Love Is the Drug (17 page)

“Okay,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood, “
now
I’m loaded for bear!”

When she looked over her shoulder at him with a look of confusion on her face, he dangled the long length of condoms in the air. She gaped.

He gave a nervous chuckle.

Then she giggled, and all his worry fled.

* * *

The next day Jason drove to the lodge site in Julie’s truck—tomorrow, he was buying an SUV. He sure as hell didn’t want to put one single scratch in this fine machine using it another day for cross-terrain driving. His mind was only half on the job, though, because the other half was still in the soft, sexy, gorgeous grip of the novice lover he’d left thoroughly sated and nearly comatose in bed an hour ago. She was supposed to be with him right now, but she’d been so fuzzy after that last wild ride he’d taken her on, that he’d had to leave her to rest awhile longer, promising to pick her up in two hours so she could meet with Mike about the progress on the restaurant.

He grinned and turned to happily scan the terrain. She sure was game, he had to hand it to her. That chick was fun with a capital
F.
And at the rate he was going, he’d be through his repertoire by the end of the week. Which usually didn’t happen ‘til just around the time he’d start gettin’ that antsy feelin’ and figure it was time to explore other options, so to speak. But he wasn’t near to bein’ done with her—not by a long shot.

He scrubbed his fingers across his chin. Well, he guessed he’d just have to start all over again, from the beginning. Yeah. It’d be like a second helping of the best damned meal he’d ever had. And who knew? Maybe he’d just have to put his mind to thinkin’ of a few new moves and positions to add to his bag of sex tricks.

A steaming hot fantasy began to form in his mind then, but was rudely and painfully snatched away when his sights were snared by the distinct form of a young black-haired boy of about seven- or eight-years-old skipping stones—or trying to—on the small pond about a quarter mile from the lodge.

He hauled ass over there and slammed on the brakes, stopping the truck about ten feet from where the boy stood and rolled down the window. “Who are you, kid, and what are you doing on my property?”

* * *

Luke turned in the direction of the aggravated voice and gave the snippity-looking guy behind the wheel of the shiny red truck a squint-eyed glare. He’d heard the sound of a car coming up behind him, but he’d figured it was Mike come to yell at him and take him back to his worksite. So he’d decided to show him just how un-scared of him—or that ‘time-out’ thing—he was, by pretending to ignore the roar of the engine.

“Well?” the man said and got out of the truck. “Whose kid are you?”

Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “None of your beeswax, mister.”

“Are you one of the construction worker’s boys? You shouldn’t be out here by yourself—it’s not safe for a kid your age.”

Luke pressed his lips together and didn’t say another word. He figured the less he said, the better—that way,
Mr. Snippets
wouldn’t know who to snitch to.

* * *

Jason gritted his teeth. The kid’s attitude irked the hell out of him. But, he’d be damned if he’d let the little monster stay here to get into God-knew-what-kind of trouble—which, no doubt, would end in a very long, very expensive lawsuit against himself, his dad and Julie.

He slid his cell phone from its belt clip and sent a call through to Mike, who picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Mike—
shit!
I’ll call you back.” The kid was already thirty feet across the pasture that surrounded the pond.

Jason took off after him.

Well, that confirmed it. The boy was up to no good. And Jason had every intention of getting to the bottom of it—and putting a stop to this nonsense—toot sweet.

Less than thirty seconds later, he caught the boy up by the scruff of his shirt.

“Hey—” The kid twisted and squirmed, clawing at Jason’s hand with his grubby fingernails.

“Calm down, little guy, I’m only trying to make sure you don’t hurt yourself—or get hurt—I’ve seen a few cottonmouths in that pond.”

The kid stopped squirming and gave him a wide-eyed, open-jawed look. Jason let go the hold he had on the boy’s shirt, but kept his hand near in case he decided to bolt again.

The kid’s initial fearful look instantly turned to one of belligerence. “So? I like snakes,” he said.

“Great, so do I, but they don’t always like us—especially if you get too close.” Jason put his hand on his hip. “Now, are you ready to tell me who you are?”

The kid crossed his arms over his chest and answered him with silence—except for the sound of raging, fuming breath blowing out his nostrils and from between his teeth.

“Okay, in the truck with you, then. You’re going to sit your canister down in the farmhouse until I can find out who you belong to.” Jason put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and goose-stepped him over to the truck. After lifting his angry, tense, skinny little body onto the black-vinyl seat, he strapped him into the retro-fitted seat belt and got into the cab of the truck himself.

Fifteen minutes later, he pressed the kid down into one of the kitchen chairs and, with his hand still firmly positioned on the boy’s shoulder, called Mike again. “Hi, Mike—listen, did one of your worker’s bring his kid here today?”

* * *

Julie came back into the kitchen from the door that led out onto the porch, Pookie in hand. “What have you been in to? You’ve got cobwebs all in your fur, you naughty kitty.”

“He’s your son?” Jason said.

Julie’s head shot up. She hadn’t realized anyone was in the room with her. Her eyes landed on Jason long enough for him to mouth to her that he’d explain in a minute, before skipping down to the child in the chair.

“Yeah, I understand,” Jason said, “but I found him at the pond—the one we saw those two cottonmouths in that first day, remember?”

The boy had a thunderous look on his face—and a mouth pinched so tightly closed, Julie doubted even the Jaws of Life could get it open—but he was darling. What a little cutie. Big brown eyes and an oval face framed by longish straight dark hair, cut so that it covered his ears and fell over his forehead. He was wearing a faded black t-shirt with Nirvana printed in gold letters on the front above a print of a hand-drawn smiley-face that had
X
s for eyes and khaki cargo shorts with well-worn and grass-stained athletic shoes.

“Hi,” she said and gave him a smile.

His expression didn’t budge.

“Are you hungry? Would you like some eggs and bacon or something?”

“I brought him to the farmhouse,” Jason said into the phone and moved to stand in the doorway that led into the living room with his back to them. “He can stay here with my dad until you’re done for the day.”

Julie saw a flash of interest at the meal in the child’s eyes before it was doused by Jason’s last words. She put her kitten on the floor and quickly gave it its food before getting the eggs and bacon from the refrigerator. “I’ve got some fruit juice—would you like a little while I’m making your breakfast?” she asked the boy over her shoulder.

He didn’t answer her, but he wet his lips and resettled in his chair, so she figured he wouldn’t refuse the drink if she set it before him.

“Bye, Mike.” Jason turned and slid his phone back into its clip. “Julie—this, evidently, is Luke Magnusen, Mike’s son.”

Julie turned with the bowl of beaten eggs and whisk in her hand and grinned at the child. “Hi, Luke, glad to meet you.”

But the boy’s entire attention was focused on Jason. He leapt to his feet. “Luke
Blum!
” he yelled. Then he turned to Julie and repeated, “My last name’s not Magnusen, it’s Blum—and Mike’s not my dad, George Blum is my dad! I don’t care what
anyone
says!”

Julie’s eyes flew to Jason’s stunned face. She could only imagine what must be going through his mind right now. She shifted her gaze to Luke’s then and said, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Luke Blum.”

The boy’s shoulders relaxed and he surprised her by whispering very sweetly, “Hi,” in return.

“Are you related to
Nora Lee
Blum by chance?” Julie asked, expecting to hear of some second-cousin or similar relationship. Common in small towns such as this one.

“She’s my mom.”

Julie’s brows shot up and she darted another half-glance at Jason. His expression mirrored her own. “Your mo—”

“What’s
his
name?” Luke stormed, his face a glower. He jabbed his thumb in Jason’s direction.

Jason crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m Jason Jörgensen,” he said. Julie heard the strain in his voice. “And this is my wi—partner—Julie Del Mar. We own the property together.”

Julie kept the smile plastered on her face and her eyes glued to the boy, but pain arrowed through her heart, cramping it, and taking her breath away for a second. And even though she knew Jason was dealing with some demons of his own, she couldn’t help thinking:
He couldn’t call her his wife? After all that had happened between them the past few days?

She turned back around then and continued beating the eggs. “You two wash up, the food’ll be ready in about ten to fifteen minutes.”

* * *

Jason shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and stared out at the waning light of late-summer-night dusk enveloping the land surrounding the wood-frame skeleton of the fishing lodge on whose cement slab he currently stood.

“That was rather awkward.” Julie said from behind him. He heard the scuffling sound of her footsteps across the sawdust covered floor, but didn’t feel the heat of her coming too near him, for which he was relieved. He felt way too jumpy just now to deal with a female. And, damn it, he’d thought she’d left with Mike a few minutes ago when Mike went to pick up Luke from the house. Clearly, he’d been mistaken.

With a shrug, he said, “Yeah, I guess. But it had to be said.”

“It
had
to be said? I don’t think so. It’s really none of our business.”

He swung his head around and glared at her. “Look, if you don’t like it, don’t get involved. But I’m sure as hell not going to stand by while that poor kid’s life is ruined.”

“Ruined? Isn’t that a bit dramatic?” she asked as she walked closer, to within about two feet of where he stood, and then crossed her arms over her chest. “And, honestly, after seeing how furious Mike got with just a few questions—pointed though they were—I’m beginning to worry he’ll pull out of this job once he finds out that you called George Blum and let Luke talk to him earlier.”

Jason faced her full-on then. “Luke wanted to talk to his father and I facilitated that. Mike and Nora Lee are being cruel to that kid; that’s all there is to it.”

“
Jason, you don’t know that! You don’t know anything about what’s going on—why Luke’s not being given permission to call or visit the man!” Her fingers gripped her upper arms. “It’s clearly a complicated, highly emotional situation, what with Mike and Luke only just finding out about their relationship two—”

“Ha! Exactly!”

“—
months ago when Nora Lee moved back here after her divorce from Doctor Blum.” She looked out between the vertical posts, across the grassland in front of her, in the direction of the farmhouse, even though it was too far to see it. “Didn’t you notice how quiet—how
sad
—Luke seemed when we came back into the kitchen after he got off the phone?” Sighing, she shook her head. “I think Doctor Blum shut him down. That he doesn’t
want
to stay in contact with Luke.” She looked back at him then. “I really do.”

Jason bristled. “Well I don’t. I think Luke was just upset because he knew that was the last time he’d get to talk to his dad for a long time.”

“Well, all I can say is, I hope your meddling hasn’t compromised our business.”

“I don’t really care if it has!” Jason stormed over to a scrap piece of two-by-four and kicked it as hard as he could. It catapulted high into the air and then landed with a hard
thunk
about four feet away before skidding across the cement and slamming into a joist. “I’m not going to just stand around like a namby-pamby while I watch some boy’s life get as fucked up as mine!” He swung back around and drilled his gaze into her. “Got it?”

Her eyes widened and he could tell he’d shocked the shit out of her by the way her shoulders heaved and her lips parted as she took in quick, shallow breaths.

Good. Maybe she’d leave him—and this subject—alone now.

But after another charged moment, she blinked and her expression mellowed into something that more resembled that tender feeling he’d been experiencing himself the past few days. It sent a tiny charge of guilt through him, which he determinedly ignored. Because, along with that tenderness, he saw a strong shot of concern mixed in as well. Concern he didn’t need—or want.

“Jason, you’re life is
not
fucked up. How can you say that? You and Gabe are so close.”

Not anymore!
He barely kept from spewing the words.

Then she walked over to stand near him again—near enough to touch.

But she didn’t.