Bachelorette for Sale (22 page)

“Far be it for me to deny a lady.” He kissed her deep as he plunged into her.

She wrapped one leg around his waist, pulling him in tight as he took her as she demanded. In those moments, he gave everything he had, everything he felt, everything he’d hoped for. Life. Passion. Love.

He used actions to say the words he couldn’t form.

She cried out his name as he pushed her over the edge, then followed. Cherry sagged against him and he braced a knee and arm against the wall to hold them both up. Their breath came out in deep, ragged gulps. They stumbled toward and landed in a heap on the bed, a sweaty mass of slick flesh.

“I should apologize.”

Her head shot up. “For what?”

“I forgot the chocolate sauce.” He chuckled and leaned over her. “Guess we’ll have to save it for round two.” If things went as he planned, they’d have many more nights to explore and experiment. They’d have a lifetime. First, he needed to convince the woman in his arms to bring over more than a toothbrush.

He started to slip from the bed. Cherry reached out and grabbed his arm. “Save it for round three. Right now all I need is you.”

Lying in bed with Cherry wrapped in his arms sounded like the perfect way to spend the rest of the night, until her stomach gurgled, and sent Cherry into fits of laughter.

“If you plan on a round two, I think you better feed me first or I may not make it,” Cherry said.

“You and me both. Come on.” He pulled her up and quickly they pulled on clothes and headed out to the patio, where he flipped on the heater and started up the grill.

They sat on the patio eating steak by candlelight, every morsel bursting with flavor. The dogs, spent from hours of play, lay at their feet. The crickets, cicadas, and frogs serenaded them with their song. Every muscle in Jason’s body relaxed and hummed with satisfaction.

“Maybe the secret to world peace is dessert first. Think about it, if they served dessert first at peace summits, we might not have any more wars. I can’t imagine hating anyone when I feel this good, much less summoning the energy to fight.” She swirled the wine around and around in her glass, seemingly mesmerized by the red liquid. “This is really good. You should think about selling it.”

“Thanks, can’t unless I have a vineyard . . . Rhode Island laws. While your idea has merit, it would only work if all the nations sent equal numbers of willing and unattached partners. Otherwise the UN might have a different kind of war on their hands.” Jason refilled her glass even though it wasn’t empty.

“Trying to get me drunk and take advantage? Oh, wait, can’t take advantage of the willing. Nice try, and good point. Would you, if you could, give up carpentry, plant some grapevines, and run your own winery?” Her voice was distant as she stared into the night sky.

He refilled his own glass, thinking about her question. In all honesty, he’d never thought about doing anything else. Not that he grew up dreaming of rehabbing buildings. The owner of a small construction company had given him a job hauling debris to the Dumpster and running errands for the crew, and he’d progressed from there. He paid Jason under the table, giving him instant cash and a way to feed himself and the old man, and more importantly, a way to escape as soon as he turned eighteen. He ran with it, never looking back, not really looking too far forward.

“I don’t know. There’s a big difference in making five gallons at a time for yourself and making fifty gallons or more for customers. Plus there’s tending the land, hiring the right employees, dealing with the strict state laws, and so much more. I love making wine, it relaxes me and you can’t top the reward. Turning it into a job would probably take the enjoyment away. What about you, what’s your dream job?”

She continued to stare at the sky, put more distance between them, making Jason wonder what was going on behind those stormy blue eyes of hers.

“Growing up, I wasn’t one of those children who knew I wanted to be a doctor or marine biologist or pole dancer.”

“Do many little girls have dreams of becoming pole dancers?”

Laughing, she sat her glass down and turned to him. “Really, in school I knew this girl, and her dream was to be a stripper. She used to practice at recess, spinning around every pole on the playground. Anyway, in college I decided I wanted to be a family counselor, but you need at least a master’s and I didn’t have the money to continue. Don’t get me wrong. I like my job as a property manager. It gives me a lot of freedom and the Realtors I work for are great, but I didn’t choose it. It was available and fit my needs. When this is all over, I’ve decided to go back to school.”

He swung his chair around to face Cherry, grasping her small, soft hands in his big, calloused paws. “When what is over? You’ve been distant since dinner. Do you think what’s going on between us is only physical and once the center is finished, so are we?”

She looked down, across the yard, skyward, anywhere but at him. “I don’t know what this is between us. We never talk about us, as in where we as a couple are going. I know it’s only been a couple of months, so I shouldn’t even be thinking about it. But I am. What am I to you, Jason? A fun fling? Someone you can see maybe being around for the long haul? And before you answer, I’m not asking for commitments. Just to know if I’m wasting my time here or not.”

Damn, and people said he had no patience. Try to wine and dine a woman, act with a little finesse and romance, and she knocks the wind out of your sails.
Here goes everything.
“I want you to move in with me.”

 

“Move in together?”

Cherry sat across from Jason under the starry sky, flabbergasted. Did he not get the part where she’d specifically said she wasn’t looking for a commitment right now? Wasn’t shacking up rushing things? They barely knew each other. Did he even know her favorite color? Or her favorite food? Scratch that, she’d confessed her love affair with Taco Bell on their first date. Her biggest fear? Surely you should know what sends the love of your life screaming like a seven-year-old before you share living space with them.

“Think about it, babe. We’re practically living together now. If I’m not at your place, you’re at mine. We spend all of our time together.”

“True.” Waking up next to Jason had become an addictive habit. One she didn’t want to break. At the same time, having their own places meant when he pissed her off, or she needed alone time, she’d have a place to go. If they lived together, where would she go for privacy? The bathroom?

“No one would have to get up from a nice, warm bed to run home and let the dog out instead of snuggling in and going for round two.” True, there definitely had been plenty of times when one of them had remembered at the most inopportune moment that either Bam or Tucker hadn’t been out in hours.

“This fall you’re going back to college, and if we split the rent you won’t have to work as many hours. Not to mention with business being slow for me, it’ll help me out. Think about it, it makes good sense.”

“And if we live here, Dave will be right upstairs.”

“Oh, goody. A two-for-one special.”

“Not like that.” He pulled her chair in closer, brushing his lips across hers. “It’ll just make it easier for work and stuff.”

“Hmm, too bad. He’s kind of hot, and he fits my threesome fantasy lover profile.”

“Funny. Did I mention? Sex anytime we’re in the mood. You know, we haven’t done it outdoors yet, and I have this great backyard.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Dave will love a live show, as will all your other neighbors.” She poked him in the chest as she pushed him away from her.

All (well, most) of the reasons he’d listed were valid, excellent, and even logical reasons for her to say yes. Steady—albeit great—sex and lower rent, last time she checked, were not the foundations for making it through the long haul. You needed friendship, trust, and love. She’d admit she and Jason had the first, and after a rocky start, the second. As for the third ingredient? Maybe. There was something between them, something strong, passionate, fun, something she couldn’t name.

The more she thought about his reasons and how they made good sense, the more she could feel her blood boil. She didn’t want logic. She wanted love. “You know, Jase, you forgot a couple of selling points.” She held up her fingers to tick off the items he’d missed. “I’ll never have to worry about how to open a new jar of pickles again. No more banging them on the counter, running them under hot water, or twisting one of those gripper thingies around and around only to have it slip. Now I’ll just be able to hand the jar over to you and wham-bam, you’ll use those hammer-swinging toned muscles of yours and the lid will pop right off.”

She stood, scooted her chair back, and paced. “I won’t need a stepladder to put the dishes away on the top shelf. Much more efficient.” She spun around to face him. “Let’s not forget the most important point. With a big, brave, strong man in the house, I’ll never have to fear going into the shower again and battling it out with a spider. One yelp from little ole me and you’ll come running to my rescue and kill the vicious creature.”

“Um . . . I’m afraid of spiders.”

Was it a default in male DNA that made them all fear arachnids? Seriously, how could an insect that measured no more than one inch across threaten a six-foot human? Step and twist your foot, problem solved.

Either the silence or the look on her face must have given away some of her thoughts. Jason sat back, his hands held up to stop her from saying anything or bolting. He hooked a foot around her chair and dragged it forward until it hit the backs of her legs.

“Hear me out, please.” He scooted closer, planting his feet firmly on the outsides of hers, trapping her between his strong legs as he pulled her back down to sit. “I’m not the marrying kind. We’ve both tried going down that path once before. What did it get us? False promises and broken hearts. I’m not up for a repeat, and based on what you’ve told me, I don’t think you are either. We’re good together, very good. Move in with me, Cherry. Let’s not let the absence of a piece of paper get in our way.”

The initial panic had subsided, allowing her brain to click back and letting her hear, really hear what Jason was saying. The problem was she still didn’t know if she understood what he wanted.

“What is it you’re looking for, Jase? Roomies with benefits? Long-term dating without commitment? Am I going to move in and come home one day to find some tall, gorgeous blonde rummaging in the fridge while you’re in the shower? Because I might not be ready for a ring and forever right now, but I know where I see and want my path to go.”

He rubbed his hands back and forth across the top of his thighs for so long she thought he’d set his pants on fire. Finally, he let out a long breath and looked up at her.

“You’ll never come home and find another woman’s been in our bed. Or been with me in that way . . . ever. As long as we’re together, it’s just you and me. Not roomies with benefits, not casual lovers living together, not—what did you call it? Long-term dating without commitment. Everyday that we’re together I’ll be just as committed to you and to making this relationship work as I am now, if not more. A piece of paper won’t make it more real. If there comes a time when one of us feels differently, we own up to it. Tell the other and end things. Simple as that.”

Simple as that. When had ending a relationship, any relationship ever been simple? She could still remember breaking up with Tommy Lagasse in the second grade. They had dated all of two hours. Then she told him she only wanted to be friends. He never spoke to her again. He’d even gone so far as to refuse to be her lab partner in tenth-grade science. No, breaking up was never as easy or as simple as that.

“What about children?” Cherry asked.

“Kids? What about them?” Jason’s voice tripped over the words as if they were boulders in his path.

“What if one of us wants a rug rat or two?”

He squirmed under the pressure. Clearly, not a topic he was comfortable with.

“I’d never really thought about it. With my family, passing on the DNA might not be the best idea in the world.”

“Come on, Jase. You turned out fine.” Wow, she hadn’t seen the conversation heading down this path. Living together. That was big stuff, at least in her book. She’d been expecting something more on the lines of
: that auction date was the best thing to ever happen to me.
Not:
let’s move in together
.

So, not the time to bring up going on the show. No, that would have to wait, because now she didn’t know what she was going to do.

“Can we . . . you know, I’ve just got so much going on right now. There’s work and the center and you know, registering for my master’s program. Not to mention my crazy family. I just don’t—”

“Wait. Don’t make a decision yet. At least not tonight. Promise me you’ll think about it.” Jason slipped his hands into her hair, his thumbs caressing the soft spots behind her ears. His lips brushed once, twice across hers before he sank into the kiss as if he was trying to wipe all doubt out of her mind with the one weapon he knew to be her weakness.

N
ormally the smell of yeast and the quiet pop of his carboy signaling fermenting wine soothed Jason’s soul, but not today. He pounded the dough, kneading the air pockets out, working out his mounting frustration. The center had survived the weekend without an incident, which was great, but they were no closer to finding who was behind the attacks. The past two days everything else had gone according to schedule, then this morning he’d walked into the site to find his supply shipment delayed and no one could tell him why, where it was, or when it would arrive. Hence he was home early during the middle of the week.

Yay, freaking hump day.

Not to mention for the past two days Cherry had found every possible excuse not to get together with him. He’d caught her off guard during their call this afternoon. He’d heard it in her voice, that “ah shit” right after she’d said she wasn’t doing anything tonight. If everything went his way, in a few hours they’d be sprawled out in his bed, soon to be theirs, celebrating. First he had to convince her they didn’t need a piece of paper to be committed.

Bam took off running for the front door, yapping and whining, a second before the door clicked open.

“Yo, Cupid, we got beer and steaks. You’re grilling,” Dave called out as he crossed the small foyer, setting the bag on the counter. He pulled out two six-packs, extracting a longneck for each of them before putting the rest in the fridge. Dave took one look at the dough and shook his head. “I don’t know what the hell that bread did to you, buddy, but I’m not eating it. I might chip a tooth or take out an intestine.”

Glancing down, Jason lifted the tough dough, poked at it, wadded it up, and scored two points when it landed in the trash. “What are you guys doing here? Cherry should be over in a while.”

“Nope. Ran into Tawny at the bank and she told me she’s surprising her with a girls’ night out. Something about you hogging all her friend’s time. We, being the loyal bros that we are, came to cheer you up and let you cook for us. Although after seeing what you did to that poor, innocent dough, I’m having second thoughts.” Dave took a drink of his beer while leaning against the counter.

Brody took up residence on the other side, snapped his cap between his thumb and middle finger, and sent it flying into the trash. “I’ll grill, but you owe me, and while I do you can tell us what’s eating at you. It better be more than your freaking love life too. After Fubar’s pathetic pie-pitching demonstration Saturday, I’ll be forced to revoke both of your man cards if you start whining about getting laid every night.”

The day kept getting better and better. Jason grabbed a couple of jars of seasoning, picked up the steaks, and headed outside, ignoring both men. Normally, he’d turn to Brody for advice. Lately, he’d sensed an undercurrent going on with his friend. He’d ask, but Brody would ignore questions until he was ready.

“Brody, don’t be a prick. Green isn’t a good color on you. Face it, Bro, you’d be lucky to ever get a woman half as wonderful as Cherry.” Dave burst out laughing before giving Brody a love tap on the arm. “Nah, scratch that. You’d never get a woman like Cherry. You’d see her walk your way and run the other direction.”

Jason sipped his beer, watching the anger pass through Brody’s eyes. Yeah, definitely something foul running through that river. “Dave, knock it off before Brody knocks your head off for you.”

Dave dropped into the patio chair, slouching like a beaten puppy with his beer hanging between his legs. “Whatever. You two aren’t the only ones with problems in your lives, but you don’t see me being a jerk to you.” He glared at both men, a challenge that Brody, of course, accepted.

Brody had taken the patio chair opposite Dave, creating a triangle with the three of them. While Dave had the look of a whipped dog, Brody’s expression was pure screw-you attitude. Not what Jason needed by a long shot.

“What’s eating you, Fubar? Barbie dump your sorry ass for a richer model?” Brody asked before taking a sip of his beer.

A one-finger wave was exchanged between the two, and Jason turned his back on them to man the grill. If this was their idea of cheering him up, it was a good thing he wasn’t suicidal.

“I broke it off with Mandi, and she wasn’t what I was referring to. Not everything has to do with a woman. This business at the community center affects me as much as Jason. Farber Electrical has taken a hit recently too. Someone has been filing false complaints against me with an online referral service and with the Better Business Bureau. So much for trying to branch out on my own.”

Flipping the steaks, Jason calmly closed the lid on the grill before turning his full attention to his friend. It was one thing for someone to mess with the job at the center, but to reach out and screw with his friend’s business was another story. “When did this happen?” he asked, taking an empty chair and pulling it closer.

“The BBB got a hold of me today. They were notified Monday. The online thing—they won’t tell me much, but it sounds like they’ve gotten two or three in the last couple of weeks. All since we started this current project.” He raised his beer, draining it dry before putting the bottle on the table. “It’s all BS, based on the reports. I didn’t do any of those jobs. The BBB gave me the customer names, so I can have a chance to make them good, but I’ve never heard of these people.”

Jason pondered this new development. “You think Bronson could be behind this? When he didn’t get his way and everything went to shit, he blamed us, said he’d ruin the both of us if we didn’t fix
our
mistake at our own expense. The guy has serious short-term memory loss, if you ask me. We told him cutting corners and quality would come back to bite him, and it did. He just can’t seem to remember that part of the conversation.”

Brody sat up straighter, the anger back flashing in his eyes. This time Jason knew it was for a different reason. Like him, they could fight amongst themselves, but outsiders beware. “Could be him. Give me all the info you have. I’ll get it handled for you or have lawsuits filed within the week.”

“Thanks, Bro.” Dave nodded his acknowledgment of the olive branch. Then he turned to Jason. “What all is going on with you? You’ve been tight-lipped all week. Is it the insurance company not paying or the fact that we’ve caught squat on the spy cams at the center?”

Ignoring the questions, Jason got up to tend the steaks. He heard Brody head inside, probably to restock their beers and grab some plates. He hadn’t planned on saying anything yet, not until he and Cherry had everything resolved. Except these were the guys. They didn’t do secrets. This was his family.

Brody came back out, set the plates down next to Jason and three beers on the table, along with forks and knives.

Neither Dave nor Brody pressed him. They knew he’d tell them when he was ready.

Plate loaded, Jason joined the guys at the table. For a few blessed moments he concentrated on his food, hoping the sound of nature would ease the headache brewing. Instead it ate at him and he spilled his guts. “I asked Cherry to move in with me.”

Brody stopped, his bite of steak midway to his mouth. “What?”

Waving his hand, Dave got their attention. “In here? Sweet. Does she know how to cook?”

“So what’s the problem?” Brody asked.

Jason pushed the half-eaten steak away. “She wasn’t exactly on board with the idea.” He filled his friends in on how the conversation went down and then sat back and waited for their unsolicited advice.

“You don’t deserve the nickname Cupid. Maybe we should start calling
you
Fubar.” Dave snagged the steak off Jason’s plate and dug into it. “You can’t romance a woman by telling her it makes sense to move in together because you’ll save money. Cherry went on
Finding Mr. Right
looking for her soul mate. She’s the type of woman who needs to be romanced, to be wooed. You tell her you want her to live with you because you never want to wake up again without her next to you.”

Jason flipped Dave off. He’d told Cherry he’d wanted her here. Maybe not in Dave’s exact words, but she should have gotten the message.

“Jase.” Brody waited until Jason turned to face him. “Does she know about Stephanie, the full story?”

“Why would I talk about my ex-fiancée?”

“Because if she knew how your ex cheated on you, along with your family background, she might understand your hesitation about marriage.”

Jason stared off into the night, never hating his past more than he did at that moment. “Fine, I’ll tell her tonight. But I’m leaving the details out. She cheated. End of story. I don’t need Cherry to say yes out of pity. And neither of you two open your traps either. Clear?”

All agreed the true reasons behind the breakup would remain hidden in the cone of silence, never to be spoken of again. Dave produced a deck of cards and began dealing as the other two cleared the dishes away.

“We need to come up with a game plan for work. Unless a miracle happens, with the damage done and the insurance company refusing to pay, the center isn’t going to have enough for all of the repairs before summer. If the job’s not complete, I don’t know if we’ll be getting those recommendations we set out to get at the beginning of this project. Either way, in a few short weeks we’ll be out of work.” He dragged both hands through his hair, looking to his friends for sympathy and understanding. Better yet, a solution.

Dave tossed him a card at his tap. “You know that reporter, the one who keeps hanging around? He told me if you were willing to tell him your story—background, history, how you and Cherry met, what’s it like to date a reality star, and so on—he could get you some big bucks for it.” He flipped a card in the pile and drew another.

Jason looked at him like he had five heads. “Are you fucking insane? He’s lying. The
News Today
doesn’t pay for stories. Besides, I wouldn’t tell him squat.”

“No, he wasn’t talking his paper. Some national rag. Just saying, with five to six figures for a story, you could be set for a couple of months until the next job came in.”

“No, thanks. Got any more brilliant ideas? Know where I could sell my kidney?”

Typical Dave, he sat with a stunned look on his face, only connecting the dots once someone else drew the line for him. For the next couple of hours they went back and forth, tossing ideas around, occasionally threatening to kick each other’s butts . . . it was what friends did. With the mood they were all in, Jason wasn’t surprised to see the full moon overhead watching over them.

They circled back to the idea of private backers as being their best chance.

“You think you can find any in your circle of clients?” Jason asked Brody as he tossed all of his cards on the table.

“I might have a few. I’ll start looking into it tomorrow, along with Fubar’s reputation problem. Give me a couple of days, my calendar’s packed right now.”

Hands stuffed in his front pockets, Jason walked to the edge of the patio, looking over his grapevines. “We’ve got a couple of weeks until the well dries up, but it’d be nice to see the job complete. I’ve got enough in savings to last me for a few months, have a few leads I’ve been holding off on following up to see how things go with the center. I don’t want to leave them high and dry, but a man’s got to eat and pay the bills.”

Not seeing the project finished felt like wasted time. In time he knew the center would come up with the money, but if, when that time came, he wasn’t available to finish the work, some other contractor—with his luck it would be RIB—would get the credit. The thought alone had his gut burning.

Brody clapped him on the shoulder, “Chill, Cupid, we’ll find a solution. We always come out on top. You should know that by now. I’ve got to jam, have a brief to write before morning. Fubar, shoot me that info tomorrow. Hang in there, bro.”

He was out the door before either Jason or Dave could respond or ask him what was eating him . . . typical Brody.

“I think whoever filed the false complaints is the same person behind the vandalism.” Dave’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Probably. Let’s hope the nanny cams catch them soon.” He turned back to Dave, who sat kicked back in his chair, his feet propped up in the chair Brody had vacated. The muscles around his face and neck looked considerably more relaxed now that he’d shared his burden. Too bad Jason didn’t feel the same.

 

On Thursday Jason rolled slowly out of bed, holding his head. When had thirty-one become old? Probably the moment after he downed his sixth beer on a near-empty stomach. Running a hand over his face, he headed for the shower, squinting at the bright sunlight shooting lightning bolts into his eyeballs and clean through his skull. Bam snuggled deeper under his covers, indicating she was no more ready to start the day than he was. Jason turned the water to scalding and stepped under the stream. For a few minutes he did nothing, thought of nothing, simply enjoyed the water pounding on tight muscles while the steam cleared away the cobwebs in his brain.

If one night without Cherry landed him with the mother of all hangovers, he didn’t even want to imagine how he’d survive life without her. The ball might be in her court right now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play some strategic defense to sink that baby and score the winning shot. And he’d start today. Right after the aspirin kicked in.

Thinking back over the last few weeks, he couldn’t pinpoint the moment Cherry had stolen his heart, had wrapped his soul around her pinkie. The first step down the slippery slope could have been when she’d agreed to have dinner at Taco Bell. Or maybe when she’d accused him of making porn movies. Now, that would be a good story to tell their kids one day. Whoa! Kids? The more he thought about it, the more the idea settled around him like an old friend.

Cherry would be a great mother. He’d seen her compassion and patience the day of the tag sale, the easy way she spoke to the kids on their level, never down at them, never getting frustrated with how long they took. With her, he’d have the type of family he’d always wanted, one filled with love and laughter. A wife who wasn’t afraid to tell her children she loved them, would always put them first. Family meant everything to her. Her grandparents were proof of where her loyalties lay. His children would never have to worry about their mother leaving.