All Shook Up (9 page)

Sally looked up in surprise when he approached. “Hey, J.D. I thought you were long gone.”

“Look who’s talking. What are you still doing here? You putting in overtime?”

“In a way. Cheryl had a late appointment in town, so I agreed to stay for a couple of extra hours.” She eyed the tank top, jeans, and boots he’d changed into and
the carpenter’s belt slung around his waist. “Looks like you’ve been working on that railing again.”

“Somebody has to.”

She grinned. “Not only are you a world-class fix-it guy, but word has it you’re now our hero of the hour as well.”

“Huh?” What the hell was she talking about?

“Your defense of Sean. It’s the talk of the employee grapevine.”

“You’re kidding.” He stared at her in amazement. “How come? I didn’t do anything.”

“Mrs. Manion has been a thorn in the help’s side for fifteen years. It warms the cockles of our hearts to hear that you went to bat when she started in on Sean. He worships you now, of course.”

J.D. shifted uncomfortably at the thought, but it warmed him a little, too. “Why do the Lawrences put up with her, if she’s such a pain?”

“Oh, you get some like that sometimes. Most of the guests are sweeties, but a few can be pains, and fewer still, thank God, turn out to be
royal
pains. It doesn’t take much stretch of the imagination to figure out which category Roberta Manion fits into, but she brings in a ton of money. She books suites, eats in the restaurant, and drops a bundle in the gift shop.” Sally smiled wryly. “And, of course, Estelle tips really well.”

“Crazy damn business, if you ask me.”

Sally laughed. “It is that.”

J.D. collected the message slip and headed out, feeling inexplicably cheerful. A hero, huh? How about that.

Passing the dock a few minutes later elicited an outright laugh. The new sign was up, and a flash of pride,
knowing it was his suggestion that had brought it into being, warmed him more effectively than a straight shot of a hundred and twenty proof.

The lake was quiet and still, with blue shadows starting to stretch out over the water. It was just after seven, the lifeguards were gone, and except for a couple in a rowboat headed for shore, the area was deserted. He really was going to have to break down and buy a pair of swim trunks one of these days so he could give the water a try.

Or, what the hell—maybe he’d wait until dark some night and go skinny-dipping. He hadn’t done that since he and Butch had taken a couple of girls out on an after-midnight foray on Lake Union back when they were teenagers.

Feeling downright mellow, he was almost inclined to concede that the Lawrences were exactly what they portrayed themselves to be. Hell, he’d never been around an actual, real-live functional family—maybe such things truly did exist.

The concept seemed to be reinforced when the first person he saw in the Lawrences’ yard was Tate. Wearing nothing but a pair of faded swim trunks, the boy danced around the yard, dark hair flopping as he lunged and feinted and slashed his plastic light-saber through the air with unselfconscious abandon.

J.D. stopped to watch him. “Killing off the bad guys, Tate?”

“J.D.!” The light-saber fell to his side, and he raced over, his grin splitting his face. “Yeah, I was killing ’em all deader’n doornails.” He stared up at J.D., blue eyes wide. “What is a doornail, anyway?”

“You got me.”

The question must have been rhetorical, for Tate shrugged aside J.D.’s lack of an answer. “Didja come here to go swimming with us?”

“No, I came to give your grandpa a message.”

“Oh. When you’re done, you can come swim with us if you wanna. We’re going to race to the float.”

“That sounds real nice, but I don’t have a suit.” He sure wouldn’t mind seeing Dru in hers again, though.

“Ya oughtta get one.”

“You know, I was just thinking that very thing on my way over here. Maybe I’ll run into town tomorrow and pick one up.”

“I get to go to town tomorrow, too. Me and Billy Drooder are gonna hang out, and I’m spending the night at his house and everything.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“No foolin’. We get to rent videos to watch after dinner.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell Mom, but Billy’s mom lets him watch PG-Thirteen.”

“And that’s a pretty cool thing?”

“Way cool. Don’t tell Mom, though.”

The corner of J.D.’s mouth quirked. “My lips are sealed, kid.”

“About what?”

J.D. looked up to see Dru and Sophie and Ben coming down the porch steps. They all wore bathing suits, but Dru, he noticed with regret, had cutoffs over hers.

“Why are your lips sealed?” she demanded.

Feeling Tate’s sudden tension at his side, he gave an
easy shrug. “If I told you, then they wouldn’t be sealed very long, would they?”

“Do you have a question you need answered, Tate? You can ask me anything, you know.” Dru frowned at J.D. “Tate doesn’t have any secrets from me.”

J.D. tried to swallow his snort, but couldn’t totally suppress it. “What world do you live in? I might not be any kind of authority on family dynamics—”

Dru had a credible snort of her own. “That’s a fact.”

“—but I can tell you this much: the boy hasn’t been born who tells his mother everything. You can relax, though. We aren’t harboring any earth-shattering secrets. We were just talking guy stuff.”

“Yeah,” Tate chimed in. “Guy stuff.”

She looked ready to argue, but Ben interrupted. “Is there something we can do for you, J.D.?”

He didn’t sound nearly as friendly as he usually did, and J.D. looked at him in surprise. He hadn’t even seen the man in over a week, so he didn’t understand how he could have managed to piss him off. J.D. shrugged and fished the pink message slip out of his pocket. “It’s more what I can do for you. You had a call from a guy named Henry Briggs this afternoon. He said—”

Ben snatched the slip from his hand. “Fine. Thanks. I’ll take care of it.”

Dru gave her uncle a funny look. “Henry Briggs? Isn’t that your lawyer friend? What do you suppose he wants?”

“He’s looking into something for your uncle,” J.D. said, while sudden anger burned in his gut. Ben’s lawyer—God, he was a chump. He stared at the
Lawrences as they stood in their cozy little family grouping. Hell, yes—a world-class chump to have imagined he’d ever be anything more than an outsider looking in. “And I guess it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that something is, does it?”

D
ru watched a shaft from the lowering sun gild J.D.’s brown shoulders as he stalked across the yard. When she’d walked out of the house and seen him there so unexpectedly, her stomach had flip-flopped. It was still riled up, with equal parts sexual tension and the shameful jealousy she’d felt knowing Tate had just told him something he didn’t care to share with her. Watching J.D. stride away in obvious anger made it roil even more. Forcing her gaze from his receding back, she turned back to her aunt and uncle in time to see Sophie smack Ben on the arm.

“Way to go,” her aunt said.

“What on earth was that all about?” Dru demanded. “What did he mean, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Henry’s looking into?” Before she could explore the sudden suspicion blooming in her mind,
Tate tugged on her hand, and she looked down to see him staring up at her anxiously.

“Is J.D. mad at us?”

“Not you, slick,” Ben said. “He’s mad at me.”

“How come?” Tate said at the same time Dru demanded, “Tell me you’re not having Henry look into the feasibility of contesting J.D.’s claim.”

“Of course not!” Ben thrust his hand through his hair. “I don’t know how this train jumped its tracks so damn fast, but let’s just slam on the brakes here. I’m having Henry look into something entirely unrelated to J.D.”

“What?”

He froze for an instant, his face going blank. Then, avoiding her eyes, he said stiffly, “That’s none of your business, Drucilla.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, watching her husband go rigid at being caught unprepared, and her niece draw back as if he’d slapped her. She stepped forward to do some damage control.

“For pity’s sake, you two. Drucilla, darling, we’re having Henry research something for our estate planning. And, Ben, Dru is hardly a child—she’s not going to come unglued at the thought of a death so far in the future.”

“Whose death?” Tate demanded, and Sophie started. She’d forgotten that he was there.

“Your grandfather’s or mine,” she said matter-of-factly, then reached out to hug him to her when she saw his eyes go wide with incipient panic. “Neither of us plans to die anytime soon, darling. But an intelli
gent person always makes sure his estate is in order before he becomes old, ill, or incompetent.”

“Oh. Okay. We oughtta tell J.D. that. Then he won’t be mad at us anymore.”

“He was never angry with you,” Dru said. “Don’t worry about him, okay? Let’s just go swimming the way we planned—everything will be fine.”

But Sophie observed the unconscious longing in her niece’s eyes as she darted a glance across the now deserted lawn.

Sophie stifled her sigh. Really, this was just too vexing. The two of them weren’t exactly fast out of the gate to begin with, but at least they’d been making some progress. Now that J.D. thought they were trying to cheat him out of his inheritance, though, he was bound to be even more guarded than usual. He wore that abundance of pride like body armor, and Drucilla was so relationship-shy, it would never even occur to her to make the first move.

Which left
her
. Ben would have a conniption if he thought she was meddling, but it was obvious Dru and J.D. were attracted to each other. They just needed a little shove to get them going in the right direction.

Sophie smiled to herself as she contemplated various ways to throw the two of them together. She’d utilize as many of those ways as it’d take until Dru and J.D. either settled the attraction between them once and for all or lost interest in each other entirely. Which she didn’t think was very likely.

“Are you ever gonna get up off your damn butt and find yourself another job?”

Butch tapped his fingers against the phone resting on his stomach and looked up at his wife. The setting sun poured through the sliding door to the lanai, creating an angelic halo of light around Gina’s well-teased hair.

He nearly grunted aloud.
There
was a comparison to make your eyes roll. Though her face was in shadow, he didn’t doubt for a moment that she glared down at him. And angelic was the last thing the hands on her hips and the spike-heel-shod foot tapping an impatient tattoo suggested.

Instead of rolling his eyes, though, he narrowed them at her. “As a matter of fact,” he said coolly, setting the phone aside and pushing back until he was leaning against the arm of the couch, “I just spent most of the afternoon trying to line up exactly that.”

“Uh-huh.” Her voice was so skeptical, a guy would’ve thought she’d heard it all before. “And what’s your excuse for not having one this time?”

Jesus, she was a bitch. It was the very thing that had first attracted him to her, but sometimes she got a little above herself. And the truth of the matter was, he
had
accomplished something today—a couple of somethings, in fact. He’d finally come to a decision about J.D.

He’d decided to call off his search.

J.D. must have moved out of state or something, because he’d vanished into thin air. No one seemed to have a clue where he’d gotten himself off to.

Which meant Butch was officially in clover. J.D.
had just been reacting the other day—Butch admitted the way he’d handled the call coulda used a little more tact. Point was, though: if J.D. was out of state, he wasn’t going to be looking into Butch’s business. And chances that he’d hear of the clerk’s death were pretty much nil. And
that
meant Butch didn’t have to do something about it.

A sharp pain brought his attention back to Gina, who had bent over to poke him with one of her inch-long red talons. “I
said,
what’s your excuse this time?”

He reached out and yanked her down to straddle his lap. “I don’t need an excuse. I lined up some work on a project down by Safeco Field.” Pulling up her skirt, he slid his hands onto her bare ass on either side of the thong that rode the division of her buttocks and, digging his fingers in, pulled her tight against his burgeoning hard-on. Gentle treatment was wasted on Gina, which was fine with him. He delivered a stinging slap to her bare rump. “It’s only temporary, though, so don’t get your hopes up.”

Gina rose up far enough to claw open his fly. “Temporary works. Temporary is just fine. As long as you’re finally doing something to earn your damn keep.”

“Come
on
, Mom.” Tate danced with impatience on the walkway fronting the lodge. “What are we waiting for, anyway? Billy’s
expecting
me.”

“I know he is, sweetie, but the air-conditioning unit for Cabin Four has finally arrived at Bronsen’s, and Aunt Soph asked me to pick it up while we’re in town.”

“So let’s go get it, then.”

Dru felt a smile curve her lips. As if he cared one way or the other about an air-conditioning unit. He just wanted to get to town so he could play with his friend. “We need both a truck to haul it and some muscle to transfer it from the store to the truck, since Harvey Bronsen isn’t as robust as he used to be. Aunt Sophie promised someone would be bringing the truck around any minute now.”

Not that Dru couldn’t sympathize with Tate’s impatience—it was her day off, too, and she didn’t feel like expending energy on the lodge. She hadn’t expected to even get out of the car when she dropped Tate off at his friend’s, and had dressed strictly for comfort in shorts that rode low on her hips and in a cropped tank that exposed her belly button whenever she raised her arms the least little bit.

For a few brief moments, after Aunt Soph had called with her request, she’d considered changing into her lodgewear to present a professional image at Bronsen’s Hardware. Then she’d decided to hell with it. It
was
her day off, so everyone could simply take her as she was.

Tate hopped from foot to foot. “What’s taking him so darn long?”

“For heaven’s sake, Tate. We’ve been waiting less than five minutes. You’re not late yet and Billy will still be there, so do us both a favor and take a nice, deep breath and settle down.”

He not only took a deep breath, he blew it out in a loud sigh of impatience. But then the lodge truck rounded the bend and he brightened. “Finally! Here he
comes!” He snatched his backpack up off the sidewalk and slung it over his shoulders, then strained toward the approaching truck like a compass needle to magnetic north. A huge smile suddenly split his face. “Hey, look, Mom, it’s J.D.!”

“Ducky.” A hot rush of blood flushed her throat and cheeks. Of all the volunteers Aunt Sophie could have drummed up, she’d had to enlist
his
help? Was there no justice in the world?

Dru squared her shoulders. Well, she would simply have to make the best of it, for it was a done deal now. Meeting J.D.’s dark-eyed gaze with a cool look of her own when he leaned over to push open the passenger door, she said, “Good afternoon.”

“Hey, J.D.!” Tate’s greeting was much more exuberant as he clambered up into the cab. “You gonna get a bathing suit while you’re in town?”

“Yeah, I thought I might.” The smile J.D. gave Tate faded when he gazed past him at Dru. He nodded briefly. “Drucilla.”

“J.D.” She swung up into the cab and pulled the door closed, grateful that her son was separating them.

Which only went to prove that old “Don’t count your chickens” adage. For no sooner had she admonished Tate to buckle up than he turned to her.

“Trade places with me, Mom.” Without awaiting a reply, he scrambled over her. “I wanna look out the window.”

And that quickly, she found herself brushing shoulders with J.D. every time he reached to shift gears.

Luckily, the trip down the mountain was a short one. They were soon cruising along Star Lake’s Main
Street, with Tate bouncing on the seat with increasing enthusiasm. Turning to Dru, he said, “I don’t hafta go with you and J.D. to get the air conditioner, do I, Mom?”

Her lips curved up. “No, I think that would be more than we can expect your patience to bear.”

They pulled into the Drooders’ driveway a few moments later. The side door banged open and Billy burst out into the yard. Tate threw open the truck door while J.D. was still killing the engine, and the two boys raced toward each other, meeting in the middle of the yard in a full-body slam. The sheer force of it knocked the boys on their rumps in the grass, where they flopped, guffawing hysterically.

Dru shook her head and smiled ruefully. Sliding over on the seat, she leaned out the truck window and waved to Billy’s mother, who had stepped out the door in her son’s wake. “Better you than me,” she called.

Mary Drooder laughed. “Oh, they’ll be fine. We’ve got some activities planned for today and they’re going to rent some videos for this evening.”

Dru felt the tiniest twinge of concern. “About what they watch, Mary—”

“You haven’t met J.D. yet, have you, Mrs. D.?” Tate interrupted, and something that sounded suspiciously like a choked laugh emerged from J.D. When Dru turned to look at him, however, his face was perfectly composed. He cleared his throat, and she decided he must have had a little tickle in it. Turning back to Mary, who had come up to the truck, she performed the introductions.

J.D.’s forearm brushed her breasts as he leaned past
her to offer his hand to Mary. To distract herself from the sudden rush of heat, she scrambled to remember what she’d begun to say before she’d been interrupted. Hadn’t there been something that had sent up a red flag in her mind? Oh, yes, the videos. “About the videos the boys rent—”

“J.D. kissed Mom,” Tate said. “On his front porch. He went like this.” Tate mimicked a pose that looked horrifyingly carnal.

Every thought in Dru’s head fled as a scalding rush of blood suffused her face. “Tate Lawrence!”

J.D. roared with laughter and fired up the truck’s engine. “Enjoy those videos, Tate,” he said and tipped his head at Mary Drooder, who stared at them in openmouthed fascination. “It was nice meeting you.” He put the truck in gear, and twisted to look over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway.

“You think that was
funny
?” Dru could feel the blood throb in her cheeks as she sat staring blindly out the window in utter mortification. A bitter laugh escaped her throat. “But then, why shouldn’t you? People will merely think you’re quite the stud.”

“Oh, lighten up, Drucilla. Nobody’s going to brand you the slut of Star Lake just because I kissed you. The way you’re carrying on, you’d think I screwed your brains out against that post.”

“Don’t call me that!” Somehow it was easier to concentrate on the way he invariably used her entire name—instead of calling her Dru like everyone else—rather than on the fact that the entire town of Star Lake would soon know they’d been kissing on his porch…and was quite likely to brand her exactly that.

To be fair, J.D. had no idea that she’d had Tate out of wedlock. She wasn’t ashamed of the fact—not when it had brought her Tate. But she’d worked hard to prove to the people of Star Lake that she
wasn’t
a young woman of loose morals. J.D. was probably the only person in town who didn’t know her entire life history, and she’d really like to keep it that way.

He looked over at her. “Why not? Drucilla’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but hardly anyone calls me that.” At least not anyone she was desperately trying to keep at a distance.

“Your aunt does.” He shrugged. “Besides, I like it; it’s different.”

“No kidding it’s different. It’s ridiculous, is what it is, and if you want to call me that, then you have to tell me what J.D. stands for. It’s not fair that you get to know my given name when I don’t know yours.”

“John David.”

She made a rude noise. “Well, big whoop. That’s a perfectly nice name.” She’d been hoping for something even more unusual than her own. Then she shot him a suspicious look. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? It’s probably really Jebediah Dorkal, or some such.”

He downshifted into second as he approached the stop sign at Main, then eased on the brakes. Once the truck had rolled to a stop, he shifted onto one hip and fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He lobbed it into her lap.

She flipped it open and read his driver’s license.
Sure enough, it read
John David Carver
. “Well, hell.” She tossed the wallet back in disgust.