If She Dares (Contemporary Romance) (13 page)

“Aren’t twelve-years-olds a bit beyond balloon animals?”

“Not sure it matters since he hasn’t successfully created a single one. Luckily, Juliet said she’d bring a couple of real animals, like a mini petting zoo for the younger cousins. And you’ll be drawing portraits. I know you’re used to basing your sketches off wit statements and not live models, but— What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” Jack ran a hand over his jaw, trying to hide his smile. Thinking about Riley naked probably wasn’t appropriate during a conversation about a birthday party. “Just recalling the last time I drew a picture of an actual model.”

“Well, it’s the first time you’ve smiled all day.” Tony clapped him on the arm. “I’m relieved to see it. If your scowl got any darker, you’d scare the kids.”

“Would that get me out of the party?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Can I bring someone with me?” he asked impulsively.

Tony did a double take. “I don’t get what you mean.”

“My neighbor. The one I was stuck in the elevator with?”

“You want to bring your neighbor to Tessie’s birthday party?”

“Forget I asked.” He didn’t even know what had possessed him, except that Tony was right. Jack had only smiled twice today, just now and earlier when his phone had buzzed and he thought it might be Riley. He’d been bitterly disappointed to see Unknown Name on his screen.

Riley made everything better, so it stood to reason that having her with him would make the interminable tween birthday bash more bearable. “But for the record, she has sisters, and I’m sure she’s participated in plenty of birthday parties. Plus, Juliet really likes her—”

“What about you, big guy?” Tony’s voice was sly. “Do
you
like her?”

“If I disliked her, I wouldn’t want to spend Saturday with her, would I?”

“Is she hot like Celeste?” Tony wanted to know. At Jack’s glare, he shrugged. “I’m married, but I ain’t dead.”

“She’s gorgeous. But nothing like Celeste.” Except that both women were neighbors he’d slept with. He winced.
What happened to learning from your mistakes?

Riley wasn’t a mistake. She was... He didn’t know how to categorize her in a way that didn’t sound crude, but she was special. And she certainly didn’t have Celeste’s crazy vindictive streak. He wasn’t worried about Riley someday ambushing him in the mailroom or slashing his tires in the parking lot.

She was being an adult about their arrangement, and she wasn’t expecting love.
Thank God
. Jack had witnessed so many warped examples of it that he wanted nothing to do with it.

* * *

“H
ELLO
?” R
ILEY
GROWLED
into the phone.

There was a startled pause before Wren asked hesitantly, “Rough day?”

“Rough client.” Every time Riley did a mock-up of a homepage to the woman’s specifications, her finicky client reacted with a variation of “Oh, now that I see it, I’m not sure that’s what I want.”

“What’s up?”

“I wondered if you were going by Mom and Dad’s this evening. She invited me for dinner, which is probably a trap to discuss my life choices—like I didn’t get enough of that from Rochelle yesterday—but I know you go over almost every day to visit Mags. I figured if you were there, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Sorry, kiddo. I can’t tonight.” When she thought about the text she’d received from Jack earlier, a huge grin split her face. Apparently, they were both having terrible Mondays. He’d texted that he’d heard bubble baths reduced stress and he
knew
sex reduced stress, so he wanted to test his theory that bubble-bath sex was the most powerful cure for tension. She’d enthusiastically volunteered to participate in this experiment but warned that her only bath foam was raspberry-scented. If he wanted something more manly, he’d have to stop and grab something.

His last text had been that he was headed to look for motor-oil scented bubbles as soon as he left the station.

“Riley? Did you hear me?”

Riley blinked, having no idea what her sister had just said. “Hey, do me a favor. Do not tell Mom and Dad about Jack.”

“What would I tell them? I don’t know anything about the guy. Besides, I probably won’t go for dinner if there’s no chance of you dropping in. I need to recover from all of Rochelle’s unsolicited opinions before I can tolerate Mom’s.”

“To be fair, you give people unsolicited opinions all the time.”

“Sure, but
my
opinions are usually right.”

After they hung up, Riley got another hour of work done and, mercifully, didn’t hear from her new least favorite client again. No doubt there would be more whiny emails or phone calls from the indecisive woman tomorrow, but perhaps by then, Riley would be so mellow from bubble-bath sex that she wouldn’t care. As she shut down her laptop, she realized she was starting to get hungry. Should she make something for dinner, or wait for Jack? If he hadn’t eaten, either, maybe they could order something.

In the meantime, she sliced some cheese she had in the fridge and warmed up a loaf of French bread she’d picked up at the bakery. She was just pouring a glass of red wine when there was a knock at her door.

Her stomach did that slow flip it always did when she knew she was seeing Jack. She opened the door with a grin, holding the glass of wine out to him. “How was your day, dear?”

“Sucked.” He winked at her. “But I have high hopes for my evening.”

As he stepped inside, he took the cabernet she’d offered. But instead of drinking it, he held the glass up to her lips. She raised an eyebrow but obligingly took a sip. Then he leaned down to kiss her, his tongue delving into her mouth so that they shared the rich, peppery flavor.

“Mmm.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “If all wine tastings were conducted like that, Napa Valley would sell out.”

“You want some wine, or a soft drink?”

“I’m good. I may eventually grab a beer out of my fridge.” He set down a bag on her counter.

She noticed it bore the logo of a drugstore and grinned. “Did you find something with a manly scent to it?”

“Eucalyptus. It was that or go into the station tomorrow smelling like roses. Speaking of which, something smells wonderful in here.” He inhaled appreciatively. The warm, yeasty aroma of baking bread wafted through her apartment. “Someone was feeling domestic,” he teased.

“
Pfft.
Feeling hungry. I wasn’t sure if you’d had dinner yet or not, and I—”

They both started at the knock on her door.

“Expecting someone?”

She shook her head. “Just you. Unless I accidentally ordered food telepathically. That would be handy.” She went to the door, her blood pressure skyrocketing when she saw who was on the other side of the peephole. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Everything okay?” Jack asked from behind her.

On the other side of the door, Wren knocked again. “Open up, it’s your sister.”

10

J
ACK
WASN
’
T
SURE
he’d heard correctly. “That’s your sister?”

“One of them. The handful.” She rubbed her temples. “Why couldn’t it have been Rochelle?”

There was another knock. “Riley? I hear you in there. I brought takeout from your favorite Thai place.”

Riley groaned. “That’s not fighting fair.”

As much as he’d been looking forward to having Riley all to himself, he thought it was considerate of her sister to check on her. “I think it’s sweet she brought you dinner.”

“Oh, no, this is not sweet. This is...” Riley turned, shaking her finger at the door. “If I don’t open it, she’ll probably use her spare key.”

That must be how she got upstairs. Delivery people had to be buzzed up through the lobby. People with keys could go right through.

He laughed. “I can’t believe you’ve left her in the hallway this long. How bad can she be?”

Riley shot him a dire look. “Just remember later that you said that.” Then she swung the door wide. Her hands went to her hips. “What are you doing here?”

“Having dinner with my favorite sister. And avoiding Sam.” She marched inside, beaming as she set two bags on the counter. “Wren Kendrick. You must be Jack. Do you like Thai food?”

“Love it.”

“Good thing there’s enough for three people,” she said.

Riley glared. “Funny how that worked out.”

“I’ve got spicy basil chicken, lemongrass pork and red curry beef.” Wasting no time, Wren darted into the kitchen, pulling out dishes and utensils in a flurry of motion. “Oooh, wine,” she said when she spotted the open bottle on the counter. “Ry, do you have any of that sweet white wine I like?”

“No.”

“Nuts. Next time I’ll have to bring some of that, too.”

“I may not be here next time,” Riley said. “I’m thinking of moving—and not leaving a forwarding address. I sure as hell won’t be giving out any spare keys.”

Wren seemed impervious to her sister’s clenched teeth and narrowed eyes. “You may not be the only one moving. Don’t ever tell Rochelle I said she was right about something, but in retrospect, making out with Sam was a mistake. Sam’s my roommate,” Wren informed Jack. “Well, one of them. Poor idiot thinks he’s in love with me, and when I didn’t return his feelings... The tension is thick at my place. I never should have fooled around with him.”

Jack nodded, familiar with that particular regret. “When I broke up—” It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t told Riley much about Celeste. He’d said he’d been through a complicated breakup, but he didn’t think he’d told her it had been with a neighbor. Would she think that was his pattern of behavior? He didn’t want her to feel as if he was sleeping with her because she was conveniently located.

“Yes?” Wren leaned forward, pinning him with a gaze that reminded him of interrogations down at the station. “When you broke up...?”

He cleared his throat. “My last breakup was with a woman who lived in my building. It got very strained.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Riley asked. “To get away from an ex-girlfriend?”

It sounded almost cowardly the way she put it. “Well. There were, um, other factors. I—”

“Does anyone else smell something burning?” Wren asked, crinkling her nose.

Riley cursed vividly. “My bread!”

“Guess it’s a good thing I brought roti, too.”

Riley turned to her sister with a look that made Jack consider hiding all the knives. He topped off Riley’s glass of wine and handed it to her.

When they sat down to dinner, Wren did all the talking. In fact, Jack wasn’t sure she stopped long enough to eat any of the food she’d supplied. She had a deceptive conversational technique of prattling on about herself, then suddenly lobbing a direct question like a grenade with no pin in it. The first couple of times she did it, Jack was so caught off guard by the non sequitur that he answered without thinking.

“...which is great because, hello, employee discount. And I can’t believe Rochelle still hasn’t come by! Just because she’s a boring married woman doesn’t mean she can’t occasionally wear something pretty for her husband. So, Jack, is your dad in law enforcement, too?”

“My dad was a bartender.” He blinked. The words sounded strange aloud, as if he’d spoken a foreign language. He rarely had occasion to discuss his father, and it was difficult to think of someone you’d never met as “dad.”

“That’s how he met my mom, actually. She was a waitress. Their dream was to open their own little family restaurant someday. But then he died.”

“I’m so sorry.” For a moment Wren was shocked into speechlessness. But she regrouped quickly. “What happened to him?”

“Wren!” Riley whirled on her sister. “Quit your damn prying.”

The younger woman looked genuinely stricken. From her wide eyes and the slight tremble of her bottom lip, Jack deduced that it was unusual for Riley to snap at her like that.

Rather than endure Wren’s tears or a Kendrick sister smackdown, he blurted, “It was a car accident. My mother was driving.” According to the official report, the driver of a semi had fallen asleep at the wheel, and when Cyndi swerved to avoid him, she’d lost control of the car. She’d said once that a nurse in the maternity ward, months after the accident, said that it had been a blessing Cyndi hadn’t been the one in the “suicide seat” or the baby wouldn’t have survived.

Jack didn’t think his being born had been enough to give his mom peace over being behind the wheel the night her husband died. He honestly didn’t know if the string of mean-tempered losers she’d dated over the next twenty-eight years was her subconscious way of punishing herself, or if she was just that desperate not to be alone. She’d insisted his father was a good man, but Jack would never know. And he had no reason to trust his mother’s judgment.

Loud, unnatural silence had descended over the table. He became aware that he was scowling. He couldn’t say whether the expression on his face was, as Tony put it, dark enough to scare children, but it certainly seemed enough to unnerve Riley and her sister.

Not surprisingly, Wren was the first to rally. She turned to Riley with a determinedly bright smile. “You’ll never guess who’s back from up north! Chris Buchannan. He was madly in love with Riley before he went away to college,” she informed Jack. “They were hot and heavy for what—almost six months? Fair warning, Ry, I think Mom plans to invite him to Thanksgiving dinner. Jack, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?
Ow!
” She jumped in her chair then leaned down to rub the leg Jack assumed had just been kicked.

Wren got the message. She didn’t ask Jack any more questions. Instead, she chatted about how Riley had inspired her to get a pet, “maybe a cat,” and then segued into reminiscing about a guy Riley used to date who volunteered for the humane society. Wren made him sound like quite a catch, and Jack thought sourly that the “dreamy” shelter volunteer probably didn’t suffer from any unmanly dog phobias.

When his phone rang he sent up a silent prayer of thanks. He couldn’t fumble the cell out of his pocket fast enough. “I’ve been expecting a call,” he lied, so grateful for the interruption that if it was some automated survey, he’d take it. Unknown number. The same one as earlier today. “I...need to take this,” he said, not meeting Riley’s gaze. “You two enjoy your sisterly bonding. Call you later in the week!”

By the time he reached his apartment, the phone had stopped ringing. The caller left no message.
So it probably wasn’t important
. Yet telling himself that did nothing to ease the knot of dread in his chest.

* * *

R
ILEY
BARELY
WAITED
for the door to shut before turning on her sister. “What in the hell was that?”

“A pretty lame escape, if you ask me.”

“Not him—you! What are you doing here? You knew Jack and I had plans.”

Wren gnawed a thumbnail, a nervous habit she’d had since she’d been a little girl. “Not necessarily. You said you were having a rough workday and couldn’t get away tonight to visit Mags. For all I knew, you were buried in website crap and needed a break.”

Riley glared, not deeming that nonsense worth a response.

“You were never going to invite me over to meet him, so I had to take matters into my own hands,” Wren said defensively. “I was ‘showing initiative.’ Mom would be proud.”

“I hope that will be a comfort to her after I kill you.” Riley got up to clear the dishes from the table. She needed to keep her hands occupied so that she didn’t throttle her nosy sister.

“Look, I didn’t just come over because I wanted a look at the hot guy—but ohmigosh he is totally hot. Rochelle got in my head. She thinks you’re making a mistake.”

“I’m aware,” Riley said flatly. “Thank you for your concern. Now, go home.”

“I’d rather not.” The warble of coming tears laced her voice. “Things actually got ugly with Sam. I tried to apologize, but he called me... Well, he said a lot of stuff I’d rather not repeat. That’s when I got afraid for you.”

“Afraid?” Riley asked, wondering if she needed to go kick this Sam’s ass. Her baby sister might not be perfect, but that didn’t mean Sam got to belittle her just because he’d been rejected. “Jack would never say anything verbally abusive.”

“No, he doesn’t seem like he would. But ever since you first mentioned him, I’ve been encouraging you to carpe his diem. And when I realized today what a mistake I made with Sam, I worried that I inadvertently steered you in the wrong direction.”

Riley sighed, returning to hug her sister. “This may surprise you, but I don’t actually base my decisions on your advice—entertaining though it often is. Whatever happens between Jack and me, I have my own reasons.”

Wren sniffed. “You don’t take my advice? I don’t know whether to be offended or vastly relieved.”

Riley went to the coffee table to get her a tissue box. “What was with all the rhapsodizing about my past loves? It’s kind of weird to talk about exes on a date.” Was that why Jack hadn’t told her much about his ex-girlfriend?

Will Jack move away when our affair ends?
It was a ridiculous thought. Still, even though the possibility seemed highly unlikely, she couldn’t help imagining it. On the one hand, she’d grown so accustomed in such a short time to his being right across the hall. Having him gone would create a void in her daily life. But...would it make getting over him easier? She didn’t relish the idea of seeing him with whatever woman eventually replaced her in his bed.
Especially
if he started dating someone else in the building. She did a quick mental run-through of the single women in the building, which included the tenant board secretary, who was in her forties, a cute pastry chef with a toddler and a flight attendant who was gone more than she was home.

“Riley?” Wren snapped her fingers. “You asked me a question, but then you spaced out when I was trying to answer. I may not give great advice, but I’m not boring!”

Riley blinked. “No, definitely not.”

“Anyway, I think it’s good for Jack to know other guys worship you. He could have competition.”

She rolled her eyes at her sister’s ridiculous overstatement. “Nobody worships me, and I’m not interested in trying to make Jack feel insecure or jealous.” All she’d really wanted was to make him—and herself—feel better about a crappy day. “I don’t want to play weird mind games.”

“I’ll behave in the future,” Wren promised solemnly. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you about Chris Buchannan at Thanksgiving. If you don’t want Mom to invite him, you’d better head her off at the pass.”

“Noted.”

Wren yawned. “I know I’m a pain in your ass, but can I stay here tonight? Please?”

“Fine.” Riley wasn’t mad enough to send her home to a guy hurling insults at her.
At least she bought Thai food
. Then again, Riley and Jack could have ordered that on their own and still have shared that bubble bath. “But if I were you, I’d sleep with one eye open.”

Riley put some spare sheets on the couch and got Wren a pillow. Her sister was either legitimately emotionally drained from her problems with Sam or she was still sleeping off a couple of wild nights over Halloween weekend. She was softly snoring before ten o’clock, which was unheard of for her. Riley retreated to her room with a good book she was too restless to settle down and enjoy.

Instead, she picked up her cell phone off the nightstand and dialed Jack’s number.

“Hey.” The smile in his voice helped ease the tension in her shoulders.

She’d hoped he was made of sterner stuff that a few hours of Wren wouldn’t scare him away permanently, but he was an only child. And her sister was a lot to take, even for people with experience. “So...that’s Wren.”

“Lively. Inquisitive.”

“Exhausting.”

“That, too. And you have another sister?” he asked, his voice wary.

“You’re unlikely to meet her.” That made her unaccountably sad. But introducing him to her family would lead to inevitable questions about where Riley and Jack were headed. She didn’t think her parents wanted to hear “my bedroom—or the couch, if we can’t make it that far.”

“Rochelle’s not one for surprise visits, or surprises of any kind, really. But should your paths ever cross, I promise she’s more mild mannered than Wren.”

“Death-metal concerts are more mild mannered than Wren.” After a moment, he added, “But it’s clear she looks up to her big sister. Hard to fault her for that.”

“So you’re not scarred for life?”

“Oh, I was that long before I met you.” His tone was light, meant to be joking, but nonetheless, a chill went through her.

She’d known he lost his father, but she’d been startled to hear that his mom had been driving in the accident that killed him. That couldn’t be easy to live with. She had things she wanted to ask, wanted to express, but bit them back. In that moment she was almost jealous of Wren, who wouldn’t have bothered to censor herself.

“I had something I wanted to ask you,” he said. “Are you free Saturday, around four?”

“Yes.” Her plans of working and taking Mags to the park again could both be handled in the morning.