The Sweethearts’ Knitting Club (11 page)

Jesse understood her in a way no one else did. He didn’t judge her for her snarky, smart-ass comments, and he shared her wicked sense of humor. She felt as if she could tell him anything. He gave her tips on how to deal with Carrie’s rebellion. She gave him pointers on fitting in at Twilight High.

They were just friends, she told herself. She was going steady with Beau, and Jesse hadn’t tried to kiss her. But she could see the fire in his eyes when he stared at her lips, and she felt a corresponding heat burning in her chest. She wanted him to kiss her, but wanting it made her feel ashamed.

And then came that night on the bridge…

“Flynn?”

Someone was calling her name.

“Flynn? Hello, anybody home?”

“Huh?” Blinking, Flynn looked around at the Sweethearts assembled in her living room. She’d been daydreaming of Jesse again, and right smack-dab in the middle of a knitting session.

“You’re a million miles away and I don’t think
you’ve knitted a stitch,” Belinda Murphey said, breaking through her reverie.

“Are you still brooding over losing out on the theater?” Marva asked.

“Umm…” Flynn shot a glance at Patsy, who was pushing her rocker faster than usual. They hadn’t openly spoken about Jesse buying the theater out from under her, but everyone knew about it.

“She’s not brooding. She’s daydreaming about bridesmaid dresses and place settings and floral arrangements. How can she be brooding with that rock on her finger the size of Texas?” Terri teased.

Flynn looked down at the ring. It was ostentatious. And heavy. And it kept getting tangled up in the yarn.

“Yeah,” she quipped. “I keep thinking that it’ll come in handy living here on the river. Next time there’s a flood and I see someone getting washed away by the current, I can just toss out the ring with a line on it and they can anchor themselves.”

Raylene guffawed. “You could always use it as a doorstop.”

“Or a paperweight.” Marva snickered.

“It
was
nice of Beau to gift me with a dual-purpose engagement ring. I’ll never fly away in a hurricane.”

“So thoughtful of him,” Patsy said. “Considering that we’re four hundred miles inland.”

“You know,” Belinda added, raising her arm to block her eyes. “It’s so sparkly it would make a great beacon in a power outage.”

“In case I forgot to put batteries in the flashlight and all the candles in the house melted?” Flynn laughed.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, oh.” Flynn waved her left hand. “If someone tries to grab me in Froggy’s parking lot late at night, I can just crack them over the head with my ring.”

“Swwttt,”
Marva said. “They’d be out cold.”

“TKO.”

“Comatose.”

“And when the attacker came out of the coma, he’d probably sue you for assault with a deadly weapon.”

Dotty Mae looked confused. “I don’t get it. You can’t do all those things with a diamond engagement ring. Even with a honker like that.”

“It’s a joke,” Terri said gently. “You know Flynn. She’s not the type to draw attention to herself, and a ring that size brings the spotlight. To ease the tension, she makes jokes.”

“I don’t,” Flynn denied. “Do I?”

Everyone nodded, even Dotty.

“She also cracks wise when she’s feeling overwhelmed. The more beleaguered she is, the snarkier she gets,” Carrie said, waltzing in from the kitchen. “It’s her fatal flaw.”

“Fatal flaw?” Patsy asked.

“Don’t encourage her,” Flynn said. “She’s dating a guy who’s getting a liberal farts degree. Apparently he’s taking a literature class and she’s absorbing it through osmosis.”

“See,” Carrie retorted. “Pure snark. She
has
to do it, even though she knows it will prove my point. Hence, her flaw is fatal. And FYI, Logan is taking creative writing.”

“Always having to have the last word is Carrie’s fatal flaw,” Flynn muttered.

“Is not.”

Flynn arched an eyebrow and took a purl stitch for dramatic effect.

“
Are
you feeling overwhelmed?” Marva asked. “You’re adding extra stitches.”

“What? Oh. No,” Flynn lied. “It’s the spotlight thing, like Terri said.”

Carrie snorted and disappeared upstairs.

“Oh, will you look at the time,” Patsy said. “I didn’t realize it was after nine. We gotta hit the road, girls.”

The Sweethearts gathered up their knitting, said their good-byes, and left Flynn waving at the front door. The minute they’d dispersed, Flynn slipped on a light sweater and headed down to the dock. She was feeling particularly lonely tonight.

And achy.

Those daydreams she’d been having were stirring up some powerful old emotions. Nothing like sitting on the dock and watching the water roll by to take the tension out of a woman’s shoulders.

She padded over the decking, settled on the lawn chair, sank down, snuggled into her sweater, and breathed in the air. The wind tossed her hair into her face. She tucked it behind both ears.

The breezy summer night reminded her of Jesse. Of that night when everything changed.

Jesse
. His name hung in her mind like a prayer. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

In the distance, she saw a boat headed upriver from the lake, its blue and yellow lights winking in the night. The motor was quiet, trolling slow. She watched it draw closer. She didn’t recognize the boat as belonging to any of her neighbors on
this side of the river, but it was pulling closer to the shore as if intent on docking at one of the slips. Her father owned a johnboat for fishing and there was the canoe, but they hadn’t owned anything more ambitious since Floyd sold the ski boat to help pay for her mother’s medical bills that insurance didn’t cover.

The boat coming toward her was a ski boat. A very nice one. The driver killed the engine, let it drift toward her dock. Did she know who this was?

Flynn got to her feet, squinting into the darkness.

“Enjoying the evening, Dimples?”

“Jesse?”

He was standing up in the seat, guiding the boat in. “Ahoy there.”

The boat bumped against her pier. She grabbed the rope he tossed. “This is Dr. Longoria’s boat.”

“That it is.”

“What are you doing with it?”

“Making a little money on the side. It’ll be awhile before the motorcycle shop is pulling in any cash. The good doctor said she was running funny, asked me if I’d take her out for a spin. Diagnosed it right off the bat. Clogged fuel filter. Cleaned her up and now here I am, making sure she’s in top form.”

“Oh.”

“Thought you might like to go for a ride.”

Flynn shook her head.

“Ah, come on. When was the last time you went out on a late night river cruise?”

Umm, never?

“Come on,” he coaxed. “No one has to know.”

“I’ve got to work in the morning.”

“Don’t give me that. Froggy’s doesn’t open until ten. That’s twelve hours from now.”

“Jesse…”

“I need to talk to you.” He had one leg on the dock, one leg in the boat. She stood on the deck steps above him. He canted his head up at her, a sexy silhouette in the muted dock lighting. He wore blue jean shorts, a thin cotton T-shirt, and Nikes. The telepathy between them frightened her. She’d been thinking of him and
poof
, he’d appeared. A dark knight in a white speedboat.

“What about?”

“Let’s take a little trip upriver. We won’t be gone long. An hour, tops.”

The way he said “long” made her pulse pound. Her gaze hung on his lips—full, angular, sardonic. She held her breath. Waiting for what, she did not know, but she felt it. This odd sense of impending change. And Jesse was the catalyst.

He ran his hand through the sheaf of whiskey blond hair that had fallen across his forehead, pushing it back with his fingers, showing off his masculine brow. Shadows cloaked his face, making him look for all the world like the outlaw who shared his name. He tilted his head, lowered his eyes, and cast her a come-hither look that had perspiration dampening her underarms.

She came down the steps toward him. Old feelings—both dangerous and exciting—shot up between them like Pop-Tarts from a toaster, hot, sweet, startling.

The moment stretched into a minute. They stared into each other, their breaths rasping in tandem.
Flynn’s heart slumped back against her spine. Fear tap-danced in her belly. What did he want from her?

What did she want from him?

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing she wanted from him. When it came down to it, she barely knew this man.

But that was her brain talking. Her heart—oh, her treacherous heart—was feeling something else entirely. Could she trust the feeling? Could she trust him? Could she trust herself?

Her gaze hooked on his mouth. A mouth she yearned to kiss. A mouth that called to her in the middle of the night, in the midst of her darkest dreams. The forbidden fruit. Deadly, poisonous.

If she got into that boat…Heaven help her, she was
not
going to get into that boat.

Hypnotized, she found herself moving forward, getting closer. Not thinking, just wanting.

Jesse held out his hand.

Flynn never took her gaze off his face. They were both holding their breath, their fingers within touching distance. They were so close she could feel the heat of his skin.

So close. So easy.

But she should not, could not, would not.

Jesse touched his bottom lip with an index finger. The gesture wasn’t calculated. Flynn could tell he wasn’t trying to call attention to his mouth, he was just nervous because she hadn’t taken his hand and he was trying not to show it. She recognized his tension in the tautness of his shoulders. Unnerved, just as she was by this chemistry that time and circumstances had not erased.

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” he said, breaking the spell.

She drew in a deep breath, crossed her arms over her chest. Even in this breeze she could smell his warm, manly scent.

“Get in.” He inclined his head toward the passenger seat beside him. “Let’s take a ride and talk about Lynn’s Yarn Barn.”

She got in.

Yeah, it was stupid. Yeah, it was courting trouble. Yeah, if Beau found out there would be hell to pay, but Jesse had uttered the magic words that made her step into Dr. Longoria’s boat and plunk her butt in the seat beside him. Part of her couldn’t help hoping he’d come to offer to sell her the theater.

He didn’t say another word. Just started the engine and took off up the river, past the boat ramp, underneath the old Twilight Bridge.

Along the banks, bullfrogs hummed a deep-throated chorus. In the blue glow of the light on the stern, moths gathered. A fish jumped up, breaking the water with a smart slap. The air smelled rich, loamy. The breeze blew damp, coaxing a flutter from her curling hair, blowing it over her shoulders.

She knew where he was headed as surely as if he’d told her. She wasn’t surprised when he took the fork in the river, following the tributary north to the underground caves and the swimming hole where they used to meet. When they reached the spot, he cut the engine, threw out the anchor. Gently, the boat rocked. He said nothing, just leaned back in the seat and cupped the back of his head in the palms of his interlaced hands.

She didn’t ask why he’d stopped, what he was doing. She knew from the way he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He was savoring his freedom, breathing in the scent of Twilight, reliving old memories. This place got into your blood, slipped under your skin, twined around your heart. Flynn drew her knees to her chest and sat there watching him.

“Remember the time we went skinny-dipping right here in this same spot?” Jesse asked.

“We were in a canoe.”

“That I borrowed from Clinton Trainer.”

“Borrowed?” Flynn snorted. “You stole it.”

“You say potato…” He grinned.

“No wonder Clinton had it in for you. You were a thorn in his side.”

“It was fun seeing his face get red and watching the vein at his temple pop up.”

“You were incorrigible.”

“It’s what you liked most about me.”

She couldn’t deny it. He was right. His boldness, his spontaneity, his fearlessness intrigued her, drew her. Probably because she was none of those things. The closest she came to any kind of rebellion was her smart-alecky take on life.

“I did the things you couldn’t,” he said, eyes still closed, his voice rumbling deep into the night air. “You lived vicariously through my antics.”

“It was almost as if you had a death wish, Jesse.”

“I was seventeen and stupid. So about the skinny-dipping?”

“What about it?”

“Wanna swim down memory lane?” He inclined his head toward the water. The look in his eyes was pure sex.

“Get naked? With you? In the lake?”

“That’s kinda the idea of skinny-dipping.”

“We have no towels.”

That wasn’t what she should have said. She should have said,
No way, Jose. No deal, Phil. Are you out of you mind, Clementine?
But instead she said, “We have no towels.” As if she would do it if there were towels. Why had she said that? Why had she gotten into the boat with him?

Jesse leaned over, raised up the seat where the life vests were stowed, and pulled out two thick bath towels. “Ta da.”

“You set me up.”

Jesse laughed. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Flynn.” He stripped off his shirt. “But I’m going in.”

“Jesse!” she exclaimed.

“I love it when you get all indignant,” he said.

The sight of his bare chest shining in the moonlight drained all the starch from her indignation. She was female and human. He was male and muscled and in his prime. One look, and all she could do was stare.

Don’t drool.

“I’m not going to puddle at your feet,” she said, “just because you’re hauling around a strapping six-pack.”

“No?”

“Go ahead get naked. It won’t faze me a bit.” What was wrong with her? Why did she keep saying things she shouldn’t? Nervously she twirled Beau’s ring on her finger. Guilt played up and down her spine.

You’re engaged to another man. You shouldn’t be here with this one.

Jesse cocked a wide, wicked grin. “Your nipples disagree.”

“What?” She glanced down; her nipples were poking hard against her bra and clearly visible through her T-shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Frick.”

Jesse laughed, toed off his sneakers, reached a hand to the snap of his jeans.

Flynn covered her eyes with her hands.

“Coward.”

“Just because I don’t want to get naked and have minnows nibble on my skin does not make me a coward.”

Jesse hit the water with a soft smacking noise. She peeked through her fingers.

“Ah,” he said, treading water. “This feels great. Refreshing.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Come on in, Dimples. I promise I won’t look.”

It had been so long since she’d had a dip in the lake, skinny or otherwise. She never seemed to make time for the leisure activities she enjoyed.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Jesse cajoled.

“You’re just trying to stir up trouble.”

“You could do with a little stirring up.”

“Oh, believe me, you’ve stirred me up plenty.”

“That’s encouraging to hear.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Right.”

“It’s not.”

“Come on in. Keep your clothes on.”

“Then I’d be all wet on the way back home.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

“You’re completely incorrigible.”

His chuckle rang out across the water. “God, this feels great. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.”

He made it sound so enticing. What would be wrong with taking a dip in the water? She didn’t have to swim close to him. She could keep her underwear on. Urges pulled at her, the water called. Oh, what the hell. Flynn stripped off her T-shirt, wriggled out of her shorts, but kept her bra and panties on.

Jesse applauded.

“Knock it off if you want me to come in.”

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted her.

Flynn slipped off the side of the boat, but when she tried to swim free, something tugged on her panties. Dammit, she was caught. She reached around trying to figure out what had snared her.

“Something wrong?” Jesse swam up to her.

“My underwear hung on something on the boat.”

“Here,” he said, “let me help.”

“Just stay away, you’ve caused enough trouble.”
She treaded water in the darkness, her fingers fumbling at the material of her panties. “It’s some kind of screw sticking out.”

“If you’d just let me…”

“Get away.” She kicked at him, and her foot made contact with his thigh. She felt the material of his jeans beneath her toes. “Hey! You kept your shorts on.”

He laughed. “You’re the one who closed your eyes and assumed the worst. Did you really think I’d get totally naked in front of you?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Maybe it was just wishful thinking on your part.”

“Oh, just shut up.” She yanked at the panties, felt the material rip in her hands. Great! Now she was totally naked in the water with him.

“If Beau could see us now,” Jesse said.

Flynn groaned. If Beau found out about this he’d be cut to the quick. And he wouldn’t believe her that nothing happened. He would want to know why she’d gotten into the boat with Jesse in the first place, why she’d jumped into the water in her panties and bra. Why had she done those things? And what was she going to do now?

Get back in the boat, you idiot, and put your clothes back on. You are not wild. You are not sixteen. Wise up before you get into big trouble.

“Turn around,” she said.

“What?’

“Turn around and close your eyes. I’m getting back in the boat.”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes, turned around in the water until he was facing the shoreline.

Hurriedly Flynn climbed the ladder. Just as she flung her leg over the boat, fully exposing her bare butt in the starlight, Jesse let out a long, low wolf whistle.

“Dammit, Jesse, I told you not to look!” Furious with him, she snatched up a towel, wrapped it around her bare body, and spun around.

He was still facing away from her. He hadn’t looked. He’d just been teasing. His laughter rang out across the water. Hurriedly she got dressed.

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“Get back on this boat and take me home,” she demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” he said, scaling the ladder, his wet shorts clinging to his skin. He leaned over the side to pull up the anchor, the material molding snugly to the curve of his very sexy ass.

Flynn jerked her gaze away. She was
not
going to ogle him. “It’s not the least bit funny.”

“Your panties got caught on a screw, how is that not funny?” He grinned.

“Stop grinning.”

“Not until you admit it was a little funny.”

“Okay,” she admitted. “Maybe it was a little funny.”

He pulled on his T-shirt, sank down behind the wheel. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.”

“What was your intention?”

“Honestly?”

“No, lie to me.” She snorted.

“I just wanted someone with me when I went
swimming for the first time in over a decade. And the first person I thought of sharing the moment with was you.” His tone was poignant, wistful. His words pulled the air right out of her lungs. “Ah, Jesse.”

Were his eyes misting? Or was it a trick of the moonlight. He blinked, and his smile softened. “The thing about the theater was just a handy excuse.”

“What about the theater?”

“We’ll talk when we get back. I’m sorry about the skinny-dipping thing. I just, well…you look so damn gorgeous in moonlight, Dimples, the devil on my shoulder got the best of me.”

She forgave him then. What else could she do?

He started the engine. The air was cool against her damp skin, but it felt good. Fifteen minutes later they were docked outside her house. Jesse leaned back in his seat, studying her with half-shuttered eyes.

“So what did you want to talk to me about in regard to the theater?”

“Would you be interested in renting out the top floor?”

The minute he said it, she knew it was the perfect solution. She wouldn’t have to go into debt. She’d have the right kind of space in the right location. But how perfect could it be when she was having these very disturbing thoughts about Jesse? She was engaged to Beau, and even if she wasn’t, Jesse threatened to turn her orderly world upside down. He’d done it before. He’d done it tonight and he would do it again. Of that she had not doubt. The
man loved shaking up the status quo. Especially
her
status quo.

“I think that would be a really bad idea.”

“How so?”

“Beau wouldn’t like it.”

“I didn’t ask Beau, I asked you.”

“Why do I get the feeling nothing pleases you more than getting under Beau’s skin?”

“You misread me, Dimples. There’s a lot of things that give me more pleasure than irritating Beau Trainer.” The way he looked at her made it pretty clear what sort of things would give him pleasure.

“It wouldn’t work.”

“You’d be doing me a big favor. It’ll be awhile before the motorcycle shop starts turning a profit and I could use the rent money.”

No. Just firmly say no.

“I’d promise to keep my hands to myself. No more tricks like the fake skinny-dipping.”

“
That
goes without saying. How much do you want for rent?”

He named a very reasonable price. Too reasonable.

Was he making the offer merely to cause trouble between her and Beau? Was that the reason he was really here? “You could rent it out to someone else for more than that.”

“I could, but who better to rent to than a knitting store? All those motherly types coming and going. I’m sure to get a lot of casseroles as a side benefit.”

“It wouldn’t come without strings,” she pointed
out. “Those kindly motherly types bearing bachelor casseroles would expect you to tinker with their cars.”

“Small price to pay for homemade chicken à la king.”

“You have been in prison too long if that’s your biggest ambition.” The minute she said it, she could have bitten off her snarky tongue. What in the hell was wrong with her?

Jesse laughed, and relief poured through her. She hadn’t offended him. “So what do you say? Become my chicken à la king pipeline?”

“It’s very tempting when you put it like that…” She wanted to say yes, to accept his offer, but there was the not-so-small matter of her fiancé. “But I’m certain Beau wouldn’t approve.”

Jesse got to his feet. “By all means, let’s make sure that Matt Dillon signs off on this one.”

She got to her feet as well. “Thanks for the offer. It was nice of you to think of me.”

“Hey, it’s the least I could do since I bought the place out from under you.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m going to still keep looking for a place of my own,” she said.

“I gotcha.” He nodded. “I can leave the offer on the table for a month. But after that I really will need to get some rent money coming in.”

“I understand.”

They stood looking at each other, neither one of them moving. In an oak tree along the bank, an owl hooted eerily. Time and history stretched between them, a palpable thing. Tension rose up, curling through her, swirling around him, silently ensnaring them in the question of what might have been.

She dropped her gaze, but it landed on the length of his long bare legs. A trickle of sweat slid down the back of her neck in spite of the breeze rolling off the river. The pulse in her throat skittered, and she experienced a rush of sexual awareness so potent she had to bite down on her bottom lip.

His breathing sped up; she could hear him raggedly pulling air into his lungs, saw to her surprise that his hand was trembling oh so slightly. Bravely she lifted her head and met his gaze once more. He was staring at her so intently she wondered if he could see the bead of sweat that had traced from her neck, down her shoulder, and was now sliding slowly between her breasts. But he couldn’t have seen it in the darkness. Somehow he just instinctively knew what was going on in her body.