Designed for Love (10 page)

Jillian’s smile widened. “I might be able to think of something. So long as you remember who’s the boss.”

Pleasure curled tightly in Wil’s stomach. Jillian’s words should have reminded her that she would always be someone’s underling. From anyone else they would have inspired anger. But somehow the thought of Jillian controlling her in an entirely different way brought a surprisingly strong wave of arousal. Suddenly she was glad Jillian would be gone for a few days, because distance was exactly what she needed.

*

“Wil, it’s almost eight o’clock. How late do you plan to work?”

Wil craned her head to look out from the cabinet under the sink where she was installing the plumbing. Andy stood bent over with a plaintive look on her face but Wil wasn’t swayed. “Until it’s done. Stop whining.”

Andy had already asked three times in the last two hours if they could go home, and she was getting on Wil’s nerves. All of a sudden her crew was averse to a little hard work?

“I’m not whining. You’re a damn slave driver.”

“We’re not getting any closer to done with you just standing around.” Wil scooted out and stood up to face her.

“There’s at least two hours of work left here. Just because you don’t have a life, that doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t have things to do.” Andy planted her hands on her hips, and Wil knew she was bracing for a showdown.

Patti said diplomatically, “We
have
been working late every day. Maybe we could just get a fresh start Monday.”

“Jillian’s going to be back tomorrow and I want this done before then.”

“So we all have to suffer so you can impress a woman you’re never going to make a move on anyway?”

“Andy, hold on,” Tracy began, but Andy cut her off.

“No.” She turned challenging eyes on Wil. “Do you think we don’t see the way you stare at her? Yeah, she’s good-looking. But please don’t make a fool of yourself. She’s leaving in a couple of weeks, and she won’t give this place a second thought.”

“Wait a damn minute. A few weeks ago you were trying to convince me to go after her. But now I’m making a fool of myself?”

“Wil, we just don’t want you to get hurt.” Patti stepped between them and put a hand on her shoulder.

Wil glanced at each of them, seeing sympathy in three pairs of eyes, and realized they’d come to a consensus before this conversation. “So you’ve all been discussing this. Sitting around talking about how pathetic Wil is for chasing some chick that’s out of her league.”

“If anyone thinks she’s out of your league, it’s her,” Andy shot back angrily.

“She’s not like that.”

“She knows she’s hot and thinks you should just fall at her feet and—”

“She’s not like that,” Wil repeated firmly, uncertain if she was trying to convince Andy or herself. She watched Andy’s eyes narrow with comprehension.

“You slept with her.”

“What?”

“Are you crazy?”

Patti and Tracy spoke at the same time, protesting, then fell silent when Wil didn’t argue.

All three women stared at her until Andy broke the silence. “How was it?”

“Amazing,” Wil answered honestly.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now. How long has this been going on?” Andy asked, and Wil knew she was hurt that she hadn’t told her.

“It happened once. Two weeks ago.”

“So what now?”

Wil shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Why not?”

“You said it yourself. She’s leaving in a couple of weeks.”

“But if you—”

“It’s late. Let’s call it a night. In fact, take the rest of the weekend.” Wil made it clear she didn’t want to discuss Jillian further. “Try to keep this to yourself, please, Andy, at least until she leaves.” She wasn’t worried about her own reputation, but she didn’t want to take a chance Jillian might find out people were gossiping about her.

“Don’t worry, Wil. She’ll keep her mouth shut,” Patti assured her, giving Andy a stern look. “Let’s go, girls.”

They quickly packed up and headed for the front door. The last of the three to leave, Patti paused and looked back. “You coming, Wil?”

“Yeah. I’m going to clean up a little, then lock up.”

Patti nodded, then, apparently not fooled, she said, “Don’t work too late.”

When they’d gone, Wil crawled back under the sink. She hadn’t wanted her crew to find out that she’d been with Jillian and hoped one of them wouldn’t slip up and say something in front of Jillian. After she’d finished the plumbing, she installed the faucet.

Despite Patti’s admonishment, Wil worked well into the night. She thought briefly about going down to Rambles Ranch. Friday nights were usually busy, and she could probably find someone to take her mind off Jillian Sealy. But in a moment of honesty she admitted that probably wasn’t going to happen.

Though she knew it was foolish, as if she were a teenager trying to impress a crush, she wanted to present Jillian the finished kitchen when she returned the next afternoon. When she was a teen she’d never had the means or the confidence to impress anyone. An outsider, confused about her own identity, Wil wasn’t sought after by any of the boys in her class. And even if she’d admitted to herself she was attracted to girls, she wouldn’t have been brave enough to act on her feelings.

But after high school, she’d outgrown her concern about anyone else’s opinion. The business was doing well and she’d bought her house. Finally, she began to feel like she had something to offer. And once she’d accepted her homosexuality, she’d discovered that the same qualities that made her unattractive to the boys made the women want her.

Chapter Eight

Jillian stepped out of her BMW and shaded her eyes against the late-afternoon sun hanging low in the sky. Wil sat on the front porch of Mary’s house, elbows resting on her knees. As she popped the trunk, Wil stood. Dressed completely in black, she looked lean, dangerous, and exciting. And though Jillian was exhausted after the nine-hour drive from Ohio, she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather come home to. Except this wasn’t home, and Wil wasn’t hers.

“Welcome back.” Wil joined her next to the car. “Did you have a nice trip?”

“Two days with my entire family,” Jillian answered sarcastically, pulling her suitcase and laptop bag from her trunk. “It was a laugh a minute.”

“Not close to your folks?”

“Actually, I am. But they maintain a level of pretense that can be exhausting.”

Jillian had always known that about her parents, but it had never been so obvious as these past couple of days. When she’d told her mother about her work on Mary’s house, she’d received only a condescending look and a snippy comment about working among rednecks rubbing off on her. Her father hadn’t reacted much better, saying that she should sell the house under market value and get back home. He warned she was wasting her time. But as she thought about how much more relaxed and stress-free life felt there, she didn’t think it was a waste. And she still believed she would make more profit on the house after the work was done. But she’d have to decide soon about whether to continue the renovation.

She’d gone by her condo to check on things and retrieved a voice mail from her former firm’s biggest competitor. The president had called her personally, kissing ass on her answering machine and imploring her to return his call so they could discuss a “mutually beneficial proposal.” She’d let him wait one more day before phoning him back and he’d offered her a top spot at his firm, but he wanted her there next week. She’d asked for two more weeks, claiming she still had matters in her aunt’s estate to wrap up.

Wil picked up Jillian’s suitcase and followed her toward the house. “Do you have any siblings?”

“One brother. He and his wife have four boys.”

“Wow. I’ll bet that’s a handful.”

“They kept hoping for a girl. His wife would give it one more try, if he’d agree. But I think he’s done.”

“I can’t imagine such a big family. It’s just been me and my dad for so long.” Wil held the front door open.

“Do you see your mother often?” Jillian dropped her luggage right inside.

“More than I used to. When she first left, I was angry and didn’t want to have anything to do with her. Plus, Dad needed me. We had a rough time for a while.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m trying to understand that it wasn’t really about us, because we couldn’t make her happy. She had to do that for herself.”

Jillian was curious about how the emotionally injured child Wil described had grown into the strong woman standing before her.

“So you’ve lived here all your life?”

“Born and raised.”

“Have you ever thought about living anyplace else?”

“You mean, anyplace
bigger?
” Defensiveness colored her tone.

“Well, yes.” Jillian refused to apologize for believing there was more out there than this small town could offer.

“I’m not sheltered. I’ve visited other places, but I’ll always come back here. This is home.”

“But there’s so much more to the world than Redmond.” Even after Jillian’s time here, she could only begin to imagine the differences in their childhoods. Certainly, Wil’s father had never taken her to the theater or the symphony. Jillian had grown up being shuttled from ballet lessons to soccer practice by the current nanny. In high school, she’d excelled at academics, but her priority had been making sure she kept up with the latest fashion trends so as not to be outdone by a classmate.

“I have everything I need here.” Wil’s answer was quick, as if she couldn’t miss what she’d never had. She took Jillian’s hand and led her toward the kitchen. “Come see what we did while you were gone.”

What Jillian saw as they stepped in the room far surpassed her vision. The pristine cabinets contrasted beautifully with the dark countertop and tile floor. Natural light washed in through the new, larger window, making the room feel airy and open. The appliances had come in while she was gone, and seeing their sleek exteriors fall in perfectly with the design of the room made Jillian wish she knew how to cook.

“Oh, Wil, it’s perfect.” She squeezed Wil’s hand, not having realized until then that she still held it.

“If kitchens really do sell houses, you shouldn’t have any problem unloading this one.”

“Yeah.” Jillian released Wil’s hand and wandered around the room, touching surfaces and opening drawers. “I guess I’ll go get some things, so at least I can make coffee and a few simple meals.”

“So, peanut butter and jelly, then?” Wil said.

Jillian smiled. “That sounds about right.” She ran a hand along the edge of the sink.

“We still have some minor touches.” Wil watched as Jillian tested the faucet, then when their eyes met, she said, “Yes. It looks good. But I still say you should have stuck with the less expensive ones.”

Jillian raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Can’t just admit I was right, can you?”

Wil shrugged. “It’s your money.” The new faucet complemented the kitchen design perfectly, and Wil might have chosen it herself if it were for her own home. But she wouldn’t tell Jillian that.

“You guys must have worked hard to get all this done.”

“Once we got started, everything went smoothly.”

*

Jillian opened her eyes and the sun slashing through the window sent a blinding pain through her skull. Trying to escape, she rolled over, but her stomach violently protested the sudden movement and a deep throb began in her temple.

“Oh shit,” she muttered. “I cannot be sick.” Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she groped for the cordless phone on the nightstand, then dialed by feel.

She told Rose she wouldn’t be able to make it to Sunday brunch as they’d planned. After disconnecting the phone, she dropped it on the floor beside the bed, drew her knees up to her chest, and concentrated very hard on not moving at all.

She must have fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes, the sun had stretched farther across the bed. Tentatively, she stretched out, then sat up slowly. Her nausea seemed to have lessened and the throbbing behind her eyes had eased, but her sinuses still felt as if they were stuffed with cotton. Maybe a cup of tea would help.

She was on her way to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Flinching at the loud peal, she detoured to the front door, intent on getting there before her visitor felt the need to ring again.

She swung open the door just as Wil reached for the button.

“Don’t touch it,” she said softly, and Wil jerked her arm back. “What are you doing here?” Wil usually gave her crew Sundays off. Through the fog in her head, Jillian tried to recall if she’d mentioned that they would be working today.

She folded her arms over her chest, suddenly conscious of the fact that she had on her most worn pair of flannel pajama pants and a thin T-shirt, and she hadn’t showered since yesterday. Wil, on the other hand, looked great, dressed casually in khaki shorts and a navy V-neck shirt. She carried a paper bag and a large Tupperware bowl.