Dreamspinner Press Year Seven Greatest Hits Page 52

  “Technically,” he said, “Bethann used to be my sister-in-law.”

  The full meaning of his statement hit me a split second later. Bethann had no brothers, and Lulu had been her only sister, so—“You were married to Lulu?”

  He released a heavy sigh. “Yes. We met in college, believe it or not, right before I had to drop out. She was only the second woman I’d ever dated, but I fell hard and quickly. She was a godsend, so patient with me between my responsibilities to both my sister and the stores. A year after we met, I asked her to marry me. She said yes, even though she was still in school. Bethann flew up, and we had the ceremony at the justice of the peace, with our sisters as witnesses.”

  The van turned down the road to the house, and he slowed down to a crawl. “Lulu was seriously allergic to shellfish. We were always so careful when we went out. A few days after our three-year anniversary, we were at a party with friends. One of the plates of hors d’oeuvres got cross-contaminated and she went into anaphylactic shock. We didn’t have her medication with her. She died before we could get her to the hospital.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine that kind of helplessness.”

  He nodded slowly as he turned the van in a circle and idled near my car. “Yeah. After my parents, I felt cursed. And then when my sister died…. I’d kept in touch with Bethann, and I was lucky to have her back then. I’d have given up or done something stupid if she hadn’t come up and stayed with me.” He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, still staring out the windshield.

  I didn’t know what to say. The confession was more than I’d expected, full of personal pain and intense tragedy. We were both orphans who’d lost so much—but Jeremy’s pain was far heavier than mine, and I hated that I didn’t know how to soothe it.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said.

  “Huh?” I replied, certain I’d missed something.

  “Bethann is the real reason I chose to move to Franklin. The antiques crossroads thing was just a bonus feature.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re entitled to your privacy. I’m glad you told me, though.”

  “Bethann’s the only one in town who knows.”

  “Knows what?”

  “That I’m bi, or that I’ve dated guys.”

  I chewed on my lower lip, sure I should get out of the car but unable to stop asking one more thing. “Did she say anything about me being there this morning?”

  “Just offered up some whispered advice before she harangued me about the cracker candy.”

  “What kind of advice?”

  Jeremy actually looked embarrassed for a fraction of time. “She said ‘don’t let him break your heart’.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  His eyebrows shot into his hairline, and I realized what I’d said too late to take it back. Fear froze my brain, then kicked my flight instinct into high gear.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said as I shoved the door open and practically jumped outside into the cold winter morning.

  “See you at dusk?”

  “See you then.”

  I slammed the passenger door shut, then walked over to my own broken car. I made a show of tucking the bag of clothes into the backseat while the sound of the van’s engine faded into the distance, until it was gone completely. Why had I said that? Of course I didn’t plan to break his heart. I didn’t plan on letting things progress to a point where such a thing was possible. We were friends, we had friendly sex, end of story.

  Only as I set about my task for the day of getting into the hallway of my parents’ house, I had a funny feeling our relationship had changed. I just wasn’t entirely sure how.

  Chapter Nine

  BY WEDNESDAY, a week and a day after my arrival, three things had happened. First, my car was finally fixed, and I was no longer dependent upon Jeremy for rides to the property. Two, I learned that cracker candy was basically candied saltine crackers with melted chocolate poured over it. Kind of like poor man’s toffee, and it was addictively delicious. I didn’t go to the Christmas function on Sunday, but Jeremy brought me a bag of the sweet treats.

  Three, and most important, I finished cleaning the downstairs of the house. The kitchen had been a special kind of hell. All the appliances ended up in the dumpster, and I lost count of the number of garbage bags I filled. The odors of rot overwhelmed my sense of smell by the end of the day Wednesday. I was too nauseated to eat properly, and at quitting time I was pretty close to passing out.

  Jeremy had spent the last three days organizing the outside areas, providing company in an otherwise desolate task, and occasionally offering the use of his van as a place to fool around. Sex with him was easy, fun, and uncomplicated—words I’d never associated with sex before meeting him. We enjoyed each other’s company and each other’s bodies, and it made the time between “today” and the auction pass with a little more ease than before.

  At sunset, I trudged a familiar path from the back door to the dumpster with my last full garbage bag in both hands. I was dizzy, sick to my stomach, and ready to go back to my motel room and pass out. Standing at the edge of the dumpster, I gave the bag a mighty heave using the last of my energy reserve. It barely made it over the edge. Something glass clanked against metal, and then the bag tumbled down into a mound of its fellow filth.

  The action was a little too much for me, and the world tilted. I hit the frozen ground hard on my ass, which sent a jolt of pain up my spine. Everything fuzzed out for a second in a dull roar that clouded my eyesight and numbed my ears. Warm, gloved hands grabbed my cheeks and lifted my face, and I blinked hard to bring Jeremy into focus.

  “Hey, Cole?” His eyes were wide with worry, cheeks flushed from exertion. “You with me?”

  “Yeah, just got dizzy for a minute.”

  “I figured. You dropped like someone cut your strings.” He wrinkled his nose, and I didn’t blame him. “I think it’s time to quit for the day.”

  “No argument here.”

  “Good. Saves me insisting.”

  Now that my car was fixed, we faced a slightly awkward moment as we finished up and headed for our vehicles. Going back to Jeremy’s house for a shower, dinner, and “dessert” was easy with one mode of transportation, and except for that first night, he’d always taken me back to my motel afterward—at my insistence. I wasn’t sure of the protocol this time, even though I’d have to deny “dessert” tonight. I was past exhausted and not up to anything beyond a shower and sleep. Maybe food in between, if washing away the stink let my stomach settle down.

  “You look dead on your feet,” Jeremy said as we came to a stop halfway between our two vehicles.

  “Thank you.”

  “Too tired for dinner?”

  I made a face. “I know I should eat, but I can’t even think about food until I smell better. Honestly, I think I just want to go back to my motel and crash.”

  “Okay.” He gave me a warm smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yeah. Night.”

  “Night.”

  I followed his van back until the town’s only stoplight, where he made a left and I kept going straight. A strange pang of regret hit me in the chest as we separated, and I refused to examine the meaning behind the reaction. I was very used to having him around, both during the day and in the evenings, but tonight I just wanted to sleep.

  At the motel, I stripped as I walked toward the bathroom, making a mental note to add the clothes to the trash bag containing my other smelly articles for later washing. I showered with a little less speed than usual, taking some extra time to scrub down my arms and legs and to really wash my hair. After I rinsed and climbed out, I reached for the bathroom door to release some of the pent up steam. I stared at the knob button as a strange warmth flooded my chest.

  For the first time in two years, I’d forgotten to lock the bathroom door.

  I SPENT all night and part of the next morning on pins and needles, eager to tell Jeremy about
the bathroom door. To some people, that sort of forgetfulness meant nothing. Jeremy would understand the magnitude of the event. I was starting to feel safe again.

  He texted me around eight to say he couldn’t make it out until lunchtime, then added a few dollar signs to the end—shorthand for meeting with potential buyers. I worked in the house, clearing the staircase to the second floor. I couldn’t begin to guess the last time either of my parents had actually managed to get upstairs. Among the bags of old mail and receipts, I found things dating back four years and more. The structure of the house was still—to my shock and amazement—quite sound, so I got up the stairs and into the hallway by the time Jeremy’s van rumbled down the long driveway.

  I nearly tripped over my own feet on my way downstairs, and I was waiting in the yard when he parked closer to the garage than usual. Probably to load some things, which meant his meetings had gone well. He tumbled out of the driver’s seat with a bright smile that meant money was coming our way. I jogged over, beaming in such a way that it made him take a step back with a mock concerned look.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “You are probably the only person I could say this to and who wouldn’t find it strange,” I said.

  His eyebrows arched. “Go on.”

  “I took a shower last night and forgot to lock the bathroom door.”

  “Really?” His poor eyebrows couldn’t go any higher.

  “Really. At first I thought it was because I was so exhausted last night, but when I really thought about it, it didn’t bother me. There was no backwash of fear when I realized, nothing.”

  “Cole, that’s a huge step.” He tugged me forward into a bear hug that lifted me right off the ground.

  I laughed and wrapped my arms around his waist. “This is your win too. It might never have happened if you hadn’t pushed me to talk. Thank you.”

  “Come on, it wasn’t—”

  “Yeah, it was.” I pulled back far enough to look him in the eyes, to make sure he saw the sincerity in mine. “It was.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I really wanted to kiss him, but that wouldn’t lead to anything except at least an hour’s worth of distraction, and it was too damned cold today to expose my private bits to the elements. But we were definitely having dinner and dessert tonight. “What had you smiling so hard when you pulled up?”

  “I have a few new buyers lined up for some of the vintage advertising I found on Tuesday. I showed them photos, but they’d like to stop by this afternoon to inspect the signs before purchasing.”

  “Stop by here?” The words stuck in my throat as my heart sped up.

  “No, the store. I didn’t figure you’d want them to come here.”

  I glanced at his van. He was willing to load the signs and haul them back to town just for a look-see from potential buyers—all that extra work because I was embarrassed to let strangers see the house and yard. Dozens, if not hundreds of strangers would see it in all its infamous glory a week from Saturday. Why not get started?

  “They can come here,” I said.

  He hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. There’s no sense in you doing all the heavy lifting when they can come out here and pick up anything they want to buy.”

  “They’ll only be outside in the garage.”

  “I understand. It’s fine, really.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You can thank me by adding their hard-earned money to my starting-over fund.”

  Something in Jeremy’s smile tightened, and the flash of emotion made my stomach flip. This thing with us, whatever it was, wasn’t serious. It wasn’t even a fling. We were business partners who just happened to be fucking each other—probably not the best combination ever, but it worked. And I enjoyed his company. Every laugh, every smile and touch made this entire cleanup process a little more bearable.

  “I should give them a call,” he said, breaking away. He pulled his cell phone out of his coat pocket as he strolled toward the garage.

  I watched him go, feeling inexplicably lost, and then got back to work.

  BY SATURDAY evening, I was nearly two thousand dollars richer, and all from metal and porcelain signs advertising motor oil and farm equipment. Signs I’d have tossed into the dumpster along with all the other scrap metal, or given away to anyone who wanted to take the time to haul them. There was money to be found in antiques, if you knew where to look for it.

  Jeremy knew.

  He knew, and he was willing to share his expertise with me for a fair fee, and I couldn’t find the words to thank him for it. So I’d thanked him several times the previous night, and I hoped to thank him a few times tonight. He’d already called ahead to the Sow’s Ear for takeout. He went to pick it up while I swung by my motel for a change of clean clothes, and we met back at his house around the same time.

  We sat at the kitchen counter and ate our fill of barbecued pork ribs, hush puppies, and sweet potato fries, along with about a gallon of his iced tea. He entertained me by retelling a story that Meredith had told him about a man who’d tried to sell her his collection of old coins. She didn’t know if he was a con man or genuinely clueless, but only one out of twenty “old” coins had been real—and that one was only worth about twenty dollars. The rest were counterfeit, which she’d proved by using a magnet.

  I learned something through Jeremy’s story—old coins were pure silver, and silver was not attracted to a magnet. That man’s coins stuck to her magnet like burrs on shoelaces.

  “My dad used to have a dozen silver quarters in those square protector sleeves,” I said after we’d laughed over his story.

  “Really?” Jeremy’s eyes lit up. “Do you think they’re still on the property?”

  “I know they aren’t.” I ducked my head, a little embarrassed. “When I was ten I stole them and used them to play pinball with my friends. Dad was pissed when he found out.”

  “I bet.” He shook his head with an exaggerated cluck of his tongue. “A shame all that silver going into a pinball machine.”

  “I was grounded for two weeks.”

  “I’d have grounded you two months.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

  He slipped off his stool and started cleaning up the takeout containers. “Do you even know the price of silver these days?”

  “No.”

  “Then I won’t tell you.” He made a snorting sound. “Pinball.” He wasn’t really upset, but the show was amusing, so I pretended to be properly chastised.

  Once the countertop was cleaned up and wiped down, he circled to my side of the island and leaned his hip against the granite surface. I gazed up at him, at his teasing brown eyes and unique face, and realized that in a week all this could be over.

  I wasn’t certain that I wanted it to be. He’d gotten under my skin, damn it, and I didn’t know how to get him out.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “Now that our stomachs are full, I think it’s time for a shower.”

  He smiled indulgently the way he always did when it was time to take turns showering. “You want to go first?”

  I loved that he respected my fears enough to allow me that small privacy, but tonight I wanted to finally share that with him. To be brave enough to break down another wall between us—and within myself. “No,” I said. “I was hoping we could try it together.”

  An interesting parade of emotions trekked across his face in just a few seconds: surprise melted into confusion, which was followed by a smoldering heat that made my dick begin to take notice. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  My lack of hesitation must have convinced him. He stepped forward, between my knees, and rested his palms on my shoulders. I tilted my head up to gaze at him. He brought his head down, face closer, until our noses nearly touched. His barbecue-scented breath warmly caressed my mouth right before his lips touched the same spot. The tender kiss never deepened. It didn’t have to.
It remained a smooth press of lips, a silent promise to take my gift and be gentle with it. The kiss also promised something else—something I didn’t take the time to process right then.

  He pulled back first, just far enough for me to see his smile. “If at any time you feel uncomfortable—”

  “I’ll tell you. I promise.”

  The upstairs bathroom wasn’t incredibly large, and the bathtub wasn’t made for two adult men to occupy simultaneously, but somehow we made it work. A small coil of tension knotted my guts as Jeremy closed the bathroom door, trapping us both inside. The tension was based on old fears, not on anything Jeremy had ever said or done. I trusted him, or we wouldn’t be doing this.

  We shed our clothes with a moderate amount of elbows bumping and hips banging, and then he turned to set the water temperature. I gazed at the lines of his back, the strong muscles of his legs, and the grip-perfect shape of his ass, and my dick went from half-interested to fully involved with the proceedings.

  The tub had a curtain rather than glass doors, which made the room less ominous, and he pulled it back and waited. He was acting on my cues. I nodded, so he climbed in first. I approached the tub and stood outside for a moment, watching him step under the spray. It slicked back his dark hair, glossed his skin, and ran down his chest in tantalizing rivers. There was something incredibly erotic about a man showering—something honest and uninhibited about the simple act of rubbing soap into skin and hair. Just another dance as old as sex.

  Jeremy rubbed water out of his eyes and blinked at me as the hot spray pounded his neck and shoulders. The corners of his lips twitched. “Care to join me?” he asked.

  My neck jerked as an old instinct to lock the door kicked in. I shoved that instinct away. No one else was in the house, and the man in this shower would never intentionally hurt me.

  I stepped inside the tub and pulled the curtain closed. It seemed to shrink our shared space, which was fine by me. Close quarters gave me the perfect excuse to slide up close to him and draw him into a kiss. A kiss that flooded my mouth with his taste and demanded more. A kiss that allowed me to sneakily switch places with him and put the soothing hot spray on my own back.