End of Day (Jack & Jill #1) (5 page)

“It is if you spent most of your senior year in high school being jacked off by your personal trainer.”

“She wasn’t a personal trainer, she was a P.E. teacher.” Jillian laughed. “And don’t act like you didn’t like it. Luke said it’s probably what started your older woman fetish.”

“Nice to know you kept that shit confidential.”

They both paused for a moment. Just the mention of his name sucked the air out of the room, even in their inebriated state.

Jackson held out Jillian’s hat. “Go.”

Jillian grinned as she read the paper. “Pampered Chef? Is that company still in business?”

“Absolutely. Then maybe you’d learn to cook.”

“Not happening. Next.”

Jackson drew. “Piano teacher?”

“You’d be great at it!”

“No jobs with kids.”

“It’s a half hour lesson, not a commitment to be their big brother. Anyway, you could always teach adults.”

Jackson shook his head while Jillian took her turn.

“Sex toy party consultant.” Jillian raised a lone brow. “These home party jobs are usually evening work. Why don’t I just turn tricks? The pay would be better.”

“Patience. You still have two more options.”

Jillian kicked his shin. “Prostitute is one of the last two options, isn’t it?”

Jackson snickered. “My turn.” He fished a piece of paper from the hat. “Discount mattress store mascot?”

“Yes. You’ve seen them—the guys that dress up in a mattress costume and stand on the street corner. I bet it would increase your chances of getting laid.”

Jackson took a pull of his beer. “I’ve got Woody, what more could women want?”

Jillian drew again. “A psychic?” She giggled as the endless possibilities played in her mind.

“I knew you’d like that one.”

“I do, but I think it’s best we stick with jobs that won’t have disgruntled customers seeking revenge.”

“You’re probably right. Give me my last choice.” Jackson unfolded the paper. “A prostitute? You bitch! You put that one in
my
hat?”

Jillian hugged her stomach. There was nothing she loved more than getting the best of her brother. “Don’t act all offended. That was basically your life before, I’m just suggesting you get paid for it now.”

“These suck.” Jackson wadded the paper and tossed it back in the hat. “Every single one.”

“Yeah, because my choices are so appealing. Let’s see what your last ingenious idea is.” She pulled the last piece of paper from her hat. “A surrogate? You think I’m going to spend the next ten years, fat, swollen, and pissing my pants every time I laugh?”

Jackson shrugged. “What could be more beautiful than giving the gift of life?”

She flicked the piece of paper at him. “Ending yours, you barnyard masturbating jerk!”

He sighed, eyes red and glassy. “This is fucked. We shouldn’t be doing this. This is our life, we should take it seriously. I want my old job—the one where I’m actually using my computer engineering degree.”

“Join the club. Do you have any idea how many tests I took and how hard I worked … all for nothing. I say we just do it. You start your own business and I’ll start retaking my exams.”

Jackson sighed. “God you’re pathetic. You have a weak moment and I’m there, pulling you back to reality. I have a weak moment and you’re like, ‘Yeah, fuck it, bro, let’s jump off that cliff.’ McGraw said no to anything close to our old professions. It would give us an unnecessary hint of visibility, put us on the radar.”

Jillian slumped in her chair, finishing the last of her beer. “I know, I know. Karma hates us. We shouldn’t even be here, but we are so screw it. Money’s not an issue, so for now I say we live with reckless abandon, shunning all reason and responsibility. Accountability is overrated. Let’s just
be
.”

Jessica and Jude Day had been overachievers in every sense of the word. Could Jillian and Jackson let go of their inner drive for success and just
be
? Not likely, but it was worth a try.

Jackson slid her a pen and piece of paper. “Ok then. You’re right. It’s too hard to choose. So you pick
the
job for me and I’ll pick
the
one for you.”

“Just like that? Out of the five choices I gave you, I get to pick
the
one?”

“Yes. Just like that. And I get to pick yours.”

The Knights stared at each other in a drunken gaze showdown. Luckily choosing random and meaningless professions didn’t require sobriety.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

A
J looked for
every possible excuse to skip the association picnic. He even entertained the idea of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Unfortunately, Cage was still home so he considered any form of self-mutilation to be extreme and a bad example.

“Everyone is going to hound you about the upcoming season and guilt you into getting them tickets for a game.” AJ made his last appeal as he packed their plates and utensils in a brown bag while Cage loaded the cooler.

“What’s your deal? I’m usually being guilted into attending these things.” He laughed at his father’s peculiar mood.

AJ shrugged. “No deal. What’s your deal today? Why are you so enthusiastic about attending a picnic with a bunch of people from your grandparents’ generation?”

“Our new neighbors are close to my age.”

Once. AJ had met her once. Jillian was a goddamn train wreck. He couldn’t get her out of his mind and Cage’s comment only aggravated AJ’s already edgy mood. “No, she’s not.”

“She?”

“They,” AJ corrected. “
They
are older than you.”

“But younger than you. It’s not like they’re old enough to be my parents. I haven’t met them, but they or
she
seemed pretty cool.”

AJ sighed. “You saw her in her underwear.”

“Let me repeat … she seemed pretty cool.” Cage smirked.

“Behave.”

*

AJ cursed God
and the local meteorologists for the blanket of blue sky that kidnapped the seventy percent chance of rain. Cage pulled his red Husker cap over his unkempt blond hair he inherited from his mother—along with his blue eyes—then grabbed the cooler from the back of the truck—sporting a shit-eating grin as the residents of Peaceful Woods greeted him like a celebrity.

Smoke billowed from the large grill as the men huddled around it while the women arranged side dishes on the picnic tables in the pavilion. The glaring contradiction to the scene was Jackson Knight surrounded by the flock of women shoving food at his pretty-boy face as they vied for his attention.

“Sarge, where’s your meat? We’ll throw it on the grill,” Dodge called.

AJ raised his chin. “Cage is getting it.” He grabbed a beer and navigated to the smoke. Cage handed him their brats, and AJ dropped them on the grill next to what he thought looked like the most pathetic excuse for a hot dog ever.

“Watch it, Senior Master Sergeant. I don’t want my Tofurkey dog touching your
big sausage
or I’ll be tasting it all night.”

AJ turned. Jillian peered at him over the frames of her sunglasses that sat low on her nose. Stray hairs from her ponytail whipped in the wind as reckless as the rest of her.

“It’s a bratwurst and what the hell is a Tofurkey dog?” Hidden by his dark aviators, AJ’s eyes roved her pint-sized body barely covered by a strapless sundress that was a good six inches too short. Why did that bother him? Simple. His dick had lost all self-respect.

“I don’t eat meat. It’s tofu.” She winked and pushed her glasses high on her nose.

“My ex-girlfriend is a vegetarian.” Cage managed to physically and verbally squeeze his way into the conversation as he nudged AJ to the side. “Don’t mind my old man, he wouldn’t understand. I think he brushes his teeth with bacon-flavored toothpaste.”

“No. I don’t,” AJ grumbled.

Cage winked. “It’s a joke…” he cupped his hand at his mouth “…but he doesn’t understand what that is either.”

Jillian’s smile grew exponentially as she held out her hand. “Jillian Knight. And you must be the
young
son.”

Cage took her hand with an eagerness that tipped AJ even closer to the edge. “Cage, and yes I’m young, twenty to be exact.” He looked around. “But that’s not saying much with this crowd. I’ll be twenty-one next month.”

“Well, I might have to take you out for a celebratory drink.” Jillian teased the neck of her beer bottle along her blood red painted lower lip.

AJ cleared his throat. “You’re married.”
To your brother, you incestuous whore
.

“I am?” Jillian raised up on her toes and looked around. “Hmm, I don’t see my
husband
. I think we’re good.” She stepped closer to Cage. “It’s just a drink. I’m not going to take your virginity.”

Cage adjusted his hat and AJ suspected that wasn’t all he needed to adjust.

“I’m not a virgin.” Cage wet his lips and chuckled a bit.

Jillian moved her head in a conspiratorial side-to-side glance, then whispered, “Neither am I.”

“Speaking of drinks…” AJ gave Cage a firm squeeze on the shoulder “…why don’t you grab me another beer and go entertain the ladies that I’m sure are dying to chat with you.”

Cage walked off with a quick look back at Jillian.

“Entertain the
ladies
? Am I not a lady?” Jillian sipped her beer.

“No. You’re not.” AJ tried to look anywhere but directly at her.

“Have I done something wrong?”

How was he supposed to answer that question? Especially since she failed to deliver her words with an ounce of give-a-shit. “Do you have any morals?”

She twisted her lips. “I think so, unless they were lost in the move. Why? Do you need to borrow some?”

AJ shook his head. “Just stay away from my son.”

“Is everything okay?” Jackson slid his arm around Jillian.

The roiling in AJ’s stomach intensified, festering like a flesh eating bacteria. “Keep your
wife
away from my son.” He brushed past them, enraged that he was the only one who didn’t think they were God’s gift to Peaceful Woods.

“Here’s your beer.” Cage handed him another can and a plate for food. “Jillian’s—”

“Trouble. Just … keep your distance.” AJ mentally reprimanded himself. Cage was a good kid, but he also had a wild side that was drawn to
trouble
.

“Hey, Sarge.”

“Dodge, good to see you.” AJ smiled. “How’s Lilith?”

“She’s okay. Katie’s been visiting the past week so I’ve been able to sneak out on a few occasions.”

“Any luck finding some part-time help?”

AJ was close to Dodge and Lilith. His father and Dodge had been in the service together then lived next to each other in Portland for years until Dodge was transferred to Omaha. His wife, Lilith, suffered from severe rheumatoid arthritis and Ménière’s disease which required constant supervision.

“Until today, no.”

AJ followed Dodge through the food line. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Jillian.”

AJ paused. “Jillian?”

“Yes, she’s offered to look after Lilith on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.”

“Jillian Knight?”

Dodge laughed. “Yes. What an angel.”

Angel?
AJ had many words to describe his new neighbor, but angel was not one of them. “Doesn’t she have a job?”

“Said she works nights.”

AJ glanced over a few tables at Jillian who sat next to Stan Renner, throwing her head back in laughter as he talked to her using his animated hand gestures. AJ tried to sound casual with his words. “Did she mention what she does at
night
?”

“Hmm … I couldn’t say for sure. Something to do with a private consulting business, personal equipment sales of some sort. I wasn’t following. After she offered to help out with Lilith, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else she said.” Dodge nudged AJ’s elbow and lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s hard to concentrate around her in general. Have you ever seen anything quite like her? She looks like one of them superhero girls straight off the movie screen.”

Superhero—another completely inappropriate word to describe Jillian. AJ had at least a dozen more accurate ones: black widow, serpent, man-eater, mindfuck, wicked, twisted, deceitful, Satan …

“Ya know what’s even better?” Dodge continued as AJ’s mind went where it always did with Jillian—to that very dark place. “She’s offered to help Bill with the mowing while his son’s wife is on bedrest until the twins are born.”

Bill and his son Todd owned a lawn and snow removal business. Since Bill lived at Peaceful Woods, his company was the obvious choice, however, AJ wasn’t fond of his mowing method—scalp the yards so he didn’t have to mow as often. On the flip side, the chemical company they’d hired made more money because the only thing that survived in the lawn after Bill mowed was the weeds.

“Good talking with you, Dodge.” AJ drifted through the rest of the picnic on autopilot, doing what he did best—keeping an eye on the enemy.

The Knights left not long after the meal was over, but AJ and Cage stayed another hour enduring the endless chatter over how wonderful the new neighbors were. AJ lost count of the number of times he had to swallow down his own vomit.

“Oh, Sarge! I forgot to say something to Jillian and Jackson,” Stan called.