Love Is the Drug (6 page)

Jason gave a mental sigh of relief. He lifted a shoulder and dropped it in a half-shrug. “She seemed okay to me.” He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “In fact…. Dad, you and I are her new partners. How do you feel about that?”

The answering ‘
whoop!’
nearly broke his eardrum. He switched the phone to his other ear and pressed his palm against the abused one.

“Now, why didn’t I think of that? Great idea. Perfect.”

Jason and his dad talked for another half-hour. After hanging up with him, he called Paul and gave him the news. Jason told him that he would be able to get back on track with their newest client in about a month, and Paul agreed to continue dealing directly with them as much as feasible until that time.

Afterward, Jason did something he hadn’t done since he was a kid: He stayed home and watched television. After the day he’d just had, he was beat. Plus, he had no intention of going to Jimmy’s, the only bar around, for fear he’d have to deal with Nora Lee for a third time that day. Nope, even though he’d be bored out of his everlovin’ gourd, he was not stepping foot outside his door until he went to meet Julie the next morning.

* * *

The pink cotton shirtdress slid off of Julie’s slip-covered hips and dropped in a puddle at her feet before she could catch it. She stepped out of it and draped it over her arm before walking to the closet to hang it on a hanger. It looked rather lonely there, all by itself.

Kind of like her, she supposed.

The style of the dress was loose, and the size was a little big, but it was the only thing—other than a few family photos—that she had of her mother, and wearing it comforted her, made her feel a small spark of connection to the woman who bore her, and to her disrupted childhood.

It had been one of her mother’s favorites.

When the authorities had shown up, in the wee hours of the morning all those years ago, to tell her and Connie that the flight their parents were on had burst into flames just before landing, and that her parents were among those that hadn’t survived, Julie had run to their bedroom and wept into the dress. It had been tossed on the end of the bed in a last minute packing decision by her mother.

Julie had brought the dress with her when CPS had come to take them to the facility. The dress, along with the few—the very few—other items she and Connie were allowed to take with them.

Connie, she remembered, had been terrified—and very angry. Angry that she wouldn’t be going to the junior prom with some boy she’d had her eye on for months who’d finally asked her to go with him, and angry at their parents for dying, as well. Which was why, Julie understood now, Connie hadn’t taken anything with her but her makeup, her favorite pair of jeans, and a few skimpy tops. She’d been in denial.

Julie had been scared as well, but beside herself with grief, too. She’d wanted so desperately for the authorities to be wrong—for her parents to show up, still alive, to take them back home. For everything to go back to the way it had been.

She’d wished it so fervently, in fact, that she’d actually dreamed about it that first night they were in the children’s home. She’d experienced such intense joy, seeing her parents again, that when she’d awakened and realized it hadn’t been real, she’d wanted to curl up and die herself.

So, during those first days, she’d barely eaten; wouldn’t speak to anyone but Connie. Just wanted it all to fade to black.

And then, when their caseworker told them that they’d be placed in separate foster homes, Julie told her sister what she’d been thinking—wanting.

Connie had flung her arms around Julie and squeezed her so tight, she couldn’t breathe. She’d told her not to
ever
leave her; that they wouldn’t have to live apart. She’d get them out of there and they would go so far away, nobody would ever find them.

And no matter what her sister had become afterward, Julie would always—always—be grateful to her for the near miraculous feat she’d accomplished that very night by getting the two of them out unnoticed and then, for all those years afterwards, taking care of Julie, keeping her safe, and loving her the best way she could.

A sigh slipped past Julie’s lips. She walked over to the backpack on the bed and took out the small framed photograph from an inside pouch. As she slowly pivoted and sat on the edge of the mattress, she drew her thumb over the images of her grinning father in his fishing cap, her wind-blown mother, Connie’s sunburned cheeks, and herself—at six years old—holding up the most pathetic excuse for a fish she’d ever seen.

After another long moment, she positioned the photo, just right, on her nightstand and dropped a fingertip-kiss on each of their images.

* * *

Three nights later, Jason was sitting at the table in Julie’s kitchen. It was nearing seven o’clock and he had pages strewn from one rounded edge to the other. It was one of those rickety old tables that wobbled and creaked every time you made the slightest move and it was covered with a red and white checkered plastic table cloth that had more than one acid-brown stain from a stray cigarette on it, as well as a hole burned directly in the center from the same type of abuse. Julie usually hid the hole with a canning jar filled with wild flowers, but right now the make-shift vase was on the counter and the fledgling partnership’s plans and contracts were covering the damage.

The abandoned black kitten that Julie had found under her porch that first morning curled around Jason’s left leg and
mewed.
He leaned down and absently stroked the animal’s head and back with one hand while he shuffled through the pages in front of him with the other.

“Come here,
Pookie
,” Julie said and dropped down to her haunches, holding out a few kitten treats in her palm. Jason had to shove the animal toward her, but it finally caught on to the fact that she was offering it something to eat, and walked the rest of the way by itself. He grinned and looked up when he heard the loud purrs coming from the little tyke. “That cat has no idea just how lucky it is that it wound up at your house,” he said.

She looked up at him then and grinned back. “Yeah, I know. I was always adopting strays when I was a kid. Actually, it had been a joint effort, most times, between me and Connie.” She shrugged and looked back down at the kitten, which was now having a wrestling match with her hand. “You know what they say about old habits.”

Jason was trying real hard not to notice the amount of inner thigh revealed now that Julie’s shorts were hiked up high by the position she was in, or the sliver of silky, softly tanned hip and back that the low waist and somewhat lifted tank exposed, but he was losing the battle.

He jumped to his feet. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.” The table nearly tipped over, so he hurriedly righted it, grabbing hold of the papers at the same time before they slid to the floor. “Let’s go to Jimmy’s and get a beer and a bite to eat.” He looked at his watch as he continued scrambling the documents together with the other hand. “The honky tonk floor should be open just about now, too, so we can dance for awhile.”

* * *

Julie rose to her feet and turned around, heading toward the sink.
Go dancing with Jason?
Not a good idea. At all. He was way too good looking, way too sure of himself, and way too sexy for her own good. As she washed her hands, she said, “Sorry, Jason, but I want to unpack some more of my things that arrived this morning.”

After wiping her hands on the faded cherry-design dish towel next to the sink, she turned back to face him and leaned against the counter. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she said, “Maybe another time.”
Not likely.

“Aren’t you hungry? Well, I am. Hey, in fact it’ll be my treat. What say?”

She glanced at her refrigerator and then back at him. “I’ll be happy to cook something for us…in fact, I’d like that.” Her lips pressed together a brief second before she continued, “I really hate to only cook for myself.”
Yeah. That’d be much safer. She could stay on her side of the kitchen. He could stay on his.
She lifted her brows, giving him a slight smile of invitation.

One side of his face scrunched up and he gave her a half-shrug as he answered, “That sounds great, Julie. And I appreciate the offer, but I was really wanting a bit more exercise—you know—dancing?”

He strode up to her and took hold of her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Come on.” When he added that megawatt grin, she felt the power of it, and his electric touch, along every nucleotide that ran down every double helix that resided inside every cell of her being.

She jerked her hand away and ran it over the hair behind her ear, tucking it more snugly in place. “I—I don’t know. I’ve just got so much to do.”

She turned around and picked up the coffee mug out of the sink and began washing it. She’d been so keyed up these past three days—between filtering every word she said to him with regard to Connie, trying to present to him the professional businesswoman persona that she aspired to—well, as best she could without her better clothes, which had finally arrived earlier—
and
doing everything in her power to not let on how attracted she was to him, she was wiped out.

But
dancing!
No way.

First of all, she wasn’t very good at it, but second of all—she’d no doubt end up acting just like every other woman who ever met him, clinging to him like a vine. And not only would she embarrass herself, but she’d mess up the great business opportunity this partnership was affording her.

His hands settled on her shoulders. She started, but then she forced herself to relax.

“Look, it would be a big favor to me if you would go. I really need to get out for awhile. But, you see, there’s this,
ahem,
woman, Nora Lee Blum—do you know her?

Julie stopped washing the mug and shook her head.

“Well, she’s a divorcée—real recent—and, well…it would just be a whole lot easier if you were there, kind of as a buffer.” He turned her around to face him again and that hopeful, eager-little-boy look on his face sealed the deal.

She heaved a really big sigh. It came out as a groan. “All right. I’ll go with you.”

Jason leaned down and gave her a buss on the cheek, jetting a thrill of euphoria down to her toes. “Thanks, Julie. I owe you one.”

She gave him a half smile and shook her head. “Yeah, yeah.” And then her eyes widened. “Hey, what am I supposed to wear to go dancing there, anyway?”

* * *

Jason did a quick scan of her attire. He knew he should tell her to put something less sexy on—for his own peace of mind—but the words just would not form. Instead he said, “Oh, what you have on is just fine for Jimmy’s honky tonk.”

* * *

Two hours later, Jason was regretting those words. Not only had he been in a state of semi-arousal since their first slow dance together a half-hour ago, but now, he was feeling a very unfamiliar need to keep the other hounds at bay. He’d been kind of enjoying this bizarre almost-attraction he was feeling for Julie, which he attested to the sense of déjà vu he got when he was with her.

And he was pretty sure she wanted him, too—even if she was trying to hide it. He thought that was real cute. He’d catch her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t aware. And he’d definitely noticed that the hair-fidgeting thing happened more when she was with him than when she talked to other people.

Hell, if she wasn’t Connie’s sister—and his dad’s pet project—he might even go for it.

Which brought him back to the problem at hand: Mike Magnusen, of Magnusen Construction—the guy he’d just hired to build the lodge once the designs were complete. He and Julie were out on the dance floor, where they’d been for the last three dances, and Jason could tell by the leer in Mike’s eyes that he was having the same kind of reaction to her that he, himself, had just had. Clearly, Julie conjured that same déjà vu vibe in Mike. From the look of him, he’d probably been a linebacker in high school—maybe even college, too.

He shoved the bottle of beer further back on the table and got to his feet. Then he strode up to the couple on the dance floor. Tapping Mike on the shoulder, he said, “Hey, guy, mind if I cut in? Julie’s
my
date, remember?”

Mike gave him a sheepish grin and conceded his prize. “Sorry, Jason. I guess I forgot about that.”

Jason cocked a brow at Mike, letting him know he didn’t believe that piece of horse shit for one second, and then he took Julie in his arms and swept her down the dance floor. He kind of liked how she would stumble against him every once in awhile when she missed a step.

‘Course, those two beers he practically had to force down her gullet to get her to even consider dancing in the first place probably weren’t helping her coordination any. “You look flushed—are you hot? Wanna sit a couple out? Or—maybe you’d like to take a walk outside and get some fresh air for a minute?”

Julie grinned up at him and shook her head. “No way. Now that you dragged me out here, I’m having too good of a time to rest.”

He grinned back. She felt kind of nice to hold. Not like arm ornament, but like real female flesh. He allowed his eyes a quick glance down at her chest. Nice looking tits. Not real big, but definitely some he’d like to see more of. He lifted his eyes back to hers and was jolted by the twinkle in her eye as she lifted her mouth into an even wider smile. He gave her a shrug. “Sorry. Guy thing. Not even conscious of it most of the time.”