Causing Havoc (19 page)

drown out the roar of her guilt. "Dean ..."

"Forget I asked, al right?"

For the first time since meeting him, Dean seemed unapproachable and forbidding. Because of her.

He'd come as soon as he got Cam's letter. He'd left Eve's bed just to drive her home from the bar.

It didn't matter what he said, his actions were loud and clear.

A great flash of lightning cut through the concealing blackness of the storm, lighting up the interior of

his car.

Jacki wished it hadn't. She wished she hadn't seen his face, so remote and deliberately blank and ...

wary.

What to do? No options came to her—other than honesty. So Jacki curled her legs up onto the seat

and turned toward him. He said nothing, didn't even acknowledge her.

"You know I've never dealt with a brother before."

He ignored her, but Jacki refused to be intimidated.

"Natural y I'm going to botch it here and there." Tears swel ed in her throat, causing her voice to break. And that pissed her off. She hated nothing more than being a wimpy girl. "You're going to have to give me some time, damn it."

A new emotion—something like awful dread—sucked the air out of the car. Dean glanced at her,

then away. "Swear to God, Jacki, if you start crying, I'l pul over right now and put your sorry ass on the curb."

Such a terrible threat to make. But Dean didn't sound like he meant it. He sounded desperate.

Jacki gargled a hideous, weepy laugh. "Yeah, right."

"Try me." He leaned over and opened the glove box to hand her a box of tissues.

"Thank you."

"They came with the rental."

That made her laugh again. And while they were on a high note ... "It's because he's a big gorgeous

hunk."

"Who is?"

To go from crying to laughing was an odd thing, but maybe big brothers were good for that sort of

thing. "Gregor."

Looking more appal ed than she'd thought possible. Dean said. "Don't make me puke."

And with that, she fel into the giggles. Dean suffered her, just rol ing his eyes when she'd try to

col ect herself, only to lose it again.

They were only minutes from her house when he said. ""Are you done being hysterical?"

"I wasn't. It's just that you're funny."

"'Yeah, and that's why they named me Havoc."

Grinning, Jacki reached over to punch him in the shoulder. "Such a comedian." She studied his

handsome profile. "Thank you. I appreciate the concern."

"No problem." Silence reigned for another minute. "I take it we're done talking about Gregor?"

"Definitely." No way would Jacki discuss her insecurity about her boobs with Dean.

He accepted that with a shrug. "So, you go to that bar often?"

"Not real y." Half a box of tissues helped to clean up her ruined makeup, but there wasn't much she could do about her hair. "I've been there a couple of times. The other day I noticed a HELP WANTED

sign, so I put in an application."

"Why there?"

"Why not there?"

Exasperation showed in the way he adjusted his hold on the steering wheel. "It's a bar, probably

overflowing with men who've had too much to drink."

"And here I was thinking it was your kind of place."

"Exactly."

Yep, her brother was a regular joker. "I've thought about what you said."

He groaned. "What'd I say?"

"You know, about working and going to school both. I can do it. I know I can. It's just that Cam has

always insisted I shouldn't, and it was easier to let her have her way than to do what I know is right."

"It wasn't my place. I should have kept my mouth shut."

Jacki was glad he hadn't. "You made perfect sense, Dean. Al the financial pressure shouldn't fal on Cam." She hid her grin when she added, "And now I can use you as backup when Cam has a fit,

because I've already been hired."

As Dean turned down her street, his headlights cut across the wet landscape. They'd driven out of

the worst of the rain. Now only sprinkles remained, with the low rumble of thunder off in the distance.

Dean's expression didn't change, but she felt his consternation. "Jacki—"

"I know, I know." She patted his shoulder in understanding. "You're not that type of brother. Don't worry about it."

She heard him mutter, "Shit," real low, and then, "Couldn't you have applied at a dress shop in the mal or something?"

Jacki snorted. "Yeah, right. For minimum wage? Thanks but no thanks." They'd be home soon. She

regretted it. It was kind of nice, talking with Dean like this. "I'l get two bucks more an hour at the bar, plus the tips are great. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm hardly the mal clerk type."

A brief smile appeared before Dean asked, "What is a mal clerk type?"

She didn't have to think about it. "Perky."

"You're not perky," he agreed.

"Most of those dippy girls in the mal are ex-cheerleaders, real into designer duds and flirting and

fashion." She looked out the passenger window. "Too much of that and I'd go nutty."

Dean actual y laughed. "Yeah, it'd make me a little crazy, too."

She turned back to him, wanting his support, though she didn't know for sure why. "The late hours at

the bar suit me. Unlike Cam, I'm not a morning person. And it's part-time so it won't interfere with

school. It's close enough that getting a ride there and back shouldn't be a big problem. But when it is,

there's a bus stop only a few blocks away."

"A bus stop." he repeated without much enthusiasm. He nodded, chewed his upper lip. "You

mentioned that on the phone."

"Before you hung up on me."

Again his fingers tightened and then loosened on the steering wheel. "Listen, I'm not playing

protective older brother or anything like that."

Yeah, he was, Jacki realized. But she said only. "Got it."

"Do you think it's a good idea to be walking around down there alone at night? It didn't look like the best section of town to me. Two blocks away is far enough that if you got into trouble, who'd hear you

if you cal ed out for help?"

"I won't get into trouble." She hoped. But damn it. now Dean had spooked her. The area wasn't that bad, but it also wasn't wel lighted or very busy in the evening.

"I don't know ..." Their eyes met, he studied her for a brief instant, then shrugged. "But hey, you're an adult. I'm sure you know what's good for you."

He didn't sound at al convincing.

They pul ed up in front of her house. "I'd like to make one suggestion—" Dean stal ed midsentence.

His face went blank with disbelief. "No fucking way."

The sudden expletive took Jacki by surprise. She leaned forward to look through the front

windshield. She fol owed Dean's gaze, and saw .. . her sister on the roof!

"Damn it." Jacki quickly undid her seat belt and opened her door. "The stupid roof must be leaking pretty bad for her to be up there right now."

"No way." Dean shook his head. "Your sister is not on that roof in the middle of an electrical storm.

Wait a minute. What the hel is she doing? Is she holding ... plastic?

Jacki left the car. "Yeah, she is. Sometimes when it rains this hard, the upstairs leaks, especial y the ceiling in Aunt Lorna's room. I better go help her." She leaned into the car, wondering how mushy she ought to get. She settled on saying, "Thanks for picking me up, Dean. I real y enjoyed our chat."

"Oh no you don't."

For the first time, Dean looked outright furious, more like Havoc than the man he'd shown her so far.

It was something. Impressive. A little scary.

And confusing.

Jacki pul ed back. "Is something wrong?"

With nothing more than a dark expression, he turned off the car and got out. His slammed car door

sent an echo along the wet, empty streets. Jacki winced.

Stil muttering, Dean made a beeline through the rain-soaked yard to the side of the house where

Cam struggled with a sheet of plastic.

Jacki hustled after him.

He stopped just below where her sister worked. Standing back far enough that he could see Cam

from the glow of the streetlamp, he propped his hands on his hips and bel owed, "Just what the hel do you think you're doing?"

CAM nearly fel off the roof. She'd been so intent on wrestling with the stupid plastic against the wind

and rain that she'd barely noticed when the car pul ed up out front. In the back of her mind, she'd

assumed a neighbor had just gotten home. Not for a single second had she expected such a late

night visit from Dean.

What was he doing here?

She cal ed down, "Dean?"

Jacki answered. "Hi Cam. Dean gave me a ride home."

Cautiously approaching the side of the wet roof, Cam peered down at her brother and sister.

Brother and sister.

Damn, it struck her again. Despite the current circumstances of being stuck on the roof in a storm,

happy tears leaked into her eyes. From the moment she'd met Dean, she'd been fighting off a good

cry.

A happy cry.

But neither Dean nor Jacki seemed sappy about it, so she refused to let them hear her weep.

It was dark enough that they wouldn't notice, and with the rain pelting al three of them, the tears were

likely hidden anyway.

So frustrated and cold that her teeth chattered, Cam gripped a fistful of the thick plastic and

concentrated on making her voice steady. "Where were you, Jacki?"

Throwing up his hands, Dean laughed in disbelief. He stomped two steps closer to the house and

glared up at her. "What the
hell
does that matter right now?"

Cam's knees started to shake from her awkward positioning on the slanted roof. "I didn't know she

was out."

As if she were too stupid to realize it, Dean slowly and precisely growled, "You're on the roof, Cam.

In a storm." And then his back stiffened in added horror. "Are you in your
nightgown?"

His nasty tone nettled her. She'd pul ed on a housecoat. But once the rain started pouring into the

house—as she'd known it would—-what else could she have done? Taken the time to dress? Waited

until the next day, after more damage had occurred?

She didn't have the money to cal someone for repairs. She didn't have anyone she could ask for

help, except Roger, and he'd helped far too much already.

The stupid plastic caught on the wind and twisted around her legs. She pushed wet knots of hair

from her face. Lips stiff and voice crackling, she said, "I have to finish tacking this down. If you two want to go inside, I'l be right there to make some coffee."

For a second, Cam thought Dean might somehow fly up to the roof and throttle her. He appeared

more than capable of it. And it was odd, because not much light reached them at that corner of the

yard, but she had not a single doubt as to his feelings at that moment.

Then suddenly he calmed. "Where's the ladder?"

Cam didn't know what to make of his new mood. "Around back. Why?"

"I want you to come down from there." He walked away before she could explain she wasn't finished.

Cam careful y freed herself from the restraining plastic and inched her way back to the point of the

roof where she thought most of the rain entered.

A minute later, a big, warm hand circled her elbow. "Enough, Cam. You'l go down the ladder and into

the house. Dry off. then go ahead and make coffee if you want. Or better yet, have Jacki make it."

How the heck had Dean gotten up there so quickly? And he wasn't stooping, the way she did, trying

for better balance. He stood straight and tal .

She shook her head. "Jacki doesn't know how. She's never made coffee."

"Then it's about time she learned. She not an idiot. She can read the directions on the can. Tel her to do it and she wil ."

Cam blinked at him. And her shivers of cold turned to trembling annoyance. "I can't go in just yet. I stil have to—"

"No, you don't. I'l take care of it."

More than anything, she wanted to say, "Okay," and get inside where it was warm and dry. But she'd been independent too long to let a beloved brother come on the scene and order her around. "Thank

you. That's very nice of you. But I can't—"

"Yes. You can." That odd steel thickened his words. "You wil ."

Her brows crept down. "If you real y want to help, since you're up here anyway, that's fine. But I've only got one hammer and a smal pack of tacks with me."

"That's al I need."

He could be right. "You could hold down the plastic while I tack it in place. We'd get done quicker that way." The idea of working with him pleased her. "Between the two of us—"

"You'l be in my way."

Somehow, without her even realizing it, he'd managed to urge her over to the ladder. Jacki stood at

the bottom, waiting for her.

"This is my . .." Her words trailed off. Arguing that it was her roof, after she'd spent dinner convincing him the house was partly his, didn't seem like the best tack to take. "It's my responsibility."

"Not anymore." Dean held her arm tightly. "Careful now. The rungs are wet."

He waited for her to get on the ladder.

The soaked nightgown and house coat clung to her knees. The sneakers she'd tied on in haste

squished with every step she took.

Seeing no hope for it, she got on the top rung, but then hesitated. "What are you going to do?"

"Find where it's leaking, first."

"I already did that. I was covering the leaks with plastic."

He glanced back at her lumpy layers of plastic. "I don't think so."

"But—"

"Most leaks come from lost or loose shingles or corroded metal flashing, especial y around the

chimney. Some are from open joints."

He didn't understand. "I was using the plastic to cover the places where the water is coming into