Picture Me Naked (Stoddard Art School Series) (11 page)

Zee ran a hand over her damp face and pushed back the dark spirals of dripping hair. She
really
didn’t want to call Ed. He would never let her forget it, and he would never stop trying to push himself back into her life. No. She wouldn’t call Ed. Bad idea. Worst idea yet. She groaned out loud and shouted, “Dammit, George!”

Chapter Thirteen

Headlights lit up the interior of the car. Zee looked into the rear view mirror, but the glare blinded her. She couldn’t make out the vehicle. The rain was coming down in buckets. She turned to her left hoping to see who was getting out. Perhaps a good Samaritan with a phone.

She startled at a knock on the passenger side window.
Jagger?
Zee leaned over and popped the lock. The door whipped opened and he jumped into the passenger seat.

“Fancy meeting you here.” He shook the rain from his hair. “Come here often, lovey?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Been at the market. I’m on my way home. Saw your hood up.” He reached out and pulled gently on a springy strand of dripping hair. “New look for you?”

“Yes, I heard ‘drowned rat’ was the new black.”

Jagger smiled. “Well, darlin’, when you commit to a look, you commit.” He peered out the windshield. “Is George being a naughty boy again?”

“I killed him.”

“Need to borrow my screwdriver?”

“No.” She held up the knife. “Already tried that. I was sitting here contemplating calling Ed. He’s a mechanic, but he’s always saying what a piece of shit my car is and I don’t want to listen to ‘I told you so’ for the rest of my life.”

“I’ve got a flashlight. I could take a look.”

“It’s pouring. You’ll get soaked.”

“Don’t mind a bit of water.” Jagger wiped rain from her cheek. “Why don’t you sit in the van? It’s warmer in there.”

Zee shivered. “I’m fine here.”

“Don’t make me toss you over my shoulder. Come on.”

After settling her in the passenger seat, Jagger reached across her to snatch a fleece jacket. She could feel the heat of him, smell the damp warmth of his clothes. “It’s not much, but it’ll help.”

He was so close she could see the beginnings of a pale beard against his tanned skin. Zee pulled the jacket over her like a blanket. Or was that a shield? She drew in a shuddered breath as Jagger tucked it around her. “You’re soaked.” He wiped at her jaw. “Dripping.” His gaze held hers until it lowered to her mouth. Was he going to kiss her? She held her breath.

“Warmer?” he whispered.

Zee couldn’t make her throat work. Warmer was one way to describe the heat that pulsed through her. She hoped the roar of the rain falling behind him drowned out the sound of her heart pounding. She nodded.

“Good.” Jagger clicked up the van’s heater before shutting the door and opening the back. He rummaged around and found a flashlight. “Let me take a quick look. Tell if he’s really dead or just…what is that saying you Yanks have, ‘playing possum’?”

“Thank you, Jagger.” The back door closed and the muffled sound of the rain on the roof filled the van. Windshield wipers struggled to clear her view between sweeps as he disappeared behind the raised hood of her car. She let out a rush of breath and tucked her chin into the fleece that surrounding her with the musky, earthy scent of him.

The light swept slowly through the engine compartment. She prayed whatever the problem was it was easy to fix. Before she finished the thought, George’s hood closed. Not a good sign. Jagger hopped back in and sat dripping in the driver’s seat.

“Well? How’s the patient?”

“I’m not seeing anything wrong, Zee. It’s a bugga.” He wiped at his face with his sleeve. “I don’t think George is up to going anywhere tonight.”

“Damn. I was afraid of that. May I use your cell phone?”

“If I had one, sure. Sorry.”

“Well, then I’m back to Plan A. I’ll check in the building, find someone to lend me their phone, and I’ll call a tow truck.” Zee started to pull off Jagger’s jacket.

His hand on her arm stopped her. “No need to be doing that. Why don’t I give you a ride home? I can pick you up in the morning and we’ll come back when it’s not pouring. The light’ll be better, and I can have a proper look. George will be safe here, don’t you think?”

His voice was hushed against the beating of the rain on the roof. His headlights shining off her car’s trunk illuminated the cab of the van. His hair was wet and darkened to the color of caramel. His eyes held hers. “I can’t ask you do to all that,” she whispered.

“You didn’t ask.”

“I know, but…”

“You didn’t ask,” he said softly. The windows of the van had begun to fog. “Let me take you home.”

Zee could think of a dozen reasons why she should say no to Jagger’s offer, but all of them seemed small and petty. She trusted him. Right now it was her she couldn’t trust. The more time she spent with him the harder it was getting to ignore this…whatever
this
was. Infatuation? Admiration? Lust?

“Come on. I’ll have you out of those mucked clothes in no time.” He gave her a suggestive flick of his eyebrows.

Zee’s mouth dropped open. Jagger laughed. “Lovey, I’m joshing.” He held out his hand. “Give us your keys. I’ll grab your gear and lock George up tight.”

Zee handed over her key ring and Jagger was out of the van before she could stop him. He emptied her back seat and put everything into the van.

“Oh! Cat food! There’s a bag in the trunk!”

“Got it.” He was drenched. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t snarling and cursing at her by this point. Ed would have. Instead, he jumped back into the van, stripped off the dripping flannel shirt he wore over his tee shirt and boosted the heater to the sauna setting.

He raked his fingers through wet hair.

“Thank you. Isabella wouldn’t have forgiven me if I forgot her food.”

“Isabella?”

“Isabella Rossellini.”

“Interesting name for a cat.” Jagger pulled on his seatbelt and gave her a grin.

Zee felt a sudden wave of nerves. Their damp skin and the pulse of the heater made everything steamy. His tee-shirt clung to him. The muscles in his arm flexed and curved as he shifted into drive.

What had they been talking about? Oh, right, Isabella. Nice safe subject. “Isabella Rossellini is the best name ever. I’ve always hated my name. My mother, you should meet my mother. She’s unbelievable. Most days she acts like a tie-dyed toddler who likes to stick things into electric sockets. She was high when she decided to name me Z. Z. So I decided if I were ever responsible for naming someone or something, I would choose the prettiest name I could think of. Don’t you think Isabella Rossellini is the most beautiful name there is? I always need to say it with a slight Italian accent too. It’s just one of those names, you know, like…Antonio Banderas.”
Oh my God
. Zee’s brain screamed at her.
You sound like a complete lunatic. Shut up.
She bit her lower lip.

Jagger idled at the edge of the parking lot. Zee realized he was waiting for her to stop her insane ramblings and tell him which way to go. “Oh, I’m sorry…take a right. At the light, turn left on Highland. I’m about ten miles from there. Is that taking you too far out of your way?”

“No such thing as too far.” Jagger didn’t tease her about her babbling, or her name, or that she named her cat after a movie actress. He simply waited for a car to pass and pulled out.

“I guess when you’re from halfway around the world, ten miles isn’t so far.”

“It wouldn’t be too far either way.” Something in the way he said that made her smile.

The cab of the van glowed a soft red, then green. Jagger turned onto Highland.

“You’ll want to stay on this road.”

“Got it.” He gave her that straight, crooked smile that she was coming to love. She tucked her chin into the warmth of the fleece and shivered. But not from the cold.

“How is it you’re halfway around the world?”

“I’m trying to work my way the whole way ’round.”

“Really? You must move a lot.”

“More than most. I left Sydney three years ago. Found a job in Hawaii to get my E1 Visa for the U.S. Lived there for a bit. Worked for a ticket to Los Angeles, then San Francisco, and slowly but surely, I’ve made my way to New York, Boston, then here.”

“Wow. Why?”

Jagger laughed. “I get that a lot. I guess you’d call it my walkabout. Each town I come to, I find a place to stay, and some kind of job to work at for food, make a bit of quid. I’m a cheap beggar. I save every penny so I can to move on to the next place.”

“Don’t you miss your family?”

“I do. I try to stay in touch. Phone calls. Emails when I can. I hear from my sis regular. It’s just her and Mum now.” He kept his eyes on the road. Zee watched his profile. He glanced at her. “We lost Dad a few years back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” He nodded and looked back at the road. Checked his side mirror. Rearview. “He was a good’n.” Jagger smiled at her again. “He’d have liked you.”

“Was it an accident?”

“No. Cancer. He got sick one day at work. Just went down like a sack. Doctors said he had a mass in his brain. He lived about three months after that. Two more than they gave him. But it was quick. Not much pain for him. That was the blessing in it all, I guess.”

Zee didn’t know what to say. She put a hand on his arm.

Jagger nodded. “He was the best. I’m doing all this for him.” He glanced at her again. “Made me promise I wouldn’t get myself stuck in Australia.”

“Stuck?”

“You know, tied down. Caught being responsible like he had, ya know, taking care of Mum and us kids. Not that he was unhappy. He loved the lot of us, but he’d lived his whole life ten miles from where he’d been born. Never saw all the things he dreamed about seeing one day. Big Ben, The Great Wall, Statue of Liberty. He made a list. Knew all about them. Treated the bloody National Geographic magazine like it was made of gold. I promised him before he died that I’d see all the things he never saw.”

“Now you are.”

Jagger nodded. “I promised.”

“They must be proud of you.”

He gave a short laugh. “Depends on who you’re asking.”

Zee wanted to ask what he meant, but she knew how complicated family could be. It was none of her business, and yet, she wanted to know. She suddenly wanted to know everything there was to know about Jagger Jones.

He reached over and squeezed her hand. She hadn’t realized she still touched him. When he took his hand away, she reluctantly released his arm. “So you’ve modeled your way across the country?”

“Hell, no.” His quick smile was back. “I’ve held more jobs than a croc’s got teeth. I’ve dug graves, been a waiter, cleaned swimming pools, laid asphalt. I worked on a Texas cattle ranch, shoveled chicken crap, picked peaches, and washed windows, even worked in a circus for a summer. I like how every day is different, every town. Meeting new people.” His wink was back, too. “Guess my favorite is the job I’ve got right now.”

“You’re an excellent model.”

“Good money, and I get to be without my britches. It’s a great gig.” He chuckled.

“You’re very comfortable without your clothing.” It wasn’t a question.

“Always have been. I feel better without clothes. Been that way since I was a kid. Drove my mum crazy.” He laughed again. “Once me and my mum were on holiday at the shore. Da stayed at home working. She was round as a beach ball pregnant with sis. I was about four and a busta. Knew I could outrun her so I stripped off my swim trunks and threw them into the sea. Then bold as brass, ran past her with all my bits flapping in the wind. It was a bloody ripper.”

Zee laughed.

“Given the choice, I’d be naked all the time.”

“Why? I’m just curious.”

“I’m free. I feel weighed down with clothes on. Trapped almost. They hide too much, you know what I mean? Could never be trussed up like a goose in a coat and tie every day.”

“Most people aren’t as uninhibited as you.”

“I don’t know why not. I mean, you’re an artist. You know everyone is beautiful in their own way.”

“Some are more beautiful than others,” Zee added.

“I don’t agree. Especially the fairer sex. Women are the loveliest beings God ever placed on this earth.”

“As a whole gender or individually?”

“Oh, individually.”

Zee raised her eyebrows. “And you’ve known that many to make you an authority?”

Jagger looked in her direction. “Enough to know each one has at least one thing that makes them special, makes them totally unique, makes them come to life.”

Zee didn’t have the courage to ask what he thought made her special, even though it was suddenly very important for her to know. His gaze held hers. The intimate setting of the van wrapped around her.

He looked back at the road. “Traveling around, I’ve met some great people. And it’s let me see this great country from one end to the other. You Yanks have no idea what amazing sights you have right in your own backyards.”

Zee’d barely left New Hampshire. The thought of moving, strangers in and out of your life, never knowing where you’ll live or work next week—next month. The thought fascinated and terrified her. She wasn’t sure she could live like that. “Where are you headed next?”

“I’ll be in France by the end of the summer. Maybe spend some time on the Riviera before moving up to Paris. Then take the Chunnel over to see London.”

“Paris…” Zee sighed. “I would
love
to go to Paris.”

“So go. What’s stopping you?”

“Life, I guess. School, right now. I’ll get there someday.”

“You shouldn’t wait. Da loved everything there was to know about Paris.”

“I’ve heard it’s incredible.”

Jagger nodded. “When he was real sick at the end. I didn’t sleep much. Scared he would die on me, you know?” He shrugged. “One night, about two in the morning, it was just me and him. He broke down. He started talking about my mum. They were best mates. He’d known she’d be his from the minute she threw an apple at his head in the school yard.” Jagger gave a short laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “Said he used to dream about making love to her in Paris. He was torn up that he’d never get to take her to the Eiffel Tower. He cried. I’d never seen that man cry my whole life.”