Plain Jayne (14 page)

“Nick!”

He stepped half out of his bathroom with a towel flung over his bare shoulder as he continued to lather up with his shaving brush.

“Hmmm?”

“Oh.” She slammed to a stop, the flowers clutched between her hands, and her mouth hanging open. It took her some time before she found her voice, and even then it wasn’t nearly as forceful as he’d expected. It started out sounding as though her mouth was full of dust, and going by the number of times she cleared her throat, something had to be off with her.

She looked at the flowers, then the floor, then the wall beside her before she finally managed to look up at him.

“You have to stop spending money on me.” As she spoke, her nose twitched ever so slightly as though she was trying her damnedest not to lean closer to the flowers and inhale as deeply as she could.

“Why?” He moved back into the bathroom and set to work with the razor, moving the blade down his cheek in even strokes. “It’s my money, I can spend it any way I want.”

“But—”

“If it makes you feel better—or less better, if that’s what you’re going for here—I got some for Lisa, too, only her bunch was bigger.” He stretched his mouth down and gently shaved the stubble from his upper lip. “How would it look if I got her flowers for our date and not you?”

“It’s not a date when you take your girlfriend
and
me.”

“Fine. It’s a celebration for getting by the first hurdle with Hague. I was at Maya’s flower shop, I saw those, and figured since they were purple …”

“Nick.” A big fat tear hovered at the edge of her eye, but Jayne being Jayne, she held it back. “We’re supposed to be showing people we’re just friends, remember?”

“I can’t buy my friend flowers?”

“A couple daisies, sure. A potted mum, absolutely. But this?” She exhaled a tired sigh. “This doesn’t look right.”

“I don’t give a shit how it looks.” He rinsed the razor and patted the towel over his face. “This is who I am, this is who
we
are, and I don’t want to change any of it.”

“But flowers are brutally expensive.”

“Do you like them?”

“Well, duh!” she grunted. “They’re gorgeous.”

He couldn’t resist any longer; that tear was driving him crazy. He wiped it away with his thumb, then cupped her cheek in his hand. “Then it’s money well spent.”

She sniffed softly and leaned into his hand for a fraction of a second. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled to himself as she shuffled back down the hall. Abby had never cried when he gave her flowers, or ever worried about the cost. Come to think of it, neither did Lisa. “I think there’s a vase above the fridge.”

Half an hour later, he shot her a wink and waggled his brow as he held the truck door
open and helped Jayne climb in. “You look great.”

“Yeah, right.” Jayne rolled her eyes as she pressed her hands down her stomach. The short-sleeved mossy green dress looked like it was made of T-shirt fabric; nothing fancy, just a simple dress that gently hugged her curves. “You’re just used to seeing me in sweats and filthy shorts, so anything else is an improvement.”

Nick pulled out of the driveway and turned south toward Lisa’s. As they waited at the light his phone rang, cutting in through the music on the radio. “Hey, Lisa, sorry, we’re running a little late.”

He shot Jayne a look that she ignored.

“That’s okay,” Lisa said, her soft voice coming through the speakers. “I’m going to have to take a rain check anyway.”

“How come?” Nick frowned out the front windshield. He could feel Jayne looking at him, but kept his eyes forward. “You okay?”

“Fine, but the Fairmont’s sprinkler system flooded all the conference rooms so I have to find somewhere else for the Outreach group to go tomorrow.”

“How long’s that going to take?”

Lisa’s sigh filled the cab of the truck as Nick turned onto the highway. “I don’t know. It’s a big group, so it could be awhile, but you guys go on. If I finish up early enough, I’ll meet you back at your place later.”

“You sure? This was your idea, we could do it another night.”

“Don’t be silly. Go on. Say hi to Jayne for me.”

Nick smirked and mouthed a hello to Jayne who returned the silent greeting.

“Jayne says hi back.”

“Sorry about this,” Lisa said. “Love you.”

“ ’K. See you later.” The radio kicked back on but for once Jayne didn’t sing along, even though he’d set it to the eighties channel she liked. No singing, but her mouth was wide open.

“Nick!”

“What?”

“She just told you she loved you, and your response to that is … what? Nothing?” Jayne choked over a strangled laugh. “You just let her say it and then leave her hanging like that?”

“I don’t
let
her say it, Jayne, she just does.” He changed lanes and picked up speed. “And
what do you want me to do—lie to her?”

“You don’t love Lisa?” The shock in Jayne’s voice made it sound like he was crazy. “Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s amazing; sweet, pretty, and she’s always good to me, but we’ve only been together a couple months. It’s a little early for me to be throwing the L-word around.”

“That never stopped you before. Ten minutes into any relationship, you were always gushing over how much you loved your new girlfriend.”

“Give me a break,” he laughed, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I’ve learned to contain the gushing over the years.”

“Attaboy. A little restraint is good.”

Restraint had nothing to do with it. If he even thought he loved Lisa, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell her, but so far that feeling hadn’t come. There was something missing, and though he didn’t know what that was just yet, he knew once he figured it out, he could fix it, and then he’d love her.

He edged the truck into the exit lane and followed the road around the side of the theater.

“What about you?” He put it in park and climbed out of the truck, then went to get her door. She was already out by the time he got there. “Who was the last guy you gushed over?”

“I don’t gush.” She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress and turned so she was ahead of him.

That was true; Jayne had never gushed over any guy in high school, and even though she’d mentioned a few men over the years, none of them seemed to last more than a couple months, except that guy Barry. Nick had only met him once, but that was enough. From the second Barry opened his mouth, Nick knew he was all wrong for Jayne, and to this day he never understood why she stayed with him so long.

Nick hustled after her and nudged her arm.

“Come on, spill it. When was the last time you told a guy you loved him?” After a staredown, he let her pay for the tickets, then ushered her toward the popcorn counter. “And please don’t tell me you were in love with Barry.”

“No.” Jayne pulled some napkins from the dispenser and lifted his large iced tea before walking away. “One and only time I ever gushed was June twentieth, 1998.”

“You remember the exact—” Nick’s hand froze around the popcorn bag and it took him a second before his feet would move. June 20, 1998. The day after they graduated. The day he drove Jayne to the bus station.

The day she told him she loved him.

“Hang on.” He had to hustle to catch up with Jayne and her smart-ass smirk. “That doesn’t count.”

“Oh, it counts.”

“No it doesn’t because you didn’t mean it like”—he lowered his voice to a harsh whisper—“like you were in love with me. You meant it like you were my—”

“Your what?” She laughed over a slow sip of his iced tea. “Your sister?”

“
No
. Like you were my best friend.”

“Either way, let’s think back to what your response was.” She tapped her chin, pretending to think hard. “Oh, that’s right. Nothing.”

“You didn’t give me a chance!” He held the door open, then followed her inside the theater where he could only hope the fuzzy lighting would hide his embarrassment. “One second you’re standing there staring at the ground and the next second, the bus is pulling away and you yell it out the window.”

Jayne stood at the top of the aisle, scanned for empty seats, then widened her smirk. “A real best friend would have yelled it back.”

The only seats left were up against the wall in the second row from the front. Jayne made their apologies as they stepped over everyone as quickly and painlessly as they could.

Nick waited until she was settled in her red velvet seat before he nudged her arm and whispered, “You freak out any time I try to hug you, so I always figured with anything else, you’d probably beat the living crap out of me.”

“And I may well have.” When she turned her head, he expected to see that smirk of hers, but it seemed to take awhile to materialize, and even when it did, he knew it was forced. God, he was a schmuck.

“You’ve really never said it since then?”

“Nope. Once was more than enough, thank you very much.”

The lights dimmed almost immediately and a hush of anticipation fell over the room. It wasn’t until that moment that Nick realized how much he’d missed going to the movies with
Jayne. They’d take turns picking, but it seemed for every chick flick she made him sit through, she sat through twice as many car chases and gun fights, so when they rented movies to watch at his house, he always let her pick.

Nick was probably the only guy in their graduating class who’d sat through every John Hughes film at least once. If Judd Nelson or Emilio Estevez was in it, they probably watched it three or four times.

“Want some?” Nick held up his bucket of popcorn, but Jayne shook her head. The red licorice, however, she took.

He slid down in his seat so he wouldn’t have to crane his neck as much and grinned when Jayne did the same. She chewed her Twizzlers and he munched his popcorn, just like old times.

Was it weird that they’d slipped back into each other’s lives so easily? Or that he couldn’t honestly remember a time when he’d been this happy? It was a stupid happy, too, one of those sloppy, can’t-stop-smiling kind of things.

He had absolutely no idea what was happening in the movie, except that the guy onscreen was about to get his throat slit and everyone in the theater knew it. The music swelled, the guy turned … it was a damn good thing Lisa hadn’t come. She would’ve hated this.

“What’s so funny?” Jayne whispered.

Nick had no good answer for the grin on his face, and no matter how hard he tried to stop, it didn’t do any good. Right there, sitting in the forty-year-old theater with a Frankenstein scar sewn across the top right corner of the screen, everything conspired to make him smile; the collective gasp that arose when the bad guy jumped out, the way the teenage boy in front of them held his girlfriend when she squealed and buried her face in his neck, the way Jayne smelled so good, like fresh strawberries.

He could feel her eyes on him a few times, but when he glanced her way, she’d gone back to watching the movie. By the time it ended Nick couldn’t name a single character, couldn’t have guessed why the guy was killing everyone, and he had a slight kink in his neck, but he didn’t care.

They waited until their row cleared, then Nick took her by the hand and wound a path toward the door. They’d almost cleared the crowd when he saw them.

“Shit. Let’s go.”

“Why?” Jayne’s gaze shot up. “Who’s that?”

“Hurry,” he whispered hoarsely, but it was too late. Dressed in matching green-and-white plaid outfits, the Schwanns blocked their escape. “Judy, Ross, good to see you. This is Jayne.”

Judy’s mouth, covered in the darkest red lipstick Nick had ever seen, smiled sweetly; she nodded at Jayne as she spoke to Nick. “I thought you were dating that other girl. The pretty one with the dark hair; she’s so sweet.”

“Yes, yes she is.” He gave Jayne a quick tug and started to move away. “We have to get going, but I’ll tell Lisa you were asking about her.”

Before Judy could say another word, Nick all but dragged Jayne out the door and pushed her toward the truck.

“Who was that?” she laughed.

“Friends of Mom’s. It’s their house we’re building.”

“Wow—that must be interesting. Do they always dress the same?”

“Yeah.” Nick blew out a loud breath and wheeled the truck toward home. “Keep an eye out, they’ve been known to follow me home.”

Jayne’s laughter filled the cab of the truck, and even though he’d been serious, the sound warmed him, made him laugh, too. Back at the house, he opened the front door and waved her in ahead of him. Duke waddled up to Jayne, wagged his tail like a fool while she rubbed his ears, then shuffled back to his pillow, completely dismissive of Nick.

“So I was thinkin’.” He threw his keys in the bowl on the front hall table and kicked his sneakers into the closet. “We should do this more often.”

“Right,” she snorted. “I bet Lisa would love that.”

“She’d come, too. And we’d set you up with someone.”

“How about Mr. October from the firefighter’s calendar?”

“Married.”

“Damn it.” Again she tapped her chin, pretending to think. “Then how about no?”

“Why not?” He followed her into the kitchen and straddled one of the stools. “I know a lot of good guys who’d be happy to—”

“No!”

“I’d be careful who I picked.”

She filled a couple glasses with water and handed him one. “No.”

“Is that the only word you know?”

“No.”

He chuckled and took a slow drink. “It’d do you good. Broaden your horizons, maybe expand your vocabulary.”

“Very funny.” She set her glass on the counter and faced him, arms crossed over her chest.

“You’re the one insisting we need to show people we’re not together,” he went on, the idea gaining steam in his head. “And what better way than for people to see us together but not
together
. It’s a win-win.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head and moved around the island, trying to distance herself from him, but he was beside her in a heartbeat, his arm slung around her shoulders, leading her into the living room.

“Chicken?” he asked, grinning down at her.

“Yes.”

They flopped down on the couch, both turning the idea over. It would be perfect; he knew lots of good guys he could set her up with, and at the same time it would earn him points with Lisa, with whom he’d hardly spent any time with since the Stomp. Hell, he’d hardly had time to kiss her hello or goodbye since Jayne got to town, never mind anything else.