He rolled his eyes. “That their vehicles are proportional to the size of their manhood? Yup. Live that every day.”
“That’s not exactly what I heard. But whatever you say.” I winked.
“Wiseass.” He laughed.
The smell of his cologne, mixed with the smallest hint of cigar, filled the air. He’d never smoked in front of me, but I knew he enjoyed the occasional cigar while he drove. I loved the smell of his truck, because it was basically the smell of him condensed into a small space. It was heaven.
If I’m coming across as a bit desperate for this man—well, I guess that’s right. But consider the fact that he was my very first crush. The crush. My only crush. Many years of unrequited longing had led me here. Also consider that he’s ten times more attractive now, having morphed into a full-on man. The additional fact that I was now actually old enough to entertain my fantasies didn’t help. I didn’t want to want him. I just did. He was the last person I should’ve been setting my sights on, because this was futile. But you can’t choose who you’re attracted to.
We drove in silence for a couple of minutes until I said, “Thank you for driving me. I appreciate it.”
He glanced over. “No problem.”
I braced myself. “What are you doing tonight?”
He hesitated. “Probably heading to Linnea’s.”
Linnea was a girl I knew he’d been seeing. I’d heard him talking to Nathan about her and spotted her in his truck once.
“Are things getting serious with her?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really get serious with anyone. I just spend more time with certain people than others.”
I nodded slowly. “I see.”
While that made me feel a tad better, it also meant there was likely more than one girl he’d been “spending time” with.
“Do you regret moving back to Palm Creek?” I asked.
“Why would you think that?” he asked after a moment.
“Isn’t it obvious? In North Carolina, you owned your own place. You had a great job, from what I understand. Now you’re living with Nathan and me and working for your father. That’s a big change.” I paused to think. “Besides…I know not all of the memories here are good ones. I just thought—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted. “My father needed me to run his business for a while. I had little choice in the matter, but being home has actually made me realize how much I missed it here. It’s not all bad.”
Jace’s dad, Phil, owned Muldoon Construction. Phil Muldoon had been undergoing treatment for throat cancer and needed help running the business side of things for a while. Since he had a business degree, Jace was the most equipped of his siblings to handle the task. Actually, Jace’s older half-brothers weren’t capable of anything at all, considering they were both unemployed drug addicts. So Jace had quit his property manager job in Charlotte before moving back here.
“Do you think you’ll stay permanently?”
“That depends on a lot of things. I’m just taking it one day at a time.”
“I know Nathan really appreciates the fact that you moved in with us. He’s not always the best with words and expressing his thanks. His pride gets in the way. But he sleeps better at night knowing we can pay the mortgage. I’m glad he wasn’t afraid to ask you to move in.”
“I kind of feel like I owe him, to be honest.”
“Why is that?”
He paused. “When things…happened…I disappeared. Went straight back to school. You know…”
This was the first time Jace had even vaguely alluded to what had “happened.” I’d never realized he felt guilty for going back to North Carolina after my parents were killed. That made sense, I supposed. But I certainly never faulted him for that decision. What was he supposed to do? Drop out of school, stay in Palm Creek, and suffer along with the rest of us? At the time, I’d envied the fact that he had somewhere else to go. Heck, I would’ve gone with him if I could’ve.
“You had to get back to school, had to continue your life. You had no choice—”
“There’s always a choice. And I do regret not being there for him…and for you. Now’s my opportunity to make up for that.” He glanced over at me. “You guys are like family.”
While a part of me liked hearing that, the other part didn’t care for the incestuous undertone of his statement.
He cleared his throat. “What is it about this confession thing at the bar you like so much?”
I shrugged. “I guess when you bottle up your feelings a lot, you envy those who have the courage to let them out.”
“You’ve never actually gone up there, then.”
“No…not yet anyway. Maybe at some point.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What are you waiting for?”
I chuckled. “Guts.”
“What are you scared of specifically?”
“Losing my ability to speak mostly, or worse, speaking in gibberish if I do manage to get the words out… Fainting, collapsing, being carted away to a mental hospital with padded walls. Stuff like that.”
“Catastrophic much?” He laughed. “But I get it. It’s not easy doing anything in front of an audience. I can’t blame you.”
“Yeah. I prefer to just listen for now. I find it very inspiring, even though I wish I had the balls to do it.”
“There’s no rush. When you’re ready, you will. Public speaking does take balls, but I would imagine it’s even harder when you’re sharing something personal.”
I nodded. “That’s exactly it. And I’d also need something interesting to confess. Sometimes people talk about painful things that have happened to them, but I’d prefer not to go there. I’d rather confess something juicy or funny rather than start bawling in front of strangers.”
“Don’t go doing anything stupid just so you have something to talk about. You’ll give your brother a heart attack.”
“It doesn’t take much to upset Nathan.”
He turned to me. “You don’t talk to him much, do you? He told me he never knows what you’re thinking.”
My brother has talked to Jace about me? “He did?”
“Yeah. I think he wishes you’d open up to him more.”
“I’m not very good at talking about certain things with anyone. I write down my thoughts to express myself, or sometimes I write fiction where the characters have gone through what I have. But I keep everything private. Even listening to certain songs that resonate helps me get stuff out. I meditate and do yoga sometimes, too. Talking has never been my thing, though.”
“As long as you have an outlet.”
“What’s your outlet?”
“Nothing as respectable as writing and yoga.”
“Sex and cigars?” I suggested.
“I haven’t had a cigar in a week.” He winked.
Jesus. So I guess it’s sex then.
“Maybe I should learn to meditate instead,” he added. “When do you do it?”
“Whenever I can find the time. I use an app on my phone for guided meditation. It helps calm me down when I’m stressed. I also feel like it helps me connect to my subconscious.”
Glancing over at me, he smiled. “You’re way deeper than the little girl who used to chew on her hair.”
I felt my cheeks heat. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“Some things are kind of hard to forget.”
I sighed. “Life was certainly simpler back then. Glad I got out of that habit, though. If I chewed on my hair when I got stressed now, I wouldn’t have any left.”
“You do a good job of not seeming like you’re stressed all the time. I guess you can hide a lot behind a smile, huh?”
I shrugged. “Fake it ’til you make it.”
He turned to me briefly before his eyes returned to the road. “What’s got you stressed?”
“It’s nothing I can pinpoint. Just the overall uncertainty of the future. I want to make something of myself but have no idea what it is I want to do. I
feel like I’m stuck in limbo. I stay in the same mundane secretarial job—getting up every day and doing the same thing—but I feel time ticking away.”
“You’re so young. You’ve got a lot of time.”
“I’m not that young,” I felt compelled to say.
“I know you’re not a kid anymore, but you’re young.”
“I should’ve almost graduated college by now, and I haven’t even started. My mother was married with a baby at my age.”
He grimaced. “You wouldn’t want to be married with a kid right now.”
“No, but I want a purpose, deeper meaning in my life. It’s frustrating that I haven’t found it.”
“There’s no timetable, Farrah. You’ve been through a lot—more than most people your age. And honestly, I’m proud of the way you and Nathan have handled everything. You’ve got a roof over your head, and you look out for each other. You’re doing amazing, even if you don’t always feel like you have your shit together. In the end, we’re all just trying to get through the day, you know? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Admiring his gorgeous cheekbones and the way the streetlights reflected on his jet-black hair, I smiled. “I’ll try to look at it that way.”
We finally approached the strip of businesses where The Iguana was located.
Jace slowed the truck. “Is this it?”
“Yup.”
He pulled up in front. The last of the daylight had diminished during the course of our ride, and the blue neon sign atop the bar lit up the night.
“You said you have a ride back?” He placed his hand on my headrest.
Once again, my body was all too aware of his proximity.
“Yeah. Kellianne is meeting me here and driving me home.”
Jace gave me a look. “Does she drink?”
“Don’t worry. She’ll only have one drink if she’s driving.”
“Okay. If anything changes and you need a ride, text me.”
It was tempting to create a situation later that might warrant that scenario.
“I will.”
“Be careful,” he warned.
Not eager to leave his truck, I lingered for a moment. I wanted to stay with him all night, talk more about life, learn more about what made him tick and what types of things he longed for. I wanted to know everything about him, pick him apart layer by layer.
Instead, I forced myself to open the door. Before exiting, I paused and leaned in to give him a quick hug. “Thanks again.”
His body stiffened, yet he wrapped his arm around my back. I savored those few seconds before pulling away. From all appearances, it was an innocent gesture. But on the inside, I was burning up. I didn’t have many opportunities to “thank” him in that way.
Jace waited for me to go in before he drove off.
Once the door closed behind me, I made a beeline for the bar. I hated being the first to arrive. Kellianne was coming straight from work.
After finding a seat at a table that faced the stage, I sat alone and sipped my mojito.
About ten minutes later, I spotted my friend rushing toward me.
I’d met Kellianne at the law firm where I worked as an administrative assistant. She’d since moved on to another job, but we’d stayed in contact. Physically, we were opposites. Kellianne was short with curly blond hair. I was five-foot-seven with long, straight, brown locks.
“Sorry, I’m late. Traffic sucked,” she said.
“No worries.” I lifted my drink. “As you can see, I got a head start.”
“Anyone go up there yet?”
“No. They haven’t started.”
The confessionals usually started at nine and would last for about an hour, maybe more, depending on how many people were willing to spill their guts.
“Your brother drove you here?”
“No. Jace gave me a ride.”
“Ah…Jace.” She sighed. “He’s so freaking hot. I ran into him pumping gas the other day. Well, he didn’t see me. He had a girl in the truck with him.”
I rolled my eyes. “Did she have red hair?”
“Yeah, actually.”
“That’s Linnea. He’s been seeing her for a couple of weeks. He’s with her tonight.”
Her brow lifted. “Does that bother you?”
I shrugged. “A little. Yeah.”
I’d never spoken to Kellianne about my recent feelings for Jace. She only knew about my crush on him when I was younger. A hopeless crush was excusable, even cute, at twelve. At twenty-one? Not so much.
But she didn’t seem surprised by my response. “I thought so…”
“I don’t want to get into it.”
“But I want to hear about this.”
“There’s not much to say. You already know I had a crush on him when I was a little girl. Being around him again has brought out some of those old feelings.”
She held out her index finger. “Hold that thought. I need a drink for this.”
She ran to the bar. When she returned to her seat with a rum and Coke, she took up where she’d left off.
“Okay, so…some of the old feelings for him came back…or rather, they just never went away?”
I slurped the last of my drink and shook around the ice. “When he was living in North Carolina, it was easier not to think about him, but now that he’s here again, I can’t help how I feel. It’s like my emotions just picked up where they left off. And, now that he’s living with us, I’m getting to know him on a different level. We never talked much when I was a kid. Back then it was just me admiring him from afar. We’re both more mature now, so it’s different.”
Her eyes brimmed with excitement. “Do you think there’s a chance something could happen?”
“No. I really don’t. He treats me the same way Nathan does—like a sister. Which sucks.”
“Well, you never know. Keep dressing like you did tonight, and that might change.”
“I don’t know. He cares about me. I do know that. I think that’s exactly why he’d never try anything.” I tipped some of the ice into my mouth. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do if he returned the attraction. Nathan would kill us both.”
“Okay, so hypothetically, if an opportunity arose…you wouldn’t go there?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Anyway, that’s a fantasy, not reality.”
“It’s weird to know the person you’re obsessed with cares about you, just not in the way you want. Sort of a unique situation.”
Her use of the word obsessed weirded me out. I thought I’d downplayed my feelings toward Jace, but apparently she could see through me.
Fiddling with my straw, I looked down into my empty glass. “He does care about me. I care about him, too. It’s not just lust. For so many years, he was a big part of my life. He spent a lot of time with our family. When his team lost a football game, he’d lament to us at the dinner table. I had a front-row seat to a lot of important times in his life, like when he and Nathan went to prom and graduated from high school. I watched him grow up.” I closed my eyes. “And of course, as I’ve told you before, he was there when my parents died. He was with them, because he was working for my dad that summer.”
Kellianne shook her head. “That’s so crazy.”
“Yeah. He won’t talk about it. And I don’t blame him.” I blew out a long breath. “I can’t imagine how traumatic that was. It hurts me to even think about it.” Wiping a tear, I said, “Okay, we need to move on to another subject, stat.”
Kellianne clapped her hands. “Okay then. I know what we can talk about. What do I have to do to get you to go up there tonight and confess your secret crush on your brother’s best friend?”
That wasn’t the change of subject I was hoping for.
“Figure out how to make pigs fly?”
Chapter 2
* * *
Farrah
In our house, everyone did their own laundry. We kept our washer and dryer in a corner of the garage, since we didn’t have a separa
te laundry room. About once a week, I’d wash my clothes after I got back from work, which was before Nathan or Jace got home.
One such afternoon, I carried my items in a basket to the garage and noticed a pile of Jace’s clothes sitting in a canvas bag next to the washing machine. I recognized the red shirt on top as the one he’d worn yesterday. He’d smelled amazing in it while sitting across from me at the table. It had to smell just as good today.
On impulse, I picked up the shirt and lifted it to my nose, keeping it over my face as I breathed in deeply for several seconds. Inhaling the earthy cologne mixed with a delicious scent that was all Jace was sweet torture. This made it easy to imagine what it would be like to have him up against me. Closing my eyes, I rubbed my face against the soft material, pretending he was inside of it. This was as close as I was going to get, so I let myself enjoy it.
“What the hell are you doing?” a gruff voice demanded.
My heart nearly stopped. The shirt fell to the ground as I lifted my chin to meet Jace’s incendiary stare. He’d apparently entered the garage through the side door while I was immersed in my olfactory fantasy.
Feigning calm, I said, “Oh…hi. You’re home.”
“Yeah. I had to take my dad to an appointment, so I left work early. Is…this what you do when we’re not here? Sniff the dirty laundry?”
His confused expression held a mix of anger and amusement.
I pulled the most insane excuse out of my butt. “I have this…strange habit of smelling things that aren’t mine. Sort of like…a compulsion.”
My heart thumped out the word liar…liar…liar repeatedly.
“So you decided to smell my shirt out of everything in here?”
I gulped. “Yeah, I guess. It was bright red—caught my attention. Not to mention, your cologne is…nice.”
He chuckled. “You’re weird, Farrah.”
“Never claimed not to be.”
His brow lifted. “How did it smell otherwise?”
Letting out a shaky breath, I nodded. “Good. No strange odors or anything—unlike Nathan’s shirts. His smell like tacos.”
Jace chuckled. “I guess if I’m on the fence about throwing something in the wash, I should consult you from now on?”
The Crush Page 2
