Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select) (9 page)

“Thanks, Lila. But I don’t have time for the distraction, though wonderful, I’m sure. I’ve got jobs to complete.”

He backed up, avoiding his reflection in the mirror.

God, he was a hateful, cruel bastard
.

His wife sat on the bathroom counter of her granny’s house, resplendent in her arousal. And he was going to just walk away. Like a jackass.

She was a helluva lot better off without him.

Grabbing his toolbox and his heart off the floor, Jake retreated from the bathroom. And his wife. Leaving her as crushed and defeated as the day she rolled out of his life ten years ago.

He recalled that day with startling clarity.

T
he aluminum of the webbed lawn chair squeaked under Lila’s butt as she shifted, lifting the backs of her thighs to catch the cooler breeze of twilight. Ordinarily she wouldn’t be sweating so much, even in the early July Texas heat, but the hard set of Jake’s jaw as he sat in the chair next to her made her sick with anxiety. The kind of anxiety that made a woman afraid and reluctant to face her own husband even though she knew the night wouldn’t get any easier the longer it wore on.

And if she just had the guts to tell him she was leaving, get it out in the open and over with, she could banish the queasiness of regret and guilt and get on with the bleak and tarnished future of being divorced so young.

Maybe if she forced him. “You just gonna sit there?”

Jake’s response was to lower his head a degree and stare at the St. Augustine grass of Granny’s backyard.

Even in this, their final discussion, Lila had to be the one to push, to bring it to a painful close. “I’m leaving in the morning. Granny’s taking me to the airport in Austin. I’m not taking anything ’cept my clothes, so you can have the stuff in the apartment.”

The muscle in Jake’s jaw jumped. Lila glanced away to the massive trunk of the pecan tree before she cried. She’d cried enough tears lately to fill a swimming pool.

“You can tell your parents why I’m going. I don’t suspect they care to hear anything from me right now.”

“You’re wrong.”

His quiet voice surprised her and she turned back, hoping to find something in his face that would tell her she was wanted. Needed. Loved. Except he wasn’t looking at her, but at his calloused hands clasped tightly between his knees.

She loved those hands, strong and warm and capable. Always capable of holding her, loving her, reassuring her. Until six months ago.

Lila waited for him to explain. He didn’t. She should be used to his withdrawal by now. His doctor said it was normal, that eventually, Jake would recover his old sense of self. But he hadn’t. And with his abdication of life went his love for her.

“Wrong about your parents? I doubt it. They’ve never really liked me.” And they sure the hell didn’t think she was good enough for their only son now.

“Is that why they bought you the Mustang?”

The old anger burned like a fresh bee sting, bottling up arguments in her throat, but Lila held them back, for once keeping her tongue checked and her feelings to herself. Maybe if she’d done that from the start, she wouldn’t be on the verge of hightailing it to Dallas to sponge off Granny’s sister, Tilly. But she’d trusted her emotions, trusted Jake’s, too, and it had earned her a one-way ticket out of Hannington.

“The Mustang is yours. I left the keys on the kitchen counter.” She stood, rubbing the web marks on the backs of her legs, wishing that with a few vigorous swipes, her heart would be as untouched.

Lila looked at Jake hard, imprinting his familiar profile on her mind, all the while knowing she was stupid for allowing even the tiniest swell of hope. The knowledge didn’t stop her from waiting, holding her breath, silently counting to ten and then twenty.

Nothing. Not a single word, or scrap of emotion she could cling to. Just icy distance.

“I’m selling the Mustang and moving home with my parents. I’ll send your half of the apartment deposit when I get it.”

Exhausted beyond her years, Lila gave in. “Fine. You can get the information from Granny.”

And then she turned her back on Jake Winter, her best friend, the boy she’d dated through high school, the man she married and cared for through his diagnosis with Hodgkin’s disease, and now separated, all before the age of twenty.

Lesson Number Nine —

Men feel proudest when they find the right solution to a problem. Let your man not only offer solutions, but sometimes fix the problem with one of his suggestions.

Chapter Eleven

“G
oddammit, Jake. You really want to do this?”

No. Although Howard Armstrong left him no choice. He couldn’t stand around and let the arrogant bastard malign Lila. Too many people felt comfortable doing that and then orchestrating Jake’s life while they were at it.

Personally, it pissed him off.

“It makes sense if you think about,” he told Howard, who reclined in his high-back leather office chair. “She’s willing to take the structure off the city’s books and dump a load of cash into it. So let her. It’ll be back on the tax rolls and you can collect the city’s portion.”

Howard sat with his fingers steepled on his lips, looking like the master of his domain. Unfortunately for the mayor, the extent of his authority was about as big as the town’s annual Central Texas State Fair. A once-a -year event attracting a few thousand people.

Disappointment and a dose of resentment drew his broad features down into a heavy frown. He didn’t like losing his rec center to Lila. His wide, bushy brows almost met and provided an intimidating cover for his mud-colored eyes. Eyes trained on Lila.

There wasn’t a damn thing Howard could do about the situation.

Lila had him beat.

“Surely raw land off the town square would cost the city less to develop for the recreation center,” she offered.

She had the mayor’s number, and Jake would have to make a point to watch her back. If any two people could make her life rough in the small town, the Armstrongs were it. Howard and Janie were formable and plain mean sometimes.

“Don’t lecture me about real estate, little lady. I know my job. And part of it is helping to improve the quality of life for our citizens. That building has been a blight for too long and frankly, we’d be better off without it. But that’s not going to happen now that you’ve come running in from the big city to save us from our naive and backcountry ways. Is it?”

He gave Lila a tight smile meant to put her in her place.

She straightened and leaned forward, resting a hand on the edge of Howard’s antique oak desk. Jake could see the angry glint in her blue eyes.

“You don’t like it because of what used to go on there. Admit it, Mr. Mayor. You think because a prostitute ran her business out of there, it doesn’t deserve to be protected. To be respected and acknowledged.”

Howard scowled, but didn’t deny the accusation.

“As the great-great-granddaughter of that prostitute, I intend to preserve her home and her memory.”

Howard stood abruptly, his face red with barely contained anger. His attempt to build and maintain a city of character flew in the face of Lila’s efforts to save, and probably promote to great fanfare, the former whorehouse.

“I’m warnin’ you two. That building better be more than just up to code. I’m not going to allow you to grandfather it in under any of the permits, Jake,” he said, turning his glare on him. “You hear me? I want it safe and secure for our citizens.”

Howard was such an asshole. That he questioned the quality of Jake’s work made him madder. “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jake motioned to Lila and they left the mayor’s office.

They walked in silence through the lobby and out into bright sunshine.

They had a lot of silence lately. Since the bathroom.

“Jake, thank you so much. I—”

“Stop.” They paused on the wide concrete landing outside city hall. “Let me make something clear. I’ll do this project for you against my better judgment, and at the risk of really pissing Howard off. I realize I’m the only one in town who has the team to do the job. But I don’t want to mislead you into thinking it means anything more than that.” He stared into her sky-blue eyes, driving his point home. “It’s a job. Not an opportunity for us to relive old times.”

She flushed red. “You’re not going to make me feel bad for what happened the other day, Jake. It’s natural we still feel a connection, and there’s nothing wrong with acting on it. We’re both adults, and still married for Pete’s sake.”

Yeah, he heard her. And the man downstairs was paying close attention. He groaned inwardly at the thought of working side by side with her day after day. The stress of it would have him constantly taking cold showers and rearranging his junk.

He shook his head and tried for a subject change as he walked her to Rose’s office to pick up the keys. “So this Prudence. She’s really your great-grandmother?”

“Great-great-grandmother. And yes, she is. You should read her journal, Jake. It’s amazing. She was extremely sharp and loving. Took care of the women she employed like they were family. It breaks my heart to think she might have been run out of town because people didn’t like her. People like Mayor Armstrong.”

“Wouldn’t be the last time,” he mumbled under his breath, thinking of Lila when she left Hannington for Dallas. She’d stuffed everything she owned in her old blue suitcase and disappeared into the sunset. Literally.

If he couldn’t give Lila what she deserved, a full life with a husband and a family, maybe he could help her rebuild Miss Pru’s. Regain what both women lost: a sense of love, belonging, and worthiness.

He could do that much.

L
ila bounced the keys to the Goodwin store in her hand. Their weight felt good, reassuring. Like she’d put down roots, established herself once again. Although Jake’s rejection the other day still cut deeply, she had to remember: baby steps. Crawling before walking. Walking before running.

She would do this. One painful step at a time. And right now, Miss Pru’s was next.

She couldn’t wait to get inside and get her hands filthy. Re-creating history from nothing more than rusty ceiling tiles and scarred wood gave her a fulfilling sense of accomplishment.

Never mind the soured project in Austin. Or the bad press coverage. Despite the owner’s attempt to sue her for bringing the project in over budget and past deadline—his fault, not hers—the old hotel ranked up there as her favorite restoration.

She suspected Miss Pru’s place would bump the old hotel back a spot. To number two. And she had Jake to thank for a large portion of her success today. Without him, she knew the mayor wouldn’t have budged on his position. Miss Pru’s might even now be reduced to a pile of rubble if Jake hadn’t stepped in and championed her.

They were once again a team, and it felt right. The small success inspired her all the way down to her toes.

Marching purposely up to the front door, she fit the key in the lock. Although she got it in far quicker than Rose the other day, it wouldn’t turn. She jiggled the entire assembly, trying to loosen the tumblers.

Nothing.

She pulled the key out and slid it back in, only more gently this time. Patience and a little TLC did the trick occasionally. She hoped.

It still wouldn’t turn.

“Dammit.”

The hairs on the back of her neck rose in sudden response to an invading body heat. Jake. He’d returned from the store across the street with bottled water.

“You never were mechanically inclined.” His voice rumbled through her, tightening her insides in all the right places. She spun, pulling the key with her. A soft snap sounded.

Jake grinned and his eyes twinkled with humor at her expense. “Well, that presents a problem.”

“How long have you been watching me struggle with this lock? You could’ve offered a hand. It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve missed a good laugh. Don’t get too many of those these days.”

He was interested. Despite all his denials, he stood here, with her, just as she’d asked him. Sharing a joke. That had to count for something.

“Okay, funny guy, figure out how we’re going to get this door open.” She stepped to the side, allowing him access to the old beveled-glass door. From her mechanically challenged assessment, the lock looked hopeless.

His verdict, too. “We’ve got to get a new lock. You don’t have one handy, do you?”

“Oh sure. I carry odds and ends like that in my trunk. You never know when you’re going to break a key off in a nineteenth-century lock.” She gave Jake a you-knew-better-than-to-ask-me-a-silly-question look. “No, I don’t have one, do you?”

He looked off down the street and readjusted the cap on his dark head. His hair, damp and curly, clung close to his rounded scalp. “No.”

“As the new lead on this renovation project, what do you suggest we do?”

He met her fixed stare, his green eyes shadowed in the shade of the veranda. “We go get one.”

Lila nodded and strolled off the sidewalk to the passenger door of his truck. Grabbing the handle, she swung herself up onto the bench seat, only to discover Jake hadn’t moved.

“Well, let’s go,” she said, leaning out the open door, calling over the hood.

His hands rested on his hips, his brows pulled together in exasperation. “Now?”

“You got a better idea?”

Jake adjusted his hat once again and swore under his breath loud enough for her to hear. He dug the truck keys out of his pocket and strode to the driver’s side and climbed in.

“I said I’d come take a look at the place today. I didn’t say I was going to spend the afternoon running around, looking for a lock.”

He never did do spontaneous very well. Too much of a planner. Always looking down the road toward the future. “Oh, don’t be so short-tempered.” She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. She meant the gesture in good fun, a means to keep him in a pleasant mood, but the feel of his muscles under her hand had her lingering, stroking with sensitive fingertips.

She ran her thumb against the hard ridge of muscle along his inner biceps. “If you’re going to do the work, you might as well get used to the idea of taking extra special care with this old building. Its needs might be a little different than what you’ve been used to.”

The diesel engine rumbled to life and Jake’s eyes turned on her, drowning her in emotion.

Her needs were different these days, too. She needed him, wanted him. The good, the bad, and everything in between.

“What are we talking about here, Lila?”

“We’re talking about seeing the project through to the end. Uncovering the strengths and beauty behind the years of neglect and exile.”

He captured her hand with his own. If he’d give her a sign, one tiny indication he still needed her, wanted her, she’d be the happiest woman in Bell County.

Without him, her story was incomplete.

But she wouldn’t beg. Not yet.

He raised the palm of her hand to his lips. They were warm and soft against her skin. She closed her eyes.

“Sometimes it’s better to have the memories than the real thing.”

“Oh, I couldn’t disagree more, Jake.” She purposely misconstrued his meaning and steered the conversation into safer territory, staring out the window to Pru’s place. “This old gal is going to be a beauty once we fix her up.” She reclaimed her hand, pointing through the windshield. “Wait until you see what I have in mind.”

Her mischievous tone won a smile. They were back on solid ground. “And what is that?”

“A day spa.”

“A day spa? What the hell does that mean?” He backed out of the parking space and headed out of the square.

“You know, a day retreat. A place people can go to relax, be pampered, and get a massage.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “In Hannington?”

“What? You don’t think people around here need to relax and get a massage?”

He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “I figured if folks around here wanted that sort of thing, they could go into Austin or Fort Worth.”

“They are both two hours away!” Lila leaned back against the headrest, contemplating Jake’s desire to discourage her. He was doing a bang-up job so far, deflating her enthusiasm.

But not her determination.

The road stretched out before the truck with a dry wind rolling through the tall field grass along the side of the pavement. Lila adjusted a vent, targeting cool air toward her face.

She considered his position of devil’s advocate. For every idea she had, he had a negative. For every step she’d taken forward in Hannington, he tried to push her back another two.

Although he helped her against Howard. And committed to taking on Miss Pru’s.

“Why do you want me to leave Hannington?” She watched his profile and saw an almost imperceptible tightening about his lips.

He lifted his eyes off the road for an instant to meet hers. “A better question is why do you want to stay? This place can’t provide the same opportunities as Dallas.”

“This is my home.” She knew that now. After ten years in the Big D, she realized she’d rather be with those she loved than with the money she made.

Home is where the heart is.

“It hasn’t been for a long time.” His hands grasped the steering wheel.

“So should I be banished from Hannington, never to return? Is that what you want, Jake? Do you want me to go away and never bother you again?”

She turned under her seat belt to study him. “If you can honestly look me in the face and tell me you have no feelings for me anymore and wish me gone, I’ll go. But don’t hide behind the cancer. Don’t push me away out of some skewed sense of honor, self-sacrifice, and responsibility. I’m all grown up now and I can make my own choices about who I love and where I choose to spend my nights.”

The time had come. She’d crossed the line. If he said go, she’d go.

A loud boom filled the cab as he opened his mouth. The truck veered sharply off the road and Jake steered into the curve, guiding the vehicle to a more or less straight line. Lila grabbed the dash, hanging on as they slowed to a crawl.

“What happened?” She could barely hear herself over the blood roaring in her ears.

“Blowout.”

The truck bumped an old timber fence post on the side of the country road and Jake unbuckled, turning toward her.

He pried her belt loose and grabbed her arms, running his hands up over her shoulders. “Are you all right?” His eyes were bright, concern crinkling the tan skin of his face.

“Fine. A little shaken, though.” His hands skidded lower, feathering over her torso to her waist. He massaged the skin of her hip bones where the belt had cut.