Mr. Wonderful Lies (7 page)

“Okay,” I began, casting for information. “How was your meeting last night?”

He seemed to deflate right there before my eyes. “The partners were approached by a big chain. The offer was pretty good and they want to sell out.”

I sat up straight. “What about you?”

He shrugged a shoulder halfheartedly. “I’d still get to stay on and manage, but it’d be a franchise, so I’d be working for the man.”

“Is it a done deal?”

“Not quite. Tom and Rich offered me a chance to buy them out. If I choose not to, then majority rules and we become Flex Gym.”

“Wow,” I mused. “That’s a huge decision.”

“I know.”

I drummed my fingers idly on the arm of my chair. “Tom and Rich are sort of silent partners when it comes to the day-to-day running of things, right?”

He fiddled with the nearly empty bottle in his hand. “For the most part. They’re always a part of the process when it comes to financing a new venture or things like spending a bunch of cash to renovate or buy new equipment.”

“What about the basic stuff? I know you hire someone to process payments at the front desk and take appointments and stuff, but don’t you pretty much do the rest?”

His brow furrowed. “What are you driving at, Megan?”

I shrugged, tossing one leg over the arm of my overstuffed chair and bouncing my foot. “I just wondered what you really needed Tom and Rich for. Believe me; I understand all about needing investors to get something started. But you’ve got a solid business now. You should be able to go in and get some kind of a small business loan to buy them out or maybe even draw up some kind of document to pay them over a period of time from the profits. Then you’re really your own boss and things won’t change much.”

Jared’s hands stilled on his empty water bottle. “So you’re saying you think I could run the gym all on my own?”

“You pretty much already do. Your accountant handles all the payroll and stuff, but other than that, you’re already running the place yourself.” A grin stretched across my face. “And I can help you with the billing. It’s really easy. Just a little bit of software and voila!”

He looked like a kid at Christmas. The shadow left his brilliant blue gaze, and his face relaxed into a warm smile that transformed him from merely attractive to irresistible. My stomach did an unexpected flip-flop, and I recoiled in surprise.

Jared was my friend. I loved
Ollie
. I shouldn’t be going gaga over Jared no matter how happy I was that he was going to be able to make his dream of sole proprietorship come true. So why did I have this urge to get out of my chair, climb into Jared’s lap, and start making plans for this new venture?

I stood abruptly, more to cover my sudden unease than anything else. “So, I guess I’d better see if I blew a fuse, right?”

He got to his feet with a chuckle. “That’s right. I guess we’d better go make sure you didn’t trash the whole electrical system when you decided to put your phone charger down the garbage disposal.”

I hurried to the narrow door that led downstairs. Normally I look for any excuse to avoid the cold, claustrophobic confines of my cellar. Now I was practically beating the door down in my hurry to avoid any more awkward moments with Jared.

“Do you have a flashlight?” He peered down the rickety wooden steps to the inky blackness below.

“There’s a light switch along here somewhere.” I felt my way along the damp limestone wall and found the warped plastic plate. “Aha!”

I flipped the switch. Nothing happened.

“I’m guessing that switch is on the same circuit as the light above your sink. What about that flashlight?”

Flustered, I turned around to find myself practically smashed up against his chest. I stepped hastily away on the pretext of grabbing a flashlight from the ledge just inside the cellar door I’d rescued from the leaky sink that morning. I fumbled and dropped the heavy thing, nearly smashing his foot.

He gave me an appraising gaze. “Are you all right?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes, choosing to stare at the cellar steps instead. “I hate going down there.” It was the first excuse that came to me.

A warm, steady hand settled on my shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll go down first.”

My skin burned where he touched me, as if I could feel the very essence of the electricity that made up his charismatic personality even through the fabric of my shirt. Keeping my gaze averted, I nodded. “Thanks.”

Taking the flashlight from my suddenly numb hand, he eased his way down the old wooden steps, swinging the light slowly back and forth to see where he was going. I followed, too distracted by my reactions to him to worry so much about the dank cellar.

“Where’s the box?” He glanced back at me over his shoulder.

I gestured to an alcove on our right. “In the corner behind the stairs.”

It was cold down there. The weather had been pretty mild for January, but the subterranean world of my ancient cellar never rose much above freezing. We sidestepped a few boxes and plastic storage containers clumped into tidy piles at the bottom of the stairs.

“You really hate it down here, don’t you?” His soft drawl was loud in the close room.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s like you come down and dump everything right at the foot of the steps and run back up.”

I didn’t bother to argue with his assessment. He was right. I knew it was childish, but I always felt as if the boogeyman were hiding down there waiting for me to come down and spend a few minutes organizing things.

“Here we go.” The flashlight beam finally bounced off the subdued gray metal of the fuse box. “Can you hold the light for me?”

I grabbed the heavy flashlight, careful not to clock him in the head with it and glad to have something to focus on. He fiddled with the cover before setting it aside. I was appalled at the mess of wires I saw wadded up inside the box. “Look at it! It looks demolished, like something chewed on it!”

His low laugh took me by complete surprise. It was sexy and appealing and it made chills dance on every inch of my skin. “This is just what a fuse box looks like, especially in a house as old as this one. You really should have an electrician come out and bring it up to date. But honestly you’re lucky it’s as good as it is. Most of the houses in this area are worse.”

“Seriously?”

He selected a few more wires and adjusted something I couldn’t quite make out. “Yes, seriously. You were really lucky. See this fuse here?” He poked a cylinder shaped thing. “It just got blown.”

“Look at that!” I gestured to the wires. “If Anna were an electrician instead of a real estate agent, things would not be this disorganized.”

His shoulders shook with mirth. “That’s one of the things I love about you. You always know how to make me laugh.”

One of the things he
loved
about me? Jared
loved
stuff about me? Was that normal for a friend? I mean, I love stuff about Jared. Like the way his eyes dance when he smiles, and those dimples, and I love how he looks at me when I’m saying something, as if there’s nothing in the world he’d rather listen to. But I’m a woman. We notice that kind of thing.

“You know what else I love?” He fiddled a bit more with the fuse box. “I love that you’re straightforward. I never have to wonder where I stand with you. Like upstairs, if you had thought it was a bad idea for me to buy the gym, you would have said so. With you, what you see is what you get, and that’s rare. I should know.”

I might’ve missed that last comment if I hadn’t been straining my ears to hear every word out of his mouth. I wanted to ask him if he was talking about the endless parade of women through his life or something else altogether, but I couldn’t think past the idea that he’d just called me honest and straightforward, and there I was having weird, inappropriate thoughts about him. Well, straightforward or not, I wasn’t going to share any of that with anybody. Those were just things I’d have to get over on my own. After all, once Ollie and I got a little more serious, I’d never think about Jared in that way again.

He clicked something into place and a lone orange bulb flickered to life at the bottom of the stairs. “There you go. Good as new. Although I can see why you hate coming down here. There’s almost no decent light to see by.”

I turned my head toward the lonely light bulb in question, but when I turned back to Jared, I promptly forgot what I was going to say.

Sandwiched into the tiny space beside my fuse box, there wasn’t much room for the two of us to begin with. But he’d moved after replacing the dull, gray cover and now stood less than a hairsbreadth away from me. By some awkward circumstance of movement, we were now pressed intimately against one another, face-to-face.

He was unbelievably warm in contrast to the damp cellar air. His body heat shimmered over my skin in waves, flavored by his distinctive scent. I inhaled in sudden surprise and became shockingly aware of every warm, hard inch of his muscular body pressed against mine. Nibbling my lower lip between my teeth, I peeked up at his face.

Jared wasn’t smiling. A strange intensity lingered in his eyes, drawing his features into a tight mask that I couldn’t read. He was breathing deeply, chest rising and falling in rhythmic concert with mine. My eyes were drawn to the outline of the barbell he wore beneath his snug T-shirt.

Searching for something to break the inexplicable tension, I latched onto the idea of the body piercing. “Does that hurt?” I asked, reaching up between our bodies to touch it.

Jared inhaled sharply, hand settling hard over mine and pressing my palm flat against his chest. My fingers tingled at the first feel of his warm, supple pectoral muscle. I could feel his heart thundering beneath my palm.

I hastily took a step backward. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

He seemed to be back in control of his expression. “Don’t worry about it. Sometimes I think I should just get rid of the damn thing.”

I took another step toward the stairs. “But it reminds you of Jackson?”

He emerged from the space around the fuse box. “Yeah. And I’ve had it so long now that I don’t think it would close easily anyway.”

Carefully turning my back to Jared, I trotted up the rickety steps. “Then you might as well keep it. It’s sort of sexy.”

His footsteps paused behind me. “You think it’s sexy?”

“Sure.”

“What about your list? I thought guys with body piercings and tattoos didn’t make the cut.”

I emerged in my kitchen and took a deep breath of relief. “That doesn’t mean I don’t think those things are sexy.”

He turned off the lonely bulb and closed the door behind us. “So let me get this straight. You think body art is sexy, but you refuse to date anyone who has it.”

How had I strayed onto this topic and why wouldn’t he just let it go? I knelt on the floor and started shoving cleaning supplies back under my kitchen sink just for something to keep my hands busy.

Jared leaned casually against my countertop. “Come on Megan, I really want to hear this explanation.”

I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Sometimes sexy doesn’t matter, okay? I mean, sexy is all well and good when you’re out looking for a good time, but it generally doesn’t come with any strings attached. Or none that last anyway.”

“So you’re saying sexy can’t be reliable or responsible, is that it?”

I was suddenly aware that the word sexy had just been given a double meaning of some kind, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. “I’m just saying that I’ve found the best way to sort through the potentials is to completely leave out guys that don’t make the list.”

“And you’re not concerned about whether or not you marry a man you find attractive?”

I pushed a gallon container of Windex to the far back corner of the cabinet. “I didn’t say anything about attractive, Jared. I said sexy.”

“Don’t the two sort of go together?”

“No.” I reached blindly for the dish soap, wishing with every fiber of my being that he would drop this topic and leave. “You’re confusing physical attraction with everything else.”

“Then what do you do when you find someone sexy and attractive at the same time? Just cross them off your list?”

My head pounded with a thousand things I wanted to say and a million things I didn’t. Instead, I leapt to my feet to face Jared.

His outward appearance was calm, collected, but I could tell he was seething inside. “What if you meet someone attractive and sexy and he’s perfect for you? What then? Do you just keep looking elsewhere?”

Desperate to end the conversation, I latched onto the only thing I could. “It doesn’t matter what I find anymore, Jared. I’ve got Ollie. I don’t need to keep looking!”

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve got Mr. Wonderful. How could I forget? Next time you should call
him
to fix your sink.” Jared grabbed his tools in one hand, arm bulging from the weight, and jingled his keys in the other. “See you later, Megan. I’ve got to go.”

Mouth open in shock, I watched him leave with energetic steps. He tossed everything in the tiny trunk of his low-slung blue sports car and sped off in a whirl of squealing tires and engine whine.