Authors: Amanda McIntyre
“No, Betsy. It is not because of any man.” The words ground through her clenched teeth, and she realized that none of this was her friend’s fault. “I’m sorry. This has been…well, it’s been a rough day.”
“Well bless your heart. Why don’t you let Jack take you somewhere nice for dinner?” Her voice was soothing and part of Tess wanted to just let go and agree, but she knew the minute she did, Jack Trenton would be moving his things in her house and blissfully commuting daily from there. She needed time to clean up and prepare what she was going to have to say to him.
“I’ll let you go, Betsy. You have a nice weekend, okay?”
“You want me to show up unexpectedly?” Betsy offered and Tess nearly took her up on it.
“No, I need to talk to Jack and find out what’s going on in that analytical mind of his.”
“Okay, but I’ll be waiting to hear how it goes.”
No more so than I am
. “Okay, bye Betsy.” She replaced the receiver and stared out the front screen door. He’d be there soon, if he left town when Betsy predicted he had.
She turned and went upstairs to shower, hoping Jack would be so disgusted with shopping for jeans, he’d give up on the idea all together.
* * *
Tess took a quick glance around the supper club, hoping no one she knew was there. After the unpleasant surprise of seeing Gabe in the arms of—she wondered if that was the famous Mrs. Crane? If so, she certainly stood no chance with Gabe with the likes of
her
draped all over him.
S
o what? Did she really want someone who flitted from woman to woman like they were
hors d’ oeuvres
?
“Well it’s not the
Anvil Club
, but it’s not bad I suppose for a little town.” Jack slid in to the chair across from her after he’d held hers.
If nothing else, he was a gentleman,
so far.
She felt a little guilty for her thoughts. Jack had never given her reason to believe otherwise.
He tugged on what she decided was a new sweater probably bought for just this special little
country
trip. She’d never seen Jack in anything but a suit since she’d known him. The closest to casual was a quick glimpse of him in shorts and a T-shirt, as he ducked into the office after a noon racquetball session.
“It’s amazing how places like this survive in these little wide spots in the road.” Jack reached across the table and gently touched her forearm. “You feeling okay?”
“I guess I’d forgotten you were coming this weekend, I wasn’t quite prepared.” She pulled her arm away and slid her hands into her lap.
He tipped his head, letting his hand rest on the table. He fiddled then with his napkin giving her a questioning look. “Does that mean you’re disappointed I’m here?” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his tweed fatigue sweater.
Tess glanced up, realizing how handsome her boss really was. He was, she knew, the
whole
package in the eyes of scores of women. Young, smart, successful, shrewd, and gorgeous. “No Jack, that’s not what I—”
“Did I interrupt other plans?” His gaze narrowed as his smile faded.
Tess added possessive to her list of Jack’s attributes. “No Jack.”
“Well, good.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his eyes dancing in the candle’s glow. “Let’s enjoy the evening then. Tell me what you’ve managed to do with the house?” He signaled the waiter.
She decided, given her present state of confusion, that perhaps the best thing to do was to relax and appreciate a nice dinner. “I’ve managed to do a little repainting. It’s going to take time, but it’s been fun.” She avoided saying it had also served as good therapy to work on something that she could call her own, nor did she think mentioning the fact that she’d hired help, specifically male help, to aid her was a good idea. Better to keep the focus on business and less on her personal life. He had the tendency to want to take care of everything for her, regardless of her opinion.
She experienced a twinge of guilt knotting in her stomach thinking poorly of Jack in that way after he’d been so thoughtful in arranging for her home. But for what gain? She knew Jack rarely did anything that would not ultimately bring benefit to Jack.
“Tell me how everyone is doing? How’s Betsy? How’s Evelyn, the new receptionist?” She raised her water glass to her lips and peered over the rim, seeing Jack’s frown.
“Do we have to discuss work? Besides, don’t you talk to Betsy every day anyway?” He scanned the wine list in his hand, glanced at her, then pointed out his choice to the waiter.
Tess waited until they were alone. “Not every day.” She shifted in her chair, concerned that her phone calls on company time had served to get Betsy in trouble. Concentrating on positioning her fork and knife, she did not look up.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine with me, really.”
She looked up, seeing a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Besides, it’s about the only way I hear what’s going on in your life, since you refuse to call me yourself.” He gave her a wry smile.
It took everything she had in her to stay attached to the seat. Inside, she wanted to run from the restaurant, back to the solitude of her little home. An image of long vine-like tendrils emerging from Jack’s hands popped into her head. Little by little, they encircled her ankles, then her legs, wrapping around her until she couldn’t breath.
She held her hand to her throat as she stared at him. “Jack, I’ve been awfully busy getting settled, renovating, budgeting—”
“Are you having financial trouble?” He sat straight, his body alert, his brows pressed together.
In a moment, she knew he’d be reaching for his checkbook. “No, really, I’m fine.” She glanced at the wine the waiter had poured earlier. “There’s nothing wrong with budgeting.”
“Nope.” He lifted his glass and she wondered if he was pondering something. He was. “No time for a social life, either I suppose?” He took a sip, raising a brow as he glanced her way. Betsy had obviously elaborated on her visit. Tess wondered how much and what interpretation Jack was given.
“No social life at all in fact, unless friends come to visit.” She thrust her chin up in defiance.
“Well then, at least I must qualify as a friend.” He glanced away, then grinned as he returned his gaze to hers.
“Jack.” She pressed two fingers to her forehead and stared at her plate.
“I’d just like for you to relax and see where this goes, Tess. I’m sure, by now, you can see that I’m attracted to you.” He lifted his glass, staring at it as if studying the burgundy color of the liquid inside.
“Jack, please—”
“Let’s order, have a pleasant evening, and see what happens? Maybe you’ll find me irresistible. Others haven’t been able to resist my charms, you know.” He took a sip of wine, gave her a wink, and grinned.
She wanted to go home—preferably alone.
Yet it was nine o’clock on a Friday evening and Jack had driven a long way. While that only produced mixed feelings somewhere between guilt and claustrophobia, she decided that the alternative was to be home pining away about her brief, but purely physical brush with a handsome cowboy whose reputation, it looked, as though he enjoyed.
Why shouldn’t she enjoy a pleasant meal and be treated by a gentleman to a nice evening? An hour at best, and Jack would be back on the road to Davenport. She could handle that. All she had to do is get Jack talking about himself.
“So, I’d like to hear about the quarterly report and Jack, tell me where did you get these clothes?” She lifted her glass, nodding a silent toast, then took a deep swallow.
Nearly three hours later, after lengthy dissertations on casual clothes and buying marketing ploys, it was close to eleven PM before they finally received their bill.
Jack grinned as he slipped the credit card on the waiter’s tray. “Things certainly move at their own pace around here, don’t they?”
She leaned her elbow to the table, resting her cheek to her hand. “I had no idea they still served in courses. You’ll be okay driving back this late, won’t you? They have coffee at the gas station—”
His dubious expression cut her off.
“You don’t expect me to drive back at this hour, do you? I hardly got to see the house or what you’ve done with it.” He stood quickly, pushing in his chair, and made a point of holding hers as she stood. Her legs trembled slightly, confirming the icy cold sensation erupting in the pit of her stomach.
Surely, he didn’t expect more?
“Oh, you’ve made reservations somewhere?” Her hope was waning, but she turned to him just the same plastering on an over bright smile. His face was within inches of hers.
“Tess, you know how picky I am about strange motel rooms. Can you imagine
me
in a sleazy small-town motel?” He placed his hand to the small of her back and guided her to the door. “You’ve more than enough room don’t you?”
The suggestive tone in his voice stopped her in her tracks.
“I have one functioning bed.”
“That’s all I need.” His grin was sly.
“Jack? What are you implying?”
He stepped back holding his hands in front of him in defense. “Not a thing and if you’d rather I take the couch, I’d be happy to trade.”
Trade?
Someone who could be so outlandish and so completely full of himself couldn’t possibly create much harm. She cast her gaze to the ceiling, not believing the words she heard issue from her own mouth. “Fine. You can stay, but first thing in the morning, you are out of here, Jack. I have a million things to do before I return to work.”
He slid his arm across her shoulders, as though he thought it belonged there as he opened the door for her.
“Oh and Jack?” She turned, giving him a sweet smile, “you have the couch.”
Chapter Nine
Gabe kicked himself a dozen times for leaving his toolbox at the farm. His jaw twitched under the strain as he clenched his teeth. Facing Tess’s wrath was not a pleasant thought. Maybe she’d give him a chance to explain. Maybe he could sort out his feelings by talking to her. A faint smile played on his lips and his mind wandered to a nice cup of coffee and a visit with her on the porch swing. His spirit lifted a bit simply thinking about the excellent way to start his morning.
He looked up at the tightly drawn shades and took odd comfort in the familiar sight. Maybe it would be better to sneak in and sneak out, and not have to face her. The shock and hurt on her face at the garage had stayed with him through most of his sleepless night. If he were going to rest any easier, he’d do well to lay all his cards on the table.
When did she say she started back to work?
He pulled the pickup as close to the barn as possible, carefully shutting the door until he heard a faint click. He gathered his tools quickly and placed them in the back of the truck, but as he dropped the last box in his pickup bed he looked up and there she stood staring at him from the porch.
Something twisted in his gut. She’d probably thought he wasn’t going to finish the job. Gabe chewed the inside of his lip, making the decision to go talk to her, though he’d sooner walk a bed of coals.
“Morning.” He gave an amiable tip with his hat.
Her expression remained unchanged. Though they stood less than three feet apart, it might as well have been a hundred miles.
He cleared his throat. “Got a job on Monday over in Essex. I left my toolbox here. I just came to get it.”
Well, this was going over even worse than he possibly imagined.
“Tess, about the other day—” He eyed the coffee in her hand, hoping fervently that she would offer him a cup. Suddenly, he wanted to sit on the porch with her and watch the sun break through the clouds. Just once again, he’d love to see that wrinkle on her nose when she smiled.
“You don’t owe me any explanation.” Her voice was as cold as a metal tractor seat in winter. She wrapped her flannel robe around her as though protecting herself from him. “You got what you came for, didn’t you?”
He knew something more lay beneath her words. God, he wanted to tell her about Mrs. Crane. He needed to explain how many times she’d tried and failed to seduce him. He wanted to see her laugh at some of his bizarre stories. But guilt stopped him.
He’d started out with the idea that she wasn’t going to be around long and he’d taken advantage of her and her money to make repairs on the place that he wanted more than he wanted her. Now she believed he was a two-timing hustler and wasn’t he? Hadn’t he played her for his own gain? What would it matter now if he told her the truth? Somewhere along the line, the stakes had changed. He found himself driven to make the repairs on the farm, because she
needed
him, not because he was waiting for her to leave.
He was falling in love with her, of that there was little doubt, and his heart ached to think that he might have allowed the best thing he’d ever known to slip through his fingers. Well, this morning he planned to straighten out all the misconceptions. He knew he had to try to make things right,
because he didn’t want her to leave.
“Tess, Can we talk—”
“Is this decaf, Tess? You know I can’t drink the other.”
A strange voice interrupted the plans he was about to suggest. The man standing on the other side of the screen was partially dressed in jeans, his shirt hung open, but his expression remained closed. “Everything okay out here, Tess?” His voice sounded cautious and much too intimate with her name.
Gabe stared at Tess, hoping to read something in her eyes. Was this Richard? He wanted her to say this wasn’t what it looked like. He moistened his lips, swallowing for the dryness that had overtaken his mouth.
She held his gaze, not offering him anything in the way of explanation.
Gabe glanced at the ground. Part of him wanted to walk past her and throw the stranger out of the house, but the other part knew it was not his house, it was hers, and she dictated who was invited or not. Another glance at the stranger’s face told Gabe
he
was on the uninvited list.
“I’ll finish the barn next week.” He turned and began to walk away.
“I’ll be in and out all week, so I won’t probably see you.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. He stopped, turned around, and held her stony gaze. “Fine.”
She’d made her point, the man standing behind her spoke volumes. She didn’t need to drive the stake any deeper. He turned around taking long strides to his truck.
“Fine.”
Her voice slammed against his back like a brick, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of turning around.
* * *
“He looked a little like those red-neck boys you hear about.”
Tess whirled toward, issuing him a glare of warning.
His brows rose into his bleach blonde hair and he held up his hands in defense. “Sorry, just my observation. Someone you are, uh…acquainted with?” His gaze narrowed slightly as he followed Gabe’s truck doing a U-turn in the yard, slicing up the grass in the process.
The vehicle paused in front of the porch and Tess saw Jack straighten, his hand on the door handle.
“Fine.” Gabe yelled from the cab as he purposely spun his wheels out in the gravel lane.
Tess stomped her foot so hard to the porch floor that pain shot straight up her leg. “Dammit.” She turned, wishing she could snatch that irritating cowboy ball-headed.
Of all the nerve of that egotistical son-of-a—
“Well, now we know what the neighbors are like.”
She faced Jack, looking for a way to vent her wrath. “Don’t you need to leave? I thought I was pretty clear at dinner where I stood with you.”
“It was kind of you to invite me to stay the night.” He used the voice he often used to sooth angry clients.
She knew it was a façade. “I didn’t invite you. You whined that it was too late and you didn’t want to spend the night in a seedy motel as I recall.” She grappled for some semblance of control of her emotions.
“Regardless, it shows you care.” He opened the door preparing to come out to the porch.
“I’m giving you fifteen minutes.” She pointed her finger directly at him and he stopped in his tracks.
“No country ham, and grits?” He smiled and though he was charming when he wanted to be, he was also insistent and just a little too sure of himself.
Egotistica
l came to mind and Tess gave a short laugh thinking of the three men she’d known in her life.
I need to get a dog.
She stared at him another minute. He shrugged his shoulder and sighed.
“I can see you need time to think.”
Tess cast a glance to the sky, amazed at the man’s tenacity.
Was it going to take a two-by-four?
“That is an understatement.”
“You’ll call me the minute your head clears. I want to be here.” Jack finished buttoning his shirt as he spoke.
Tess studied him as he dressed. Jack was handsome in his own Princeton sort of way. He was everything that personified the city. He had his schedules, his noon racquetball game, his double lattes, but he did not, nor would he ever, possess her heart.
“Jack. There won’t be a time like
that
,” Her voice softened. “I am grateful, I’m pretty sure…for you finding me this place. It’s everything I dreamed of. But
my
dream didn’t come with a ready-made man on the premises.”
He arched a brow and she knew he questioned Gabe’s presence.
“He’s a handyman. That’s all.”
“What’s his name?” He bent over to pull on his leather moccasin loafers.
“Gabe Russell.” Tess glanced away with a sigh and looked back to find Jack’s face flushed red. “Is there something wrong?”
Jack shook his head, “I’ll get my things and move along. I’ve taken up too much of your day already.” He disappeared and moments later returned with his small gym bag. “Take care, Tess.” He stopped in front of her briefly studying her face.
She wanted to say something; this was her boss, the man who’d found her this wonderful place, who’d gotten her a promotion. “Jack, I’d like to be friends—”
He dropped the bag and grabbed her shoulders. Tess could have sworn she saw pain, or was it guilt in those eyes? Then he kissed her. Not soft and sweet like Gabe’s, but hard and desperate. More of a good-bye kiss. He dropped his hands, picked up his bag, and left without a word. Not a wave, nothing. He just drove away.
Tess fell into the porch swing staring at the taillights of Jack’s car. She didn’t think she would ever understand men.
* * *
“Are you sure this is all right, Mr. Powell?” Tess rubbed the puppy’s head. She’d seen the ad at the grocery store for black Labrador puppies and decided to take her Sunday afternoon to check it out.
“I think he’ll be good company out there on the farm. Where’d you say your place was?” The old man smiled as he watched how the puppy responded to Tess. “I think you’ve found a friend.”
“That would be nice.” Tess smiled up at him. “I’m out off Highway 20, just a couple miles from town. What do I owe you?”
“You pay me whatever you can.”
“Mr. Powell.” Tess stood, straightening her shoulders and leveled a look at him. “How much are you selling the dogs for?”
He frowned and glanced down at the two small puppies running circles in the small fenced in area. “Fifty dollars.”
“Are you sure?” Tess stared wide-eyed at him. You couldn’t touch a purebred dog for less than five hundred in many places. She narrowed her gaze on the old man. He averted his eyes.
Silence hung between them. “Well, then may I have him and his brother?”
The man stroked his beardless chin. “I suppose we could work something out.” Tess handed him five twenty-dollar bills and knelt as the puppies engulfed her with wiggles and kisses. She soaked up the unconditional affection and then smiled at the old farmer.
“You’ve made me very happy, Mr. Powell.” She laughed and closed her eyes as the dogs bounced over her lap trying to get to her face.