little with Max, so he couldn’t say why having Jenny ask questions pushed his buttons now—why it stirred up things he didn’t like to think about. But it did and he focused a sharp gaze on her. “Why are you so damn interested in Kari?”

  The delicate lift of her eyebrow and tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth was clear as a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I care about Austin and I’d like to get to know you better.”

  “Really?” Snapping is not the way to make friends and influence people, Austin Jacob, she’d said. Austin Jacob. “And you think pumping me for details about the worst time in my life is the way to do it?” How could it have escaped him that his kid had been given his name?

  She blinked. Then said with stricken apology, “I’m sorry. That’s not what I was trying to do.”

  “The hell it wasn’t. Kari and I weren’t fucking Romeo and Juliet. This isn’t some tragic, star-crossed love story.” Ugly emotions seethed beneath his skin. He had no idea where they’d come from.

  But he couldn’t seem to get a handle on them.

  Which was why he jerked upright, shifted his butt to the edge of the couch and leaned into her space. “Love is an illusion, sweetheart. A chimera that disappears if you look at it too closely.”

  “That’s certainly—” she leaned back “—cynical.”

  “No, that’s reality. You want to know what the final straw was?” he demanded in a hard voice, even as the whisper of Austin’s “Dad” in his head felt like a reproach. “That would probably be the fact that by the time Kari died, there wasn’t a speck of affection, let alone love, left between us. Or that I looked at my own kid—” Austin Jacob “—and the only thing I felt was a need to get the hell out of Dodge!”

  She studied him for several long heartbeats, those Godiva eyes of hers searching for God-only-knew what.

  Then blew out a breath.

  “Look,” she said. “I hate the fact that your neglect caused Austin a load of disappointment over the years.”

  There wasn’t a reflex on earth fast enough to catch his flinch. But it didn’t mean he had to parade it in front of her. He flopped back against the cushion and raised an eyebrow.

  She pursed her lips and his eyes homed in on them. “At the same time,” she said slowly, redirecting his attention back to her steady gaze, “you were eighteen years old. Your lifelong plans had imploded and you had a boatload of responsibility dumped on your shoulders.” She examined him fo
r seconds that felt like dog years, and his heart thud, thud, thudded against his rib cage. He slapped on a faintly amused smile to keep her from realizing how off balance he was.

  “I’m guessing both you and Kari must have felt pretty damn trapped,” she continued. “On top of that, she was dealing with seeing and feeling her body balloon into something she probably didn’t recognize. I know Emmett and Kathy’s propensity for spoiling, so let’s say she was a young woman accustomed to being nubile and popular and getting what she wanted, and that she didn’t love what was happening to her. You were working a job you didn’t love and had had to walk away from a scholarship you’d worked toward your entire school career.”

  “And you would know this because...?” he asked lightly, even though forcing the careless tone was like swallowing glass.

  “Emmett and Kathy told me. They didn’t hate you, you know.”

  “Coulda fooled me. They told me to stay away from Austin.”

  “And this changed your life how?” For the first time her voice turned snappish. But she sucked in a breath, exhaled it and said evenly, “From what I understand you were big on saying you’d be by to see Austin, then never showing up. They finally had enough.”

  Bitter shame filled him. Shame at his actions, shame at the relief he’d felt at finally being cut off—if only so he could quit feeling so fucking ashamed of all his broken promises. Giving her a shrug of acknowledgment, he resisted the tell of rubbing at the ache between his brows.

  “But they didn’t hate you, Jake. They just didn’t want to see Austin hurt.”

  Determined not to let her see his inner rawness any more than he already had, he yawned. “So is all this amateur psychoanalyzing your way of keeping yourself from jumping my bones again?” he drawled in a bored voice.

  She shot to her feet, her cheeks flushed red. “God, you’re an ass.”

  “And you’d love to get your hands on it, wouldn’t you?”

  She gave him a chilly look down the length of her pretty, exotically fashioned nose. “I think we’re done here.”

  His own rise to his feet was much more leisurely, and he smiled at the flash of panic on her face when it brought her breasts a whisper away from touching his chest. Snaking a hand around the back of her neck, he tipped her head back, lowered his and kissed her.