Say You'll Never Love Me (12 page)

He laughed. “Scout’s honor. Just a wind scorpion.”

She dug nails into flesh, drew her feet up his body, and shrieked again. “A scorpion! A scorpion!”

He weaved, but held onto her. “They look vicious, but they aren’t. They’re more afraid of you.”

“It was so fast.” She clutched his neck with one hand and reached for the wine with the other. She took a long pull from the bottle, swallowed, and sucked in a deep breath.

He was losing his grip, so he tightened his arms around her waist. Any other time, he’d be glad to have her clinging to him, but his back started to throb. “Hey, go easy on that. You’ll make yourself sick.”

She took another swig.

“Can you let up on your hold a bit? My left side is going numb.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released him and drank again.

He rubbed his back, then rolled a blanket into a makeshift pillow and placed it at the end of the quilt in the bed of the truck. “Lie back and watch the stars come out. That should calm you down.”

“Promise no more wind bugs?”

He glanced around. “I don’t see any.” He crawled onto the quilt and his back eased a bit.

She reclined next to him. “Wow.”

“I told you there’d be a beautiful sunset and night sky.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t offset the dust and scorpions.”

WHEN THE EVENING
ended, Jared knew Raynie had accomplished everything on her list and then some. Dance. Sing. Be irresponsible. And plenty drunk. He tried to talk to her, but couldn’t rouse her. As much as he hated to, he turned on the overhead light and dug around in her purse. The invasion of privacy proved useless. He didn’t find any keys.

By the time he reached the city limits, she slouched in the seat, and with no way into her house, he made a decision. He’d take her to his.

After parking, he opened her door and attempted to help her out, but it was like trying to control a hundred pound wet noodle. He winced in pain as he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her inside.

He eased her onto the mattress, and removed her shoes, then sat on the edge staring at her. God, she was so beautiful, and if he wanted to keep her from hating him, he needed to confess. And in her drunken state, she might be more forgiving. “Raynie.” No response. He gave her a gentle shake. “Raynie?”

“Mmm.”

“I need to tell you something. I’m not a preacher.”

Silence.

“I should have told you days ago, but things kept happening.”

She shifted and laid her hand on his thigh, a little too close for comfort. “Mmm.”

“Did you hear me?”

Nothing.

He spoke slower. Louder. “I’m. Not. A. Preacher.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she patted him. “I was lucky to meet you, too.”

“I didn’t say meet you, I said preach—shit.”

“Mmm.”

“Never mind.” He went into the bathroom. His backside ached. During the bug incident, when he’d caught her, something strained. A muscle? Nerve? Moral code? Whatever, it hurt like a sonovabitch. A hot shower would help.

Water pelted his lower back until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He considered crashing on the couch, but what could be the harm in sleeping together? She was down for the count, and he’d be up long before her. Besides, with his injury, he didn’t think he would survive on the sofa. He pulled on a pair of running shorts and tee-shirt, then downed a couple of pain relievers.

When he crawled between the sheets, she slid next to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. Dang, this might be harder than he thought. He lifted her wrist and returned it to her side only to have her snuggle closer, snake it to the same spot, and press her cheek to his chest. He might need another shower. This time a cold one. He squeezed his eyes tight and counted backwards from a hundred.

The music in his dream provided the perfect tempo for a slow dance. But the words the guy sang made no sense. Thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one. Swaying in his arms, Raynie felt so good he didn’t want to let her go, but something kept poking him. He slapped at it. “Stop.”

“Oh, crap. Did I take advantage of you?”

He jerked from his dream. Raynie gazed at him. Clothes rumpled, hair standing on end, she was still gorgeous. “What you’d say?”

She fell back on the pillow. “Did I come on to you? Please say I didn’t.”

He laughed so hard the bed shook.

“It isn’t funny.”

“Yeah, it is. When a woman wakes up in a man’s bed, she’s usually the one asking about being taken advantage of, not the other way around. Men don’t consider advances from the opposite sex a bad thing. More like a stroke of good luck.”

“That might be true with most men. But you’d never do anything inappropriate, so did I—or not?”

“You can relax. Our virtues are still in tack.”

She placed a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness.”

Jared sat up and shoved his pillow behind him. Her kind words caused guilt to surface again. One minute he wanted to confess, and the next thought it best to leave well enough alone. This was a confession moment. “Listen, there’s something I need to say.”

She followed suit and leaned against the headboard. “Me, first. I don’t think I’ve told you how important our meetings are. I’m not even a member of your church and you’ve taken time to help me. You’re the kindest, sweetest, most understanding man I’ve ever met.”

“Raynie . . .”

She raised her palm as if taking an oath. “No, let me finish. You have no idea what last night meant. You went to so much trouble to make me feel better. About Celeste. The problem at school. My insecurity. You make me more confidant. Like I can be a good role model for Silbie.”

“You give me too much credit. I . . .”

Now both hands shot into the air. “Please. Let me get this out. I don’t want another day to pass without you knowing how much I appreciate the time you’ve given me. Sometimes I come across as unreliable, flakey, and shameful—“

“Don’t talk about yourself that way. You’re none of those things. And, I’m not the perfect man you think I am. I’m—“

She bolted upright. “Now you stop! No matter what you say, you’re a wonderful person and without getting mushier, thank you for everything you’ve done. Let’s leave it at that. Okay?” She checked her watch. “You need to take me home. I’ve got to pick up Silbie.” She grabbed her shoes in one hand and her purse in the other, then faced him again. “Oh, what did you want to tell me?”

Dammit to hell. Why’d she have to say all that, and gaze at him like he was some kind of superhero? He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I searched your purse for keys and couldn’t find them. That’s why I brought you here.”

“That’s okay. I’m not upset.” She glanced and pointed. “Bathroom. Right?

“Yeah.” He watched her close the door, then ran his fingers through his hair and stared up as if God himself was on the ceiling. “So? Are you ever going to let me tell her the truth? Come on, Man, you’ve got to help me here.” He waited for a sign. An answer. Nothing came. Maybe silence was his answer.

What you seek, is seeking you.

~~Rumi

JARED THOUGHT ABOUT
the praise Raynie poured on. If she knew the truth, she’d take it all back. Not like he hadn’t tried to set things straight. He had. More than once. Lately, his life seemed like a bad B-movie, where he’d yell at the screen when characters avoided what needed to be said or explained. Why couldn’t they spit it out? Well, now he understood.

He walked around to the other side of the bed and picked a long blonde strand from the pillow. How he’d love to run his fingers through those curls. Crush them in his hands. Pull her face in close . . . he stopped. Regardless of the attraction, he couldn’t allow feelings to develop. He smoothed the cover and something dropped to the floor. An earring. Stuffing the hoop in his pocket, he headed to the office.

On Saturday, he worked non-stop to catch up on everything. By putting in weekends, he hoped Dad wouldn’t think he was a slacker.

The screen on his phone lit up and so did his eyes when he read the caller. “Hey Raynie, Silbie survive the lock-in?”

“Yeah, and her exact words—totally awesome. Hasn’t stopped talking about it. Sounds like her vocal performance was a big hit.”

“Wish I’d seen it.”

“You can. I ordered a copy of the video. What are you doing?”

“Nothing as exciting as watching you dance.” He chuckled.

“Are you making fun?”

“No. You were great, especially when you discovered your partner. I think you invented some new moves.”

“Smartass.”

He laughed harder. This time she didn’t apologize for using a bad word. “What are you up to?”

“I don’t know if I’ve told you or not, but I have no kitchen skills, so I can’t invite you over for a home-cooked meal. But Silbie and I would love to take you out.”

“Sounds great, but I can’t tonight.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, and he liked that.

“I’m meeting an old drinking buddy. The owner of the sunflower field. My way of thanking him for the atmosphere.”

“Some other time, then.”

“Yeah. Tell Silbie hello for me.”

“Sure. Bye. Have fun tonight.”

“Thanks.” He ended the call and stared at his phone. The excitement of hearing her voice surprised him. What was he doing? He couldn’t get interested in her. If he did, he was setting himself up for heartbreak. He turned his attention back to his computer and pushed images of Raynie out of his head so he could concentrate on work.

By four o’clock, he finished the first draft for his new client, Harland Winchester. An extreme contemporary plan, and although the style wasn’t Jared’s strong point, he thought he’d come up with something the guy would approve. Storefront windows. Metal roof and siding. Concrete countertops. Douglas fir ceilings. The house featured five fireplaces, swimming pool, media room, and an attached apartment home. The place reminded him of a golf course club house, but he’d given the man everything he’d asked for. At almost a million dollar budget, he didn’t have to cut corners.

He typed up a quick email and sent the proposal. Once he got Harland’s initial reaction, he could move forward.

Jared locked up the office and stepped outside. Wind whipped at the collar of his shirt, and he thought of Raynie again. Maybe she’d stay long enough to find out dust storms didn’t happen that often. When they did, he admitted they were insufferable, but every city had good and bad points. Lubbock didn’t have the humidity Austin did.

While he showered, he mulled over next week’s schedule. Once the Winchester construction started, Jared planned to submit the project to Architecture Digest. A feature in the magazine might bring in enough business Dad could retire.

Thirty minutes later, Jared shoved his hand deep into his jeans’ pocket and clutched his keys. Across the street, a car swung from the curb and sped away. Beth? No. Now he was getting paranoid.

As the sun set, he parked in the drive at his parent’s house. His brother would insist on using his van since it was wheelchair accessible. Ducking his head inside the backdoor, Jared yelled, “Anybody home?”

“We’re in here.”

He crossed the room to hug Mom.

“Maggie says y’all are taking a boy’s night out.”

“Yeah. We’re meeting Pate McGuire. You remember him, don’t you?”

“Sure. Bull rider. Married right out of high school. Big boy as I recall.”

“That’s him. Can you believe he has a teenager?”

She tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “I’d be thankful to get a grandchild from you.”

“All in good time.”

“Says the man who doesn’t even have a girlfriend.”

Dad walked into the kitchen. “Leave the boy alone, Elizabeth. If you don’t watch it, he’ll marry someone you can’t stand, then you’ll be hoping he won’t reproduce.”

Jared liked that Dad always came to his rescue. “I went to the office today and worked up a plan for Winchester’s house. I emailed you a copy.”

“Great. I’ll take a gander.”

“Well, I better go.” He hoped to get out of there before Mom’s lecture, but that didn’t happen.

“If y’all need a designated driver, call me,” she said.