Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select) (13 page)

Lesson Number Thirteen —

Sometimes you have to give your man distance and let him go. If he cares for you, loves you, he will come back stronger and more willing to stay the course.

Chapter Fifteen

L
ila’s world would never be the same. Not after coming home, not after truly seeing him in the flesh after so long, and not after being in his arms and experiencing how good they could still be together.

“Jake?” He’d come back in after stepping outside to make some calls.

He looked up, wary after their argument.

Why did she do this to herself? To them? She loved him, and despite his behavior, she thought he loved her, too. They just needed to get past the doubts, the second-guessing, and acknowledge the uncertain future. Together.

He met her halfway. “Yeah?”

“Do you think these stairs are safe?”

He slipped a pad and pen into his back pocket and headed for the staircase, steering a path well around her.

Stop it, Jake!
she wanted to scream.
I’m not the enemy.
But she simply stood there with her mouth firmly shut and watched as he mounted the steps.

“Wait until I’m at the top and then you can follow me.”

He made it to the top and pushed open the door. Light spilled into the darkened stairwell and Lila could see a hall running perpendicular to the stairs.

“You can come up. If it’s too hot in here for you, it’s going to get a helluva lot hotter up here. We can do this later if you want.”

“No, I’m coming.” Once in the hallway upstairs, Jake moved ahead of her, opening doors and checking out each room before he would let her wander in.

It was definitely hotter up here, but several of the windows were either broken or warped open, and a hot Central Texas breeze moved the dust around on the wooden floors as she peered in.

“Looks like the standard, run-down old brick two-story from the turn of the century. Nothing special.”

She glanced from the window to find Jake examining the antiquated wiring in the hall. He pulled a tool from his belt and lifted the plate off a broken light fixture, totally engrossed in being Mr. Fix-It.

It did look like an inspector’s worst nightmare, but she could see the potential in the solid structure with its wide-open rooms and tall ceilings.

And she needed this place. Needed it like nothing she’d ever done before. If she wanted to make a fresh start in Hannington, she needed a residence, a business, and a project.

Miss Pru’s was all of that. And something else, too. Lila couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she needed to restore the old place to its former glory.

By doing so, she would restore the reputation of generations of Gentry women.

“It’s going to be a bear of a renovation, and once we get into it, the cost could go through the roof. Literally.” He dropped corroded bits of wiring on the floor and jammed his tool back into the case he carried on his belt.

He reached a hand out and brushed her cheek. “Lila, honey, I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

She leaned into the caress, not a lot, but enough to feel the rub of his calloused palm on her skin.

God. What she wouldn’t do to crawl into his embrace and stay for eternity.

But then she pulled back, aware of the chemistry that at the moment seemed to be nothing but trouble between them. Sex, they were good at. Love, they were not.

“Jake, I’m a big girl now. Let me worry about what’s good for me.”

A rush of air swooped through the windows and rustled his hair, sending a lock spilling across his forehead. His eyes were a vibrant green in the diluted light.

Lila wanted to brush his soft hair back and cradle his face in her hands like she used to.

But maybe it was time to stop thinking of old times, and plan for the future.

“I’ll make some calls and get some people down here.” She pushed the anxiety down, so far down it made her feet feel like lead as she moved past Jake and headed for the stairs. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I bothered you with this.”

“Why are you being so damn obstinate about this?”

She reached the top step and headed down. “Why do you care? I let you off the hook.”

Y
eah, off the hook was good. So why did his conscience keep yelling “backstabbing bastard” in his ear?

“Look, Lila, I said I’d do it and I will.” Aw, hell. Shut up, idiot, before you promise her an early deadline. “And I’ll have it done before Christmas.”

She turned at the bottom of the staircase, her raised eyebrows letting him know in no uncertain terms she thought he smelled like a liar.

“Truly. I’ll do it. But it’s going to be expensive. If you’re willing to lay out a few hundred grand, then I’ll keep my mouth shut and do the work. I’d be stupid not to.”

Her tight-lipped smile said she agreed.

If he knew her like he thought he did, then a big hot fudge sundae should put her in a better mood and say sorry better than anything. Well, almost better than anything.

“Come on.” He led the way to the front door, refusing to listen to the voice that urged him to let her go and hire somebody else. “We’re going to Miller’s Drive-In for some ice cream.

“Your treat?” she said skeptically when he stopped to look back at her.

He tried to appear offended. “Of course. I invited you, didn’t I?”

“Hmmm,” she said as she breezed past him and out the door.

Jake parked in the weathered and pothole-ridden lot next to Miller’s. The five-hundred-square-foot ice cream shop had the ignored, vintage shabby chic look that was so popular in small-town America. It had operated in Hannington since he turned seven and he, and every other kid in town, had spent every spare penny on ice cream, root beer, and cheap hamburgers.

“God, Old Man Miller’s still running this place? He must be eighty by now,” Lila said, squinting through the dusty windshield to the line of children and adults outside Miller’s.

“He only works the holidays. Ernie, his son, has taken over and handles the business.”

They left the air-conditioned cocoon of the truck to stand in line behind a woman with three small children, the youngest a hyperactive three-year-old who kept running through the tunnel of his mother’s legs.

Jake began to have second thoughts about bringing Lila to Miller’s when Otis pulled up in his wreck of a 1977 Dodge truck. Nearly all of the pea-green paint had been beaten off the thing by the summer sun, and now the vehicle resembled more a sick dog on its last leg than a truck.

“Hey, how y’all doin’?” Otis said as he emerged from the cab and ambled to their spot in line.

“Good, now that Jake has agreed to keep his comments and advice to himself and do the work I’m paying him for.”

Otis blew out a heavy breath and looked at Jake. Maybe the old fart was on his side for once?

“Ah, now, Lila. You can’t keep a man from speakin’ his mind when he needs to,” Otis chastised with a wink to her and a shift to his good leg.

“I can when he’s the hired help.”

Otis shrugged and gave Jake a sympathetic smile.

Nope, he stuck to Lila’s side like they were related.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, shading her eyes as the sun reflected off Miller’s front window. “I thought you’d been advised against eating sugar.”

Otis had been borderline diabetic for a while, and the doc had told him recently to lay off the sweets and carbs and watch his diet.

“Ernie makes a special sugar-free smoothie for me. And I already cleared it with my doctor,” he told her when she frowned.

“That reminds me, Jake. I ran into Rogers’s wife and she said she’s been trying to get you on the phone for the last two days. Something about a change in your appointment. Been moved to the teaching hospital in Temple.”

Shit
. And he thought they’d left behind this conversation at Miss Pru’s. He looked over at Lila, who didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Her eyes were filled with compassion and empathy.

The mother in front of them finally stepped away with her now-quiet trio, all focused on eating their ice cream.

“Jake? Talk to me,” she said finally. “Have they found something?”

“It’s a routine visit. Nothing to worry about.” He nodded to Ernie, who waited patiently while a fan blew over his head, moving the ends of his overgrown hair against his baseball jersey that proclaimed him “Coach.”

He watched as Ernie leaned farther out of his window to hear the conversation.

“Sorry, Jake,” Otis said, having the decency to appear contrite.

He had a feeling Otis wasn’t truly sorry, but he would be later when he got him alone.

“Why are you going to Scott & White hospital? Sounds more serious than a screening.”

Jake felt eyes on his back. There were people behind them in line. Watching. Listening.

“Dammit, Lila. It’s nothing. Now order your ice cream so Ernie can pull his body back inside to the air-conditioning.”

She spun around, coming face-to-face with Miller’s new manager.

“It is routine, you know. My sister goes in every year for a screening. Nothing to get upset about. And if you are, one of my hot fudge sundaes with extra hot fudge and nuts should cheer ya up.”

Ernie disappeared back inside Miller’s and the sound of tin container tops being overturned drifted out to their ears.

Lila turned back around, her mouth hanging open. “Why does Ernie know more about this than me?”

His patience was at an end, like this conversation. “Because he lives here. You don’t.”

She recoiled like he’d slapped her.

Otis shuffled his feet on the sidewalk.

Well, hell
. And here he’d been trying to lift her from an already-foul mood.

“I don’t really feel like ice cream right now. Otis, will you see she gets back to her car?”

Otis nodded.

“Jake—”

But he didn’t stick around long enough for her to finish. He jumped inside his truck and slammed the door, keeping his gaze off the crowd staring at him.

Lesson Number Fourteen —

Explore your feelings. The better you know yourself, the better you can express yourself to your man. This will help you avoid saying words out of anger, which are the hardest words of all to take back.

Chapter Sixteen

J
ake slammed into the trailer, throwing his utility belt on the shabby pile of cushions on legs that served as a couch. He’d had his trusty old job site trailer moved to Lila’s building today and just in time, because he needed something out of the fridge.

“There better be a goddamn beer in here.” He jerked the door open to find not just the two beers and leftover pizza he knew to be there, but a fridge stocked with more food than a cooler of its size deserved.

He took in the bottled juices and waters, the bags of fresh fruit, the cut vegetables and the sandwich meat. “What the hell…?”

Who had been in here? And why?

He had a suspicion.

He surveyed the trailer more patiently, looking for signs of an unwanted presence. Nope, the trailer was exactly as he’d left it this morning when he’d moved it, dingy but serviceable.

With the exception of the fridge full of his favorite snack foods.

He looked for the beer and found it in the inside door. At least she hadn’t thrown it out. If she was going to invade his life and drop little surprises like this, she better have the decency to leave the beer.

Jake ripped the cap off and collapsed onto the couch. The rickety wood frame groaned under his weight, but held together. Barely.

He was about to down half the bottle when he noticed his running shoes lined up neatly near the wall next to the trailer door.

He didn’t remember leaving his running shoes here. They should be at home, on the floor next to his shorts and T-shirt that needed to be washed. He had a system, and the shoes being here instead of there was not part of the system.

Had Lila gone in his house? He maintained a tradition of keeping people the hell out of his house. It was the one place where he could kick back and be whoever he wanted to be, in whatever mood he felt like. But somehow the thought didn’t make him as angry as he knew it should have.

He probably felt forgiving with the prospect of so much food in his little dumpy trailer.

His looked for the familiar bloodstain on the toe of the left shoe, courtesy of a barbed-wire fence slapping him on the knee a couple of months ago. It wasn’t there.

Setting the still full beer aside, he retrieved his sneakers and looked closer at the mesh fabric. They were spotless. Like new.

He flipped the shoes over, searching for the growing hole in the soft tread that should be where his big toe pounded the pavement each morning.

No hole. In fact, the tread was fresh and unmarred.

His blood rushed in his ears.

Lila.

Lila had taken the time to stock his fridge and mend his favorite pair of running shoes. She had invaded his privacy, true, but she hadn’t blustered in changing things around, cleaning up after him like a wife.

She’d gone for subtle things. Things that meant a lot to Jake, but that he never found the time to do for himself.

Shit. And he had been doing so good without her.

Hadn’t he?

L
ila examined the exterior brick of Miss Pru’s house for signs of settling. Ordinarily, the weather-sensitive ground shifted building foundations in Texas so cracks—and sometimes severe movement—jeopardized the security of the structure.

Miss Pru’s looked solid, with enough corner joints to allow for the expansion and retraction of the brick at various times of the year.

She wished her heart had the same capabilities.

“Tough ole gal,” she said affectionately, patting the pitted surface of the sandstone-colored brick. Heat seeped into her palm, and for an instant Lila imagined she could feel the heart of the building beating faintly, like a slumbering giant.

“I’m not sure if you’re referring to yourself or the building here.” A familiar voice, full of amusement, caught her off guard, causing her to spin on the heels of her leather sneakers.

“Mark! What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Dallas?” She couldn’t believe he stood there, on a dusty patch of alley sprouting with scraggly milkweed and cigarette butts, looking as fresh and cool as he typically did back in a swanky Dallas martini bar.

“Your progress reports were rather disappointing in their detail. I mean, I know all about your grandmother, but honey, what about this man? This Jake?” He waved an arm, the cuff of his exquisitely wrinkled linen shirt making slow circles in imitation of his grand gesture.

She threw a hurried glance around the alley, looking for signs of Jake’s truck. She hadn’t seen him since he left the ice cream stand hours ago. She’d done a bit of shopping for him and with Casler’s help, had his running shoes repaired. A subtle
I’m sorry
without the mess of actually saying it.

John Casler may grow on her yet. They had one thing in common anyway: Jake.

But now, her unspoken wish had been fulfilled. A dear friend when she needed one the most.

The urge to leap into his arms and be comforted like a little girl raged in her heart. If one person, one friend, could make everything seem all right when it surely was not, Mark was that friend.

Lila sobered. He didn’t come all the way out here to nowhere Hannington to check up on her. Did he?

She watched his worried glances, his appraising stare. He would, thank God. That’s what friends were for.

She threw another look down the alley, but there wasn’t any sign of the red-and-white Chevy or Jake.

Lila stepped into Mark, wrapping her arms around his torso. It felt so good to be held in a man’s arms. Even if that man wasn’t the least bit interested in her.

“Hey there, girl. Are you okay?” He hugged her and rocked her briefly, pushing her back so he could stare down into her eyes. “It’s as I thought. There’s more to this matter with Jake than you’d admit.”

“Well, of course there’s more. But I’m not going to tell you about it over the phone. Besides, you shouldn’t be worrying about me—you should be taking care of my business while I’m away.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and propelled her out of the alley, toward the front of the store and into the shade. Lila fell in beside him easily enough, even though he stood a good six inches taller than her, with a longer stride to match.

“Your business is fine. Good, in fact, despite that asshole in Austin raising a ruckus. But you’re not.”

When they reached the front of the store, Lila sank down onto the freshly polished oak bench she’d placed out front earlier in the day. The heat had warmed the wood and it penetrated her cotton overalls as she sat.

Beads of sweat popped up on her brow, beneath the fringe of bang that had fallen loose of her ponytail. “Mark, I know you mean well, and I am so glad to see you, but everything is fine. I’m having a grand time with this old building, visiting my grandmother has been the best, and frankly, I couldn’t be happier.” She forced cheer into her voice, pushing back the emotion that threatened to spill whenever she lied.

She mustered up the courage to look over at his face as he sat down next to her on the bench. She took in his profile: a smooth cheek, strong nose, and square jaw.

He looked off in the direction of the Curl ’n Swirl. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all. Lying to her best friend.

“You want to go grab some lemonade and I’ll take you on a tour of Miss Pru’s?”

When he didn’t answer, Lila nudged him with an elbow. “Aren’t you curious to see my new baby?” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, pointing inside the dirty window.

Mark glared off into the distance, creases forming around his normally smiling eyes.

Lila followed his gaze, but all she saw were people hurrying in and out of the grocery store, their arms loaded with purses or sacks, or both. Everything as it should be.

Maybe Mark had never seen an IGA before. They definitely didn’t have them in Dallas.

“Mark, you up for some lemonade and a tour?”

He tore his gaze away from whatever fascinated him and glanced quickly at her before resuming his watch. “Sure. I’ll go get it. Why don’t you head inside and I’ll bring it over?”

He flew off the bench and tore down the steps, jogging across the street. Fortunately, there was little traffic, because Mark never stopped to look.

What the heck had gotten into him? First he showed up unannounced, demanded explanations, and then fled like the hounds of hell nipped at his heels.

Men. She couldn’t understand them. Even when they were gay.

J
ake threw his truck into park and leaned over the wheel, watching the polished man who had previously been hugging Lila walk his away.

He’d started down the alley minutes ago to meet her, a mixture of dread and anticipation warring in his gut, but when he spied her wrapped around another man, he had sat for a moment. He didn’t know if he should be angry she could be proclaiming her love for him one minute, and the next, hopping in the arms of another.

But then he realized he should be happy. She’d found someone else. He didn’t have to convince his wife life would be better without him anymore.

So he’d left the lovers to themselves and come over to the IGA because he had nothing else to do and time to kill before he trotted back across the street and acted none the wiser.

Just as he decided, yeah, he should feel relieved, he spotted the lucky man walking over to his truck. Lila sat on the bench in front of the store, staring in their direction.

“I take it you are Jake Winter,” the man said, easing up to the door of Jake’s truck with an easy grace he didn’t normally see in other men. “Or some degenerate who likes to spy on unknowing women.”

When Jake simply raised his eyebrows in calm response, the man smiled.

“The strong, silent type. You
must
be Jake.”

Lila had been talking about him to this guy? “And you are?” he asked.

“Mark—the coworker and sometimes overnight guest.”

Jake gritted his teeth. They’d broken the ice fast. “So you drove all the way to Hannington to stay overnight? It’s going to be crowded over there at Lila’s grandmother’s.”

He’d swear the other man’s eyes sparkled.

“The more the merrier, I think, although I hear you like it nice and simple. Haven’t you heard, my friend: one is the loneliest number?”

The conversation weirded Jake out. He didn’t know whether to kick Mark’s ass or brush his arm off the truck door and drive away laughing.

He slid a glance to Lila calmly sitting on the bench outside her building. This guy meant something to her. What, he didn’t know. So he’d play nice and give Mark the message meant for Lila.

“I think,
Mark
, you might have the wrong idea about me. Lila and I are estranged. Meaning, we no longer live together, sleep together”—he’d pay for that lie somewhere down the road—“play house together, or anything proper married couples do. So if you’re looking for my permission to chase Lila, consider it granted.”

Mark leveled his cool amber eyes on Jake. He read a protectiveness there, speaking volumes of his relationship with her. Yeah, once upon a time, he, too, had wanted to protect her with his life. But when a man didn’t have a life to offer, the point was sorta moot.

“You really this backcountry dumb?”

“What?” Jake croaked.

Mark narrowed his eyes as if inspecting an insect pinned in a display case. “I’ve always heard about redneck dumb, but growing up in Dallas, I didn’t come across it often. Inner-city prejudice and narrow-minded, bigoted rich assholes, yeah, but I’ve never met an honest-to-God country dumb. I’m simply trying to determine if you’re really this stupid, or pretending.”

Jake pushed open the door of his truck, forcing Mark back three steps. He slammed the door behind him and looked down on Mark, who held his ground like a fierce, manicured show dog.

He couldn’t kick Mark’s ass; it wouldn’t be a fair fight. But Christ, did this guy never give up? What more did he want Jake to say? He’d handed Lila over on a silver freakin’ platter.

“We may be backcountry dumb out here in the sticks, Mark, but we can still recognize when a man is asking to have the shit beat out of him.”

“The potential for a fight seems to be the only thing to rouse you. From the stories I’ve heard, you used to be roused in other ways.”

Words clogged in his throat like cars during rush hour. “
What?
”

“Hard of hearing, too? So we’ve established you’re blind, backcountry dumb, violent, and now, hard of hearing. So, okay, even though you are extremely easy on the eyes, I can see why Lila left you. Too many deficits.”

He grabbed the front of Mark’s neatly pressed shirt and dragged him close so they stared more or less eye to eye. “I think you’d better drive back to Dallas while you still have the use of your arms and legs. The scenery’s not as pretty from the back of an ambulance.”

“Oh, but Jake, darling, everything we want to see is right here. Now that Lila’s back. Isn’t that the point of this entire display?”

Jake heard her crossing the parking lot and turned to watch her running toward them, a look of complete horror on her face.

“What the hell is going on?” she yelled, skidding to a stop.

Jake released his shirt and Mark regained his composure instantly, grabbing Lila’s forearm as she leaned into him for balance. A friendly gesture. A comfortable gesture. Intimate, dammit.

A pain, something like a knife thrust, slid into Jake’s side and stayed, sending bursts of torture radiating up through his heart.

“Honey, we are talking man to man. And sometimes, men have to talk with their whole bodies.”

Lila looked from Mark to Jake and then back to Mark.

“Well, are you done? Because there are things Jake needs to do on my building.”

Had he just been a part of this very weird exchange?

Give up. It’s easier, man
.

With a slow exhale, Jake shook his head and left the pair standing in the parking lot of the IGA while he crossed the street.

Sometimes surrender made sense.