Chapter Eight
“Sometimes a man can come in handy. But then . . . you also have fingers for that.”
—Blu Johnson, life lesson #89
Good thing we’re not planning on having sex, then.
Jill stared at the cards in her hand, but as had been the case with every round they’d played during the last two hours, she couldn’t concentrate.
Good thing we’re not planning on having sex.
Why had he brought that up? But then, why had she?
Because the only thing she’d now thought about for days was having sex with Cal.
“Rummy!” Heather slapped her cards on the table, fanning them out, then held her arms up as if she’d just kicked a field goal. “Boom. In your face.”
Jill and Trenton both leaned forward to scrutinize the winning hand, while Aunt Blu tossed down a shot of whiskey.
“I swear, you girls want to play rummy just to see me get drunk,” Aunt Blu said, her words slightly slurred. “Father Kibby is going to give me the evil eye tomorrow morning.”
“Father Kibby will only give you the evil eye because you didn’t invite him over to share.” Trenton eyed the bottle of Jim Beam while Heather poured.
“Bottoms up, ladies.”
Jill and Trenton downed their shots.
“Good Josephine, Heather.” Trenton coughed. “Give us a break with this stuff.”
“No one breaks until—”
“I call uncle.” Jill raised her hand. “You know whiskey isn’t my thing.”
In fact, drinking was rarely her thing. Mostly just when they had Saturday-night game nights, and only then if Aunt Blu had no girls. Seeing as there were currently no foster girls in the house, she and Trenton would both be staying the night with Heather. Assuming they could even make it down to her place in the dark.
“I double her uncle,” Aunt Blu announced with one finger raised in the air and her eyes half-shut. She pushed back from the table, but didn’t go anywhere. She just sat there blinking, as if trying to bring the room into focus. “How many hands did I lose?”
“All of them,” Heather snickered.
“And Jill and I only won one each,” Trenton added. She licked a drop of whiskey off the side of her thumb.
Other than Heather, they were all about half a gust of wind from falling face-first on the floor, and calling uncle admitted it. And all of them hated calling uncle.
“Trenton?” Heather prodded.
Trenton groaned. “Uncle.”
Heather stood and did her victory dance. Which looked very similar to a chicken dance.
“So how’s the house coming?” Aunt Blu asked. She stared a little too hard at Heather, likely directing the question at her simply because Heather was the one who sat directly across from her.
“The house is coming along great,” Heather answered. “We got most of the drywall up already, the wiring and plumbing finished this morning, and we start mudding and putting the windows in next week.”
“We also have these cool beams ordered for the living room ceiling,” Jill added. “Totally perfect for Texas. You should come out and see it.”
Aunt Blu had been to the house before they’d started demo, but she hadn’t wanted to be in the way after that. She preferred doing the whole “before and after” thing if she could stay away until the work was done. “I’ll get out there eventually.” She had her eyes closed again. “That little fella called me today. Wants to interview me in a couple a weeks.”
Jill smiled. Aunt Blu called Patrick “that little fella,” and Jill thought it fit.
“I’ll prolly wait until then to come out.” Aunt Blu nodded, then she swayed in her chair.
Trenton and Jill reached out to steady her.
“Want us to help you to bed?” Jill asked.
She was rewarded with a hazy gray-eyed glare. “I am not ready for bed, and when I am, I’ll see myself to gettin’ there.” She turned to Trenton. “Everyone in town is talking about you running off with Cal the other day. What was that about?”
Trenton pointed to Jill, and Aunt Blu swung her gaze back to the other side of the table.
“They said you were gone a long time.” Blu now spoke to Jill.
“I was,” Jill admitted. “That little fella ticked me off, and I needed to cool down.”
“So you went on a drive with Cal?”
Jill really didn’t want to go into the specifics. Heather and Trenton had grilled her over it when she’d returned, of course, and she’d told them about Patrick pushing for details concerning the day of. She hadn’t explained in depth what she’d truly flipped out about, or why she’d gone after Cal when she had, but given that Cal had been playing into Patrick’s games to get them on screen together, she’d let them believe she’d thought Cal had a part in it.
She’d spoken to Patrick upon returning, as well, and as Cal had guessed, the only specifics the show had were what had come from the police report. She’d made it clear once again that the day of was off limits, and that if they didn’t adhere to that deal, then she would be done. They could sue her for the rest of her life if they wanted, but she’d walk. And Heather and Jill would go with her.
They’d agreed.
“I went on a drive with Cal because I thought he’d set me up,” Jill told Aunt Blu now. “He shoved me in his truck to keep me from beating the crap out of him in front of everyone, and we were heading down the road before I realized what was going on.”
“Good for him.” Blu turned her shot glass upside down on the table and leaned in to peer through the bottom part of the glass. “That boy always did care about you.”
No one said anything for a moment, and Jill reached out to scoop up the cards. She didn’t intend to deal another round, but shuffling them would keep her hands busy. At the same time, Trenton reached over and stole a chocolate-covered raisin from Aunt Blu’s bowl. Blu smacked Trenton’s hand.
“They also say you’ve been more mellow since that ride,” Aunt Blu continued.
Jill frowned. No one had seen her be anything but mellow until she’d flown into a rage and run across the yard. In fact, they’d seen nothing remotely similar to that in twelve years—the chair incident at the café notwithstanding. But memories were long in their town, and one mistake could bring it all back. “I am more mellow,” she assured her foster mother. “It wasn’t my best look that day, so I refuse to go off like that again.”
“Good. I always hated getting that call.”
“That call” would be the two times Jill got picked up by the police for fighting. She’d not been the easiest teenager to take in.
Aunt Blu scrunched her nose then and peered down toward her mouth. She’d apparently moved beyond talking about that week’s episode at the house and was now trying to see her own nose. Jill kept a straight face because Blu hated when they got her drunk and laughed at her, but Heather wasn’t so chivalrous. She flat-out chortled.
“Your nose is still there, Aunt Blu.”
Blu slapped her hand on the table and looked at Heather. “I reckon I know there’s a nose there. I was just trying to see if it’s my nose or someone else’s.”
Jill and Trenton joined in on the laughter, and as Blu tried to shoot them both her evil glare, they reached out to once again steady her. “It’s your nose, Aunt Blu,” Jill assured her. “No one switched it out when you weren’t looking.”
“Good. Because you know people do that.”
Jill nodded. “I know.” She inched her bottle of water closer to her foster mother, but didn’t suggest she drink it. Blu didn’t take the hint. Jill went back to shuffling the cards as Aunt Blu tried again to see her nose, and Heather rose to get more water for everyone. Trenton muttered something about peeing on herself if she didn’t get to the bathroom and left the room, stumbling only slightly when she got up too fast.
Jill stayed where she was. And she thought about Cal.
And that drive.
And the fact that Cal had a three-hundred-acre farm that no one but she knew about.
She’d run those facts through her head multiple times over the last few days. Never would she have pictured that kind of acreage for Cal. Not that it was hard to come by in their part of Texas, but just that it seemed so . . . settled.
Yes, they’d gotten married, and yes, leading up to that marriage, they’d talked of building their own home someday. And filling it with kids. But she’d always imagined their home would be much less rustic and in a much more populated area. With maybe a quarter acre of land.
Yet the pride that had washed over Cal while looking out over his property had been unmistakable. He was in love with the spot he was carving out for himself, and she could see why. She just couldn’t figure out his reasoning for being so secretive about it.
She kind of liked knowing she was the only person he’d told, though.
“What do you think, Jilly?”
Jill pulled her attention back from Cal and realized that Trenton had returned to the table. She’d brought the basket of leftover rolls from dinner, and she passed them around. Jill took one, needing to soak up some of the whiskey swilling around inside her. Aunt Blu did not.
“What do I think about what?” Jill asked.
Trenton nodded to Heather. “About Heather fixing you up with Little Red.”
“Who’s Little Red?” Aunt Blu squawked out.
Jill just stared. What had she missed?
“He works for Cal,” Heather explained to Aunt Blu. “He’s this sweetheart of a man who looks like he shouldn’t even be old enough to drive, much less date, but he’s totally got the hots for our Jill.”
“He doesn’t have the hots,” Jill protested.
Heather smiled innocently. “Yet look at you. You’re blushing just like Little Red does when he looks at you.”
Jill made a face at Heather. She was blushing and she knew it. But only because it was so endearing the way Doug’s cheeks heated every time he saw her.
“And for the record,” Heather continued, “the whole thing wasn’t my idea, but I do think you should do it. He stopped me yesterday, asking about you. Said he wouldn’t be back at the house for a couple of weeks, but he was ‘surely hoping’ to see you before then.” She waggled her brows at Jill. “He practically begged me to set something up.”
“I hope you told him no.”
“I told him I’d do my best.”
“Heather. You know I don’t date.”
“Well, I think you should date,” Aunt Blu announced. Her words came out a little too loud, and she reached over and patted Jill’s hand. “You haven’t been out with a man since you came home.”
Jill put a hand over Blu’s. “I haven’t been out because I don’t want to, Aunt Blu. And that hasn’t changed.”
“But it could change.” The look in the other woman’s face was earnest, if a little glazed. “A woman needs a man once in a while.”
Jill knew the words weren’t meant to hurt, yet they stabbed anyway. The statement was eerily reminiscent of what her mother used to say.
Janet Sadler would follow up her words by pointing out that Jill was more like her than she realized, and that she’d someday understand. All women needed a good man in their life. It’s what made them whole.
But Jill didn’t understand. She was fine just as she was.
She’d convinced herself she did one time, though. That her mother had been right.
Jill had been trying her entire life not to be needy. Not to be like her mom. But then she’d met Cal, and he’d simply gotten her. Even when they’d been fighting—and they’d fought a lot—they’d connected in a way she’d never expected to find with another person. So she’d given in. She was just like her mom, and she’d finally understood the need for a good man.
Only, turned out he hadn’t been so good, after all. He’d left her in the exact fashion as her mother’s last “good man” had done.
“I really don’t need one,” Jill said again. “And honestly, the only thing I can think a man would be even the slightest bit useful for would be sex. And . . . well . . .” Jill held up her hands, palms up, and Aunt Blu nodded solemnly.
“Right,” Aunt Blu said. “You’ve got fingers for that.”
Trenton and Heather both dunked their heads at Blu’s words. The woman was a trip when she was drinking, and she’d been right. They liked to talk her into playing rummy just to get her drunk. She never won at the card game, and it was one of the few times Jill and the others ever felt they had the upper hand around Blu.
“Sure we can’t put you to bed?” Jill asked.
Blu held up one hand and waggled her fingers in the air. “Because you think I don’t need a man, either?”
“Aunt Blu!” Heather huffed out. “Behave yourself. What would Father Kibby think?”
“He’d probably think that I do need a man.” She squinted in concentration. “And he might be right.”
“He’s not right.” Jill put the water bottle directly into Blu’s hand that time.
“Well, I stand by my statement,” Heather continued. “Jill should go out with Little Red, if for no other reason than to have some fun.”
“And you know that if I did go out with him, it would end up on camera for all to see. Heck, Len would probably follow us on our date.”
“Len is Big Red,” Heather explained to Aunt Blu. “He’s Jilly’s personal cameraman.”
“He’s a pain in my ass,” Jill grumbled.
“I think you should go out with him because it’ll end up on camera,” Trenton told her. “That would take some of the focus off you and Cal.”
Aunt Blu’s water bottle dropped from the table and rolled across the floor. “Vote,” she announced, ignoring the escaping water. Then she raised her hand.
Heather and Trenton followed suit.
“We are not voting on whether I’m going out with Little Red or not.”
“Three to one,” Blu announced. She slapped her hand on the table. “Done!”
The driver of the car behind Cal laid on his horn as he pulled out into the other lane, and passed Cal doing no more than the speed limit. Cal looked down at his odometer. No wonder the other driver had gotten ticked off. They were out on the open highway, and the needle on Cal’s truck pointed to forty.
He pressed the gas pedal, nudging his speed higher, but didn’t force it all that much. He was enjoying his Sunday-afternoon drive, and no one would rush him through it. He’d just spent the last few hours with his grandmother, and though anxious to get back to his farm—to work on the table he’d decided to build for the Cadillac House—he was equally excited to do exactly what he was doing at the moment. Which was driving. And thinking about Jill.
He hit the button to lower the driver’s window as he hung a right onto the road leading to his property, and a waft of good ole Texas air passed over him. There was nothing quite like his home state. Just as there was no one quite like his ex.
He’d had Jill in his truck the other day. And she’d actually talked to him.
Granted, she hadn’t freely climbed inside, nor had their conversation been what anyone would ever term as cordial. At least, not at first. But then it had slipped beyond that, and he’d seen parts of the girl he’d once fallen in love with. Jill was still Jill. Angry, passionate, bold. And stubborn. Always so stubborn.
But also soft.
He thought about the look on her face when she’d been picturing his land with life on it—she’d even picked out a spot to build a barn—and he let out a wry chuckle. All this time, he’d thought her silence had merely been an annoyance to him. That he’d simply wanted to “win”—therefore, he’d sought to break her down and make her speak to him. Yet when he’d had her in his truck . . .
He stared blankly at the road in front of him. When he’d had her in his truck, he’d wanted to keep her there. He’d wanted her naked. In his bed. In the very spot she’d pictured horses running.
Up against the tree that shaded the front of his house.
He held back the groan the thought provoked. What the hell had that been about? He’d truly had no idea he had any remaining feelings for her. Not those kind of feelings, anyway.
He blinked as another car whipped around him, and he realized that he’d once again let off the gas pedal. He then forced himself to pick up speed. Maybe he could be rushed that afternoon, after all. Otherwise his daydreaming would likely get him and others into an accident.
And the thing was, he shouldn’t be daydreaming at all. At least, not about Jill.
His phone rang as he passed a tractor and closed in on his driveway, and though he suspected the call to be from the woman he was dating—who was the only one he should be daydreaming about—he found himself hesitant to answer. Marci had gone to Dallas for the weekend to “punish” him for canceling on her the Saturday before, and he kind of didn’t want his punishment to end.
But that was just him being a jerk. It was also the type of thinking that always precipitated the ending of his relationships.
He pulled out his phone. Marci was a good woman. She didn’t deserve his attitude.
But the number on the screen was Pete’s.
“Hey, man.” Cal turned into his driveway. “Everything okay?” Instead of checking in on any of the worksites the day before, he’d decided to push through Pete’s raise. Things were running smoothly with his foreman at the helm, so Cal had taken a small breather from the Cadillac project and had spent the day at his farm. Right after he’d bought the place, he’d converted an old barn into a workshop. The place had become his go-to for de-stressing, but it had been weeks since he’d had any time to spend there.
“Right as rain.” Pete gave a quick rundown on a couple of the newer jobs they’d started work on, then segued into their weekly basketball game at the rec center. “We going to see you today?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” They met up with several guys at the rec center every Sunday night.
He crested the ridge of his property and headed down the hill. The feeling of being home rolled through him.
“Want to a grab a bite first?” Pete asked. “Or are you with Marci today?”
Cal eyed the grill he’d purchased the day before, where it sat on his front porch, waiting to be assembled. Then he shifted his gaze to the basketball hoop he’d erected on the other side of his workshop. He had plenty of space here. He could invite the whole group out.
But then, concrete hadn’t been poured for the basketball court yet. And he’d have to run to the store if he offered to grill steaks.
“Not with Marci,” he finally answered. He put the truck into park. “I’ll just meet you at the rec center, though. Got too much going on this afternoon.”
He and Pete disconnected, but Cal didn’t get out of his truck. Because he was thinking about Jill again. About how he’d brought her out here when he’d yet to tell anyone else about the place.
Why had he done that?
And did it even matter? They’d been driving, taking in the sights. It only made sense he’d naturally head this way.
Only, it hadn’t made sense that he’d turn into his drive.
And it sure as hell hadn’t made sense to picture her in his house. Or to put her there naked.
He let out a growl when that very vision once again popped to mind, and stepped from the vehicle. The wise thing would be to forget all thoughts of Jill, bare breasted or otherwise. Maybe to call up his girlfriend and offer an apology. Take her to dinner tonight instead of playing ball with the boys.
However, he’d proven time and again that he wasn’t always so wise. And something told him this time would be no different.