CHAPTER THREE
“Am I boring you?” Lila said.
Jenny jerked upright, opening her eyes wide. “What? No.”
Lila yawned. “Just boring myself, then? Cool.”
Jenny echoed the yawn, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She blinked rapidly. “What time is it? And did I fall asleep in the nachos?”
Lila checked her phone. She pulled a face. “Ugh. This is pathetic. It isn’t even ten.”
“And the nachos?” Jenny patted her hair, checking for salsa.
“It’s possible. Pretty sure I was talking to Kurt at twenty after nine, which leaves approximately fifteen minutes unaccounted for, during which we may have both fallen asleep.”
Sitting there like a pair of old ladies on a park bench having a nap in the sun. Awesome. “We are total rock stars,” Jenny said.
“Right?” Lila examined Jenny’s hair. “All clear. No salsa. No cheese.”
Jenny yawned again. “I don’t think we’ll be closing the bar down tonight, Lila.”
“Thank God. I was in the office at six this morning. I want to go to bed so bad.” She broke off to watch Kurt walk past. When she didn’t say anything more, he stopped and stared at her for a second, shook his head, and walked on. “You see that?” Lila drooped and rested her forehead on the arms she’d crossed on the shiny wood. “I couldn’t even make it into a dirty comment to tempt Kurt. And that one was easy.”
“You won’t hate me if I float the suggestion we wrap this up?”
“Bless you, no.”
“We are still rock stars, though?”
“Yep.”
“Good. For a moment there, I thought we were a worn-out old part-time student slash part-time garden center employee slash full-time mother, and a workaholic gym bunny.”
“I take offense at that term.” Lila slid off her stool. “I am not a workaholic.” She smoothed down her shirt. “And you’re not old.”
Jenny felt it, though. Man, did she feel it.
“Also, lest we forget, I am no longer a student,” Jenny said. Lila held up a hand and they high-fived.
Getting a bottle of tequila down from the top shelf, Kurt glanced over and winced at their clumsy almost-miss. “Neither of you are driving home. Gimme your keys. I’ll call a cab.”
“We’re tired, not drunk,” Jenny said.
“With that aim, you’re still not getting behind a wheel. Rock star.”
Jenny wrinkled her nose at him. “Wasn’t going to, anyway. It’s a nice night. I think I’ll walk home.” The time for driving had passed when she’d decided to have a second drink. She wasn’t stupid.
“I know where you live, honey,” Kurt said. “Take you an hour and a half to walk home.”
“I’m in shape. I exercise. I am perfectly capable of walking for an hour and a half.” Maybe she was stupid. Hiking home in the dark didn’t sound like fun.
“Don’t have to give yourself blisters to prove it, Finley,” Derek said behind her. To Kurt, he said, “Forget the cab. I’ll take them home.”
“I don’t think we’ll all fit on the back of your Harley,” Jenny said, “but thanks. We’ll stick with the cab.”
Derek grinned. “Told you a hundred times, Jen, bike’s a Triumph. And I’m driving tonight.”
“Then let’s go.” Lila tugged Jenny off the stool. “Unless you want to wait for the cab, and seeing as this is Frank’s busiest night, it might be quicker to walk after all.”
She had a point. Frank, once a feared high school principal, although before Jenny’s time, was now Emerson’s premier cab driver.
“Are you sure, Derek?” Jenny asked. “I’d hate for you to go out of your way.”
“Mmm.” He put a hand to the small of her back and started her moving through the crowd. “You know I’d drive around the world for you.”
Jenny glanced up at him, startled, but he’d said it absently and was now doing a few guy-taking-leave-of-his-buddies hand gestures and chin lifts to the group at his table.
Or he was telling them to go fuck themselves. She didn’t speak dude.
“We’re leaving, then,” Lila said. “Great. Oh. Silly me. Forgot one thing.” She popped up onto her toes, leaning into the bar. “Kiss goodnight?” she said to Kurt and batted her lashes.
He clenched his jaw and gave a single shake of his head, but his eyes were laughing.
Jenny reached back, hooking Lila around the waist. “Hard to get,” she whispered. “Give it a shot.”
“I’m wearing him down, I can tell.”
“Be careful, Lila, because I think you could be right. I don’t know if even you could handle Kurt.”
“I do know I’d die happy trying.”
Jenny groaned.
“Why the groaning?” Derek glanced down at her, easing them through the crowd.
“Thinking about Kurt,” Jenny said.
Derek tensed.
“And me,” Lila chimed in. “She was thinking about Kurt and me. Together.”
Derek arched a brow.
“I know,” Lila said. “She’s a freak like that. My little deviant.”
“Shut up,” Jenny said. “And I call shotgun.”
“Nooo.” Lila quickened her pace. “You know I get sick in the back.”
* * * *
The interior of the car was quiet. It was almost eerie, considering the noise Jenny and Lila had been making in the bar. Before they’d wound down like over-tired kids up too late on a holiday, that is.
It had been entertaining to watch. One minute they were laughing and chatting, then Jenny had leaned an elbow on the bar, rested her chin in her hand, and her eyes had turned soft and dreamy.
Perhaps he’d imagined the soft and dreamy bit, because he longed to see Jenny like that rather than on guard and wary, but they’d definitely been unfocused. He’d watched her eyelids flutter down as Lila laughed at something the guy trying to pick her up said. Then Lila had leaned around to see Jenny’s shut eyes, propped her own elbows on the bar, and promptly napped herself.
Right now, Lila was sitting in the back of Derek’s SUV and—yep, Derek checked in the rearview—she was asleep.
Jenny wasn’t.
Jenny was busy regretting calling shotgun, because it meant she was next to him. When he’d changed gear and his knuckles had brushed the side of her thigh, she’d gasped and twitched away as if he’d leaned over and stuck his hand between her legs.
Since then, she’d kept herself sitting very upright with knees pressed together, instead of the comfortable sprawl that had been responsible for the inadvertent contact.
And the interior of the car, while quiet, was charged with an electric awareness that prickled and snapped over Derek’s skin.
He took in a deep breath, flexed his fingers on the wheel, and smiled.
Suddenly, Jenny reached forward and flipped on the stereo. Britney Spears at full volume blasted through the speakers.
Jenny and Derek both lunged to turn the stereo off, fingers tangling.
“I’ve got it,” Jenny said, choking on her laughter. “I’ve got it!” She slapped his hand away.
Music safely off, she thudded back against her seat then twisted to check on Lila, who was still asleep. Biting her lip, she glanced over at him. “Britney? I’m shocked, Tate. I would have picked you as a Selena Gomez fan.”
He pointed at the stereo. “That was Burke. Guy who works for me. He borrowed the car yesterday and changed the station.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yes, uh-huh. I don’t listen to Britney or Selena. How dare you? I’m a Taylor Swift boy, all the way.”
Jenny huffed with laughter again. “Do you mind…?” She gestured at the stereo.
“Knock yourself out. Anything rock.”
“I know.” She fiddled with the buttons until she found a station playing classic rock, and left the volume low.
Derek idled at a stop light, waiting for it to turn green. The streets were empty, even though it was a Friday.
At this time of night, most folk in Emerson were already where they wanted to be—either at Kurt’s or one of the other two bars in town, or home for the night. In an hour it would get busier as those who were out headed homeward. Right now, they could have been the only two people on the planet.
Three people, he amended when Lila sat up abruptly. So abruptly, both he and Jenny flinched.
Lila checked the left window, the right, then braced her arms on the seat backs. “Make a left here,” she said, voice gruff.
“No, go right,” Jenny said. “We’re already over halfway to my house. It’ll be more efficient if you drop me off first.”
The light turned green. Derek turned left.
“Derek,” Jenny said. “It’s quicker to drop me off first. Turn around.”
“No.”
“You can do it here. Back up into that driveway, and turn around. Hell, the road’s clear. Pull a U-ey. Derek.”
He cut her a look. “Who’s driving?”
“You are, but—”
“No buts. I’m driving. You’re being driven. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“That’s not really my thing.”
Not being in control? No kidding. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Jenny’s glare heated the side of his face, then she leaned forward and changed stations, punching up the volume.
Britney once again filled the car. Within seconds, Lila was singing along.
Jenny joined in.
What the hell. Derek joined in, too.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” Jenny said ten minutes later, waving to Lila as Derek pulled away from the curb. “Let’s make a pact right here, and never tell anyone ever that you, me and Lila had a three-way sing-a-long to Britney’s greatest hits.”
Eyes on the road, Derek took one hand off the wheel and held it out, pinky extended.
Jenny solemnly hooked it with hers, gave a gentle shake, and she sat back with a sigh.
“What was the big celebration at Kurt’s all about?” Derek asked. “I don’t often see you out on a Friday. Where’s Kate, by the way?”
“My darling daughter is having a sleepover with her very best friend in the whole wide world, Gargoyle.”
Gargoyle, Alex Zacharov’s morbidly nervous mutt, a big stupid dog with a fetish for teddy bears, and a drool problem. In other words, Kate was with Elle.
Which meant Jenny was going home to an empty house tonight.
Hmm.
“You ever think about getting her a puppy?” Derek asked.
“Yes. Then I remember that I am already run ragged without having to add dog poop and walkies to my to-do list.” Jenny rolled her head against the back of the seat to look at him. “She wants one, though. Know how I can tell? She only asked once. She knows I can’t afford it. What kind of kid doesn’t beg and pout for a puppy? What kind of kid even cares about whether or not her mom can afford it?”
“The good kind.”
“Damn straight. She’s the best.”
Kate was a five-year-old sweetheart. Bright, funny, totally her own person, with an attitude that said the world could get with the program or get out of her way. Reminded him of Jenny as a kid. “Must have gotten mostly Finley genes.”
“Yeah.”
Streetlights strafed Jenny’s face, revealing her tense expression, and then they were out of town and she was in shadow again. Derek changed the subject. “Celebration. Come on. What coaxed you out of your hermit existence?”
She straightened. “I do not have a hermit existence. Is that what you think? I’m a hermit?”
“I never see you around anymore.”
“Because I see you first.” She winced a little, as if she’d revealed some big secret. As if he didn’t already know she backed away from him every chance she got.
“You and Lila kept clinking glasses.” He tapped her knee. “Tell me why, so I can congratulate you.”
“Mostly that was to piss Kurt off.”
“And?” he pushed.
Seeming almost shy, Jenny lifted and lowered a shoulder. “No big deal. I got my certificate. Landscape and horticultural design.”
“Jen, that’s great.”
“It’s a start.”
“It’s an achievement.”
Her lips twisted. “The way you and Lila say it, an achievement—” she raised clenched fists in the air and opened them, pow, “—you’d think I qualified for a seat on the first colony ship to Mars or something.”
“Hey.” She didn’t look at him. “Hey.” Derek put a hand on her thigh, gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s an achievement. Don’t play it down. You did great. I know it wasn’t easy.”
Their gazes locked for an instant before he had to look back at the road. He didn’t want to ruin this special moment by mowing down any wandering wildlife. In that brief instant, he saw that she was truly pleased.
Being Jenny, she tried to brush it off. “You know, huh? How do you know?”
“Been keeping tabs on you.”
That surprised her. “Oh,” she said in a small voice, then cleared her throat, probably to bounce back with something fiery. Before she could speak, her stomach rumbled.
It wasn’t ladylike, either.
She pressed her abdomen and said in a horrified whisper, “Be quiet!”
“Are you talking to me or your stomach?” Derek asked.
“What stomach? I heard nothing.” It rumbled again. “Fine. I’m hungry. Get over it.”
“Again…me, or your stomach?”
A bubble of laughter escaped. “Stomach, of course. You never pay attention to what I say.”
“Now that isn’t even a little bit true, Finley. I don’t do what you say. I pay plenty of attention to what you say. And even more attention to what you don’t.” Derek took his cell phone from the console and passed it to her.
Jenny looked from it to him and back again.
“Call for pizza,” he told her.
She raised her brows.
“Order whatever you want. Extra jalapenos.”
Jenny swiped through his phone. “This is a nice photo of your mom. How is your mom?”
“She’s good. Stop looking at my photos, and call for pizza.”
Jenny swiped through a couple more screens then turned the phone to face him, tutting. “Derek Tate. I am appalled. Naked selfies?”
He did a double take but she’d moved the phone and he couldn’t see the screen.
“Interesting.” Jenny settled back into her seat. “This happens to be a photo of either random car parts or one of Alex’s more avant-garde metal sculptures. It is not, in fact, a naked selfie. However, your reaction suggests that there is a naked selfie somewhere in here for me to find. Keep your eyes on the road. I’m going to have a poke around.”
“You want to see me naked, Jenny?” Derek said. “I’m happy to give you the live show any time.”
Jenny fumbled the phone and dropped it in the footwell. “Shit. I think I called someone, and not Domino’s, either. I mashed the screen.”
“Get it, and hang up.”
She lunged forward and said, “Ulk,” as the seatbelt caught her. She started yanking at it hard enough it locked. “I’m stuck. Stupid seatbelt.” She yanked it again.
“Easy.” Derek reached over. “Stop yanking, you’re making it worse.” He smoothly loosened it. “There you go. Takes a gentle touch, is all.”
“I’m gentle. Seatbelt is too sensitive.” Jenny’s voice was muffled as she bent to scoop up the phone. She straightened, cheeks flushed and long strawberry blonde hair all over the place. “You should fix that.”
“Are you going to hang up or not?” Derek said.
A small, irritated buzzing came through the phone’s speakers. Great. Probably a customer, wondering why their mechanic was calling way past ten on a Friday night.
“Oops. Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Jenny lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she said, sounding bright and peppy and nothing at all like her. “Hello? Steve? You’re not Steve? Can you get him for me?” She waited, listening. “All I know is, I dialed Hot Buns in my contact list, and Hot Buns is Steve, and I got you, so… Who? Derek Tate? Who’s Derek Tate? That’s the name showing up on caller ID? Uh-oh. Oh, this is embarrassing. Is Derek about six foot—”
Derek held up a finger.
“Make that six foot one,” Jenny said, “with dimples and… Yes, that’s right. Pretty blue eyes.” She laughed. “He does have ridiculous eyelashes. You’re so right!”
Derek shook his head, flipping the turn signal and taking the unlit road down to Jenny’s tiny house by the woods.
Jenny chattered on. “You know what I did? I was at Kurt’s and I put my phone on the bar, and this Derek Tate was trying to pick me up and I was all, ‘Hell no, mister, you may be pretty but I like my men taller, like six foot two at least’. He had his phone on the bar next to mine and I think I must have—hold on, I’m checking—ugh. This is not my phone. I took his by mistake. I am sorry. I hope I didn’t disturb you, or interrupt anything important.”
Parked, Derek switched off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned to face Jenny. Wrap it up, he mouthed at her.
She winked and continued her conversation. “Okay. That’s good. Hey, it was nice talking to you. Once again, I really am sorry. Guess I’d better go find this Derek and switch phones with him. All right, then. You take care. Night!” She hung up and tried to give him the phone. “Phil says hi.”
Derek winced.
“Phil is not a buddy?”
“Phil is my accountant.”
“It was an accident.”
“Yep.” He took the phone off her, swiped at it, then passed it back. “Order the pizza. Extra jalapenos.”
“I’m home now. I can order my ow— Oh. Hi. Yes, extra jalapenos, please.”
Derek bit back a smile.
“Right,” Jenny said. “I was getting to that. Large pizza to put those jalapenos on.”
He waited for her to finish the order and get out the car. “You seem flustered tonight, Finley. Good thing you didn’t drive.”
“Yeah.” She tossed him his phone. “Although, I’m thinking I should have insisted on the cab.”
Derek followed her onto the porch. “Glad you didn’t.”
“I must be drunk,” she said with rare honesty, “because I’m kind of glad, too.”