Nobody's Fool (7 page)

“Hello, Court. My, don’t you look handsome.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Kramer.”

In Jolie’s opinion he looked good enough to eat—lightweight collared pullover in pale yellow and dark gray trousers? Yum!

“We’re leaving now, Mom. Don’t wait up.” She pecked her mother on the cheek. Jolie couldn’t miss the look of fondness her mother had. Was there also a calculating gleam there?

Don’t bother
, she wanted to tell her mother.
I can handle this all by myself
. Court’s touch on her back sent a heated tingle up her spine. “Ready to go?”

Her earlier confidence evaporated. She wasn’t sure she could handle anything anymore. Especially not where this man was concerned. If she wasn’t careful, she’d melt into a pool at his feet. All he had to do was touch her again.

She shook off the tingle. Chemistry. That’s all it was. Ridiculously strong sexual chemistry. “Bye, Mom.”

“Bye, Mrs. Kramer.”

“Good-bye you two. Court, you take good care of my little girl.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Kramer. I’ve got everything under control.”

Liar
, Court thought as he started the car. But he’d be okay as long as he kept his eyes off Jolie’s legs. And her eyes. Her hair and her mouth.

Who was he kidding? This was going to be a night to remember.

He had to focus on his goal. He had a point to prove to himself. He was over Jolie. She could walk all over people, use them, throw their feelings back in their faces. But he wouldn’t be one of them. Not anymore.

He wouldn’t fall for her again, wouldn’t tell her how he’d felt all those years ago or what she’d done to him when she’d left. He’d get the hell out of Dodge before he made a fool of himself by letting on that he still had a thing for her. That was the plan, anyway.

Jolie looked puzzled as he turned into the parking lot of Smokey’s Grill & Chill and parked. “You’re kidding, right?”

Court grinned. “Why not? We’re old enough now.”

“But—but,” she sputtered as Court got out and came around to open the door for her. Smokey’s was the closest thing Oak Ridge had to a biker bar. Situated on the outskirts of town, the ramshackle building was surrounded by a dilapidated wooden deck, which held an assortment of scarred tables and chairs. A few were occupied, the tabletops crowded with beer bottles, baskets of wings and fries and overflowing ashtrays.

The clientele ranged from the barely legal to clearly geriatric. The dress code consisted of scuffed jeans or overalls paired with T-shirts, along with baseball caps and work boots.

“I think I’m overdressed,” Jolie said.

“It’ll be fine.” He reached for her hand. “The food’s good, believe it or not. I’ll even let you beat me in a game of pool.”

“In that case, how can I refuse?” She took his hand, and a wave of longing went through her, along with a touch of melancholy. Court had made it clear that all he wanted from her was friendship, hadn’t he? She recalled the flare of interest she’d glimpsed in his eyes when she’d first opened the door. Was friendship really all he wanted?

A low whistle rose from the group on the deck as Jolie and Court ascended the steps. “Hey, baby.” From the corner of her eye, Jolie saw Court gesture in their direction, a sort of chopping motion. Quiet descended.

They went inside. Their arrival was acknowledged by turned heads and a brief drop in the hum of conversation. “I wish you’d told me where we were going,” Jolie murmured. “I wouldn’t have worn this.”

“Are you kidding? You look fantastic. Besides, this place could do with a little class. What do you want to drink?”

Ordering a glass of white wine might be a mistake. Beer, which she rarely drank, seemed like her best bet. “Light beer,” she replied. “Imported, if they have it.”

She stayed close to Court while the bartender got their orders. She wasn’t immune to the admiring glances—or in some cases, outright leers—directed her way. She felt like a fish out of water and wondered if Court had planned it that way.

He turned with two bottles of beer in one hand, held by the necks between his fingers. He nodded in the direction of the pool tables. “There’s one open. Want to play?”

Jolie lifted her chin. She had the feeling Court was playing some sort of game, but it had nothing to do with pool. Although she’d given up playing such games herself, she still remembered how. “Sure, why not?”

They made their way to the table. She set her purse down and Court handed her one of the bottles as he racked the balls. He came around and handed her a pool stick.

“What?” he asked.

“Did you bring me here to make me feel uncomfortable?”

“No, of course not.” His face fell as he looked around. “Is it that bad? I thought it would be fun. Didn’t you always want to come in here when you were a kid? I did. A bunch of us tried to get in with fake IDs.” He smiled at the memory. “Smokey kicked us out on our asses.” The smile faded. “I’m sorry. This was probably a bad idea. We can go to the Cedar View.” He moved to take the cue stick away from her.

“I’m being a snob, aren’t I?” She didn’t know if she’d meant to say that aloud or not.

“No, no, that’s not what I said.”

“You don’t have to.” Jolie looked into Court’s eyes. “That’s how I behaved in high school, like I was too good for just about everybody. I tell myself I’ve changed, but then I still act this way. Until someone points it out to me.”

“Jolie—”

She wrested the pool stick back from him and walked around the table. She picked up the chalk then lined up the cue ball. “Let’s stay.” She broke, dropping one ball in a side pocket. “You said the food’s good. And you’re right, I was always curious about this place.”

Chapter Seven

Jolie drank too much beer. She leaned heavily on Court as they descended the steps from Smokey’s to the car. Her limbs were loose, but her nerve endings buzzed with awareness over every move Court made.

They’d played pool, trading friendly insults throughout the match. By the time they found a table and ordered food, she’d already had a mild buzz from two beers on an empty stomach.

Over racks of ribs, piles of fries and heaps of coleslaw, they’d fallen into easy conversation. Another beer loosened Jolie’s tongue even further. She told Court about her meeting with Sarah, about Jeff and the accident, about trying to change her ways.

But no amount of alcohol would make her cross the line and tell Court how she’d felt all those years ago. How scared and unsure she’d been, not knowing who she could trust or what she was doing. She certainly couldn’t bring up how she’d treated him at the end. She wasn’t even sure herself why she’d pushed him away. Court would expect an explanation, but what could she tell him?

On the ride home, Court lowered the windows and opened the sunroof. The crisp night air played havoc with her hair, but it also invigorated her. By the time they reached Wildwood Lane she felt more alive than she had in years. She didn’t fool herself. The feeling had less to do with fresh air than it did with being so close to Court…and the beer didn’t hurt.

He opened her door and helped her out, ever the gentlemen. She wound her arm through his as they strolled up the walk. She leaned against him, allowing the side of her breast to brush his arm. She didn’t know if it had any effect on him—he didn’t seem to notice—but an excited tingle shot through her.

At the top of the steps they faced each other. Court’s expression wasn’t really visible. The only light provided was by the carriage lamps near the steps.
So what?
Jolie thought. It was probably for the best that she couldn’t see him very well. Otherwise she might lose her nerve.

She stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his. Just once. She sighed. Even that brief touch tasted of coming home.

He didn’t withdraw. She’d barely given him a chance to respond. Now she would.

She slid her arms over his shoulders, feathered her fingers through the hair at his nape and kissed him again. His arms wrapped around her naturally, but she still wasn’t getting the response she was searching for. He seemed surprised by her forwardness, or unsure of her intent. He wasn’t making much of an attempt to kiss her back, though.

She moved herself as close to him as she could get, her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. Her thighs against his. Her eyelids fluttered.
No
, she thought.
I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see
.

With her tongue she teased his lips, begging him to respond. Nothing. She was about to give up and hang her head in humiliation when he finally gave in. Like she’d woken him from a deep sleep, his arms tightened around her, he accepted the press of her body and his tongue met hers. She took it and held on. The kiss deepened and every ounce of apprehension went out of her. Her knees went weak. Her back met the closed door, blocking her escape and Court used it for leverage to get even closer.

Once he started, he never backed away. It became one long series of hot open-mouth kisses that seemed to have no end. He buried one hand in her hair while the other stayed on the small of her back, holding her close, allowing her to feel his arousal.

She moaned in the back of her throat. “More,” she tried to say, the sound of her voice muffled by the kiss.

She grasped the door handle, her brain flying in so many directions she wondered how she could think of such a practicality. But here in Oak Ridge, with its prying eyes and small-town grapevine, it probably wasn’t a good idea to stand on her parents’ front porch kissing Court Harrison for all she was worth.

“Come in,” she said, the words just as muddled as before. They managed to get inside and close the door.

Now her back was against the wall of the small foyer. Court unbuttoned her vest. His hands covered her breasts through the satiny shirt. His thumbs teased the peaks of her nipples. A tiny cry escaped her throat.

“More,” she said again, sounding like “Mrrrr”, but Court understood her perfectly.

He yanked her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt. His palms explored her back and her midriff before coming up to cup her breasts once again through her bra.
So close and yet…
Jolie thought vaguely, her thoughts so disjointed she could hardly catch them. More little cries of pleasure escaped her, muffled by the kiss that never seemed to end.

Court guided her away from the wall, dislodging a small, framed picture as they went. It fell with a quiet thump.

He maneuvered her into the living room, and she felt the sofa against the backs of her legs. He turned around and lowered the both of them, so she was in his lap, or more to the point, straddling his lap.

She giggled in heady delight, thinking at last she had Court right where she wanted him.

“Stop laughing,” he whispered. She could only see his teeth when he smiled, like a Cheshire cat. He was intent on unbuttoning her blouse. She nibbled his earlobe, then drifted kisses along his throat, circling his collar.

“I can’t,” she whispered back much too loudly. “I’m too happy.”

“You’ll wake your parents,” Court warned.

She tugged at the bottom of his sweater, lifting it halfway up. “Take this off.” Her hands found their way beneath and she caressed his abdomen and chest. She kicked her shoes off. The heel of one hit the coffee table with an audible click.

“Mmm.” She reveled in the feel of his springy chest hair and the heat of his body against her palms.

“Jolie.” He captured her head in his hands, which in turn had the effect of stilling her exploration of his chest.

She looked at him, but with so many shadows in the room and so little light, it was hard to say why he’d spoken her name. Her hand had come to a stop over his chest. “Your heart’s beating really fast,” she said. She pushed his sweater higher and lowered her head to drop a kiss where her hand had just been. Then another and another.

“Jolie.” Court shifted beneath her, and she smiled.

“Come to bed with me,” she whispered. She kissed his lips once more.

“No.”

She kissed him more insistently. He shifted positions again.

“Not here,” he managed to say. Another kiss. “Not now.”

Court was half reclining at an awkward angle. Undeterred by his resistance, Jolie crawled atop him.

“Right here. Right now,” she whispered back. She hiked her skirt higher, positioned herself so that hard part of him was pressing between her thighs.

He groaned, grasped her hips with both hands to hold her still. “Jolie,” he said in the tone of a man driven to the edge with lust.

They shifted and wiggled some more, each jockeying for position, in between kisses and caresses. Jolie giggled again as Court’s fingers inadvertently brushed a sensitive area, tickling her.

He parted her blouse, allowed her breasts to fill his hands as she froze above him, every sense on alert. He lifted his head and suckled one nipple through the sheer fabric of her bra.

She couldn’t stand it any longer. She wanted more. Right now. Her knee slid off the sofa cushion and she felt herself falling, sliding to the floor. Court came with her. Her elbow connected with the coffee table. “Ow!” Her hushed exclamation echoed through the house. It might as well have been a gunshot.

Court’s bigger body did even more damage, edging the table aside, knocking over one of her mother’s precious figurines. It landed on its side with a clatter.

Court and Jolie froze, looking at each other with horrified expressions neither could clearly see before trying to scramble up.

Their limbs had become as hopelessly tangled as their clothing.

A door opened and a light came on in the hall at the top of the stairs.

“Jolie?”

“Yes, Mom.” With the light spilling down from the stairway she could now see Court. His hair was wildly mussed and there was an amused yet apprehensive expression on his face.

“What’s going on down there?”

“N-nothing,” she said, her eyes still on Court. “Court and I were just, um, talking.”

“In the dark?” Her mother sounded suspicious. The unmistakable creak of a stair followed.

Jolie frantically gestured to Court. He yanked his sweater back into place. With fumbling fingers she began to button her blouse.

“You don’t need to come down, Mom,” Jolie said, trying not to sound as frantic as she felt. “Court was just leaving.”

“Sorry to have disturbed you, Mrs. Kramer. I’ll be going now.”

The creak of the stairs stopped. “All right then, you two. Good night.”

“Good night, Mrs. Kramer.”

“Good night, Mom.”

As soon as they heard the door close upstairs they both burst into quiet laughter.

“My mother catching me making out with a boy on the living room sofa. That hasn’t happened since high school.”

“It’s never happened to me,” Court said. That killed the laughter, reminding them both of things they’d rather forget. “I should go.”

He started for the door and Jolie followed. Again she had that deflated balloon feeling. Flying high one minute, crashing to the ground the next.

“Court?” she said before he stepped through the door. He turned back to her. “I had a nice time.” It seemed so inadequate, but she didn’t know what else to say.

He reached out and brushed a wayward strand of hair back over her shoulder. “Me too.” Her mother had left the light on upstairs. Jolie thought she saw something in Court’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. Longing? Regret? Sadness?

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

Then he was gone.

Carefully Jolie righted the little figurine. Thank God it was still in one piece. She wouldn’t have welcomed explaining to her mother exactly how it got broken.

She slowly climbed the stairs, her mind still occupied with thoughts of Court.

He’d certainly learned a lot since those far off days when they’d practiced kissing. He was an expert now. He’d taken things agonizingly slowly, allowing the excitement between them to build, holding her at bay, giving attention to details.

It was like being back in high school, she thought. That touchy-feely exploration kids did before they really knew what the hell they were doing. She’d almost forgotten how good it could feel to put the main event on hold. It seemed once you were an adult that kind of foreplay hardly existed anymore. Oh, maybe the first time you were with someone, but the innocence—that was it—the innocence was gone.

With Court she felt innocent again and new. Filled with wonder at the feelings he aroused in her, not only physically, but in her heart as well.

She undressed and climbed into bed. As was her habit now, she held the locket, rubbing it like a talisman.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.
Court shook his head at the reflected image of himself in the bathroom mirror while he brushed his teeth. All Jolie had to do was quirk her little finger and he’d come running. How humiliating.

After he’d rinsed, he planted both hands on the counter and leaned in toward the mirror. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked himself. “She’ll screw with your head and then walk away, just like in high school.” His reflection didn’t seem to have any answers. “Dumbass.” Not the best parting shot, but he couldn’t think of anything more appropriate to describe his behavior tonight. He turned off the light and climbed into bed.

He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling in his old room and thought about Jolie. How many nights had he done this during high school? Wondered what she was up to? Who she was with? How many times had she toyed with him, drawing him close before friend-zoning him again? Too many to count.

He pitied the boy he’d once been and how easily he’d been manipulated. All it took was a smile or a pout from Jolie. The smiles were usually part of a con to get help with her homework. The pouts were caused by any perceived mistreatment at the hands of one of her cheerleader friends or her latest boyfriend.

He’d always been there for her, like a loyal dog who didn’t know any better. He’d eagerly accept the morsels of affection she offered, only to find himself locked out of her life. Until the next time, when he’d run back just as eagerly, just as hopeful that this time she’d finally get it. She’d finally see that he was the one who understood her. That she could always count on him.

But she never did see. She never got it. He’d slink home licking his wounds time and time again. But the hope never completely died until the day he’d given her that locket. He’d watched her drive off with Chip without a backward glance. Then
he
finally got it.

Jolie was never going to love him back. She’d used him and he’d allowed it, but no more. He’d sworn he’d never let it happen again. He wouldn’t be hurt by her any more.

Great job, asshole
, he thought now.
That went well.

Tonight had been a perfect example of how easily she could wind him up. And make no mistake, she was setting him up for a big fall.

She’d been putting on that “I’ve changed” sincerity act ever since she’d arrived back in Oak Ridge. Court wasn’t falling for it. She knew how to act. No matter how much he might want to believe she was sincere, he knew better. He knew how she operated.

He wondered why she wore that locket all the time. He’d noticed it the night he’d picked her up for the reunion cocktail party. He was almost certain it was the one he’d given her, but he could be wrong. He sure wasn’t going to embarrass himself by asking.

He turned over and punched a fist into his pillow before laying his head down. She wasn’t going to get to him this time.

Tonight he’d gone out of his way to keep things friendly. He was a red-blooded American male, but he’d worked hard to disguise his carnal attraction to her.

She’d made the first move. She’d been the aggressor. It had surprised the hell out of him. In a way it pissed him off. What was so great about him now? He was the same Court he’d been ten years ago. Almost. He’d changed on the outside, that was all.