More Than Friends (6 page)

He was courting danger. He was a fool. That was something else that hadn’t changed. He’d always been a fool for Jenny.

Stuffing the car keys into his jeans pocket, he made his way to the door and knocked softly. Before he had a chance to lower his hand, she stood before him, staring up through the screen.

Her dark blond hair looked slightly ruffled, as though she’d been asleep. But she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Bare feet peeked out below.

Chase suddenly realized it was almost midnight. Except for their recent conversation at the mill, he hadn’t seen Jenny in eleven years. He couldn’t show up on her doorstep this late.

“I don’t belong here. And you should slam the door in my face.”

“You’re right on both accounts,” she said, holding open the screen. “Come inside.”

“I
t’s late.” Chase stood beside the door and shifted his weight. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“I am.”

“Maybe you could explain it to me.”

“There’s nowhere else to go. Despite everything, we used to be friends.”

He looked unconvinced. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

Jenny wondered if he felt as nervous as she did. Even in the brightly lit room, the night crowded around them, bringing together past and present, overlapping space and time. Were they really strangers or did traces of the teenage lovers remain?

Lovers?
Now why had she thought of that particular word? It couldn’t be because Chase filled up the small area of her living room until there was barely enough air left to breathe. They’d never been lovers. Their frantic embraces hadn’t had time to progress past exploration before he’d been forced out of town.

“Chase.” His name fell from her lips and lingered in the room.

They stood near each other. Close enough for her to feel the warmth from his body, smell the masculine scent that was uniquely his, see the tired shadows staining his tanned skin.

“I…” He swallowed. “I’d better go.” But he made no move to leave.

“That would be best.” He’d already proven he had the power to hurt her. His rage could destroy her life.

But she didn’t want him to leave. Not like this. There were so many things still to be said. Despite his claims to the contrary, he was going to need some help getting through his father’s illness. She wasn’t sure why she felt she was the chosen one. Seeing him through this would be as foolish as sticking her head into the mouth of a very hungry, very angry lion. Maybe it was for old times’ sake, or the forever they never had. Maybe it was because she knew his anger came from knowing only half the truth.

“We could call a truce,” she said softly. “Just until your dad’s out of danger.” She didn’t voice the other possibility.

“A truce?” He glanced over his shoulder at the door, then back at her. “All right.”

The overhead light outlined the strong lines of his cheeks and jaw. Dark eyes, the color of midnight, stared down as if he were seeing her for the first time. The once-smooth black hair looked rumpled, as though he’d dragged his hands through the thick locks. Time had been good to him, changing the boy to a man.

She leaned forward slightly and stared. Something wasn’t right. Something about his face that… “Did you break your nose?” she asked, suddenly realizing a slight bump marred the once-perfect profile.

“Your father had the honor of doing that.”

His firm, male mouth threatened a smile. One side turned up slightly, then relaxed into a straight line. Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t seen Chase smile in so long, something told her that all the time in the world couldn’t dilute its devastating effect.

“I’m sorry.” Impulsively, she reached out to touch him. Her courage deserted her and she started to pull away.

“Dammit, Jenny. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Come here.” He tugged her into his embrace.

It was like coming home. Sure, the planes of his chest seemed harder, broader, more defined, and he’d grown a couple of inches, but the feel of his arms holding her so tightly their bodies began to blend into one was exactly as she remembered. His hands splayed across her back, one above the other. The last two fingers of the lower hand teased at the waistband of her jeans. The steady beat of his heart under her ear was as familiar as her own. She thought he sighed softly. Did he feel it, too?

Whispered phrases drifted to her. None of the words made sense, and she answered, using the same meaningless sounds, murmuring her need, the pain, how much she’d missed him.

Her arms slipped under the jacket he wore and pressed hard against his sides and back. The flannel shirt was soft and warm, retaining the heat and scent of his body.

Gradually she became aware that her breasts, free of the usual confines of a bra, were crushed against him. That the pressure had shifted from comforting to sensual. That they had stood holding each other for several minutes. That the rumblings weren’t words of love but the complaints of an unfed stomach.

Reluctantly, she stepped back. “You’re hungry. You should have said something.”

Chase shrugged. “It’s after midnight. I didn’t expect you to even be up.”

“I wasn’t,” she admitted. “I’d gone to bed around ten, but then I woke up about a half hour ago and I had this feeling…” She glanced at the floor. “I can’t explain it.”

He placed a hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “You don’t have to, Jenny. Not to me.” His dark eyes gave nothing away and she wondered what had happened to the boy who had worn his heart on his sleeve.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll fix you something light.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Will you stop it?” Jenny grabbed his arm and pulled him through her small living area into an equally tiny kitchen. “You’ve been at the hospital for hours. I bet you didn’t bother to eat while you were there.”

“Would you eat hospital food if you didn’t have to?”

“No. Sit.” She pushed him into an oak chair and placed her hands on her hips. “Have you eaten
anything
today?”

“Some sort of meat substance on the plane. And the honey-roasted nuts. They’re my favorite.”

Arched brows rose and fell suggestively until she felt herself grin. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“The old Jackson charm. Gets ’em every time.” He leaned forward and shrugged off his bomber-style jacket. The brown leather had seen better days, but the faded patched garment suited the Chase she remembered.

She’d wondered how he’d dress, now that he’d made his own way in the world. For the past two days, she’d tried to prepare herself for pinstripe suits and wingtips. Instead, he looked like any steelworker, clad in blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Only this shirt had been washed so many times, the colors of blue and white blurred together in uneven lines. Her gaze drifted back to his, then skittered away when their eyes met.

“How about an omelet?” she asked.

“Sounds great. Got any coffee?”

“At midnight? How about cocoa?”

He grimaced, then stretched. With his long, lean body and powerful shoulders, he overpowered her small kitchen. From end to end, the room barely measured eight feet. The table, white tiles framed in pale oak, seated two, but even then knees bumped underneath.

Jenny pulled open the refrigerator door and removed three eggs and some raw vegetables. “Tell me about your dad. Did you talk to the doctor?”

“Yeah. Dr. Martin stopped by while I was there. She told me a little about his condition.”

He hesitated and she looked up from her chopping. “What?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m frustrated that no one will give me a straight answer.”

“Maybe there is no straight answer.” She crossed the small room in three steps and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Your dad will be fine. He’s a strong old bird. You’ll see.”

“I don’t think so.” He looked at the curtained window. “I think he’s going to die.”

“Chase.”

“I’m okay,” he said, still avoiding her gaze. “When I got the telegram, I started to prepare myself for the worst. I don’t know if I’m angry at him for getting sick, or at myself for caring. I’d thought about coming back sooner, but I kept waiting for him to invite me.” He gave a harsh laugh. She tightened her fingers. “You’d think I would have learned that lesson a long time ago. William Jackson never backs down.”

“I wish…” Jenny blinked against the burning in her eyes.

“I know.” He flashed her a grateful smile and her insides melted. This was the Chase she remembered. “How about my food, woman? A man could die of starvation in this place.”

“Coming right up.” She stuck two mugs with milk into the microwave, then went back to the vegetables. “Was Terry working the night shift tonight?”

“Yeah. Could have knocked me over with a feather. She’s still as cute as ever. Said she’d married Tom.”

“They have two boys and are very happy together.” Jenny wasn’t sure why she felt the urge to emphasize the couple’s marital bliss, but continued to extol the virtues of their relationship until Chase’s smile widened into a very male, very self-satisfied grin.

“You wouldn’t still be jealous about me and Terry, would you?” he asked.

“I was never jealous.” She pulled the mugs out of the microwave and stirred in the cocoa. Setting one cup in front of him, she frowned. “That you made a fool of yourself over her is really none of my concern.”

The good humor fled as quickly as it had arrived. “I made a fool of myself over you. That didn’t concern you, either.”

Their eyes met. His anger didn’t hide his hurt. She broke away first. “I’d better finish your meal or you won’t get any sleep at all tonight. Was your dad awake when you were there?”

Chase hesitated as if he wasn’t willing to accept the change in subject, then shook his head and cupped his hands around the mug. “They’d given him something to help him rest. I sat there watching him-for all the good that did. I expected him to be sick, but I didn’t think he’d be old.”

“It’s been a long time,” she said, breaking the eggs into a bowl, then beating them with a fork. “There’s been a lot of changes.”

“Did he…” She heard him shift in his seat, but didn’t turn around. “I can’t believe I have to ask you this, but did he get married or anything?”

Jenny couldn’t imagine straight-laced William Jackson unbending enough to admit interest in a mere woman. “Not that I know of. He never dated anyone in town. He was gone on business from time to time, but I don’t think he’d, ah, well, you know.”

Chase exhaled, the sound seemed sad. “He wouldn’t risk the emotion. To him, that was for the weak. After Mom died, he didn’t have anyone. All he cared about was the mill.”

“He cared about you.”

“Yeah.”

She risked a glance and saw him sprawled out on the chair. Long legs stretched under the table. The heels of his boots rested on the bottom rung of the chair opposite him. His fingers were laced behind his head.

After pouring the eggs into a pan, she dropped a slice of bread into the toaster and started to set the table. “He did care,” she said, smoothing down a single place mat. “Every time you sent one of your letters, he’d read it over and over. I saw him sitting in his chair, staring at the pages. I could see that he loved you.”

Brown eyes sought hers. She saw that he wanted to believe, but couldn’t allow himself the luxury. “He never wrote back. Not once.”

“I’m sorry.” She added the chopped vegetables and turned over the omelet. “As soon as I found out why you left town, I went to him and told him the truth.” The memory of the coldness in William Jackson’s expression made her shiver. “He said it didn’t matter, but I could see he missed you.”

“Not writing seems to be a town failing.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember getting a letter from you,” she said.

“Me? You’re the one who—” Emotion flared. Then as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, concealed behind a polite mask. “Sorry. Truce.” He finished his cocoa and set the mug on the table. “So, what’s been going on with your family? Your dad still raising hell with the union?”

“You bet. Although he’s mellowed in the last few years. I think Anne’s kids helped that process.”

She slid the food on a plate and set it in front of him. Just as she reached to pick up his empty mug, he started to hand it to her. Her gaze fell upon his left wrist and the beaten-up old watch he wore. Deep inside, a knot tightened, then pressed against her heart. After all these years, he still had the watch.

She remembered that time like it was yesterday. Chase’s birthday was in early November. She’d spent a whole summer vacation baby-sitting for the Van Ross kids, suffering their tantrums and wild stunts. Every hard-earned cent had been carefully saved. Then, in late October, her older sister, Anne, had driven her into the city and she’d bought that watch for Chase’s birthday. Back then, seventy dollars had been all the money in the world.

When she’d given it to him, meticulously wrapped in floral paper with a store-bought bow, she’d been shaking so hard, she’d been afraid she’d throw up. He’d known, she remembered with a sad half smile. He’d seen that the gift was more than a watch, it was also her heart.

That had been the afternoon they’d admitted their love for each other. That had been the afternoon they’d begun planning their future together. The afternoon she’d realized there would never be another man for her. No matter what happened, or how much time they spent apart, she’d only ever love him.

“Jenny?”

“What? Oh.” She stared at the mug she was holding, wondering if she had the courage to ask why he still wore the watch. She didn’t allow herself to believe it had any sentimental value. “Let me fix you another cup.”

“You feeling okay?”

“Yes. I was just, uh, thinking.” Jenny pulled open a cupboard, grimacing when the handle came off in her hand. “This place needs an overhaul.”

As he took a bite of toast, he looked around the tiny kitchen. “And about two thousand more square feet. It’s like a dollhouse.”

“Only to giants. It suits me perfectly.”

He cut into the omelette. “You live here alone?”

“Yes. I rent it. The old lady who used to live here went to stay with her daughter. The family isn’t sure whether to fix it up or sell it. In the meantime, the rent is cheap and I’m close to the mill and my family.” She shrugged and stirred the cocoa. “When it rains, I have to put out about five buckets, the porch swing sticks and the railings are coming apart, but I still like it.”