Home Sweet Home (A Southern Comfort Novel) (12 page)

Grace waited three days to call Jake back.

She didn’t do it on purpose, not really. When she got his message on Sunday night, her immediate reaction was to call him back, see if he might like to come over. But that would be too much too soon, so she waited. She realized she might be playing games, but she justified the delay by telling herself that she was just setting boundaries, establishing that their relationship, such as it was, would not be a see-each-other-every-day kind of thing. It would be . . . casual.

Not that she didn’t think about him those days that she didn’t call. But she was busy. Genuinely busy, and Jake on the brain did not help. Reading student journal entries for her intro class took enough concentration, so it didn’t help that every time someone split an infinitive, her mind would wander. To Jake. And his hands. And his shoulders. And his abs.

And his smile.

That was what did her in. It was Wednesday and she was working from her home office. (Which featured wallpaper hung by Jake . . . she tried not to think about that.) She loved working here in the afternoon. The sun filtered through the bamboo blinds—they didn’t really go with the room, but they were leftover from the previous owner and Grace was kind of renovated-out—creating stripes and swirls on the wood floor. Mr. Bingley loved it too. He spent so much time in the sunny spot in the turret that she put a throw pillow in there for him. It was the best she could do, decoration-wise. And she couldn’t blame Mr. Bingley for lounging there. Just last week, she was having trouble focusing on an abstract for an article she was finishing up, so she just lay down on the floor and let the sun soak into her bones. It was nice. And it worked, although she had a hard time getting out of the sun to go back to writing. She had wanted to lie there all day, basking and stretching and napping on her floor, with occasional interruptions from Mr. Bingley, who joined her in the sun.

She was glad Jake didn’t have a key. She didn’t need him walking in on that.

And there he was again. She looked at the pile of journals—almost halfway done. If she called Jake, she could get her fix and then concentrate. Or maybe they could schedule something for later that would act as an incentive to get things done.

And now she was the kind of woman who lay on the floor with her cat and scheduled her love life.

Not love. Her like life.

Her sex life.

Before she could talk herself out of it—and she was trying—she had dialed Jake’s number. He picked up with a distracted “Hello?”

“Jake? Are you driving?”

She heard him curse under his breath. Well, not quite under his breath. She could tell she was on speakerphone. “Hey, Grace.”

“Sorry, do you want to call me later?”

“No, it’s fine.”

She paused, trying to puzzle out his tone. “Jake, are you mad at me?”

He sighed. “No. I’m annoyed with myself.”

“Why?” It was nice to hear Jake got on his own nerves sometimes, too.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t pick up when you called.”

“Oh.” She nervously tapped her pen on the pile of unread journals. She had waited too long. Ugh, this
was
a game. “Do you want me to hang up?”

“No.”

“Do you want to hang up on me?”

He laughed. Grace let out a breath. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she said, tapping away at the infinitive-splitting undergraduate homework. “Just grading papers.”

“Already? Isn’t it, like, the second week of school?”

Grace shrugged, which, of course, Jake did not see. “Not big papers, just reading journals. Mostly to make sure they do the reading.”

“Do they?”

“Most of them. I can usually tell if they just read the plot summary. Or if they’re really in tune with the themes, especially early in the book. That’s usually a sign that they got their ideas somewhere else.”

“Grace Williams, Literature Detective.”

She laughed. “Kind of. Actually, that’s pretty good motivation to keep working.”

“Is that why you called? For motivation?”

“No, I just . . .” Why was she suddenly shy? The man had seen her naked, for heaven’s sake. And not just
seen
her naked. They, like, did stuff.

“Grace?”

“Just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out. Maybe come over and watch a movie. I’m making frozen pizza for dinner.”

“Sounds tempting,” he said, sarcastically. “The pizza, I mean. I mean the pizza doesn’t sound tempting, but the hanging out does.” He made a short, dismissive sound. Was he shy, too?

“Great, I have some more grading to finish up—”

“Well, I don’t know if I can. I’m on my way back from a job.”

Oh, a job. That was good. She knew he did something in construction, but Grace hadn’t heard of him working since she’d met him. It was good for him to have a job.

“Okay, well . . .”

“I have to see what time it is when I get back.”

“Okay.”

“I just don’t know right now.”

“Okay, Jake. It’s fine. Just, you know, if you can. No big deal.”

“Okay. See you later. You know, if I don’t see you tonight.”

“Which is also later,” she reminded him.

“Yeah. So see you later no matter what.”

She laughed softly and said good-bye. She didn’t really want to hang out with him. She had work to do, and she didn’t want to start something with Jake. She had a feeling he’d be trouble, and not just in the stuff-falls-apart-when-he’s-around way. Because stuff fell apart when he wasn’t around. More in a he’ll-break-your-heart kind of way. But that was fine, because she wasn’t about to give her heart. Not to Jake, not to anyone.

J
ake knocked on her door just after sunset. He’d gotten home, taken a shower, and was going to see if there was a game on. Then Mary Beth came up and told him Todd was making eggplant parm if he wanted some, which he did, but sitting down to dinner with his sister and her husband when he’d told Grace that he might come over didn’t seem very nice. Of course, she’d waited three days to call him, which also wasn’t very nice. But as his mother often reminded him, two wrongs didn’t make a right. So he skipped dinner, forgoing the to-go box offer from Todd because he didn’t want them to ask questions when he asked for two helpings, and because he was annoyed that Grace had waited so long to call, so she didn’t deserve Todd’s eggplant parm. Which meant he wouldn’t get any either, but Jake was pretty sure there’d be enough left over for breakfast tomorrow.

Logic firmly in place and pizza box in hand, he knocked on Grace’s door. She pulled the curtain aside, then opened the door with a surprised look on her face.

“Jake! And pizza!”

She was wearing the little pink dress that she’d worn to the Fourth of July barbecue, the one that was just a bit too short. Her feet were bare and her face looked freshly scrubbed. She had her hair pulled back in that messy ponytail of hers. It was barely dark and she looked like she was ready for bed.

Jake congratulated himself on his timing.

“Better than frozen,” he said, and let her take the box from him as he stepped inside.

“Have a seat,” she said, indicating the couch. She put the pizza on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. Jake followed her.

She was reaching up in the cabinet to get plates as he swung through the door. Stretched up like that, he could see the muscles in her calves and her dress was inching up even higher and he had never had less of a taste for Todd’s eggplant parm.

“Let me,” he said, coming up behind her. And if he crowded her a little so that when she came down off her toes her back ended up flush against his front, well, he was just trying to be a gentleman. And if he leaned in to nuzzle her neck, it was just to let her know that he wasn’t mad at her anymore for not calling.

“You smell good,” he said, because she did. Like vanilla. Like dessert.

“I just took a bath,” she said, tilting her head to the side so he could find out whether she tasted as good as she smelled. The thought of her in that big claw-foot tub, wearing nothing but bubble bath, made him forgive her even more for not calling.

“Jake,” she whispered as his lips trailed over her neck. He didn’t know if that meant to stop or to keep going, but she moved easily when he turned her around so they were front-to-front, and she opened her mouth for him when he kissed her, and she let out a
whoosh
of breath when he wrapped his arms tight around her waist. Then she pulled back, just a fraction, just enough that their lips were separated, and looked into his eyes.

“Hi,” he said, because he had no idea what that look meant.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. He leaned in to kiss her again, and this time she kissed him back, hard, wrapping her arms around his neck and snaking her hands through his hair. He was about ready to lift her up and see how sturdy that kitchen counter was, when he heard a low growling sound.

She pulled back abruptly and immediately started that full-body blush he liked so well.

“Sorry,” she said, backing up enough to put a hand on her stomach. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Got sort of carried away with grading.”

“Engaging stuff?”

“Hardly. But after we talked, I got into Grace Williams, Literature Detective mode, and the time kind of flew by.”

He liked that he made her work easier. He didn’t like that she was too hungry to make out, but there would be time for that after pizza.

He stepped back and picked up the plates while she turned the oven off and threw her unthawed pizza back into the freezer. She grabbed a roll of paper towels and followed him into the living room. He liked that she was no-nonsense about her pizza. He was, too. Although he probably wouldn’t have even bothered with plates.

She shooed Mr. Bingley off the couch and sat down next to him, their thighs touching. He wanted to run his hand over her leg, lift up that little pink dress and see if she was wearing more cute underwear, but she tucked her legs up underneath her, away from him, so he turned his attention to the pizza.

“I hope pepperoni’s okay.”

She inhaled deeply as he opened the box, her eyes closed in pleasure. Pepperoni seemed okay.

“What are you watching?” he asked. There were a bunch of white people in long dresses talking quietly on the TV screen.

She looked up nervously from her first bite of pizza. “We can change it.”

“Why? Is it porn or something?”

“No!”

“Too bad.”

“It’s
Pride and Prejudice
.”

“Ah. Smart people porn.”

“There’s a TV marathon on. I couldn’t resist.”

“Haven’t you seen it before?” He was pretty sure he’d seen it before. Mary Beth was more than a little obsessed.

“Yes, about a million times. So we can watch something else if you want to.”

“No, this is good.” Jake figured if they watched something that she’d already seen, she wouldn’t mind if they stopped watching it. For sex.

It was a long movie. Grace had enough time to eat four pieces of pizza, which turned Jake on. Then she stretched and leaned into him, which turned him on more. He toed off his shoes and stretched out, pulling her over him.

“This is everybody’s favorite part,” she said, wrinkling her nose. The main guy, Mr. Darcy, had a squinty, tortured look on his face. Then he squinted some more and dove into a pretty murky-looking pond.

Grace scoffed, but she kept her eyes glued to the screen. “I can always tell that a student hasn’t read the book when they talk about how Darcy dove into the lake. That absolutely did not come from Jane Austen’s mind.”

He rubbed a lazy circle on her lower back. “Why are we watching this movie if you hate it so much?”

She jerked her head up, practically beaning him on the chin. “I don’t hate it! I think it’s a wonderful adaptation of the book. It’s a little too focused on the romance, but I don’t know how you would translate her subtlety of narration onto film, so that’s fine.”

“What’s your deal with romance?” he asked.

She tried to sit up all the way, but he held on to her waist. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you read those trashy paperbacks—your words,” he said when she looked as if she was going to protest. “But then you’re obsessed with everyone else’s obsession with romance.”

“Just in Jane Austen! It’s an important part of the work, but—”

“And in real life. You talk about not wanting to be a spinster, but then you don’t want to date—”

“Is that what you want? To date?”

Jake shook his head. “No, but I’m not obsessed with it like you are.”

She pursed her lips together in a mock pout—at least he thought it was mock—and laid her head on his chest. “I just don’t want it, that’s all.”

He continued making circles on her lower back again. “Why?”

She shrugged. He should let it go, but he wanted to know. He didn’t care, not for his own sake, but he was curious. Just curious.

“Did you get your heart broken?”

She sighed and lifted her head. “Of course I did. Hasn’t everyone?” Jake had, probably. He wasn’t sure. Which might mean he hadn’t. But he was having enough trouble fighting down a bubble of rage that was rising in his chest.

He tucked a finger under her chin and made her look at him. “Somebody hurt you?”

She shrugged him off and put her head back on his chest. “It’s not the end of the world.” He continued rubbing her back, hoping she would start talking.

“It was another professor. He was sort of my mentor in the English Department, but he studied the later Romantics, Keats and Shelley and all that, you know.”

Jake didn’t know, although he vaguely remembered reading long, painful poetry in high school.

“We used to play this game, poetry versus prose, and for every point lost, the loser had to take off an article of clothing.”

“Wow,” said Jake. That was so nerdy he could barely get turned on by it, even with the promise of a naked Grace at the end.

He managed to get a little turned on.

“Anyway, I really admired his work. That’s how we first connected. He was older, but he was still kind of a fox. He was divorced and had teenagers, so I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of an insta-family, but by then I was so turned on by his mind, I figured the rest would work itself out.”

“But it didn’t?”

Grace snorted. “No. He was always a little flaky with details when it came to anything but the Romantics. He forgot to enter final grades all the time, he was always misplacing his cell phone. Oh, and he wasn’t divorced at all.”

“What?”

“He brought his wife to the departmental holiday party. I was supposed to be in Ohio with Jane and her family, but I had to finish up a grant application, so I postponed my trip. And I figured, hey, why not surprise him at the party. Boy, was he surprised!”

“You had no idea he was still married?”

“No, because he told me they were divorced. He still talked to her all the time, but I figured it was just an amicable split. They seemed to mostly talk about the kids. He tried to convince me that they were just trying to put up a united front for the holidays. You know, for the kids.”

“But you didn’t buy it?”

“Oh, I bought it. I’d already forgiven him and was mentally planning our New Year’s Eve together. But our department secretary had a little too much eggnog, and she pulled me aside and told me the truth.”

“And you believed her?”

“She had never led me wrong before. She was the one who told me about the grant I was working on. Which I didn’t get, by the way. Anyway, once I confronted Lou about it, he confessed all. So I started applying for jobs, and here I am.”

“Broken-hearted?”

She lifted her head so their eyes met. “No. I was. And my pride was hurt, probably worse than my heart. But I’m over it now. I swear.”

“Good,” said Jake. Lying there on the couch, feeling the warmth of Grace’s skin through the thin fabric of her dress, Jake felt a niggle of worry. She’d been attracted to the Married Professor’s brain, that was what made her love him. Jake knew he had a lot of good qualities, but professor-level smarts wasn’t one of them. Was that why she was with him? Was she slumming until her broken heart healed? Until something better came along?

But then she leaned up to kiss him, and her lips against his made him forget to consider his dad’s warning, and the evidence in front of him, and when he ran his hands all the way up her back he felt that she wasn’t wearing a bra and he forgot everything else and just felt Grace.