Plain Jayne (29 page)

“One more,” she grinned, tapping on the list of sales she’d clipped from the paper. “And
then you can help me unload them into the store.”

Nick took one look at the address and laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he grinned. “Not a thing.”

He wheeled the truck near a small condominium complex and parked on the road. Jayne hopped out and started up the drive with Nick’s hand resting on the small of her back.

“What’s so funny?”
she repeated. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they left the last sale.

“Wait for it.” They rounded the corner of the first condo and immediately came upon the last sale listed in the paper.

At first glance, it seemed to be mostly children’s stuff, but Jayne moved closer just in case she was missing any kids’ books.

“Nick! Great to see you.”

Marathon Barbie
. Jayne didn’t have to look up to know Nick was grinning from ear to freaking ear.

“Hey, Amber. How’s it going? Selling lots of stuff?”

“Yeah, so far so good.” Her blond hair was piled on the top of her head and she was dressed in hot pink short-shorts with a teeny tiny white tank top. “Didn’t think yard sales were your thing.”

“We’re looking for books,” he said.

“We?”

It might have been Jayne’s imagination, but she’d have bet her right arm that was disappointment she heard in Marathon Barbie’s voice. Next thing Jayne knew, Nick had his hand on her back again and was grinning that stupid crooked grin.

“Jayne, you remember Amber, don’t you?”

“Of course.” She straightened up from the box she’d been going through and managed the brightest smile she could. “Nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too.” The smile remained, but the sparkle didn’t. “I think there’s some books left over here.”

As she led them to another table, Nick pinched Jayne to get her moving. She swatted his hand, then smiled at Amber again. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

A lady in a beat-up straw hat tugged Amber back to the children’s clothes. Jayne wheeled around and jabbed her finger into Nick’s chest, laughing all the while.

“You’re such an idiot!”

“What?” he chuckled, stepping away from her jabs, then reaching back for her hand. “I’m just the chauffeur. I go where I’m told.”

“Then let me tell you where you can go,” she smirked back at him.

“Come on.” He gave her a gentle shove, then eyed her up and down as they walked to the truck without so much as a backward glance. “At least you weren’t dressed like a hobo this time.”

Back at the store, they spent a while sorting the books into piles and then Nick sat on the floor against the sales counter reading an old Louis L’Amour while Jayne alphabetized the sections.

“Got any more of these?” he asked. “This guy’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, there’s a few here, but don’t you want to read them in order?”

“How many are there?”

“Hmm.” Jayne scrunched her face up and tried to think back to Gran’s old books. “There’s gotta be fifteen or twenty I think. Which one do you have?”

Nick flipped it over to look at the cover.
“The Daybreakers.”

“I think that was the first one that came out, but then he went back and wrote some that happened before that story, sort of like prequels.”

“Like
Star Wars
.”

“No,” she snorted. “Not like
Star Wars
.”

“Do I need to read them in order?” he asked, even as he kept reading the one he had.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“But you would.”

“Well, duh.” She nudged him with her foot and held out the copy of
The Last Days of Pompeii
. “Look at this.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“No, look!” She squatted beside him and opened the cover, slowly, gently, to show him the copyright page. When Nick didn’t say anything, she swatted him up the side of his head. “Are you kidding me? It’s from 1897, Nick, and it winds up in a yard sale! What’s wrong with
people?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “Maybe the average Joe isn’t interested in ratty old books with brittle pages and covers falling off.”

Jayne pushed back to her feet and sighed. “I think it’s beautiful.”

“ ’Course you do. Got anything to drink?” He headed upstairs, leaving Jayne with the leather-bound book still clutched in her hands. A second later he was back, the framed dandelion necklace in his hand.

“I thought you were kidding when you said you still had it.”

“Nope.” She set the book on the counter and smiled. “I just can’t decide where to hang it.”

“How about in a closet somewhere? It’s awful.”

He set the frame down on the counter and moved down the store, gripping shelves to see if they wiggled, then stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at the doorway that opened into the store.

“God help me, I know that look, Nick, and there’s nothing that needs to be fixed, hammered, repaired, or ripped up. We’re good.”

“Where’s your tool belt?”

“Thanks for listening.” With a sigh, she retrieved her belt from her closet and handed it over.

He pulled out the measuring tape and ran it around the door frame, mumbling to himself the whole while. When he was done, he pointed the tape at the opening and nodded.

“I’ve got a door in my garage that would fit here.”

“I don’t need a door.”

“You should really have a door.”

“Why?”

“So customers don’t go wandering up to your apartment, that’s why.” His gaze moved over the space between the door frame, the stairs, and the space between them and the back door. “I’m gonna go get it.”

“Nick.” But he was already gone.

And an hour later, a new door hung where one had never hung before, complete with deadbolt and shiny new keys.

“Thank you. Now come on, dinner’s ready.”

“Dinner?”

Jayne froze on the stairs. “Sorry, did you have plans?”

“No, but I didn’t expect—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Nick. On top of everything else, now I have a free door. The least I can do is give you something to eat.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing,” he said, following her up the stairs. “Just saying it’s not necessary.”

They hit the top and he inhaled, long and deep. “Oooh, yeah. Spaghetti sauce. With meat this time?”

“Of course.” She pointed him toward the sink as she moved everything to the table. It was a tight squeeze with both of them in the tiny kitchen, and after bumping into her for the third time, he tucked his hands under her armpits, lifted her in the air, then turned them one hundred and eighty degrees so she was on the sink side and he could get out.

“How do you do anything in there?” he asked.

“Easy. There’s not usually more than one bum in there at the same time.” Jayne laughed softly and carried the pot of sauce out to the table. It was nothing more than a glorified card table with a couple spindle-backed chairs, but it was all she needed.

Nick heaped his plate and spun the noodles around his fork. She passed him the salad bowl, which he promptly set back on the table without taking any. Jayne couldn’t stop smiling the whole time they ate. She tried to hide it, but it was useless.

Nick scooped the last bits of sauce from his plate. “What?”

She took a sip of her water and shrugged. “Just nice to have company for dinner again is all.”

“I’m available tomorrow, too,” he grinned. “What are you having?”

“Apparently not leftover spaghetti.”

He hesitated, the full spaghetti scoop hovering over the pot, a guilty grin on his face, then he dumped it on his plate with a shrug. “Screw it, I’ll cook for us tomorrow.”

“Peanut butter sandwiches?”

“No,” he said slowly. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

“Wow—haute cuisine,” she laughed. “I’ll make sure I find the right wine.”

After they’d cleaned up, Nick stood in the tiny living room, hands on his hips. “No TV, huh?”

“Nope.” Jayne tipped her head and smiled. “We could go for a walk.”

“Or we could drive over to Walmart and get you a TV.”

“Nice try. Come on.”

Eight o’clock on a Saturday night and downtown was like a ghost town. The only other person out on the street was the man from the dollar store out sweeping the walk. Jayne and Nick walked slowly, peeking in shop windows, not talking about anything in particular.

“Guess this is kind of a girl thing, huh?”

“Little bit,” he nodded. “But after all the SportsCenter I made you watch, I guess I owe you.”

“Yeah,” she snorted. “You owe me. Right.”

At the corner, they crossed over and started back the other side. Jayne slowed in front of Ellie’s store to check out her window display. She’d swapped out the gentle pastel-colored dresses for a few that were more along the lines of the “it’s on, baby” dresses. The pink and white ones were way over the top for Jayne’s liking, but the third one made her look twice.

Made of the same jersey fabric as her green dress, this one was a deep aubergine, with wide straps at the shoulders, a full twirly skirt, and a twist knot centered in the gathered bodice. Not quite an “it’s on” dress, but edging a little in that direction.

“Nice.” Nick’s voice was right at her ear, making her jump. “Can’t go wrong with purple, right?”

“Right,” she murmured, moving on. They walked to the end of the street, then around the curve toward the yacht club. The sun had already started to dip, leaving the water bathed in ripples of orange and pink.

Jayne didn’t linger, figuring Nick had probably had enough of this girl stuff, so she turned and headed back the way they’d come. The air was so still, so quiet, it was enough to let their footsteps be the only sounds, until, all too soon for Jayne, they were back at the store.

She unlocked the back door and stepped inside, but Nick seemed to hesitate.

“You coming up?” she asked. “I could make coffee.”

He stuffed both hands in his pockets and looked at the ground for a second. “I, uh, I think I better get going.”

“You sure?”

He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a second before blowing out a low breath. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave her a speedy peck on the cheek and before she knew it, Jayne found herself right back where she’d been last night: staring up at her ceiling wishing she could stop thinking about him long enough to get some sleep.

*  *  *

Bright and early next Saturday morning, with tissue box in hand, and Carter at his side, Nick pounded on Jayne’s door. He pounded again, but still nothing. Of course, with the way her music was making the whole building vibrate, there was no wonder she couldn’t hear him banging.

Add a doorbell to the list of things needed at the store.

“You mean you don’t have a key?” Carter leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms.

Nick didn’t answer, just pulled out his phone, punched in her number, and waited. Three rings, then voice mail. Hang up, dial again. Voice mail. Sooner or later, the song would change and she’d hear it ring. Fifth time was the charm.

“Hi!” She sounded a little winded. Probably dancing.

Nick grinned into the phone. “You gonna let us in or what?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Hold on.”

With their phone line still open, he could hear her moving around inside, could hear her breathing as she jogged down the stairs to open the door. And the second he saw her, he knew.

“Hi.” Maybe it was the way she looked, standing there in her robe with a Scooby Doo towel wrapped around her head, or maybe it was the way she opened the door with her phone still pressed up against her ear.

Or maybe … maybe it was the way smiled up at him, the way she’d smiled at him so many times before, with her blue eyes so full of hope, her pretty mouth quivering and wobbling until she managed to get hold of it.

Whatever it was, Nick suddenly knew that’s what was missing between him and Lisa; that feeling like his heart was going to bust his ribs if it swelled any bigger, like he’d been
punched in the solar plexus and his next breath depended on her and her alone, and like … 
Oooooh, shit
.

Nick kept his phone up to his ear, too, stumbling to get his tongue to work. “Hey.”

“Are we just going to stand here or what? Look out.” Carter shoved Nick out of the way and lifted Jayne into a hug, carrying her back into the little storage room. “Happy birthday, Jay. Let’s see what you’ve done with the place. When are you opening?”

“Next Saturday.”

He set her free, and though Nick might have imagined it, it seemed like Carter gave her a gentle shove in Nick’s direction. He hugged her tight, trying really hard not to inhale the soft scent of strawberries against her neck, trying even harder not to give away what he’d suddenly realized. What he should have realized a looooong time ago. No, he wouldn’t screw things up. Not today. Today was Jayne’s birthday and he wanted it to be perfect for her.

Growing up, Jayne had always made a big deal of Nick’s birthday; she’d spend hours on his card, building little worlds between the sheets of construction paper that recreated things they’d done since his last birthday. She’d find a whole bunch of things for him that she probably couldn’t afford, like the 1970 Matchbox Ford Mustang, or the Ichiro Suzuki rookie card, and then she’d let him pick what they’d do that day.

Nick grinned. What he wanted to do on his birthday usually ended up being what he thought she wanted to do.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, tightening his hold. Her body curved against his, soft and warm, her breath ragged against his neck. She fit so perfectly, always had. With great reluctance, he set her down slowly, straightened her turban and tried not to notice the way she scrambled to tighten the belt around her robe. “Nice outfit.”

“I was in the shower,” she choked. Her smile quivered a little, but not too bad. “I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

“Hmm.” He tapped her nose, then turned her toward the stairs. “Go get dressed, ’cause we’ve got a busy day.”

A slow sparkle started in her eyes, until her lips finally curved into a smile, and then she was off up the stairs two at a time. They waited until she disappeared into the apartment then went back to the truck and hauled out the long flat box. Once they had a grip on it, they maneuvered it through the door and up the stairs, but not without banging the wall a couple
times.