Bachelor's Special (11 page)

“No, cookie. This is story about my Chet.”

Her interest rose and, with a sigh, Jill perched on the edge of a barstool to listen. “Okay.”

“Do you know how I come to work here?”

Jill shook her head. She’d laughed at herself for her earlier comment suggesting Chet made moves on his housekeeper. After she’d met Gretchen it became obvious Chet favored her as a grandmother, as any person would. She smelled of freshly baked cookies and lemon-scented furniture polish. Her arthritic fingers and awkward gait made her movements slow, but it didn’t seem to curb her determination.

“Albert, my husband of forty-seven years, bless his heart, he worked for my Chet as an engineer.” Her chin lifted with pride. “Chet’s father hired him all the way from Germany when we first marry.”

Jill had no idea Gretchen’s long-dead husband was an engineer.

“When Albert died, I have nothing.” She lowered her eyes. “By this time my Chet own the company. I’m old woman. He finds how difficult things become for me. He visits me and tells me he will look out for me. I shouldn’t worry.”

Gretchen’s words melted Jill’s anger toward Chet. The man was a walking contradiction. One part of him a true giver—he cared and looked out for others. At the same time, he wouldn’t listen to reason or change plans unless it was his idea.

“I tell him no charity. We make deal.”

“Your Chet loves to make deals.”

Gretchen’s face lit up with her smile, erasing any traces of sadness around her eyes. “I clean for him so I not charity. He very good man. He does same for Joe.”

“Joe?”

“He takes care of lawn. He lived on the streets. My Chet help him get on his feet and give him place to live. He my Chet’s gardener.”

“Point taken, Gretchen. I won’t judge him too harshly.”

“Good, cookie. You good girl, too. Smart, like my Chet.” The older woman fingered the dust cloth hanging out of her front pocket and made her way toward the archway separating the kitchen and dining area.

Gretchen’s broken English made everything clear. Jill had seen Chet run the vacuum, empty trash, and handle his own laundry. She’d found it odd Chet took much of the housework on himself instead of hiring someone else. Damn him for having a heart. But Joe topped the deal. To take in a complete stranger off the streets and give him a job and a place to live? How could she distrust a man who took care of people on instinct?

How could she have even speculated for a moment that he might be carrying on with Gina? Guilt consumed her. Deep down she’d known that wouldn’t be Chet’s style, but it was an added bonus to hear Gretchen’s story to help her confirm.

Jill should’ve listened to her inner voice the moment Gina opened her mouth. It wasn’t Chet who’d lied but a bleached-blond barracuda named Gina. The other woman wanted Jill out of the way to keep the path to Chet clear. Gina might love Chet, if she even understood the meaning of the word, but Chet had been over Gina for years.

Chapter Thirteen

Chet placed the velvet box with the bow on the passenger seat, then brushed his hands over his face. Work had gone later than expected. All day he’d counted down the hours until he could go home.

To Jill.

Whoa, Castle. Don’t get carried away.
He had to remind himself that she only wanted to be friends—nothing more. Hell, wasn’t that all he wanted, too?

But the way their morning ended bothered him to no end. He didn’t want to fight with her, but he didn’t understand why she wanted to leave.

His chest ached as he replayed their conversation in his head. Jill’s request to move in with Mel and Jared had thrown him into an emotional tailspin. Anger, confusion, and a few other emotions he couldn’t pinpoint rushed through him. He didn’t want anything long term, but he sure as hell wasn’t prepared for her to leave. Not yet.

Although she made sure to stress her request wasn’t the end of their arrangement, he didn’t want to even consider her not being there at night when he returned home. The sparkle of her eyes when she smiled, how her throaty laughter unsettled his heart, and the way she moved around the kitchen when she cooked. He wasn’t prepared to not have that. Not yet.
Just a little more time.

In order to stop himself from saying something he’d regret earlier that morning, he’d forced himself through the kitchen door to his car. He’d had to, especially when her eyes glistened with tears and her bottom lip trembled.

You’re a heel, Castle.

Teary-eyed women made him powerless—and he sure as hell didn’t want to be the cause of any waterworks. Especially when it came to Jill—the wide-eyed look on her face as she fought back tears sent waves of something foreign through him. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, until he could talk her into banishing thoughts of leaving from her mind.

Chet pulled away from the parking ramp, his stomach in knots. He let realization sink in—he might value Jill as a friend, but his thoughts weren’t always focused on the friendship angle. The attraction between them was undeniable. Could you be attracted to a friend?

He tossed those thoughts aside—unwilling to go there just yet. He needed to figure out their disagreement from this morning. What had made Jill so unhappy that she preferred to drive in to plan meals and parties rather than living in his home? She already confessed she loved the mini vacation of the sauna, pool, and even the movie theater. What was the problem then?

The clock on his dash showed him well over two hours late. Hopefully Jill would still be up and they could get to the bottom of what troubled her without their words turning hot.

…

Jill rubbed her abdomen, nerves gnawing at her stomach. The grumbling in her belly didn’t help matters. She’d barely eaten all day—even finding it difficult to choke down half the sandwich she’d made for lunch.

She eyeballed the clock for the millionth time. Already half past nine, she’d double-checked his calendar and there were no plans written there. He should’ve been home long ago.

Earlier in the day, she’d gone to the grocery store to buy the ingredients for a special dinner. The Szechwan beef and cabbage salad were ready and waiting. If he stayed away much longer it’d be ruined.

Her plan to talk to Chet and make peace wasn’t starting out as she’d hoped—for one he was late, and for another all the waiting had forced her nerves to eat a hole in her stomach. After their exchange that morning, if she aired some of her concerns maybe they could return to their normal camaraderie. She’d never be totally at ease after what happened in the pool, but at least they’d be able to talk like they used to.

Jill never had a problem being blunt, so why stop now with Chet? She’d lay it on the line, tell Chet about her conversation with Gina and the confusion it evoked, and move on. Who knew, maybe Chet didn’t even recognize the fact Gina was chasing after him. If Jill told him tonight, at least he’d know. She’d also decided that staying under his roof would be doable. She’d stick to their original agreement.

If he’d only get home.

The sound of the garage door opening quickened her heart. He was here. Late, but here. Minutes later, the side door opened, and he paused to meet her gaze as he entered.

She couldn’t move toward him, her feet held back by invisible weights.

“Here.” He offered her a long, slender, velvet box. A baby-sized white bow placed in the center. Heightened color accented the lines of his cheekbones.

Chet Castle embarrassed?
She stared at the box until he broke her trance by shaking it at her.

“Take it.” His gruff voice filled her with self-doubt. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a good time to air her concerns.

“Thanks.” She grasped the box with stiff fingers and continued to stare at it.

“Are you counting the velvet fibers or are you going to open it?”

“Whoa, turn down the white-hot charm, Prince, you’re blinding me.”

One side of his mouth twitched in a halfhearted smile. Tension slid down her body and disappeared as they shared their smile, the one missing ever since the day at the pool.

“First off, what’s this for?”

“A gift of appreciation for the other night. You went above and beyond my expectations.”

Jill’s heart thumped. “The other night?”

“Dinner party. Knock knock.” He pretended to tap his knuckles against the side of her head. “Anyone home? Well, not just that one dinner party, but the several you’ve done in the last few weeks actually.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Oh. The dinner parties. For a minute there I thought you were giving me… Never mind.” Yeah, a reward for pool sex. Good grief. Must she always think of sex when he was near?

“What? You honestly thought I was giving you a gift for what happened in the pool?”

Damn him and his psychic powers.

“Well, um…” Heat flooded her face, and probably the skin hidden beneath her red capri pants and black sleeveless blouse.

“Come on, Jill. Stop being so flustered around me. Just be you. Do you really think I’m such a cad?” Chet brushed his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I even want to hear your answer.”

“Well, no. No. Deep down I think you’re…”

“What? You think I’m a
swell
guy?” His word choice mocked her love of the fifties. “Since the pool, you can hardly bring yourself to look at me. I admit, things got out of hand, and then on the stairs…” He brushed his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” He turned away from her, but she heard his soft mutter. “I won’t let it.”

Her feet came unglued from the floor and she rushed toward him, grabbing him by the arm to stop him and turn him toward her. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dork.”

He grinned. “What happened between us is no reason we can’t be friends. That day in the pool came about naturally. Passionate and strong. There’s nothing wrong with it. At least I didn’t think so.”

“You’re right.” And he was. Their friendship may have started out odd, but they’d always been able to talk. “I’m sorry. The…well, the sex thing threw me. I’m a big girl, but I can’t help feeling awkward about what happened. Even after our talk, I don’t want you to think I’m like that, or that there’s a chance…” She bit her tongue to stop from rambling. She took in several gulps of air and rested her rear against the counter.

“I’m a good person, Jill. I wish you’d see that. I’m not waiting for the next opportunity to jump you in the darkened hallways of my house, you know.”

She hated the defeat in his voice. Defeat wasn’t his style.

“We’re both adults, things got out of hand.”

“I know. I’m being…being immature.” It wasn’t like he would brag in the gym locker room and soil her rep.

He nodded, not meeting her gaze. Her stomach lurched again.

“I talked with Gretchen earlier. She eased some doubts I had about you.”

“What doubts?” Finally, he looked at her, but his expression revealed nothing.

“The other night at the dinner party. Gina…she kind of said…she implied…” Her chest pinched. This couldn’t be happening. The talk she planned wasn’t starting out the way she’d intended. Like coherent.

He grumbled in his throat, then leaned against the counter next to her, arms folded across his chest. “I should have trusted my instincts when Gina wanted to stay and help you clean up. The only type of help Gina can manage is helping herself. What tale did the lovely Gina dispense?”

His voice held a thread of sarcasm
.
Hope swelled her chest. She shared her conversation with Barracuda in a steady stream of words, hardly taking a breath between sentences. “I hate to admit it, but I even suspected you of using me to make her jealous.”

He searched her face. “Not a chance. I have no illusions about Gina.”

“I feel bad for Howard.”

“You and me both.” He shook his head, then muttered under his breath, “And this is why I don’t get involved with women long term.”

Jill wasn’t sure if he realized he’d spoken out loud, but she ignored his comment. Her Internet research made mention of his numerous women, and how he’d avoided the altar. No more detail than the bare minimum, but his little confession clued her in more than he probably intended.

“Gina is right about one thing. We do have a history. But
history
is the operative word.”

Was she supposed to probe for more information or sit there and hope he elaborated? She opted to wait. He ran his hand through his already tousled hair. So adorable, she wanted to comfort him, ease his pain.

“I met Gina about the time things at Castle Engineering started to turn around. She has a keen sense of sound, especially when it involves money and bank vaults.” He chuckled, but it lacked humor. “Back then the dazzling Gina had long, flowing black hair that matched her eyes and a seductive body and voice that could lead a man by the nose off the side of a cliff.”

Jill swallowed hard at the pain in his voice. Not much about the woman had changed, besides hair color. She’d hurt Chet. Deeply.

“I fell for her hard. So hard, it’s embarrassing.”

So embarrassing, he would never let himself repeat it.

“My family saw right through her, but I didn’t listen. Didn’t want to. I couldn’t believe someone so remarkable bothered to give me the time of day, let alone agreed to marry me.”

Her heart slid to her stomach at that word bridging him to Gina.

“Then I found out almost everything that crossed her delectable lips were lies.”

“How?”

“Accident and luck. One of the suppliers for a project I was working on happened to be her
first
husband. He was very informative, thought it particularly funny when he found out we were engaged. Even shared how her family disowned her years before for her antics and lies.”

Jill’s heart slipped past her thighs to settle awkwardly in her knees, making it hard to remain standing. She sat with a thump on the wooden barstool by the counter.

“From there, I did a bit of investigating. Found out she had been married twice, engaged a few more times than that, and, unlike the fake degree framed in her apartment showing she’d graduated with honors from Yale in business, she’d actually dropped out of school her junior year.”

“Of college?”

“High school.”

“Oh.” This explained why he’d avoided the altar, or having a relationship that lasted any longer than the shelf life of a head of lettuce. Guilt washed over her for doubting him, for not listening to her inner voice. That voice had never led her astray.

Couple his involvement with Gina and his dealings with a few bad business partners and it was no wonder he had trust issues.

Her stomach tensed with nervous pressure, and for the third time today she fought the urge to lose her lunch. She wrapped her arms around her middle to ease the gurgling.

At least she had a better understanding of the man. Now she could deal with her own self doubts about what had happened between them. She squashed the urge to take him in her arms and give him a hug, rub the tension from his shoulders and back. That’d be a huge mistake. Instead, she stepped off the stool and walked behind the counter, separating them.

“I’m sorry, Chet.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“I think everyone has had some hard knocks in the relationship department.”

“You?”

“Of course. I’ve dated my share of jerks. I seem to be a magnet for men who don’t have a job or any ambition to get one. I mean, I’ve never been so deep into a relationship to consider marriage. I think Mel would’ve jolted me back to reality. None of the men in my life have been marriage material.” She forced a laugh, but he merely smiled.

“I don’t see the need to get married. It serves no purpose.”

“I don’t agree. There’s nothing better than having someone special to share your life with. Good and bad. After a long hard day, it’d be great to come home…” What the hell was she doing sharing her deepest thoughts with this man? She might as well tell him outright she crushed on him.

This man didn’t believe in commitment, let alone crushes and falling in love. She’d have more luck convincing a room full of bankers to give her a loan.

“You sound like my mother.”

“How’s that?”

“She’d have me believe relationships are all fuzzy kittens and fairy tales.” Soft lines etched the corners of his eyes, accentuating their deep color. Tendrils of hair fell across his forehead from the many times his fingers brushed through it. His normal immaculate style, a boyish contradiction of soft curls. “Sounds like you and she can compare notes this coming Sunday.”

Jill stood straight, shoulders back. “Sunday?”

“Sunday brunch this weekend.”

“Um…what?” She had no desire to get her feelings more involved with this man by meeting his family. If she liked his mother and his father half as much as she liked
him,
she’d be a goner for sure.

“It’s one afternoon. You can do it.” He cleared his throat. “Now that you know my intimate details of love and disaster, will you open the box?”

She dropped back to reality with an inner groan, then grinned. Chet rocked—ever so slightly—on the balls of his feet as he waited for her to lift the lid.