Good, Bad…Better Page 11

  The words sent a warm thrill through Jen. “You really think I get to him?”

  “I know so. The question is, what is he going to do about it?”

  Jen grinned. “I guess the only thing to do is to keep after him until I find out.”

  8

  WHEN THERESA ANNOUNCED they were all going to watch fireworks with Jen and her friends, Zach told her to count him out. In less than a week, Jen had managed to turn his life upside down. He’d made a point to stay away from her for the past few days since that disastrous evening here at the shop. He was ready to get his equilibrium back, and socializing with her wasn’t the way to do that. “You and Scott can go,” he said. “I’ll stay here and watch the shop.”

  “I already told her you’re going. Besides, who doesn’t like fireworks? You’ll have fun.”

  He’d had more than enough fireworks in his life lately—the sexual kind he and Jen couldn’t seem to keep from setting off. He shook his head. “I’ll pass.”

  Theresa leaned across the shop’s front counter, her face inches from his own, her voice low. “It’s just a fireworks show. A picnic with a lot of other people around. What are you so afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything. I just don’t want to go.”

  She shook her head. “You’re afraid. Wait until I tell Jen what a coward you are.”

  “You wouldn’t!” He glared at her.

  His sister was impossible to intimidate, however. “Oh, yes, I would. I’ll tell her my big, bad brother is a coward at heart.” She tilted her head to one side, studying him. “I’m curious. Is it Jen—or her father—who has you so shook-up?”

  “You’re crazy.” He turned his back to her and focused on his sketchpad. Why was it women always thought they could analyze men? As if their natures entitled them to go poking around in a guy’s head.

  “Then go with us.” Her hand on his shoulder was surprisingly gentle. “Do it for me. It’ll be all right. I promise.”

  She knew how to get to him, all right. She absolutely wasn’t the type to plead, so when she did so, it knocked him off balance. That, and her accusation of cowardice were a one-two punch he couldn’t stand up to. “All right. I’ll go.”

  They closed up shop early the evening of the fourth and were gathered on the curb when Jen pulled up in her Volkswagen, followed by Shelly and her boyfriend in a Lexus. When they got out of the cars, Jen made the necessary introductions.

  “Scott, you take the cooler and ride with Shelly and Aaron.” Theresa, being her usual bossy self, directed everyone. She shoved a picnic hamper into the back seat of the Bug. “Zach and I will ride with Jen.”

  Jen hugged Theresa and beamed at Scott and Zach. She was dressed in a filmy sundress made of some soft, crinkly fabric. Zach found himself speculating on what she was wearing underneath it. Not much, he’d wager. Then he resolutely pulled his mind away from the erotic image it had conjured. This evening was purely social. There was nothing intimate about it.

  Except that when he slid into the front seat next to Jen, Theresa having claimed the back seat, he could smell the vanilla of her perfume even over the aroma of fried chicken. He rolled down the window and stared out at the street, determined to remain indifferent.

  Though traffic headed to Town Lake was heavy, Jen was a good driver. The VW darted through breaks in the lanes and eventually eased into a parking space in a lot next to the soccer fields. Carrying blankets, picnic baskets and the cooler, they joined the crowd streaming toward the lakeshore. Children shouted and raced around knots of people, accompanied by the occasional barking dog or scolding parent.

  Jen’s group claimed a spot midway between the bandstand and the water, and arranged their belongings on blankets. While Scott served up drinks, Theresa and Jen distributed the food. Jen brought Zach a plate piled high with chicken, Chinese spareribs, potato salad, beans, cheese cubes and a brownie. “Hope you’re hungry,” she said.

  “Looks great.” He stared at the plate to avoid looking at her, and wondered how he was going to eat all this when his stomach was in knots. And what was he so keyed up about anyway? There was nothing that said he couldn’t come out and enjoy an afternoon with friends, was there?

  He ordered himself to get a grip, and thought he was doing a pretty good job of calming down when Jen settled next to him on the blanket and began to eat. Watching her suck barbecue sauce off her fingers was enough to make him sweat and shake.

  He looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but Scott was busy flirting with a shapely brunette on the next blanket over. Shelly and Aaron had their heads together in private conversation, and Theresa’s gaze was focused on a trio of cowboy types gathered under a light post a short distance away.

  Somehow he managed to clean his plate, though he couldn’t have told anyone what the food tasted like. Jen finished her own meal and smiled at him. “I’m really glad you came with us this evening,” she said.

  “Uh-huh.” He wasn’t about to tell her he really wished he’d stayed home. Being this close to her and not touching her was almost too much to take.

  Shelly announced she was going to look for the ladies’ room and Jen joined her. When they had gone, Zach scooted over to Theresa. He nudged her and nodded toward the cowboys. “See anything you like?”

  She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “You know what they say. ‘Cowboy butts drive me nuts.’” She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. “This is nice.”

  He stretched out beside her. “It’s okay.”

  “Do you remember that Boys & Girls Club picnic we had here? I was about ten, so you’d have been twelve.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” The Boys & Girls Club of Austin had sponsored a picnic for foster kids and other disadvantaged youth. They’d put on a big spread, with hot dogs, ice cream, balloons and a clown. Zach had had a blast until he’d overheard one of the volunteers tell her son not to get too close to “those children” or he might catch something.

  He figured out later that “normal” people—people with families and money and all the things he didn’t have—would always see him as different. Dangerous, even. Living up to their expectations seemed easier than fighting them.

  “I really like Jen.” Theresa’s voice pulled him away from his brooding.

  “Yeah. She’s okay.” More than okay, but why admit it out loud?

  Theresa sat up and thumped him on the chest, hard. “Oh, please! Could you drop the macho act for half a minute and admit you have feelings?”

  He frowned at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She glanced around, then leaned closer, speaking softly. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You really care about her, don’t you?”

  He sat up now, alarmed. “I’m not answering that.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face. And frankly, I’m glad. You need somebody like her in your life.”

  “Thank you very much, Miss Know-it-all. Since when are you an expert on what I need?”

  “Who knows you better than I do? All I’m saying is, don’t be afraid to let yourself feel something for a change.”

  He was trying to think of a way to tell her to mind her own business when Jen and Shelly returned. Theresa moved aside to make room for Jen next to him. “I think the fireworks are about to start,” Jen said. She leaned close, her arm brushing against his.

  The band began to play and a cheer rose up from the crowd. Zach forced his gaze skyward, away from Jen. He was still reeling from Theresa’s assessment that Jen was good for him—that he needed someone like her in his life. Where had his sister come up with that crazy idea? Jen Truitt was the very last person he needed. Sure, they’d had a good time in the sack. But aside from sex, they had nothing in common. Not to mention that Jen was going away. He couldn’t think of a worse set of circumstances to build a relationship upon.

  A trio of rockets shot into the air and exploded in a cascade of gold and blue. Chrysanthemums of red a
nd green and bronze blossomed straight overhead, and the air filled with the sharp tang of gunpowder. The excited gasps of the crowd mingled with the trumpet fanfares of the band as silver tracers snaked into the air, followed by multicolored bomb bursts, like brightly colored paint splashed against the night sky. Ashes and bits of paper drifted over them like snowflakes.

  “Isn’t it fantastic?” Jen whispered, snuggling against him.

  He put his arm around her, giving in to the desire to feel her close to him. “It’s pretty spectacular,” he agreed. But he wasn’t really talking about the fireworks show. The way she looked into his eyes and smiled, he wondered if she somehow knew that.

  WITH THEIR EARS RINGING from the final grand display of light and color, the spectators began gathering up their belongings and heading toward the parking lot. As Theresa helped Jen fold their blankets, she explained that Scott had left earlier with the brunette from the next blanket. “I’ll ride back to the shop with Aaron and Shelly,” she said. She glanced toward Zach, who was helping Shelly repack the cooler. “I know you want to be alone with my brother.”

  “Thanks.” Jen leaned over and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Wish me luck.”

  “Zach’s the one who’s lucky.” She stood and folded a blanket over her arm. “Though I don’t know if he realizes it yet.”

  Jen purposely hung back to let the others get ahead of them, then took Zach’s arm as they started walking. “You remember the first night we came here?” she asked. “When you picked me up from the dance studio?”

  He nodded. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with you. I wondered if I’d made a mistake going to see you at all.”

  “It wasn’t a mistake.” She stopped and pulled him to the side of the path, into the shadow of a live oak. “I wanted you to take me home with you that night.” She drew his face down to hers and kissed him, unable to contain her urgency. “I’ve been wanting to do that all evening,” she said, resting her face in the crook of his neck. “Sometimes when I’m with you, I feel like I’ll die if I can’t touch you.”

  “I know.” He smoothed his hands down her back and pulled her closer. “It’s crazy.”

  She smiled. After years of being so logical and ordinary, it felt good to go crazy this way. She took his hand and squeezed. “Come back to my place. I want to touch you all over. And for you to touch me.”

  He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. I want to touch you, too.” He massaged her shoulders, his fingers kneading her muscles. “Though I’m still not sure that’s such a smart idea.”

  “You worry too much.” She slid her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and pulled him close.

  “Now you sound like Theresa.”

  “You should listen to your sister.” She inched her fingers lower, brushing the top of his ass, smiling when he flinched.

  “Between the two of you, I don’t stand a chance, do I?” he said.

  She laughed. “No, you don’t. You might as well surrender now.”

  He bent and nibbled her neck. “What if I beg for mercy?”

  “It won’t do you any good.” She arched against him, aware that only thin layers of fabric separated them. “Your sentence has already been decided.”

  “Oh?” He bunched the fabric of her dress in one hand, lifting it until cool night air brushed across her thighs. “And what’s my punishment?”

  “Take me home and make love to me. All night.”

  “All night?” He shaped his hands to her buttocks. “Are you sure I’m up to the task?”

  She rubbed her hand along the fly of his jeans. “I’d say you’re up to it. But I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

  “How far is it to your apartment?”

  “About a ten-minute drive.”

  He took her hand and pulled her down the path. “Then you’d better drive fast.”

  LUST GOT ZACH AS FAR AS the door of Jen’s apartment, but once inside, nerves overtook him again. He followed her into the living room and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around. The place was plainer than he’d expected, with only a sofa, one side table, a lamp and a few pictures. But given time, he had no doubt she’d fill it with all the frills and fribbles women seemed to like. Even his sister, who was the most practical woman he knew, couldn’t resist ruffles and lace and all the trimmings that marked a woman’s territory.

  “Nice place,” he said. “What do your parents think about it?”

  “My dad hasn’t seen it yet, though they’re coming to dinner here as soon as we can all find a free night.” She deposited her purse on the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen, and opened it. “While I’m thinking about it, this is for you.” She handed him a key.

  Light winked off the silver key as it lay in his palm. “What’s it to?” Though he had a sinking feeling he knew.

  “This place. I thought it would be good to give keys to a few friends, in case I lost mine or there was some kind of emergency.”

  He didn’t buy the explanation. To him, a key meant something—permanent, or at least long-term. Having a key to her place was a privilege and a responsibility he didn’t want. “I don’t need this.” He tried to hand it back to her, but she crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to take it.

  “You keep it,” she said. “It might come in handy.”

  He shook his head, but she’d already turned her back to him and headed into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink? Iced tea or a Coke?”

  He laid the key beside her purse on the bar. She’d get the message when she found it later. “Coke sounds good.”

  While she fixed the drink, he sat on the couch and studied the pictures grouped on the wall across from him. Jen with friends. A much younger Jen in a white leotard and ballet slippers. Jen with her parents. Jen in a world that was foreign to him.

  She returned with their drinks and settled onto the sofa, beside him. He nodded toward the pictures. “So have you always wanted to be a dancer?”

  She nodded. “I started taking lessons when I was six. My parents wanted me to study ballet, but when I got older, I gravitated toward other kinds of dance—tap, Latin, jazz and then hip-hop. When I heard about the Chicago Institute of Dance and Razzin’! I knew that’s what I wanted to do.”

  He sipped the Coke, the cold drink easing the tension in his throat. “And now your dream is coming true.”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly easy.” She set her glass on the table beside her and stretched her arms over her head, an unselfconscious gesture that thrust her breasts forward and made his heart beat faster. “I actually tried out for the company the first time two years ago.” She shook her head. “I didn’t make it.”

  “You didn’t?” He’d just assumed that someone like her—someone who came from money and privilege—wouldn’t have any trouble getting what she wanted.

  “I wasn’t good enough. I spent the next year working hard to get good enough.” She smiled. “All that work paid off. When I tried out again, I was accepted into the program.”

  “I’m impressed. A lot of people would probably give up after being turned down once.”

  She set her chin in a stubborn line. “That’s what people don’t understand about me. I know I look sweet and easygoing, but when I really want something, nothing stops me.” Her eyes met his and her lips formed a knowing smile. “The way I wanted you.”

  “And I want you.” His mouth on hers was firm, assured, the kiss of a man who is moving in familiar territory. All that talk about feelings and dreams had made him uncomfortable. He didn’t have to think about the future or try to explain the past when they stopped talking and focused on enjoying each other physically.

  She pressed against him, her response heated and eager, her fingers fluttering at the back of his neck, her mouth whispering encouragements.

  He stood and gathered her into his arms. “Where’s the bedroom?”

  “Down the hall. Second door on the right.”

  He found
the room with no trouble, making his way to the bed by the light from the hallway. He laid her down, then switched on the bedside lamp. “Do you remember the punishment you promised me?” he asked.

  Her smile racheted his desire up another notch. “You’re to make love to me all night long.” She licked her lips, a frankly lascivious gesture that set him to tugging off his clothes.

  “I don’t know about all night, but I promise to do my best.”

  “I’m sure your best is very good, indeed.” She stretched, her back arched against the mattress, her arms over her head. “I’m all yours.”

  The words did funny things to his insides—things he didn’t want to examine too closely. For now, he wanted only to live in the moment. To concentrate on the pleasure he could give them both. To make this time special.

  When he was naked, he knelt beside her on the bed and undressed her, lifting the gauzy dress over her head. Beneath it, she wore only pink satin bikinis with butterflies on either side. He hooked his thumbs around those butterflies and dragged the satin down her thighs, then bunched it in his fist and brought it to his nose, inhaling her musk, the evidence of her desire.

  “Come here.” She reached for him.

  He lay beside her, smoothing his hands over her, tracing every indentation and curve. He kept his touch light, teasing, resisting the urge to hurry. He wanted tonight to last, for them both to remember this one evening, long after they’d gone their separate ways.

  His hands gave way to his mouth and tongue. He kissed her face and neck, and tasted the skin along her shoulders. When he came to her breasts, she pressed against him, urging him to linger. He trailed his tongue along the outside of each one, tracing concentric circles, drawing closer and closer to the taut nipples.

  When he drew that reddened peak into his mouth, she whimpered and pressed closer still, thrusting against him.

  He took his time, making her wait, and forcing himself to wait. He wanted to make her feel things no one else ever had. He wanted this night to be more special than any she’d ever known.