Taming Johnny (11 page)

“Not with you,” he said, his tone flat.

“Who then?”

He took a deep breath, looking for the most part like he just wanted to be left alone.
That
certainly was nothing new. But right now, at this very moment, it felt like a knife slicing through her aorta.

“Maybe I’m upset with myself.”

What’s that supposed to mean?
“I don’t understand.” She was afraid if she said much more, her voice might break. And she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to show him how vulnerable she felt. So instead, she tried his tactic. Smartassery. “Feel bad you didn’t send flowers?”

A faint smile softened his lips. She thought it looked weary, hesitant. He leaned back in his chair. “We still on for tomorrow?”

She was almost too afraid to be relieved. Right now, everything seemed okay, but how long would it be until he pulled the rug out from under her? How long could she take these ups and downs?

She smiled back, feeling a little weary herself. “Of course.”

* * * *

Emma tossed her keys on the coffee table, put her purse down, and ventured into the kitchen for a Diet Coke. It was only a little over twelve hours ago that Johnny had been standing right there in her kitchen, considering her like something good to eat. She cracked open the soda, took a fizzy sip, and ran her fingers over the counter, lost in thought.

When she saw Nigel’s letter sitting by the coffee pot, she froze. Just a small, ordinary piece of paper, mingled in with a bunch of bills. But how much meaning it carried. Even from where she was standing, she could read it clearly. And of course, Johnny would have been able to read it too.
Yup.
The words were clear as a bell, especially the last ones.
I love you- Nigel.

Suddenly listless, she set the Diet Coke on the counter.
Crap.

Chapter 11

“So how long have you and Johnny been dating?”

Jake Street was blond, good looking, and had a fast, easy Texas smile. Emma had liked him instantly. He stood in front of her now, broad shouldered, and so tall that she had to shield her eyes to look up at him.

“I don’t know that we’re dating, exactly.”

Jake took a sip of beer and rocked back on his heels. “Ah.”

“No! It’s not like that.”
Bologna. Isn’t it?

“It’s okay. Believe me, I don’t judge. Especially where my cousin is concerned.”

Emma looked across the pool which was reflecting the late afternoon sun in hundreds of brilliant sparkles. The patio was full of talking, laughing people. It was the biggest family barbeque that she’d ever been to, and everyone she’d met so far had been friendly and welcoming. Johnny stood about twenty feet away. Even out of all those people, she hadn’t had trouble finding him immediately. The curve of his muscled shoulders, the way his head was cocked to the side, seemed so familiar.

A little embarrassed, she turned back to Jake and smiled into the rim of her wine glass. “I guess I’m not sure what to call it,” she said. “It’s not really a conventional type of relationship. Maybe it never will be.”

“I see.” Jake had one hand in his shorts pocket, the other clutching the long neck of his beer, practically dwarfing it. Despite his size, he gave off a sweet and gentle vibe. “Well, I can tell you one thing,” he said. “I’ve never seen him like this with anyone before. Johnny…doesn’t get close easily.”

Emma felt her cheeks warm, pleased, but scolding herself for it. “I can see that about him. But as far as he and I go, I don’t really know that you could call us close.”

“Oh?”

“He doesn’t want to open up to me. About anything.”

“That’s Johnny.”

Emma had no idea why she felt the need to go on. To divulge how she was feeling to a complete stranger. Maybe it was because Jake was so nice. And maybe it was because he knew Johnny,
really
knew him, and she didn’t.

“I like him,” she said. “A lot. But he’s so mercurial. Sometimes he starts to show a sweet side, and then others, he just shuts down completely. I never know if it’s something I’ve done.”

Jake sighed. He set his beer down and touched Emma’s elbow. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

Together, they zigzagged through the little pods of people and into the cool, air-conditioned living room of the house. Jake closed the sliding glass door behind them before a fat white cat could make a dash for it. He sat on his haunches and looked up indignantly.

“Nope, Napoleon.” Jake grinned over his shoulder. “He likes hamburgers. This way.”

Emma bent to give the cat a quick scratch before following Jake into a study at the end of the hallway.

“There,” he said, pointing to a few pictures hanging in the far corner. “Take a look.”

In a silver frame on the wall was a picture of Johnny as a boy. He couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. Beside him was a laughing young woman, not much bigger than he was. She had both arms wrapped around him, looking like she was leaning in for a kiss. He was laughing too, and leaning away. She wore a sheer, pink scarf wrapped around her bare head. He looked just like her.

“She died when he was fourteen,” Jake said, his voice heavy. “Leukemia.”

The word sounded ugly and twisted, and Emma’s heart broke in half for the little boy in the picture.

“Johnny’s dad left when he was three, so it was just him and his mom. They were really close. She went in and out of remission and got sick for the last time when he was a freshman in high school. He changed after that.”

Emma nodded slowly, unable to look at Jake.

“He went through the rest of school withdrawn and angry. Enlisted in the Army right after graduation, even though we had all planned on going to the same college. He could have gotten a full-ride football scholarship, but we couldn’t talk him out of it. Maybe it was the best thing for him. Maybe it wasn’t.”

Emma did turn then, sensing there was much more to the story. “Why is that?”

“Johnny was a great soldier. A natural. He was able to connect to people in the service, where he hadn’t been able to in school. He met a lot of like-minded guys who wanted to be career, like he did.” Jake seemed far away as he looked over Emma’s shoulder to the pictures on the wall. “It was a blessing for a while. But it didn’t last.”

Emma rubbed her arms where goose bumps had sprouted, but she wasn’t cold. “What happened?”

Reaching around, he retrieved a small photo album from a bookcase in the corner. He opened it and flipped through to a few pictures in the middle and handed it over. “See the guy on the right?”

It was a photo of Johnny and three other men in fatigues. They all wore their haircuts in the signature “high and tight” style of the military. They looked official, formidable. But they also looked relaxed and happy. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Johnny smile like that before. They were all grinning, Johnny holding a football in one arm, his other around the man on the right.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Toby. They were really close, best friends. Toby was older and kind of took Johnny under his wing. He was a family man. Married with a little boy at the time, and I think he probably saw that Johnny needed someone. That his tough guy routine was a bunch of bullshit.”

Emma could tell there had been a bond there. It came across in the picture just as clear and sharp as the desert sun in the background.

“Johnny looked up to him,” Jake said. “Actually, it was more than that. I think he saw a glimpse of a life he wanted someday. I think he wanted to
be
like Toby.” Jake leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, the Army was good for a while. Started healing those wounds that we couldn’t, no matter how hard we tried. And we’d tried really hard.”

Emma looked at the photo one more time, committing it to memory. She didn’t want to forget what that smile looked like. Closing the album, she slid it gently back on the shelf. “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Jake nodded.

Emma waited, wanting to know and not wanting to know at the same time. She felt something soft rub against her ankles and looked down to see Napoleon weave himself between her legs. Even the friendly little cat couldn’t lift the heaviness from her heart.

“It was a routine mission,” Jake said. “The helicopter they were in was shot down. Johnny was the only survivor. He pulled Toby’s body free and that’s how they found him. He wouldn’t let him go.”

“My God.”

“That was the end of the Army for Johnny. He was injured. Almost lost his right eye. He came home to bury Toby and recover. His body eventually did, but his mind didn’t. He retired from the Army, became a cop, and withdrew further and further into himself. It’ll always be a part of who he is. Every year on the anniversary of the crash, he sends Toby’s kids a gift.” Jake smiled wearily. “He doesn’t think I know, but I do.”

Emma felt the sting of tears. All those times she’d called Johnny a name under her breath. All those times she saw her co-workers glare at him as he walked away. They didn’t know what kind of man he really was. A son, a cousin, a friend.

Jake gave her shoulder a brotherly pat. “So before you go giving up on him, I just wanted to you to know. There’s a reason he is the way he is. There was a time when he was better. I think he could be again. But he needs someone who understands. He needs someone who will give him time.”

Emma smiled and swallowed the uncomfortable lump in her throat. So Johnny Street had a heart. That wasn’t a surprise. Deep down, she’d known all along. The question was, how was she going to reach it?

* * * *

Emma looked over at Johnny. It was dark outside, the highway seeming to stretch endlessly before them. He hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten in the truck.

She cleared her throat and it sounded loud and out of place in the uneasy silence. “So, your cousins seem nice.”

He kept his eyes on the road. She could tell even through the dim light in the cab that his jaw muscles were working. Was Nigel’s letter bothering him? Or was it something else? She knew enough about Johnny by now to realize that taking a girl to something like the barbeque this afternoon was a rarity. Maybe he just wanted to drop her off and go home. Be done with the whole day and get back to his routine.

Leaning against the window, Emma kept her eyes on him, looking for some kind of response. This was the Johnny she’d known for the past year. The Johnny who didn’t let anyone in. And knowing what she did now, maybe it was foolish to think he ever would.

“Johnny?”

“Mmm.”

“You want to tell me what’s the matter?”

He kept staring at the road ahead, the lights from passing cars playing on his face. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Believe what you want, Beaumont.”

“I will.” She rubbed her hands together, trying to drum up the courage for the next sentence. Having a heart-to-heart with this guy was like pulling teeth. “I know you saw the letter,” she said. “The one on my counter.”

Nothing. Just more jaw flexing and silence.

“That was from my ex-boyfriend. He’s in Africa. In the Peace Corps.”

Silence.

“I was supposed to go with him after we graduated from college. That was the plan, at least. But I backed out.”

“Why?”

The tension in the truck was thick, almost palpable.

“Because…I didn’t love him,” she said, looking out the window to the small, dark shapes of farm houses in the distance. They huddled alone on the edges of the pastures they watched over, lonely but loyal. “I’ve always wanted to do something good. Something to make a difference in people’s lives. The Peace Corps seemed like a great place to start. But it was Nigel’s idea that we go together. Not mine. I was afraid if I went with him, I’d be letting him call the shots like he always had.”

He looked over. “So here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“Now what?”

The words seemed to encompass everything. She took an unsteady breath. “Now…I find another way to help people.”

“Admirable.”

“We’ll see. I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Nigel, is it?”

“Yes.”

“He seems to still have feelings for you.”

“Yes, he does.”

His grip on the steering wheel seemed forced, the rope-like muscles in his forearms bulging. “And how do you feel about that?”

“He’s in a foreign country and might miss me because of that. We were never good together, even though our families assumed we’d take the next step. He was always too controlling. He’s a good person, but I never loved him.” She looked down at her hands. Her palms were sweating. “Not like I should have, anyway.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Yes. Well, kind of. It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated about it?” he said, his voice gruff. “Either you love him or you don’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“So you’re going to let the poor guy dangle while he’s digging wells in Africa?”

Emma suppressed a laugh. “No. I’ve told him how I feel. I just don’t think I need to pound it home.”

“Ah. Well, are you sure about that? He seems awfully into you.”

“He gets it. He’s just stubborn. Besides, he’s on a different continent, I’m here. It’ll work itself out in time.” It sounded lame, even to her. But Emma hoped she was right. Stubborn didn’t even begin to describe Nigel’s tenacity when it came to something he wanted.

As they turned the corner onto her street, she looked at Johnny. Even his profile was handsome. Straight nose, prominent chin, wide mouth. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered all the things he’d done with that mouth.

“Thank you for inviting me today. I had fun.”

He slowed and shifted into second gear, brushing her knee. “You’re welcome, Beaumont. Thanks for coming.”

“When are you going to stop calling me Beaumont?”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“My last name.” She poked him in the arm. “I have a first one too. I want to hear you say it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

That did it. There was more than a little insinuation in those two little words. Her temperature kicked up a notch. Suddenly all she wanted was to be lying in bed naked with this man.