That Thing Called Love (14 page)

Without tearing his gaze from it, he raised his head slightly. “Aw, sweet,” he said roughly and hooked a finger into one lingerie strap and tugged it off her shoulder. Glancing up at her, he reached for the other. “I’ve been wanting to get a look at these babies for some time now.”

Shooting him a crooked smile, she warned, “Prepare to be disappointed.” Yet the appreciation in his eyes burned away even the smallest semblance of her usual self-consciousness when it came to her much privately lamented, not so womanly breasts.

“That’s not going to happen.” He lowered the other strap and slowly peeled the skimpy cups away. His breath hissed through his teeth as he exposed the pale golden globes.

It was the look on his face, more than the cool air in her bedroom, that caused Jenny’s burnt-sugar-colored nipples to twist into little diamond points atop their small aureoles. And when he reached out to circle one with a fingertip, she inhaled a sharp breath of her own and her head kicked back into the mattress.

“
That’s
right,” he breathed. “Jesus, these are pretty.” He lightly pinched a nipple and her back arched to thrust it closer yet. He groaned. “You like that, don’t you?” He squeezed it again, apparently just to replicate her reaction.

She obliged him and he licked his lips. “Damn. You’re so responsive.”

Austin’s door on the other side of the bathroom separating the two bedrooms suddenly opened and Jenny went from burning up to colder than ice, stilling like a rabbit caught in a coyote’s sights. Jake pushed up on one side, looking down at her as she stared at him in return, holding her breath as she waited for the teen to finish whatever had pulled him from his bed.

The toilet flushed and a moment later Austin’s door closed.

Jake started to roll back into the position he’d relinquished, but she slapped a hand to his chest to hold him away. “You’ve got to go,” she said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Look,” she said, using her free hand to pull the baby doll’s top back up over her breasts and slide at least that strap back into place, “I was wrong to have started this with you with him in the house. It was irresponsible of both of us, and you need to leave.”

He rolled onto his side and propped his head in his hand. “Come with me.”

“No, you and me—” she waved a hand between them “—we’re just a bad idea all the way around. I know it’s probably hard to believe, given the way I always seem to behave with you, but I don’t generally do this sort of thing. I don’t just hop into bed with guys I barely know.”

“It’s not hard to believe at all.”

Instead of being relieved she felt irrationally irritated. “Why, because I’m so unsophisticated?”

He looked at her in surprise. “No, because...” He hesitated, then said, “You’re so sweet.”

The breath that escaped her was rife with incredulity and so, she assumed, was her expression.

“It’s not an insult, Jenny,” he said and laughed.

“Oh, yay, and to top things off, I’m a figure of fun.”

“The hell you are. I just meant you’re not a sexual pushover, ya know?”

“Great. Well, listen, you should run along. I’ve got to get up early in the morning.”
And if I hope to sleep I need to scrape my ego up off the floor.

He rolled over on top of her. “We might be done for tonight, but you and I aren’t finished.”

“Oh, I think we are.”
Says the woman who just heated up twenty degrees. God, Jenny. You are in so much trouble.

“You want me just as much as I want you,” he said without a discernible shred of doubt.

“Yes, I imagine I probably do. Yet by your own admission, I’m no sexual pushover, and I’ve decided to take that as a compliment after all. Because we nonpushovers don’t have to act on our desires when doing so just borrows trouble. You’re in town to take away the boy I’ve considered a brother since he was barely out of diapers. And even if I were able to put that aside, we have different goals. So this is a relationship going nowhere. And I’m really, really not looking for one of those.”

For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to argue. Then he pushed off her and rolled to his feet. He looked down at her. “You’re right, of course,” he said with cool courtesy. “I’ll try not to put you in this position again.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out of her room. Jenny heard the outer door open and close a moment later.

While she lay there trying to convince herself that what she felt was relief.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“N
OLAN
’
S
ALL
PISSED
OFF
at me.”

Austin lowered his joystick and looked at Bailey, who sat beside him on the couch where they’d been whiling away Sunday afternoon playing “Grand Theft Auto.” She’d been subdued since she’d arrived on his doorstep and apparently this was the reason why. “How come?”

“Because I get to go out when he doesn’t? Because I get to see you? Got to go to the Mariners game?” Her chin wobbled. “Because I
breathe?
”

Oh, shit. Please, God, don’t let her cry!

He didn’t know if his prayer was heard or she was simply a warrior, but whatever the reason, she firmed up her chin, drew a deep breath and turned her head to look at him. “Aunt Rebecca says it’s because he has cabin fever and he’s jealous that we’re having fun without him. That he can’t help feeling that way and to be patient with him. But he’s always been my favorite cousin and I hate it that he’s mad at me!”

“Aw,
man!
” A clammy concrete-gray load of guilt dumped down on him. “This is my fault, not yours. I haven’t exactly knocked myself out to make him feel better since his mom told me about his chicken pox. I mean, I’ve texted him and all, but except for one online game of ‘Call of Duty,’ I sure haven’t gone out of my way.”
Because I’ve been too busy enjoying having you all to myself.
“I’m a crappy friend.”

“No, you’re not. Heck, I don’t know if it would’ve made a difference if you had knocked yourself out. I’ve played cards and video games with him, but he’s dumping on me anyway.”

“It’s probably like his mom said, though—I know I’d go nuts if I was stuck inside all the time.” Then he brightened. “But you know what? It’s not too late to do something. Let’s go!”

“Where?” she asked even as she rose to her feet and followed him to his room.

She really was the best, because she didn’t do the usual talk, talk, talk thing like so many girls. Instead, she stood silently in the doorway while he rooted through the mess on his little desk and on the floor. He shot her a glance over his shoulder. “Grab my small pack off the back of the door.”

She did and he waved her over to the bed where he’d unloaded his booty. She brought the pack over and held the top open.

“Okay, we’ve got a couple rockin’ DVDs, a few comic books, the newest Pendragon book that I’m pretty sure he hasn’t seen yet and my—wait for it...” He held up the board he’d mounted with different size and shape echinoderms. “Awesome dried starfish collection.”

“You’re kidding me. You collect dead sea critters?”

“Hell, yeah. And Nolan’s been trying to get his hands on them since we were, like, in fifth grade. There was no way. But now—” He stopped and shrugged. “Now is sort of an emergency. Getting them there might be an issue, though—these babies are fragile. Huh. While I think about that, why don’t you see if Epic Fail, Damn You, Auto Correct, and I Can has Cheezeburger? are all their-name-dot-com. If those don’t make him laugh, nothing will. Well, okay, maybe my copy of Dave Barry’s
Science Fair: A Story of Mystery, Danger, International Suspense, and A Very Nervous Frog.
That’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

Bailey shook her head. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

“Maybe, but I’m a manly one.” He flexed biceps at her and grinned when she laughed. “So what do you read?” He gave her a look of faux concern. “You
can
read, right?”

“Funny guy.” She punched him on the arm. “I like Harry Potter.”

“Me, too!”

“And the Meg Cabot Mediator books.”

“I don’t know those, but it sounds like you’re a dork, too.”

“Nah. It’s acceptable when girls like to read.”

“No fooling. I don’t tell just any Sam, Dick or Harry that I kinda like it, too.”

“Tom.”

“Huh?”

“It’s every
Tom,
Dick or Harry.”

“See what I’m talking about?” He pointed at her. “Dork squared.”

Ten minutes later they climbed the stairs to the Sand Dollar’s porch and knocked on the door. There was no response, so Austin knocked louder, then pressed his ear against the panel. Faintly, from what sounded like upstairs, he heard a noise. Almost on top of it, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and took a swift step back.

Jake opened the door, smelling of chemicals and looking more raggedy than Austin had ever seen him, in an old faded T-shirt and stained jeans. But his face lit up. “Hey, there. What’s up?”

“Can you give us a ride to Nolan’s house? I’ve got some stuff to cheer him up, but one of them’s too big to take on my bike.”

“I’m sorry, buddy. I can’t leave right now—I got a wild hair to actually develop some photos and I’m hip deep in solution and timing. Tell you what, though, if you can find something to cheer him up in the meantime, I’ll run you over this evening. That way he’ll get two separate surprises out of it. Will that work for you?”

Austin’s first reaction was to say, “No—and thanks for nothing.” But the nice time they’d had at the game the other night flashed through his mind and, looking beyond his original disappointment, he realized it wasn’t an unreasonable alternative. He nodded. “Okay.” After a small hesitation, he ventured, “In fact, if you want to come over for dinner, I’ll make my famous tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Deal. I’ll bring the cold milk.”

Austin grinned. “Deal.”

“Six o’clock work for you?”

“Long as you’re on time. Jenny says I’m not fit to be around if I eat much later than that.”

On their way back to Austin’s house, Bailey unexpectedly reached for his hand. “That was cool—the way you handled that, I mean.”

“Yeah?” His breath caught in his throat a little at the delicacy of her fingers compared to his, but he did his best to sound offhand. He didn’t want to totally give in to dorkdom. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said about getting to know him and Max. I...liked being with them Friday. They were easier to talk to than I thought they’d be.” He’d particularly enjoyed watching the way they were with Bailey. They hadn’t been stupid obvious about it, but observing them opening doors for her, blocking her from the worst of the crowds and not swearing and shit—well, it had given him a new understanding of the way he should probably be treating girls himself.

The swearing part was gonna take a little effort. Everyone swore—it made them sound more like they were in high school instead of sucky Junior high. Still, he had to admit, Jake and Max were kind of dope. So if they tried to watch their language around girls, he supposed he could. too.

“So what do you think? Should we take the stuff in your backpack to Nolan now?”

“Yeah, probably. Or...how good are you on your bike?”

“I’m okay. I don’t know any tricks or anything.” She studied him. “Why?”

“You know any tricks off your bike?”

“Like what?”

“Like—I don’t know—you ever take gymnastics or learn anything else cool in your ballet class?”

“I did! I’m actually not bad at gymnastics. But again—
why?
”

“Good.” He pulled her to a stop and bent his head close to hers. “’Cause, here’s the deal.”

* * *

A
N
HOUR
LATER
, they’d conferred with Nolan’s dad and turned on the ancient boom box Mr. D had set up outside Nolan’s window. Old-fashioned circus-type music blared out of it.

“Holy crap,” Austin yelled over it. “Doesn’t it make you kinda wonder about your uncle that he’d actually have this kind of music just lying around?”

Bailey laughed, then said, “There he is!”

He turned to see Nolan standing in his window, his face a nightmare of eruptions, his hair flattened here, standing on end there. Austin hit his best friend’s auto number in his Droid, and Nolan disappeared from the window for a moment before coming back with his own cell phone in his hand.

Bailey cut the music and Austin held his phone so both of them could hear. “I can kind of see why you haven’t wanted to Skype,” he said when Nolan answered.

“Ya think? Jeezus, can you imagine my chances with Stefani Baldwin if she ever caught sight of this?” He grimaced, then asked, “What’s with the crap music?”

Bailey snatched the phone from Austin’s hand and bawled, “Laaadies and Gentlemen! The moment you’ve been waiting for is finally here! Pull up a seat, grab your popcorn—” Mrs. D came into sight with a bowl that she passed to Nolan as his little brother jumped in excitement next to him “—and welcome the Amazing Austinini!” Snapping the cell closed, she tossed it back to him, turned on the music once again and performed a cheerleader-like jump while he shoved the phone in his pocket. Then she took three running steps and did a flip.

He picked his old BMX up off the grass and mounted it. He hadn’t ridden the low-slung bike since last year, when he’d graduated to a more grown-up model. But he hadn’t been able to let go of it entirely and now he was glad. While Bailey did ballet-type leaps and gymnastic flips and Mr. D grinned over by the garage, he broke out the tricks he and Nolan had spent a good part of their childhood practicing: balancing on the back tire, balancing on the front while twisting the rest of the bike from side to side, bouncing across the lawn on the front tire, riding around the lawn hands-free.

Okay, that last one was weak and he flubbed the others a time or two. He was also forced to repeat himself more than once, since he only had the three real tricks. But he took theatrical bows after each one as if he was the hottest performer this side of Las Vegas. And in the end, his screwups didn’t really matter, because the payoff was huge. He could see Nolan stuffing popcorn in his mouth and grinning his ass off.

He was still pumped when Jenny arrived home from work, as afternoon faded into evening and found him grilling sandwiches.

“What’s this?” she asked with a smile. “You’re cooking? What a treat!”

“Yeah, I invited Jake for dinner. Would you grab me a can of tomato soup outta the cupboard? Maybe you’d better make that two. You and I usually kill off one.”

She was silent and he turned to look at her. “Jenny?”

“What? Oh, sorry. Maybe I’d better get three.
You
usually kill off one by yourself, and your father’s probably the same.” She went out to the cupboard in the mudroom that they used as their pantry. “So, uh, Jake’s coming for dinner, huh?”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded kind of funny, and he said uncertainly, “That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t usually care if I ask, like, Nolan or whoever without checking with you first.”

“Sure, sure. That’s...fine. The more the merrier.”

He grinned. “That’s what you always say.”

And usually I even mean it.
In the other room, Jenny ground her forehead against the cupboard door she’d just closed and concentrated on drawing in and exhaling deep, calming breaths.

Inaudible
deep, calming breaths, since she didn’t want to ruin Austin’s great mood. And really, she assured herself, this was fine. It was good, in fact. It was important that Austin forge a relationship with his dad. Jake was going to be taking him with him when he left—so the sooner they bonded, the better shape the teen would be in to deal with all the changes that were about to turn his life upside down.

But, oh, crap. It had been less than forty-eight hours since she’d rolled around on her bed with Jake, and she would really, really rather not have to face him just yet.

Or, say, ever.

Okay, that was childish. She pushed away from the cupboard. But she couldn’t pretend she was thrilled at the prospect of being thrown together with him again. How was she going to look him in the eye, knowing he had seen her bare breasts? How was she supposed to
not
think about the way he’d touched them? Hell, easy for him to sit across a table from her—
he
had nothing to worry about. He hadn’t even unbuttoned his shirt!

Her boobs had been out there and she was going to have to act all cool, as if it were no skin off her nipples, so to speak, should she see anything in his eyes that indicated he might be visualizing them.

The sudden knock at the mudroom door made her jump and emit an embarrassing almost-scream. Austin laughed in the other room.

“That must be him,” he said. “Toss me the soups before you let him in.”

Leaning through the open doorway to the kitchen, she lobbed them to him one after the other. Then, blowing out a final quiet breath, she turned back to the door, shook out her hands and reached for the knob. Damn. It would’ve been nice if she’d at least had a chance to refresh her lipstick. Not that she had any burning desire to impress Jake Bradshaw. But ask any woman and she would testify to the confidence-boosting armor of a dash of lipstick.

Plastering a smile on her face, she opened the door.

* * *

I
T
WAS
STUPID
, J
AKE
KNEW
, but he hadn’t expected Jenny to be here. He’d jumped to the conclusion that Austin had invited him for the sole reason that she was working tonight—maybe because the kid was cooking and an unconscious corner of Jake’s mind had made the assumption that the teen probably only did that when she wasn’t around to make his dinner.

Well, he knew what they said about
assume
making an ass of
U
and me. And seeing her, in a trim camel-colored straight skirt, one of those filmy, ultrafeminine blouses—this one in black and tan—and the skyscraper needle-heeled shoes she favored for business attire, stopped him dead in his tracks for a moment.

Acrimonious encounters with Max had taught him never to give anyone the advantage of seeing him off guard. He flashed her an insouciant smile and deliberately dropped his gaze for a moment to peruse those sweet little cupcakes beneath her blouse.

If he thought it would rattle her, he’d seriously underestimated her. The girl was clearly made of titanium alloy. Her cheeks turned a little pink, but she met his gaze coolly and raised her eyebrows at him, as if to say, “Well, aren’t
you
a tacky lowlife scumball.”