Lake Magic (21 page)

Jenny looked at Jared, momentarily stunned by his transformation. She knew she should make a comeback, tell him he was free to leave anytime, but she was struck speechless. True amusement had softened his features, replaced the ever-present hard, cynical edge. His eyes, usually so guarded, were as clear and blue as her lake on a hot summer day. She’d always found him attractive, but looking at him now, seeing him like this, Jenny found Jared nearly impossible to resist.

“Well, kid,” Jared said. “I’ll see you around.”

Cody moved away from the counter. “You’re staying here, too?”

“Just for a few days,” Jared answered.

“Jared’s my . . .” Jenny started to explain then stumbled to a halt.
Her what?
She wasn’t about to say—

“Partner,” he easily filled in. “I’m your aunt’s partner.”

“Oh,” was all Cody said. And while Jenny might feel like kicking Jared, she felt like hugging Cody. Here at least was one family member who didn’t drill her with a hundred and one questions.

With every word he spoke, Jared inched a little closer to the hallway. His movements were slow and measured, and if she hadn’t been paying close enough attention, she would have missed them.

“If you can’t go on the water, I saw a basketball hoop on the far side of the hangar. Probably a ball around here someplace.”

Cody slumped against the counter. “I play baseball.”

“What position?”

There it was again, that movement.

“Pitcher and third base.”

“If you brought your glove and ball, maybe your aunt could throw you a few.”

Cody gave him a look like he’d just escaped for an insane asylum. Jenny was beginning to warm to her nephew. “Have you seen her throw?”

Maybe warm was too strong a word.

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

Jared laughed again. “I feel for you, kid.”

Jenny didn’t feel for either one of them. Nothing like having two males around to rake her over the coals. She faced Jared. “You never did say why you came in.”

He’d made it all the way to the arch leading to the hallway. “Forget it. It’s not important now.” He glanced pointedly at Cody.

“Humor me.” She didn’t know why she pushed.

“I was just about to start changing the Beav—
plane’s
”—he shot her another one of those smiles that turned her insides upside down—“oil. Thought you could lend an extra pair of hands if you had nothing better to do.” His tone suggested she never had anything better to do. “But since your nephew’s here, I’ll manage on my own.”

“I told you—”

“Zeke handles the plane. I got it. But he isn’t here, is he?” His smile disappeared. “Look, it’s not like I want to work on the damn plane, but I sure as shit don’t want it to malfunction on my watch either.”

She wanted to tell him to go to hell. Instead she told him, “Stop swearing in front of Cody. And you don’t have a watch.”

“As long as I’m here, I do.”

She bristled. “We’ve never had any maintenance malfunctions. Blue Sky Air—”

“Has been damn lucky. From what I can tell, you’ve been flying on a wing and a prayer. Your maintenance records are a joke.”

That was a lie. The maintenance records were in perfect order, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming the truth. The last thing she wanted was to get into a yelling match in front of Cody. Somehow she just knew that bit of information would find its way to her sister . . . then her brother . . . then her mother, and so on. But as hard as she tried, everything seemed to come crashing down at once. This sham of a partnership. Her sister. Her fall. An unhappy nephew who she had no idea how to entertain. A man who was not only stirring her ire, but who was also stirring a hell of a lot more.

Before she could think it through, before she could change her mind, she heard herself say, “Cody can help you.”

Jared went cold. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Sure it is.” Jenny looped her arm around Cody’s narrow shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. “He’d love to help,” she said, putting on an overly bright smile. “Wouldn’t you, Cody?”

The kid looked like he’d rather parade through his school cafeteria in his tighty whities. But Jared kept his mouth shut. Just like he should have earlier. Engaging in stupid chitchat with the boy had been just that—stupid. Jared didn’t do kids. Period. Hell, he barely associated with adults. If there was one thing his less-than-stellar childhood had taught him, it was to keep his distance, to disassociate from everyone and everything. But remembering what he should do had become damn near impossible around Jenny. Just like it had been when he was with Steven. No, Jared corrected himself, not like Steven. When he was with Steven, he sure as hell hadn’t been thinking about what he thought about every time he looked at Jenny.

Guilt nailed him. Again. Only a lowlife would lust after his best friend’s girl.

More than lusted, Jared acknowledged. His thoughts pretty much landed on the down and dirty. It didn’t matter that Steven was gone. Jenny was still his. It was there in her eyes, in the soft timbre of her voice every time she said his name—and even when she didn’t. And it was there on the diamond ring she still wore. “Thanks,” he said at the hallway, “but no thanks. I’ve got it handled.”

“But you just said—”

“I know what I said.”

Cody stopped trying to break free of his aunt’s embrace. “Forget it, Aunt Jenny. He doesn’t want me.”

A long-buried memory blindsided Jared. Damn it, he’d forgotten the kid was standing there. He tried not to look at Cody, but Jared knew he didn’t even have to look to know what he’d see. He’d heard it.

Doesn’t want me
.

Cody stood at the edge of the counter, his shoulders stiff and erect, his chin pushed out into the air, his eyes flat and expressionless. From all outward appearances, he looked like he couldn’t give a rip about the discussion going on around him. But all that indifference was just a farce. No one knew that better than Jared. He’d perfected that exact pose by the time he was nine.

Shit
.

“Hey, kid, why don’t you run out to the fridge in the hangar and grab us a couple of root beers?”

Cody looked like he was going to refuse, then shuffled his feet and headed out.

The screen door had no sooner banged shut than Jenny turned on him. “Don’t order him around.”

He faced Jenny, and every dirty thought he’d had while they’d been slipping around on the floor pummeled him once more. He wanted to strip off her clothes, lay her out on the hardwood, and do every sinfully delicious thing to her that had been haunting his dreams. “When did sending a kid out to get pop constitute ordering him around?”

Her eyes narrowed, and her full lips thinned into a hard line. It was an expression he was fast becoming all too familiar with.

Good. Stay pissed.
Maybe it would keep his thoughts where they belonged.

She crossed her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts higher, exposing a fair amount of cleavage.

No, his thoughts weren’t going anywhere. Nowhere they should.

“It’s not even ten. A little early for a can of pop, don’t you think?”

He dragged his gaze off her chest. “Are you kidding me?”

She stared at him like he was an idiot. And frankly, he was beginning to think she was right. Especially when he was around her. “No one drinks pop at this time in the morning. Don’t you remember anything your parents taught you?”

“Right. My parents.”

She looked at him for several long moments, and slowly the angry expression eased from her face to be replaced by one of puzzled confusion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Listen,” Jared cut in. He knew that look, that I’m-about-to-ask-you-all-kinds-of-questions look. Questions he had no intention of answering. Long ago, he’d learned how to bury his past. But somehow Jenny seemed to see past all the walls he’d fortified over the years.

He had to get out of here. Out of this kitchen, out of this town. “I’m sorry about the kid,” he said, turning the conversation. “About offering him a soda. I just wanted him out of earshot.”

“Why?”

Doesn’t want me
.

“Because no kid should have to listen to two people arguing about him.”

Jenny opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly baffled. “We weren’t arguing about Cody.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

She narrowed her eyes again. “Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

He almost laughed. If she thought that was vulgar, it was a damn good thing she couldn’t read his thoughts. “Can’t help it. I’m a guy.”

“Like I haven’t noticed.” The moment the words were out, she took a step back.

He knew he should let it go. Leave it alone. Leave
her
alone. But just like every other time he was around her, doing what he should never worked out. He closed the distance between them. Awareness widened her eyes. “And here I thought you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed. But not like that. I mean . . . you’re not . . . we’re not . . .” She blew out a long breath and gave him an exasperated look. “You understand, right?”

He was playing with fire, but he couldn’t make himself stop. “You better explain it to me.”

She rubbed her palms on the front of her shorts. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

If she only knew what was harder than it should be.

His gaze followed the up and down motion of her hands. She was nervous, and he knew he was the reason why. He should back off, back away from her. He’d been around a lot of beautiful women in his day, but Jenny was different. Beautiful, definitely. But there was something else . . . something more. All the years Jared had been in the military, he’d never received a letter, a care package. But Steven had. Lots of them. And the vast majority had come from Jenny. When Steven realized Jared never received anything, Steven—being Steven—insisted on including Jared during mail day. Whatever treats he’d been sent (now Jared understood why they’d been store-bought) he’d shared; he’d also read parts of his letters out loud. Before then, Jared had been able to endure mail days. When you didn’t expect anything, you were never let down. But through Jenny’s letters, Jared had glimpsed a way of life he’d long ago given up on. Her letters had been filled with stories about life on Hidden Lake. Listening to the world she’d weaved, it had been almost impossible not to fall under her spell. With distance, he’d managed to resist. But now, being here, being in the world she had unknowingly woven around him years before, Jared felt that allure pull at him. Felt Jenny pull at him.

He tore his gaze off her legs and changed the conversation back to where it should never have strayed from. Being around Jenny was becoming dangerous. “All I’m saying is, I know what it feels like to be passed around like you aren’t wanted. To have grown-ups talk about you like you weren’t even there,” he said with a candor that was unexpected, even to him.

“Cody’s wanted,” she said softly. “I just thought he’d have more fun with you. You were a kid once. A teenage boy.”

“I was never a kid.” His words were light, and his smile was bright. The combination had never failed to reroute a woman’s thoughts to where he wanted them to go. But Jenny wasn’t biting.

She searched his face. “What do you mean—?”

The screen door opened and banged shut.

Startled by the sound, her eyes widened and she moved away from him as if only just realizing how close they’d been standing to each other.

“Here,” Cody said as he entered the kitchen. He handed Jared a root beer.

Jared took the can automatically, though what he really wanted was a straight shot. Maybe two. In less than a handful of minutes, he’d revealed more to Jenny than he’d ever told anyone else.

Before his aunt could tell him no, Cody snapped his can open, and a fizzy hiss filled the suddenly silent room. With his can of pop halfway to his mouth, Cody looked to each of them. “So, did you figure out who gets stuck with the booby prize?”

Jenny avoided Jared as she wrapped her arm around Cody’s shoulders, gave the top of his head a playful tousle. “You are a prize, kiddo. Don’t forget that,” she said sincerely. “So here’s the deal. I need to do some work in the office for a couple of hours, but then I’m all yours. You can either hang out in here with me or work on the plane with Jared. It’s up to you.”