His Best Friend's Baby (15 page)

“I want to work with plants,” she confessed. “Landscape or horticulture or something.” She waved a hand as if to say, “it’s no big deal.”

“You know Holmes Landscaping—”

“I applied. They’re not hiring.” She looked away, embarrassed by wanting something she couldn’t get.

Worth
. She reminded herself.
You are worth
more than that job. It’s their loss
.

“Mitch never mentioned that,” Jesse said.

“He didn’t know.”

She met his eyes and suddenly him knowing her aspiration was more intimate than then kiss in the kitchen.

“Mitch talked about you all the time, too,” she said, changing the subject in a rush. “Same thing, though. Didn’t know what was real.”

“Well—” he scowled and searched through the clutter on the bench “—I never went to jail and I never beat up a kid for his shoes and—”

“Until I met you,” she interrupted his tirade. “The second you stepped into my house in Germany I felt like I knew what was real and what wasn’t.”

He stood still, his hands hovering over the workbench, as though waiting for something.

“I knew you were smart, but didn’t do so well in school. I knew you were a good athlete. I knew you liked books and music. I knew you never lied.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I knew you were one of the good guys, no matter what Mitch said.”

Jesse stared at her and somehow she knew he needed to hear this, he needed to be stroked and patted. His ego was as battered as hers, she could see it in his eyes. “I feel like I’ve known you all my life, Jesse. Doesn’t that sound crazy?”

“No,” he murmured. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

He cocked his head and watched her. The air suddenly changed. Became electric, dangerous. The core of Julia’s body, simmering for days now, erupted and she felt her face flush.

“What are you doing here, Julia?”

“I…ah…was just out for a walk,” she muttered. She was proud of herself for meeting his eyes. For not looking away despite the intensity between them and the lack of oxygen in the room.

“You do a lot of walking.” He put the pencil and tape measure down and took a step closer to her. She tilted her head back wondering, thrilled and scared, what he was going to do. “And you always end up at my door.”

His thigh butted her knee and she let her legs fall open. Her foot went to the ground and Jesse moved in until she could feel the heat of him between her legs, down the front of her body.

She swallowed audibly. His hand touched her face, skimmed her hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes branding every inch of her face.

“I’m plain,” she said and then wished she could just gag herself for the next hour or so.

Jesse just shook his head. “Not to me.” His other hand came up and cupped her throat. She
swallowed again, her head, so heavy, tilted back at an awkward angle, but she didn’t care as long as he kept touching her. “I’ve thought about you every day since Germany.”

I must be dreaming
, she thought.
Or I’ve
stumbled down a rabbit hole
.

It was as though this terrible, wonderful moment had been plucked from her dreams.

“I thought of you,” she whispered. It was all she allowed herself to admit. She couldn’t begin to tell him the hole his brief presence in and subsequent absence from her life had made. And how every day she gazed into that hole and wondered if she’d see him again.

He bent, she stretched and their lips touched. A kiss. Soft, sweet, fleeting and then gone.

Her eyes fluttered open only to see him staring down at her with an expression she couldn’t discern.

“What are you thinking?” she asked after the silence had expanded too much and he seemed content to just watch her.

“Dangerous question.” He seemed so solemn. Serious. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her that made him so sad.

His hands touched her face one more time and her eyelids fluttered shut. His fingertips
skimmed her eyelashes, her cheekbones, her earlobes. He touched her lips and they parted on a gasp. She felt alive, electric, in every sense. Every cell and fiber of her body was trained on him. Focused with a sexual intensity she’d never known existed. She was so attuned to him, she hurt. She ached where his hands didn’t touch her. She burned where his breath didn’t reach.

And then suddenly he was gone.

Her eyes flew open and that, too, hurt.

He put up a hand as if warding her off. “That kiss was for me. Something I’ve wanted for years, but we need to talk. Not about Mitch or meat loaf but about—” he waved a hand between them “—this.”

“Okay.” She shook her head. “We can talk.”

“I’m not staying here,” he said and the words barely made a dent in her desire. “I’m leaving soon.”

“How soon?”

“A week, two at the most.” The solemnity in his eyes drilled through her. “I want you. That’s not a secret anymore.”

She stood. “I want you, too, Jesse.”

“But I’m leaving. I can’t stay and anything…” He paused, took a deep breath. “Anything
between us—anything sexual—would just complicate things.”

“When have things ever been easy?” she asked and stepped toward him.

“Probably never, since you seem bent on pushing the issue,” he snapped. He took a step back. “I already feel responsible for you being here, for Mitch.”

“Don’t,” she said firmly.

He blew out a big breath. “I wish you saying that could change it, but it doesn’t. Nothing can happen between us. This is the right thing to do.”

“Nothing? How can that be right?”
How can
that be right when I am burning alive?

He grabbed her arms when she was within reach and held her away from him. “You wanted friendship. We can be friends, but that’s all. That’s it. I can’t deal with any more.”

“You just kissed me,” she reminded him, exasperated.

“I know. And it won’t happen again.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t want you here. I didn’t want this house. My sister, this wood, I didn’t want any of it and suddenly I can’t get rid of you. You’re Mitch’s widow. You’re living with his parents. You have his son. You’re putting down roots here and I am leaving. You said you
were trying to move on and trust me, falling into bed with Mitch’s best friend is not moving on. For either of us. I can’t stay and I don’t want to.”

Well
, she thought, removing herself from his hands,
when you say it that way…

Silence filled the room like cotton bunting. She brushed back her hair and looked at him, ready to take him at his word. He was right. She was trying to get her life on track and so was he. Anything between them would put them off course.

“I just can’t be responsible for everything.” He sighed.

“I never asked you to.”

He ignored her. Grabbed a tape measure and put a pencil between his teeth, as if she’d never spoken. How could she convince him that she didn’t blame him for anything? He’d never listen. Not now.

Not yet, but maybe he eventually would if they really were friends. Maybe in time, she could convince him that Mitch was no longer between them.

“Friends?” she asked, skeptical. “For real? You’re not going to go all freaky on me next time I come over.”

He watched her, removed the pencil. “You’re not the same woman I met in Germany.”

“You’re right.” She grinned. “I am different.”

“The woman you are now would have scared the hell out of Mitch.”

“And you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Clearly I scare the hell out of you, too.”

“You don’t know that half of it.” He turned to his wood and his shoulders slumped with a sigh. “I’m terrified.”

This wasn’t what she wanted, or what she expected. But it was good to stand in this room with his chuckle echoing around the battered walls. She was working in small degrees of better. She was the merchant in the smallest amounts possible of happiness and satisfaction. She added another kernel to her meager stockpile.

“You want some help?”

“Sure. Hold this.”

He gave her the end of a tape measure.

She nodded, though it hurt, but something was better than nothing. “Okay.”

A
MANDA RACED
to the phone when it rang.

“Got it!” she yelled so no one would interrupt and hear her talking to Caleb Gomez. Oh, man. That would be bad. She’d called the San Diego Naval Hospital two days ago, leaving a message for him to call back today. Right now.

She wanted to talk to Caleb Gomez for two reasons. One, her mother refused to, thinking that Caleb only wanted to write a story about what happened. But what if Caleb wanted to thank Jesse for saving his life? Wouldn’t that help him? Wouldn’t that make him feel better?

Two…well, was her English paper. It was already too late, school got out three days ago and she’d turned in that stupid essay on government spending for social work. But she still wanted to write an article about her uncle, and maybe Caleb, for her summer internship at the newspaper.

She grabbed the receiver in the kitchen and quickly snuck into the crawl space under the stairs. All the buttons glowed green in the darkness. She hit the talk button.

“Hello,” she whispered and then realizing she’d whispered she practically yelled, “Hello.”

This is not the way a journalist works. Even
a teenage one
.

“I’m looking for Amanda Edwards.” The guy on the other end of the phone had a slight Hispanic accent and Amanda’s eyes shut in relief.

Jackpot!

“This is her. She. Her.”
Oh, brother
. “You’re talking to her.”

Caleb Gomez’s laugh was deep and kind of nice. “Hi, Amanda. I understand you have some information about Jesse Filmore.”

“Maybe.” She’d thought about this part. She wasn’t going to blow this. “But before I tell you anything I have a few questions for you.”

There was a long pause. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” Almost.

“Well, you’re either thinking about a career in journalism, politics or extortion.”

“What’s extortion?”

“Good for you, kid, ask me your questions.”

“First, are you planning on writing a story on my…on Jesse Filmore.”

“Yes.”

Her lips twisted. “Hmm.” Not the best answer. She didn’t want to see Jesse hurt any more and she just knew a news story would kill him.

“I think my readers would be interested in how Jesse did everything, including risk his own life, in order to save me.”

That was better. Much better. Points to Caleb.

“Do you think he caused that crash? I mean, do you think he killed all those guys?”

Caleb sighed. “I know it’s hard to believe otherwise when it’s been speculated about all over the news.”

“Tell me about it,” she groused.

“But I have some information and I think it’s important I talk to Jesse before I write about it. I’ll be able to sit in a car in a few days and I want to see him.”

“You know how the crash happened?”

“Amanda, let me give you a lesson in journalism. A journalist never tells anyone what he does or doesn’t have in terms of information.”

“Makes sense,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.

“All right, Caleb Gomez. I do have some information for you.” She gave him Jesse’s address and cell phone number.

“Wait,” Caleb said when they were about to hang up. “How is he? Jesse? Is he okay?”

She thought of his wrecked face and his bloody nose and the dead look in his eyes and the way he couldn’t even be in the same room as Julia.

“Caleb. I think the sooner you get here, the better.”

“I
SHOULD BE BACK BY NOON
,” Julia said for the third time. It was Saturday, her first morning of work and her first morning of Agnes Adams’s daycare, which made Julia feel a little twitchy. She kept remembering the story Jesse had told her about Mitch and the test and being kept awake for two days. And the stories he’d told her in the days since then.

She didn’t want Agnes to have that kind of influence over Ben, to harm him in the million ways she’d hurt Mitch.

Julia looked at her sweet little boy, who was covered in Cheerios and sliced bananas.

“Of course, it’s fine.” Agnes’s voice was cold but the hand that stroked Ben’s head was tender
and the glances she saved for Ben were as sweet and grandmotherly as Julia could ever dream. “I am his grandmother after all.”

As long as she only hates
me, she thought, tucking her uniform apron into her purse.
As
long as she never takes it out on Ben
. “All right then.” She looked around to see if she was missing anything and, of course, wasn’t, since she didn’t have anything. “I’ll see you in five hours.”

She kissed her son, thought for a second of saying something that would kill the tension between her and Agnes, but in the end stayed silent. She always bent. She always gave in, took the high road. She wasn’t going to do it anymore.

She put her hand to the door and was nearly out it, before Agnes stopped her.

“Julia?”

“Yes.” She paused.

“I’m sorry,” Agnes said and Julia turned. “I am sorry for the things I said the other day.”

Julia nodded, stunned. “Me, too.”

She stepped out into the cool California morning and shut the door behind her.

She wanted to believe that Agnes was sincere, that she was truly regretful for the spiteful things she’d said, but Julia didn’t believe it for a minute.

The apology had seemed mechanical, manipulative, as insincere as Julia’s own.

The situation between them never going to get better.

T
HE WORK WAS PREDICTABLE
. Familiar. Lots of coffee. Extra gravy. Seasoned waitresses who took their smoking breaks seriously and loved to talk at the coffee machines. Julia had forgotten how the slow times at restaurants created plenty of room for nearly instant camaraderie. Nothing to do but roll silverware and chat.

It wasn’t even an hour into her shift and she knew all about Lynn’s youngest son’s problems at school. And that Jodi’s ex-husband was getting married in a few weeks.

“It’s killing me,” Jodi whispered, pulling her ponytail tighter. “I dumped him and he’s getting remarried before I’ve even had a steady boyfriend.”

“You got to stop acting so desperate when we go out,” Nell, another one of the waitresses, said without looking up from her crossword puzzle. “Hey,” she said, turning to Julia. “You should come out with us next weekend.”

“Ah…” Julia laughed. “I have a baby—”

“Don’t we all, sweetie.” Nell sighed. “Get
yourself a sitter and kick up your heels. You look like you need it.”

I do need it
.

“Thanks.” She smiled at the three women and kept rolling silverware into napkins. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Someone just sat in your section,” Lynn said. “And I tell you what—” she whistled “—if you don’t hurry, I’m going to steal that seat. That is one good-looking man sitting there.”

All three women stood up on their tiptoes to look over the huge bank of coffee machines. Julia found herself on her toes, joining them.

It was Jesse, sitting with his back to the women. But she’d know him anywhere.

“Well, well. Something tells me this isn’t an accident,” Nell teased good-naturedly, watching Julia as she blushed.

“That’s Jesse Filmore,” Jodi said. “You know him?”

Julia nodded, unwilling to go into all the details.

“Oh, man.” Jodi sighed. “I had the biggest crush on him in high school. He was so tough, you know, and quiet.”

“The strong silent types always get you in
trouble,” Lynn murmured and bent back to her crossword.

“Amen,” Jodi agreed. They all started talking about where they were going to go out next weekend and that was the end of the Jesse conversation.

Julia wondered if the hatred Jesse felt for this town wasn’t all in his head.

She touched a nervous hand to her hair and headed out to see what Jesse wanted.

“Hi,” she said as she stood at the end of his booth. His shirt was red and his eyes were bright and she wished she could slide into that booth with him.

“Morning,” he said with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as her heart tripped and hammered in her chest. Just the sight of him, the look of him, made her knees weak.

“Craving for meat loaf.” He tapped the menu.

“For breakfast?”

“Cravings are cravings, Julia. Why fight it?” He smiled again, but then seemed to realize what he’d said. All the things they were fighting exploded around them.

“I, ah…I knew it was your first day. Thought I’d come in. As a friend,” he said, denying her
the sweet memory of his heated kisses in his kitchen and the tender press of his lips to hers in his garage.

“Sure,” she finally managed to say. “I mean, right. Friends. You want a meat loaf?” She scribbled nonsense on her pad, sure her hair was on fire she was blushing so much.

“That’ll be great.”

“Potatoes?”

“Mashed. Thanks, Julia.”

“Well, it’s my job,” she said in an attempt to make herself feel better, and less like a fool. She walked away before she did any more damage.

“Ordering,” she hollered back to the guys in the kitchen as she put her guest slip on the circular ticket holder in the window between the servers’ station and the kitchen.

“Got it!” one of the men back there yelled.

She turned around to see Nell, Jodie and Lynn all grinning at her.

“Now I know why you don’t want to go out with us.” Jodi laughed. “It’s got nothing to do with your baby.”

They pressed her for details about Jesse, but she held them off, the whole time secretly pleased that anyone would even care.

The next few days chugged along in a steady
rhythm and Julia’s confidence slowly grew. Agnes and Ron weren’t crowding her and seemed to have come to some kind of understanding about her having a job.

And Jesse. Jesse came by the restaurant regularly for meat loaf. When it was slow she sat down with him and had a cup of tea. It was torture, sitting across from him with her hands clenched against the need to stroke his arms, his lips and eyebrows. It hurt to pretend that her feelings had mellowed into friendship when every moment spent with him only sharpened them. As his defenses dropped and his smiles came with more frequency, she knew deep in her bones that she was falling more in love with him every second.

“I never really liked San Diego,” she said one morning when they were talking about the city he planned to move to.

“No? Could you pass me the ketchup?”

She slid the ketchup across the table to him and she made sure their fingers brushed in the exchange. There was a spark and a sudden heat and she blushed and he frowned.

“It’s so crowded.” She pulled her hand away and spun her mug of tea, hoping her opinions might change his mind. “And expensive. You’ll
be totally shocked by the cost of rent. You’ll be living in some student’s closet for about a million dollars a month.”

“So where would you go?” he asked. “Of all the places you’ve lived, where did you like the best?” He took a big bite of meat loaf and Julia considered the question while he ate. He asked a lot of this sort of question, forcing her to think about her life and her wants in a way she never had. With all of her answers she felt as though she gave away pieces of herself to take with him when he left.

“I liked it in Hawaii.” She smiled and he returned it, his mouth closed. “But you know—” somehow this feeling had snuck up on her the past few days “—I really like it here.”

“New Springs?” He choked and put his fork down. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” She shrugged away his horror at the idea. “I like small towns and I like the heat and desert…well, I like the plants.”

But it was more than that. This was the first town she’d picked on her own. The first place where she’d started to create what she needed out of what she had and it was working.

“Well, I suppose if you never have to talk to anyone—”

“I really like the people,” she interrupted and looked directly at him. She dreamed at night of being able to stop him from moving, of being able to keep him here, but that would never happen if he thought the whole town hated him. “They’re not as bad as you think, Jesse. And I don’t think people even remember all the stuff you did.”

“They remember, trust me.” His expression shut down, his shoulders hunched and Julia dropped the subject.

“Jodi, the redhead—” Julia nodded her head toward the bank of coffee machines, where the girls were spying on them “—has a crush on you.” He lifted his eyebrows and kept chewing. “She has since high school.”

“Get out.” He turned again toward the coffee machines and wiggled his eyebrows like a horny Groucho Marx. Julia laughed and their conversation drifted to the trivial as their favorite foods, movie star crushes and the best driving songs.

He avoided touching her and she went out of her way to make sure their fingers brushed. They never talked about Mitch or how they felt, or the desire that breathed like a dragon whenever they were close to each other.

Julia mourned every second that led them nearer to the time he would leave her. But she couldn’t ask him to stop visiting her at work. She couldn’t turn him away, no matter how hard it was going to be when he left.

“T
AKE MY TABLE
that just sat down, would you?” Nell asked on Julia’s fourth day at work. “If I have to wait on Virginia Holmes one more time I swear I’m gonna dump that pot of tea in her lap.”

“Virginia Holmes?” Julia asked, peeking over the coffeepots.

“In the flesh. Good luck.” Nell walked off with a tray of oversize sodas for the truckers at the counter.

Julia mustered all of her courage and approached the cantankerous woman who’d inadvertently put her life plan in reverse.

“Good morning, welcome to Petro. Can I get you something to drink?” She tried to look all business with her pen poised over her pad, tried to wipe all recognition from her eyes, but there were Virginia and Sue Holmes staring at her like fish left out of water.

“I thought you’d left town or something.” Virginia’s white bushy eyebrows met over her
eyes. She turned to her daughter. “Didn’t you say you called her?”