Fate Intended (The Coulter Men Series Book 3) (5 page)

Her eyes were greeted by a handsome guy with short buzzed hair and shoulders as broad as a broom stick. Jane was about to tell him where he could shove his words when she recognized the eyes.

It was Trip. He came back after all.

Chapter 5

“Trip?” Jane balanced herself on one foot, the other she propped on her toes.

Trip smiled, kneeling down, he touched her ankle, gently pressing into the sinew. He moved carefully down until his thumbs pressed into the sore spot on her foot. Jane yelped and pulled her foot back.

“It’s not your ankle, maybe you stoved your big toe.” He sighed and looked up at her with a frown. “And here I was going to ask you to go dancing.”

Her heart sank. She couldn’t hide her disappointment. What horrific luck! Every day for the last six months, six whole stinking months, she had dressed with absolute care—which was totally unlike her. She put on her make-up and painstakingly did her hair, thinking she’d look pretty when he returned. And what did that get her?

Zero. Zip. Nada.

Now, here she stood. Hair a mess, make-up forgotten, self-inflicted banged up foot throbbing. She came to the only logical conclusion: God hated her. The universe hated her. Nothing in her life was ever fair. Ridiculous tears stung her eyes. Spewing more curses in her native tongue, she jerked her foot out of his hand. She planted it on the ground ignoring the volts of pain that shot up her leg. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stuck her chin in the air. She looked as defiant as an impetuous child.

Trip stood and said with a grin, “I think you’d want to meet my mother before you made such accusations.”

She bit her lip. How the hell did he know Russian? Her cheeks went from warm to burning. She pressed cool hands to her cheeks and groaned. Her goal was to impress him, not curse like a street thug…and look like one too. This was nothing like she imagined his homecoming. She thought she would run to him, throw herself into his arms, and maybe get another one of those kisses. Now she felt as shy around him as the days before the fated dog day. How could she rewind and go back?

“Ah, Janie. I shouldn’t tease you. You’re in pain.”

Before she could think another thought, he scooped her off her feet. He carried her inside the building through the back fire escape that led directly to the laundry and living quarters. Jane gave him directions, though she was feeling more than a bit befuddled by the soap-scented skin. Jane gave him her key and he opened the door. Setting her on the couch, he moved to the kitchen. Through the cut-away he asked, “Where do you keep your pain pills and stuff?”

“Top cupboard, over the sink.” Jane could hear cupboards opening and closing.

Her embarrassment faded. She was too curious about his take-charge demeanor and changed appearance. What happened to the skinny guy who blushed at hello? He was rummaging through her kitchen like its master. She suddenly wished she had done yesterday’s dishes. And she prayed to God he didn’t need to use the bathroom. She had a tendency to pile dirty clothes in the corner until she had nothing left to wear. Now she wished she had listened to Sasha and kept the place picked up.

Her worries were interrupted as he re-appeared with a glass of water, a kitchen towel, a bag of ice, and the pain killers. He handed her the pills and the glass of water with the simple directive, “Take these.” Kneeling once again at her feet, he set about unlacing her tennis shoe. He slid it and her sock off carefully. Jane’s heart flip-flopped, and she nearly choked on her water.

“Sorry. Did that hurt?” His warm brown eyes settled on hers.

Jane shook her head and hugged the glass of water to her chest.

Trip laid the towel over her foot and set the ice on it. He relaxed his body on his heel as he propped her injured foot on his bent knee. His thumb stroked her ankle, his face looked concerned. “Any better?”

“Much.” She prayed she didn’t pass out. Her heart raced every time his thumb moved. She licked parched lips as she studied him. “You look so different…. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Different? Is that different good or different bad?”

She thought a moment. With twenty packed on pounds of pure muscle, a crew cut, and a new look of stern confidence, Trip was no longer cute, but strikingly handsome.

“I’m beginning to think it’s a bad different,” Trip said.

“No. No. Not bad or good. You were handsome before…you are handsome now…different, but same? No? Your glasses?”

Trip smiled. “Gone. Eye surgery was recommended for the job.” His cheeks finally showed a bit of flustered color as he asked, “So, the differences? You disappointed?”

“No! Never,” Jane blurted with a shake of her head.

Trip pulled himself up and sat beside her on the couch. It was so quiet in the apartment Jane could hear the fridge hum and the elevator groan as it moved from floor to floor.

Trip broke the silence. “I apologize for taking so long. I was told three months, but then things...happened.”

“Oh, no worry. I, uh, barely noticed.”

“Really?” Trip sounded disappointed. “Not exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Oh, no. I did miss you, but I meant Eve was no trouble. She was a good puppy…though she’s not much of a puppy anymore.”

“Eve! Where is she?” Trip looked around the tiny apartment.

“She’s out for a walk. Sasha always takes the dogs for a walk in the afternoon.”

“Really? The red-head? She never struck me as a dog person.”

“Sasha is soft as pudding. She just seems cranky.”

“She had me fooled.” Trip grinned. He nodded toward her foot as he asked, “So, since dancing is out, how about dinner? Think you can hobble out to eat? It’s the least I can do after sticking you with my dog for three extra months. I didn’t realize how crazy shi— I mean crap would get.”

“I can go out! And Eve? She wasn’t a problem at all. She was good dog. I will miss her.”

Jane remembered Eve’s photos. “Oh, and I….” Jane stood and hobbled to her “desk” of stacked milk crates and brought back an album. She handed it to Trip. He flipped through the pages, and Jane couldn’t help but watch the muscles in his forearms move under tanned skin with each turn.

“You’re too much, Jane.”

Her eyes rounded as if he knew she was checking him out. He gave her leg a pat as he stopped on a recent picture and sighed. “She’s beautiful. She probably won’t recognize me.” He closed the book and set it on the table. “This was very thoughtful. You know your emails kept me going. I wasn’t able to email back because everything sent out had to be encrypted for security.”

“Security?”

“The company I work for offers protection for some pretty important people, and they get weird about what information is shared.”

“Protection? Like bodyguards?”

Trip shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Oh. Is it safe?”

Trip hesitated before answering, “Sure, sure it is.”

“It doesn’t sound—”

Trip interrupted. “I will say, every time I could access the internet, I’d check my email and there would be a message from you. There were days when I was ready to quit, but you’d keep me going. I could hear you telling me not to give up on a dream.”

Stunned, Jane said nothing. Was she daydreaming again? She looked at Trip, searching his face for some proof she wasn’t putting wishful words in his mouth. Her heart nearly missed a beat when he lowered his head and blushed. She saw it. He
blushed.
That spoke volumes, right?              

She reached out and touched the warmth of his cheek. His fresh stubble was a new and wonderful feeling against her palm. And when he looked up at her, he had that same look as in the garage after he kissed her. She locked her gaze on his. His skin grew warmer to her touch
. Do it,
she willed silently. He moved closer, coming so near she could smell that soapy fragrance, feel the heat their bodies trapped between them…feel his breath against her skin. Eyes fluttered closed…

Then the door slammed. Dogs barked. Trip sat back against the sofa.

“I got a ticket for not cleaning up dog shit.” Sasha waved the ticket in the air. “I thought I left communist country.” She ripped the ticket into tiny pieces and threw them on the kitchen counter. Looking at Trip as she set the dogs free, she asked, “You the owner of the mutt?”

Trip nodded as he sprang from the couch. Sasha released the dogs and stepped into the kitchen to pour a glass of vodka. She lifted her glass in a mock toast. “Yay. You’re back. Didn’t think my day could get any better.”             

Eve retained her adorable puppy look from her floppy ears to her black tipped tail. Big brown eyes made contact with her master and she barreled toward him. Eve barked and whined as Trip scooped her off the floor for a hug. “Damn, she’s grown.” Trip rubbed her ears and spoke to the hyper-whining dog, “Yes you have. You’re a big girl. Did you miss me?” Eve answered with a bark. Sasha rubbed her forehead and grimaced. Jane couldn’t help but laugh. Eve was so happy. The dog-sized pup finally settled into her master’s lap, content to be rubbed as she chewed on his sleeve.

“Sasha,” Jane croaked, then cleared her throat. “This is Trip. Trip, this is….”

“I know who he is, Jane. He’s the guy banging the lawyer on four. Right?” Sasha paused, but not long enough for either Jane or Trip to answer before she continued, “I know the type. I don’t need introduction.”

Sasha grabbed the bottle of vodka, her glass, and went to her room, closing her door with a bang.

Jane blushed. Trip sighed.

“Sasha is just…”

Trip interrupted. “Sasha
was
right. But not anymore. It’s over between Olivia and me.” He took her hand in his. “I would never have asked you out if I was dating her.”

Jane smiled and nodded.

“So, will you still have dinner with me tonight?”

“Of course.” Jane felt the world glow a little brighter. Even her foot felt better.

“Good.” He gave her hand a squeeze and then dropped it. “So, then, I better get Eve home.” At the sound of her name, the dog looked up at her master. “You ready to go home, Eve?” The dog wagged her tail. He kept her tucked in the crook of his arm as he stood and turned to Jane and asked, “I’ll see you about seven?”

“Seven is good.” Jane agreed and then set about gathering Eve’s stuff and hooked her chain to her collar. She handed the leash to Trip, and he set the dog on the floor.

“Say good-bye to Jane, Eve.”

Jane bent down and gave the dog a hug good-bye, then stood to face Trip. Eve pranced and whined, eager to go.

“She missed you. She’s so excited to go.”

Trip grinned as he juggled leash, toys, and food. Jane opened the door for him, and he reminded as he left, “So… tonight?”

“Tonight,” she repeated.

Chapter 6

Jane dressed and redressed for her date. The pile of clothes on her bed grew as each outfit was chosen, judged, and promptly discarded. Sasha sauntered in and sat cross-legged on the pile. Jane felt her presence even though her back was to her as she dug into her closet. Jane wasn’t in the mood for nay-saying so she shot Sasha a warning, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, Sash…”

“What? I am just keeping company.”

“You were a bitch today.”

“
Da.
I s’pose I was not nice.” She mumbled as she pulled a hanger out from under her and tossed it on the floor.

“You suppose?” Jane turned to face her and sputtered like a stubborn child. “You were more than not nice. You were rude. You made him feel unwelcome.”

“He isn’t welcome.” Sasha sighed and leaned back against the wall, stretching her legs out across the bed. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her leather jacket, tapped one free, and lit it, taking a long drag.

Jane’s mouth dropped open, and her head shook. She couldn’t believe Sasha was so…so comfortable with being so mean.

Sasha wriggled out of her jacket and laid it next to her. “Don’t give me that look.” Sasha turned away a moment, then turned her attention back again to Jane. “I am helping you. You are going to get yourself in trouble.”

“Trouble? Why is my having a, uh, friend trouble? And if I want to go out on a date, why is that so bad? You date. You’re not in trouble.”

Sasha sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I am different from you. You are…”

“An adult? I’m not a child.” Jane’s face was red, but she tried to keep her voice low. She didn’t want to fight with Sasha. She knew in her heart that she was only trying to protect her, but still, she had no right. With a shake of her head and a frown on her lips, Jane resumed her closet excavation.

“He
has
a girlfriend,” Sasha reminded her, flicking ashes into a Diet Coke can on the night table.

“Your date has a
wife
,” Jane reminded without turning from her closet.

Sasha sighed. “You willing to be the other woman?”

Jane turned and answered smugly, “I’m not the
other
woman. They broke up. He said so.”

“So, now you have a pissed off ex-girlfriend to deal with. You ready for that?”

“I’m not afraid of her. Poppa taught me—”

“Your father taught you many things, but he’s gone. Your very existence in this country is based on a lie that is no more solid than the phony papers it’s written on.”

Jane yanked a shirt off a hanger and threw the empty plastic against the wall. “Well, then the same could be said for you.”

“No. It couldn’t. I am not stupid enough to think I am
in love
. If things get too serious, I will get out. I’m afraid you won’t be able to see so clearly. You will take chances. You will miss things because your silly heart will make you blind.”

“I can take care of myself. And it’s my own hide on the line, right?” Jane held the shirt in her hand under her chin while looking in the mirror. The yellowish color and Sasha’s ill temper made her skin look sallow. She tossed it on the floor and pulled open a dresser drawer.

“You think?” Sasha grunted. “You think KGB will just come after you? I harbor a fugitive.”

Jane slammed the drawer closed. “Fine! So, when
can
I live my life? When I’m too old to care? Even then I will still be wanted. I might as well turn myself in.” Her eyes stung and her lower lip quivered.

Sasha closed her eyes and said quietly, “Don’t be stupid. And for God’s sake, don’t start crying. I might vomit.” Sasha lit another cigarette from the first. “All right. You can do this, if you promise to get out if I tell you things are trouble. And you must, I mean you must, be discreet. You can
not
be honest with him.” Jane nodded, a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

“Stop looking so, so…eager. I need you to listen to me.”

“I am. I swear.”

“No matter how much you want to be honest, you can’t.”

“Yes. Yes. I know.” Jane sat down by Sasha, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I know what is at stake. And I have been…I will be quiet like a mouse.”

Sasha looked her in the eye and added, “And you know what happens to the mouse when it’s caught in a trap?” Sasha slammed her hands together. Jane winced but added, “I know, it wouldn’t be good. I understand.”

Sasha nodded and gave her an approving smile. “Good. Since you promise to be careful, I promise to be…not so insulting. But keep me posted on everything. You are still a silly girl who needs someone to watch over you.”

Jane jumped up from the bed. She was free! Jane thanked Sasha for understanding. Sasha grunted and puffed a few smoke rings toward the ceiling. Jane had a crazy notion of giving her a hug, but decided she’d pushed Sasha enough for one day. Instead she asked, “So, what do you think I should wear tonight?”

Jane was dressed and ready to go forty-five minutes before her date, but at t-minus twenty, she had cold feet about her outfit and ducked back into her closet for another quick change. Then another. And yet another. She was still examining herself in her full length mirror when she heard the knock on the door. Sasha opened it, ushering Trip in with a wave of her vodka glass.

Trip stood near the door, quietly shifting from one foot to the other. When Jane emerged, his smile was broad and glowing. Jane wasn’t certain if he was glad to see her or glad to be saved from Sasha. Either way, she was just pleased he looked so radiant. Her final outfit change was into a pair of dark denim pants that sat low on her tiny waist topped with a red silk camisole. She added a black velvet jacket and gold hoop earrings. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy twist at the nape of her neck.

Jane breathed a sigh of relief that she had taken the time to change out of her appropriate- for-burgers-and-fries outfit and into something a wee bit dressier. Trip wore a suit jacket and khakis. He handed her a small bouquet of flowers and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. Jane hugged the flowers to her chest and inhaled their sweet scent, though truly the strongest scent was the tissue paper they were wrapped in, but to Jane they were the sweetest smelling flowers her nose ever encountered.

Sasha shook her head and drained her glass with a grimace. Jane hesitated between taking her flowers to the kitchen and staying by Trip’s side. She took a stutter step, then stopped and looked back at Trip. Sasha sighed and held out her hand. “Give them to me. I can put them into water.” Sasha yanked the flowers from Jane’s hands plucking out a white rose as she walked into the kitchen. She stuffed the flower down the garbage disposal and ground it to nothing. She made a sign of the cross before dropping the remaining flowers in a tall glass, holding them up to Jane as if to prove they were safe. She then turned back into the kitchen, banging cupboard doors and cursing.

Jane grabbed Trip by the hand and whisked him out the door. He looked over his shoulder as if he expected Sasha to appear with a butcher knife and chop him to bits and pieces. Jane bit her lip and explained. “Sasha believes it is bad luck to have even number of flowers. She is very superstitious. She doesn’t believe in God, but still, she fears Him.” Jane’s laugh was a little nervous.

“Someone told me once not to shake hands over the threshold, or to put my feet on the table in Russia. The flower one is new to me.” He pushed the elevator call button.

“It is no big deal. Sasha is just…Sasha.” The elevator doors opened. They stepped in among the people and were silent as they rode it to the parking garage. As they walked to the car, Jane changed the topic. “So, where are we going?”

“I, well, umm. I made reservations at the Evergreen.”

“I have never been there. Have you?”

“No, I never have. To be honest, a friend of mine made the reservation,” he said as he unlocked the car door.

Jane waited until he slipped into his seat before she asked, “A friend? So, you were busy?”

Trip started the car and as he backed out and headed on their way. He admitted with a flush, “No. Nothing like that. I just wanted to pick the right place, and my friend has better taste than I do. I mean I probably would have taken you to McDonald’s.”

Jane laughed, her head tipped back against the leather seat. “McDonald’s? That was my first thought, so I threw on jeans and a sweater, then I got this feeling of…I don’t know, scaredness, that you would be planning something else so I hurried up and changed.”

“Well, you look…beautiful.” Trip gripped the steering wheel and glanced nervously her way.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks turned scarlet and her heart raced. She wished she was more like Sasha. Sasha would have accepted the compliment with finesse. She was quiet a few moments until her nerves finally settled. “You know, Trip, McDonald’s would have been fine by me. I mean, you didn’t have to do anything special.”

As Trip slowed the car to a stop at a red light, his voice held a bit of a nervous croak, “Yes, it did have to be special.”

She smiled at him and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Trip pulled the car into the valet parking, handed off the keys, and then hurried to Jane’s side as she stepped out of the car.

The restaurant was in the east wing of a hotel built before the Civil War. The high domed ceilings were washed in baby blue with gilded ornamental moldings and high arched doorways. The red carpet under foot was thick and luxuriant. From the winding stairwell to the hand-carved crown molding and cherub statues, the place had the look and feel of history. She imagined women swishing past in hoop skirts and corsets as she craned her neck from left to right to take in all the oil paintings of the capital before it was a metro area.

Trip led her to the dining room with a satisfied smile on his face. “You like?”

“I love. I can feel the history. I like reading about history and how it explains the culture. Like Russians: Russians are tough because for years and years they have had a history that promises them hardship and minimum. But Russians also know they will endure. The homeland has been scarred by war, by dictators, and by communism. They survived it all. There is a strength that comes from hardship…. And may also explain why Russians think Americans are soft.”

“That explain Sasha’s hostility?”

She laughed. “She’s not even Russian. She is from Chechnya. My father, um, adopted her. But yes. She has a, um, distaste not just for Americans, but for most people.”

“And you?”

“Certainly not. I am thrilled by the idea of getting a good life. Of not living a hard, roundabout life.”

“Roundabout?”

“Yes.” Jane nodded. “In Russia, the best way to get things done is round about. Like college. You can go to college for free, if you are smart enough or if you have enough money and connections to go round the rules. It’s round about. If you have no money, no connections, no high scores? Then no college. In America, that is different.”

“But not for Sasha?”

She shook her head. “No. She still lives round about.” Jane thought of her rich “date” and sighed. “Sasha knows how to survive. She doesn’t know how to dream.”

Trip opened his mouth, but closed it as the maitre d’ asked for their reservation name, then escorted them to their table. Trip pulled Jane’s seat out for her, and she sat, her smiling face tipped to his. Then she gasped as she turned her attention to the menu.

“Trip, this is too much.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“All for watching a dog?”

“Not just for the dog. But also because,” he said as he unfurled his napkin. He stared down at the white linen, and continued with just a bit of sweat breaking out on his brow, “I wanted to impress you.”

“Really? “ Jane toyed with her silverware. “How do you know? I mean, how do you know I am even worth impressing?”

“Because I do.” Trip looked up at her and relaxed as he looked into her eyes. They were a liquid blue, the color of the deepest sea. They seemed to sparkle when she teased like sun reflecting on water. He leaned across the table. “As a matter of fact, I remember the first time I ever saw you.”

“When would that be?” Jane couldn’t hide her pleasure. Her smile was relentless, her heart beat with such anticipation and hope that she thought she might burst into a happy dance right where she sat and scare the absolute hell out of him. She adopted a look of calm, hands pressed together, bottom firmly glued to her chair.

“The first time I came into your building you were on the elevator talking to Mr. Little. He was telling you one of his many WWII stories…which, I must point out, was so full of holes if it was a ship it would sink like a rock.” Trip’s head shook as his hands went palm up. “I mean the guy was storming the beaches of Normandy and being held captive in the Pacific. I wondered if you knew he was full of crap. Then you looked up at me and gave me a grin and the tiniest wink. I thought, she knows he’s full of it, but is kind enough to play along.”

“It was
quite
a story.” Jane shrugged. “An elderly man’s fantasy. An attempt to be….” Jane thought a moment, “Relevant?”

“I figured.” Trip smiled at her. “It’s sweet that you even take the time to listen to him. You’re good people, Jane. As my Grams would say, ‘Beautiful inside and out.’”