Body Heat (10 page)
Authors: Susan Fox
Today, he wore work clothes. Disreputable jeans that were so ripped it was a wonder they held together. A gray tank top with tears of its own. The top was tucked into his jeans, but he wasn’t wearing a belt as he had yesterday. A sweat band held back his hair. There was no sign of the leather jacket. Today’s style was early Rambo. He looked even more the male animal today than yesterday, if such a thing were possible.
She watched for a few minutes, telling herself she was just doing her job as a supervisor, but she kept remembering this morning’s dream and comparing the dream image to the man who labored in the garden. Had she underestimated the muscles of his chest? Did he have more or less hair than she’d imagined?
Her cheeks, her whole body, burned. Was it hot in here or what? She peeled off her cardigan and fanned her hand briskly in front of her face.
One thing she knew for sure, Jesse Blue sure as heck wouldn’t know who Titania was. She laughed. What an idiotic dream! Even down to the no-name cat and the lacy bra.
She forced her eyes away from Jesse and got going on her budget presentation for the Board meeting.
“Maura,” a female voice spoke from the doorway, “please excuse me for interrupting.”
She glanced up. “Yes, Ming-mei?”
The receptionist was always so serious and diligent. Maura respected her and recognized a kindred spirit. She wondered if it bothered the young woman that people liked effervescent Gracie better than her. Or did Ming-mei even notice?
“Mrs. Wolchuk is here. She’d like to have another tour.”
The woman, in her early seventies Maura recalled, was trying to decide whether the time had come to leave the house she’d lived in for almost fifty years. This would be her third tour of Cherry Lane. Clearly, it was a tough decision, as it was for many seniors.
“Do you have time to show her around?” Maura asked.
“Yes, of course, but she’s brought her dog.”
Aagh
. Cherry Lane allowed pets only in the one room that was used for animal-assisted therapy. While a number of the residents loved animals, many others suffered from allergies. “I’ll come talk to her and we’ll figure out what to do.”
. Cherry Lane allowed pets only in the one room that was used for animal-assisted therapy. While a number of the residents loved animals, many others suffered from allergies. “I’ll come talk to her and we’ll figure out what to do.”
Maura grabbed her cardigan and walked to the reception area with Ming-mei. Mrs. Wolchuk was a fluffy little person with shaggy white hair and a fringed ivory shawl, and her dog was a fluffy little creature, too. They made a cute pair. “It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Wolchuk. But I thought you knew, you can’t bring your dog here.”
“I know I can’t if I move here. But it was such a nice day, I walked here, and Boopsy needed the exercise, too.” She leaned down to pat the dog, and it looked up at her adoringly, brown bug-eyes peeping out from its mop of hair.
Maura sighed. Louise—or even Gracie—would have known what to do. She glanced at Ming-mei, who shrugged helplessly.
Inspiration struck. “Let’s put Boopsy in the courtyard. It’s enclosed. There’s a gardener working there. Jesse can make sure she . . . he? . . . comes to no harm.”
“She,” Mrs. Wolchuk said. “That’s fine, dear.”
“Good. Ming-mei, would you—”
“Ming-mei!” someone called. “Could you come help?”
They all swung around and Maura saw Mr. Chen’s daughter struggling to fold up his wheelchair. The middle-aged woman always picked up her dad and took him home for the day on Sundays.
If Maura offered to help, she could avoid Jesse a while longer.
The mature person never shirks responsibility
. Her parents were right. She needed to act like a general manager, not a coward. “You go and help,” she told Ming-mei resignedly. “I’ll look after Mrs. Wolchuk and Boopsy.”
The mature person never shirks responsibility
. Her parents were right. She needed to act like a general manager, not a coward. “You go and help,” she told Ming-mei resignedly. “I’ll look after Mrs. Wolchuk and Boopsy.”
She led the woman and her dog toward the courtyard. Steeling herself, she opened the door and stepped down, turning to steady the woman who followed her. Then she gritted her teeth, straightened her spine, and faced Jesse.
He must not have heard the door open, because he was bending over, flipping the turf he’d removed and laying it back down, soil side up. She walked closer, admiring the view. He really did have a great backside. The tank top had pulled out of his jeans, baring a patch of brown skin at his waist.
Her fingers twitched restlessly and she laced them firmly together. She shouldn’t be noticing Jesse’s butt, or that bare skin. “Jesse?”
He froze, then slowly straightened and turned toward her.
“Good morning.” She forced herself to look him in the eyes, aware that her cheeks must be bright pink. Maybe he’d just think she was incredibly sensitive to the sun.
He seemed to be avoiding her own eyes as he muttered, “Mornin’.” He rubbed a gloved hand across his jaw, leaving a smear of dirt.
Her hand itched to wipe it away, and she clenched her fingers together more tightly. Of course, she told herself, the urge was only because she abhorred mess, not because she wanted to touch his brown skin. She tilted her head toward the visitor. “Mrs. Wolchuk is taking a look at Cherry Lane. I thought we could leave Boopsy out here.”
Until she said the dog’s name again, she hadn’t realized how silly it was.
His eyes met hers for the first time. He raised an eyebrow. “Boopsy.” His voice was almost level, but there was a hint of something in it that told her he was suppressing a laugh.
Hearing the ridiculous name spoken in that gravelly voice made her want to chuckle too, but she held it in. “Yes, Boopsy.”
“Uh-huh.” He studied the dog.
What a mismatched pair they were, the ball of white fluff and the tall, rugged gypsy with his gold earring. Then Jesse squatted down, removed a glove, and held out his hand for the dog to sniff. “Hey,
Boopsy
. Want to hang out with me?”
Boopsy
. Want to hang out with me?”
Each time one of them said the dog’s name, Maura’s urge to laugh grew stronger. She sensed it was the same with him, and couldn’t resist saying, “You take good care of
Boopsy
now.”
Boopsy
now.”
He made a choked sound, quickly raised one hand to shield his face, and looked up at Maura. His eyes, above the hand, danced with glee.
Glee so infectious that she grinned at him.
His eyes sparkled, and for a long moment their gazes held.
Then Boopsy yapped, demanding attention.
Maura caught her breath, forcing her attention away from Jesse to the dog. Her heart raced. For that little space in time, she’d forgotten who he was—a criminal; a super-hot guy; the person she was supervising—and dropped her guard. And they’d connected. Really connected. In a way she rarely did with people.
It was a small thing, really. Just shared humor over the dog’s silly name. It shouldn’t feel significant, and yet it did.
That person is not our type.
Agnes and Timothy had said it about Sally, and they’d feel even more strongly about Jesse.
Agnes and Timothy had said it about Sally, and they’d feel even more strongly about Jesse.
Disconcerted, she turned her attention to Mrs. Wolchuk and said briskly, “So you’re seriously considering moving to Cherry Lane?”
“Maybe, but I don’t know what I’d do without my Boopsy.”
Maura, who had never had a pet, couldn’t relate personally, but she did sympathize. “How old is she?”
“Nine. She’s still got a number of good years.”
And yet the dog was old enough that it would be hard to find another home for her if Mrs. Wolchuk moved to Cherry Lane.
“Do you have any pets, dear?” the elderly woman asked.
“I’m not allowed to in the building I live in.”
Jesse gave a low snort and Maura glared at him, wondering what his problem was. That moment of connection was clearly a thing of the past—if he’d even felt it in the first place. “Mrs. Wolchuk,” she said with saccharine sweetness, “this is Jesse Blue. Jesse, do you have any pets?”
“I’m not home much.”
She wrinkled her nose. He probably had a bevy of beauties who invited him over for home-cooked meals in exchange for mind-blowing sex. No, she—not Jesse—was the one who could use a little companionship at home.
Pets take over your life
. That was what her parents had said, and they hadn’t believed her when she’d sworn that she’d do all the caring-for. Lonely so much of the time in their big apartment, she’d pleaded first for a puppy, then for a kitten. She’d have been willing to compromise on almost anything—a hamster, budgie, even a turtle—but they had never agreed. After a while she’d stopped asking, then even thinking about pets.
. That was what her parents had said, and they hadn’t believed her when she’d sworn that she’d do all the caring-for. Lonely so much of the time in their big apartment, she’d pleaded first for a puppy, then for a kitten. She’d have been willing to compromise on almost anything—a hamster, budgie, even a turtle—but they had never agreed. After a while she’d stopped asking, then even thinking about pets.
It was true that her apartment building didn’t allow dogs and cats, but if she wanted, she could have a bird. Perhaps a parrot, a bird that spoke. A voice to greet her when she came home, to fill the empty silence of her apartment. She’d lived so much of her life with silence, and the thought of a voice—even a bird’s voice—was appealing.
She shook her head to clear it and returned her attention to Mrs. Wolchuk. “Let’s go inside and Ming-mei will give you a tour.”
After getting Mrs. Wolchuk set, Maura returned to her office and got on with her work. It was perhaps half an hour later when she glanced out the window to see Boopsy barrel across the grass to Jesse and drop something at his feet. Maura squinted. It was his glove. Jesse picked up the glove and hurled it across the courtyard. The dog took off after it, her furry little legs flying.
Maura chuckled and shook her head. If Jesse Blue got blisters, he couldn’t blame it on her.
“How’s my Boopsy?” Mrs. Wolchuk, who’d returned to the courtyard looking sad-faced, asked Jesse.
“Happy to see you, from the sounds of it.”
The woman leaned down and gathered the barking dog into her arms. Boopsy squirmed excitedly and, as the woman tried to kiss the animal’s face, the dog got in a few licks of her own. When Mrs. Wolchuk put her pet back down, Boopsy bounced around on her hind feet.
Jesse smiled. In their case, owner and dog really did look alike. He retrieved his work glove from where the dog had dropped it, straightened, and put it back on. “How’d the tour go?”
A frown tightened the elderly woman’s face, but before she could answer, his boss called, “Mrs. Wolchuk?”
He turned, to see her striding toward them. When Maura had first come into the garden this morning, his mind was still so full of last night’s wild fantasies that he’d been unable to meet her eye. But then they’d started joking about the dog’s name, and she’d become . . . human. Nice. Something had happened between them, and he’d liked it. For that moment before she’d gone all cool and businesslike again.
He liked how she looked, too. She was all buttoned up, but today she wore a skirt that revealed damned fine legs, and her cardigan was the green of aspen leaves.
Man, she was sexy. Consuela’s clothes were way tighter, but there was something about the way that sweater just skimmed Maura’s breasts. It didn’t cling, the neckline wasn’t low, yet it left no doubt about the curvy female flesh beneath it.
Oh, Jesus, he was getting hard again.
He dropped to his knees, pulled off his gloves, and ruffled the little dog’s fluffy coat. Boopsy gave a pleased yip and licked his hand.
“Did you enjoy your tour?” Maura asked the old lady.
A note of concern in her voice made him look up, and he saw it echoed in her expression.
Mrs. Wolchuk sighed heavily. “This is a nice place, but it’s not home. Besides, I’ll have to give up Boopsy if I come here. I can’t bear it.”
“So don’t move,” Jesse said.
Maura frowned at him, and Mrs. Wolchuk shook her head. “I don’t want to, but my house is starting to fall down around me.”
Those few words gave him a good idea of the whole picture. Alone in the world, or with kids who couldn’t be bothered to help. No money to hire people to fix her house. It was a damned shame. “That’s too bad,” he muttered.
“It’s a fine house,” she told him eagerly. “Only a few blocks away. The white one with green trim over on Linden Street. Do you know it?”
When he shook his head, she went on. “I raised two children in that house. Celebrated forty-five anniversaries before Albert passed away. Now it’s just Boopsy and me, but it’s still home.”
Jesse figured that if he ever had a real home, he’d be pretty damned reluctant to give it up, too.
Maybe after work he’d ride by Mrs. Wolchuk’s house. See how bad it was. There might be something he could do. On his construction job, scraps of lumber and other odds and ends were often left over. And he had lots of connections in the industry, could get stuff at wholesale prices. He could do the work himself. Like he’d told Maura Mahoney, he was good with his hands.
Mrs. Wolchuk kneeled down beside Jesse, not caring if her tan pants got grass-stained. She stroked the dog and Boopsy lapped her hand affectionately.
Jesse sat on the grass hugging his knees, watching the two of them. Sure would be nice if the old gal didn’t have to part with her dog.
Maura bent down to pat Boopsy. She seemed hesitant at first, then more enthusiastic as the fluffball squirmed happily at her touch. The dog rewarded her with a couple of healthy licks. She jerked her hand back.
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