Sweet Nothings (14 page)

Her head tilted to the side. “You’d be perfectly happy to roll around with me for the night, then be nothing but friends the next morning?” she asked. “Because I have to tell you, that might be something I could get behind.”

The idea of having her naked in his hands and then maintaining a nothing-but-friends relationship didn’t exactly sit well with him. Other
women maybe. But with her? It sounded good in theory, but something told him it would be harder to pull off than it seemed.

“See!” she raised her voice, pointing at him. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“I didn’t say anything.” His own voice rose to match hers, his hands going up in the air.

“You didn’t have to. I read it on your face. You would definitely want more.”

This was the weirdest conversation he’d ever had. Frustrated, he began pacing again, then stopped in front of her. He grabbed her hand and held it down by his side. “The pause was because yes, I might want more. In all honesty, I
do
want more.
Someday
. But that’s not what my asking you out was about. It’s not what I’m looking for right now. I just thought we could have a good time.”

“But that’s why I said no. Because you do want more. Someday.”

“So you won’t even give us a chance? Maybe we wouldn’t be good together and this whole conversation is a moot point.”

Her eyebrows raised, and he had to give her credit. Based on their kiss, he suspected boredom in the bedroom would not be a problem between them.

“I know better than to risk it, Nick.” Her voice lowered and she squeezed his hand in hers. “I’m not the relationship kind of girl. I actually
only
do the sex.”

“I do that too,” he insisted. He said the words, but acknowledged that hearing them from her caused a stutter in his heart. They sounded so callous.

He had the thought to ask why she was that way, but suspected it had to do with her mother. Bad experiences. The Bigbee Curse. He wanted to growl at the mere idea of it.

She shook her head. “You need more. I can’t give it to you.”

He hated when people thought they knew what he needed. “Fine,” he snapped out, releasing her. “You win. We won’t go out.”

“It’s for the best,” she started, but he stopped her with a look.

She tilted her face up to his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Go find yourself a girl who does want more. No matter how hot our kiss, you and I just don’t make sense.”

He lifted his hand to rub the backs of his fingers over her cheeks before realizing what he’d done. The softness reminded him she was right. He’d want more from her. If he couldn’t have it, better to know it now. He lowered his hand.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetness. You’re right.” Though it felt like acid burning his stomach as she said the words. “You and I weren’t meant to be. We’ll just continue being friends. How about that?”

A sweet smile curved her mouth and his blood rushed south, belying his words. “I’d like that very much,” she said.

Perfect
. Just what he needed. A
friend
who kissed like a sex goddess and dressed like a wet dream. This was going to be a breeze.

Chapter Eight

J
oanie picked her way across the uneven gravel, lamenting the fact her grandmother had never seen fit to pave the driveway. It was one more expense she would have to come up with the money for since she’d forgotten to make sure it was in the estimate for the work Nick was doing. She couldn’t very well turn a house into a jewel when the first thing buyers saw was a ratty old driveway.

But she’d worry about that some other day. Tonight she had other things on her mind. Dealing with Nick and not thinking about having sex with him, for one. Ever since that had been tossed out the day before, that’s
all
she’d been thinking about.

A single kiss with the man had left her panties wet and her tongue twisted in knots. She couldn’t imagine what naked, head-to-toe contact would do to her. And it didn’t help any that it had been months since she’d gone out with a man.

“Ouch.” She gritted her teeth as she stepped on the gravel wrong and twisted her ankle in her high-heeled boots. Why she’d come over directly from work instead of running home to change clothes, she had no idea. It wasn’t as if she was trying to impress Nick.

She had a job to do, and it was going to be a dirty one. Showing up in a dress was ridiculous. Especially coupled with the boots. Just because
Nick didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off her legs when she wore boots didn’t mean she needed to taunt him with them.

Or taunt herself with silly ideas.

They weren’t going to date, for crying out loud. Heck, she’d told him to go find someone else. It would be silly to try to impress a man she had no intentions of getting involved with.

She climbed the steps, doing her best to shove away the anxiety she’d felt since their conversation the day before, and went to the door. Since he knew she was coming over this afternoon, she didn’t knock, just reached for the knob instead. She found the door locked.

Taking a step back, she stared up at it as if doing so would explain the situation. There was a light glowing through the bare living-room window. Yet as she looked at it, she realized the single bulb seemed to be the only one on in the house. She tilted her head back to stare at the porch fixture above her. It was on.

Was he out?

Maybe he’d run out for dinner and would be back soon?

Swirling around to look at the driveway, she noticed his truck wasn’t there. How did she keep missing something so large?

“Stupid men,” she muttered. “Never can do what is expected of them.”

What was she supposed to do now? Go back home? Wait around on the porch for him to return?

She rolled her eyes. No. She was neither going to go home nor wait. He had been fully aware she was coming over tonight. She’d told him only yesterday afternoon. That meant she could go on in and there would be nothing wrong with it.

Returning to the car for her purse, she dug around inside until she found her spare key, then unlocked the front door. Though she wasn’t in the mood to wait on Nick, she also wasn’t thrilled to paw through GiGi’s bedroom alone. The idea of it just felt too personal. Vulnerable.

GiGi was going to die someday, and close relationship or not, that was going to be rough.

She thought about the call she’d made to GiGi’s doctor the other day. He’d confirmed she had gotten worse—her heart was steadily
declining—but had said she potentially had weeks, even months, left. The nurses had told her just that morning that, though GiGi was continuing to keep to her room, she had looked a little brighter when she got up today.

Joanie took that and went with the more positive. It wouldn’t be weeks, but months. It had to. They needed more time.

She still would have preferred Nick be there tonight, though. Knowing he was in the house made going through everything easier.

She pushed the door open and the first thing she noticed when she stepped inside was how much had been done since she’d been there Monday. It was even beginning to smell like new construction instead of old person.

The living room carpet was gone, and only a single recliner and the TV remained in the room. Nick had moved some of the larger items into the garage, waiting for her to either dump them or take them somewhere else, so she assumed the couch and end tables had seen the same fate.

Walking through the rooms, she set the box of cupcakes down and dropped her purse on the rickety kitchen table. He’d really made a lot of changes this week. She pulled out a slim camera and began taking pictures to show GiGi the next time she went to see her.

The wall connecting the utility room was new, the built-in corner cabinet had been stripped down to bare wood, and the cabinets had been ripped out and replaced with lots and lots of gorgeous, glossy cream-colored wood. Suddenly the room hinted that it might belong in the twenty-first century. It looked like what a farmhouse should look like. She turned a circle in the middle of the space, taking in the rest of the room.

The browning linoleum had been ripped up and remained in a heap on the kitchen floor, with the dusty curtains that had once hung on every window now draped over the top of the pile. She picked her way down the bare hallway to the back of the house, poking her head into rooms as she went, finding boxes and piles of GiGi’s belongings shoved to the middle of the rooms.

A toothbrush in a glass cup caught her attention in the bathroom and she stepped inside the room and looked around. Pieces of Nick dotted the place.

She turned and left. She wasn’t there to dig through the man’s stuff. She had work to do. Might as well get to it and enjoy the quiet evening alone.

She reached down and unzipped her boots, then tugged them off. No need to prance around in hot shoes if there was no one around to appreciate them. She then headed into the master bedroom to work.

This was the space Nick had claimed as his, and she could swear she smelled him the instant she stepped through the door. Hot maleness assaulted her senses, and she
knew
that was the imprint of his head in the pillow of the unmade bed.

Nerves twisted inside her. The sight of the tangled sheets did nothing to help her peace of mind, as all she could do was imagine Nick lying there asleep. Or not asleep.

She fanned her face. She had to stop thinking of him like that.

Turning right, she opened the closet door and frowned at the mess stacked from floor to ceiling.
Sigh
. She wished Nick was there with her.

A thigh-high pile of trash, four bags of clothes for Goodwill, and three boxes of fabric for the quilting ladies later, she sat back on her heels and eyed her work. She was only a third of the way through the small closet. And she’d thought this would be an easy place to start.

She stood and pulled two boxes down from the top, discovering part of GiGi’s collection of spoons, and decided she would take those home and sort through them later. Next was a cigar box crammed full of envelopes.

As she flipped through them, she found they were all addressed to GiGi, with postmarks dating back to the fifties. She pulled out the wad of pages from one of the envelopes, and flipped through them, only to find Pepaw’s scrawled signature at the bottom of the last page. She flipped the envelope over in her hand and squinted at the return address, then her eyes grew wide.

Korea?

She once again scoured the letter, skimming over the words, then slowed and read more carefully. It was a love letter.

They hadn’t gotten married until he’d returned from the war, but he’d been sweet on her before he left. This one was dated 1951. Pepaw would have been eighteen, and GiGi fifteen.

How precious.

Her insides went warm and melty at the thought of him wooing her from all the way on the other side of the world, and she sat on the floor to begin sorting through them, peeking inside each to read the handwritten dates so she could put them in chronological order.

Before she got through more than a handful, she heard a noise outside and scrambled to her feet.

Slamming car doors kicked her into a faster speed until she realized it had been more than one door closing. Who was here? When she got to the living room, instead of stepping over and looking out the main window, she peeked out the narrow window framing the door to find Nick escorting a buxom, overdressed, over-made-up woman to the front porch.

Joanie recognized her instantly.

Gina Gregory.

Everyone knew Gina was not only on the hunt for a husband, but she would stoop to any level to get one. Do
anything
to get one.

Irritation tightened Joanie’s shoulders. Gina probably thought she’d already found one.

Before Joanie could do more than straighten and step back behind the door, Nick opened it and motioned Gina in, giggles, wiggles, strong perfume, and all.

The woman made Joanie’s teeth hurt.

“So this is where you’re staying?” Gina’s slightly slurred comment kept Joanie from speaking, but the familiar way Gina ran her hand up Nick’s arm literally brought bile to Joanie’s throat. There was no way he could miss the signals Gina was lobbing. If the body language didn’t do it, the massive expanse of boobage muffin-topping out of her shirt would.

Joanie’s stomach rolled. She caught a reflection of herself in the darkened side window and wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Her hair was a mess with curls sticking out in every direction and a nice dust bunny riding high on the crown of her head.

She swatted at her hair while at the same time swiping at the streak of dust across her chest with the other hand. Nick caught her in the act, looking like she was playing the game where kids try to pat their heads
and rub their tummies at the same time. Only she wasn’t rubbing her tummy.

“Joanie?” Nick stopped. “I thought you’d be gone already.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You parked beside my car.”

“Hmmm,” he said. “I guess I did.”

Did he think his going out with Gina was going to make her jealous?