Playing at Love Page 11

  “It was meant to be ironic.”

  “Apparently.” He grinned.

  Tess planted her hands on his hips, fighting back her own grin. She was enjoying this sparring session a little too much. “And what was that he said about your defense? Something about how members of the Lollipop Guild could break through it?”

  Jack cracked up. “Pretty clever writing, you have to admit.”

  Tess covered her laugh with a cough. “Why exactly are you here, again?”

  “I told you.” He leaned against the table. “I was invited.”

  “The Chevy,” Charlie cut in, sticking two pieces of bacon in his mouth.

  Tess closed her eyes and exhaled. “And how did that happen? I wasn’t aware that you two were friends now.”

  “We go way back,” Jack said, still grinning.

  This teasing had to stop. One brother was bad enough.

  “I was at the game last night,” Charlie explained. “I went down to the field afterward to say hello.” He lifted a crooked smile that only Tess could see. “Small world, huh?”

  Sure, Tess thought, narrowing her eyes at her brother’s smirking face. I’m sure it has nothing to do with my and Jack’s romantic history and your track record of torturing me. Charlie had never grown out of teasing Tess, especially about guys. If there were no witnesses present, she might’ve attempted to give her soldier brother a wedgie.

  Charlie took a drink of juice. “We got to talking about the Impala, and he offered to help.”

  Jack turned to Tess. “Just being neighborly,” he said. Then he winked.

  Tess didn’t like how Jack and Charlie were suddenly so buddy-buddy. And she especially didn’t like how Jack’s winking at her made her stomach feel all fluttery.

  “Um, okay. “ She shook her head in wonder. “I’ll be out back.”

  …

  “How long is your leave?” Jack asked, passing Charlie a socket wrench.

  “Another few weeks,” Charlie replied. Jack lowered the new car battery into place and Charlie began tightening the top bolts. “My unit is due back right before Christmas.”

  Jack leaned an elbow on the front of the Impala, staring down into the beautiful V-8 engine. “That’s a bitch,” he said as he walked to the side of the black muscle car. “But you like it?”

  “Yeah.” Charlie grunted as he tightened the final bolt. “We’re doing a lot of good over there, building schools and roads. So,” he said with a mischievous smile, “you and my sister?”

  Jack froze at the sudden change of subject. “Me and your sister, what?” he asked, crouching down to slide out an oil drain pan.

  Charlie tilted his head to shoot Jack a look over the side of the open hood.

  “There’s nothing going on,” Jack said, wiping his hands on a rag. “We work together. If it wasn’t for the budget cut, we would probably never cross paths.”

  “Hand me those pliers,” Charlie said.

  Jack reached over to the toolbox. “Here,” he said, passing the pliers over.

  “I saw you two in there earlier.” Charlie pointed in the general direction of the house. “You were flirting. And I’m not saying I’m against it.” He unscrewed a can of transmission fluid, then looked up at Jack. “I’m just saying I noticed.”

  Jack frowned. “I don’t think we were flirting.”

  “You were bantering.”

  “Okay.” Jack couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe.”

  Charlie left the open hood, walked around the side of the car, and leaned against the passenger door. After a beat, he picked up a grease gun and slapped the business end against his palm like it was a real weapon.

  “Look, man.” Charlie slapped his palm again. “I’m just saying: she’s my sister, and you know I’ll kill you if you hurt her and whatnot. But really, don’t screw around with her. That problem at school isn’t just about her job. Okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Charlie hesitated, then kicked the hydraulic jack over to the grass. “Nothing,” he finally said. “It’s her information to disclose, not mine. If she wants to tell you about it, that’s up to her.” He walked back to the front of the car. “That stupid choir means the world to her, though. So, like I said…” He aimed the grease gun at Jack. “Don’t screw with her.”

  “I won’t; I like her,” Jack said without thinking.

  When Charlie tilted his head, Jack immediately regretted his comment.

  “You like her? What the hell does that mean?” Charlie asked as he straightened out, one hand on the top of the open hood.

  Jack stood up, dropping the bunch of spark plug wires he’d been untangling. “Nothing,” he said. “I don’t mean anything by that. She’s likable, that’s all. Don’t worry.”

  “Don’t make me worry and I won’t.” Charlie flashed him a quick smile.

  “Hypothetically, though,” Jack said a moment later, “if something were to happen, you’d be okay with it?”

  Charlie looked up. “Has something already happened?”

  “No, I’m just saying. Do you know, is she seeing anyone?”

  Charlie leaned on the open hood. “Not that I know of. She was dating this lawyer a while ago, some guy who looked a little like Tom Brady. Before that, she was with a member of the Special Forces, then a doctor—no, a surgeon, a pediatric heart surgeon.”

  Jack nodded. “I get it, man. You’re protective.”

  Charlie slammed the hood shut then walked around to the side of the car, picking up a tire iron along the way, even though they weren’t about to work on the tires.

  “She’s my little sister,” Charlie said, fingering the curved, heavy end of the tool. “And she deserves the very best. If she is not getting the best, and I happen to be around…” He paused and looked up. “Well, there might be some trouble.” As he breezed by Jack, he gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Time to hydrate, my friend.”

  Jack hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until Charlie disappeared into the garage, walking toward the outside refrigerator, tire iron still in hand.

  Jack thought Charlie probably made a very intimidating soldier.

  …

  Tess sat in a lounge chair next to her mother, who was digging in the garden. It was turning into a warm, sunny day. Except for her morning runs, lately she was hardly ever outside. She closed her eyes, tilted her chin, and soaked in the sun.

  “You need a hat,” her mom said from her place down in the flower bed.

  “I’m working on my tan,” Tess replied.

  “How can you say that?” Tess heard her mom stand up. “Your great-aunt Lola just died of skin cancer.”

  Tess opened her eyes a crack to look at her mom. “Aunt Lola was a hundred and one,” she pointed out. “And she didn’t just die; it was six years ago.”

  “I’m going to get you a hat,” Mom said, peeling off her pink gardening gloves. “The beige one with the floppy brim and tie around the neck.”

  Tess flew to her feet. “Mom! No need to threaten me with the monster hat. I’m going inside now, anyway.” She picked up her flip-flops and walked barefoot across the grass.

  Back in the house, Tess leaned against the kitchen island and downed a bottle of water. After tossing the empty plastic in the recycle bin, she nearly knocked over the neatly stacked pile of dishes sitting on a towel next to the sink. Charlie knew where the clean dishes went, so Jack must have washed and dried these. Tess ran a finger over the top of one platter.

  When she heard a burst of laughter, she looked out the window. Charlie and Jack were sitting on the driveway, engaged in some amusing, testosterone-infused, car-related conversation, it would seem.

  Not for the first time in the past week, Tess contemplated how wretched their timing was. If she and Jack had reconnected under any other circumstances, things might be different. She bit her lip. What was most unfair was that she couldn’t stop her feelings. Her heart didn’t know it was impossible to get involved with Jack. Being in her pare
nts’ house only reminded her of that. So, her head had to keep her eye on the prize—she couldn’t allow herself to become any more emotionally involved with her adversary.

  When Jack tossed her brother some random tool, she noticed how graceful he was. She’d noticed that at the pool, too. His strokes had been powerful yet smooth, cutting through the water with ease. That same night, she’d also discovered how tender those powerful arms could be.

  She shook her head and started putting away the dishes, trying to clear her mind of Jack and his arms.

  “Let me help you with those.”

  Tess knew it was Jack before she turned around. She knew his voice, yes, but she could also feel when he was near.

  “Where’s Charlie?” she asked.

  “Ran to AutoZone.”

  “Oh.” His dark hair was a little messy in back, probably from lying on the ground under the car or something. Tess noticed the Saturday-morning stubble on his chin. It looked good on him. Very good. One T-shirt sleeve was boyishly pushed up over his shoulder. It was probably pretty hot outside by now. Yeah, pretty hot…

  “So?” Jack said, startling Tess. “Where do the glasses go?”

  “Are your hands clean?” she asked.

  He displayed them. “As a whistle.”

  “Hmm.” Tess narrowed her eyes and reached out to examine them. She took his right hand in both of hers and flipped it over a few times. Jack chuckled. After checking out his surprisingly clean nails, she flipped his hand over again. He pulled on it, thinking she was finished, but Tess wasn’t ready to let go. When Jack took a step closer, his hand still in hers, she felt her heart bang in her chest.

  Slowly and gently, with the pads of her fingers, she traced his palm, circling the middle. The lines were deep and long. She traced them lightly with her index finger, trailing back to linger on the inside of his wrist.

  When she heard Jack’s ragged inhale, she lifted her eyes.

  “Tess,” he whispered, looking down at her. “I can’t stop thinking about the other night.”

  Tess inhaled her own uneven breath. “Neither can I.”

  He took another step, cutting the distance between them to mere inches, close enough that Tess could smell the motor oil, the hand soap, and that distinctive scent that could only be described as Jack.

  “I think we need to do something about it.”

  “So do I,” Tess agreed easily. She felt her stomach quiver when Jack slid his hand up her arm to the inside of her elbow.

  “Any suggestions?”

  “Well.” She was so breathless, she could barely get the word out. “We probably should…talk…about it. Right?”

  Jack pulled back a slow smile. “When?”

  As she smoothed her lips together, she noticed Jack’s eyes drop to her mouth. “Tonight,” she said, watching him watch her, feeling her heart hammering. “I’ve got something, but I can cancel it.”

  Jack lifted his gaze to her eyes. “I’ve got something, too,” he said. “But so can I.”

  They both inhaled and stepped away from each other when they heard the back door close.

  “How about I give you a call later?” Jack suggested in a casual manner. “Let’s program your number into my phone.” He reached into his back pocket but then frowned. “My cell is out on the porch with my keys,”

  “I’ll go get it.” Tess pointed to the cabinet behind him. “The glasses go there.”

  Screw the rules, she thought as she took a quick glance at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her. Jack is a good guy. And we’re adults. If we want to get together to talk…we should be allowed.

  “Be right back,” she said, returning his smile.

  …

  Jack was whistling as he lined the shelf with the clean glasses. Sure, it wasn’t an ideal situation, but this woman was different. It was complicated, but something inside told him that she was worth it. Hell, he’d realized that about her when he was fifteen. Tess was special, and she made him feel things that he hadn’t felt in years.

  He was still whistling when he strolled outside. Charlie was leaning against the Impala. His arms were folded and he was glaring at Jack. At least there was no tire iron around.

  “What did you do to her?” Charlie said.

  “What?” Jack asked, confused. “Nothing.” He turned to look where Tess’s car had been parked. It wasn’t there now. “Where is she?”

  Charlie tossed a wrench into the toolbox. “She’s gone,” he said. “She looked at something on your phone, handed it to me, then told me to tell you ‘Forget it.’ I cleaned up her language, by the way. And then she left.”

  Jack scratched his head and gazed up the street where she would’ve driven off, completely flabbergasted.

  “So I’ll ask you again.” Charlie took a step forward. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing, man. I swear.” Jack held up his hands. “Five minutes ago, we were—” He cut himself off, not wanting to reveal how he’d almost pressed Tess against the pantry door and devoured her. Something told Jack that would not go over well with her Army brother.

  Despite their earlier conversation, Charlie didn’t actually seem like an overly protective brother. He must’ve thought that Tess was truly upset about something. But what?

  Jack rubbed his chin. “Look, nothing happened. We were planning a…a date, actually. I have no idea why she took off like that.”

  Charlie shrugged after a thoughtful moment. “Well, she was pissed about something,” he said. “Shake it off, man; chicks be cray-cray.”

  Jack tried to laugh it off, but something felt very wrong. When he picked up his phone, he sifted through the contact list, hoping she had added her information. But she hadn’t. There was a new text message, however, and it wasn’t from Tess.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Here’s to your triumph!” Mac said, lifting her glass. It twinkled under the restaurant’s track lighting.

  Tess laughed, already feeling tipsy from pure joy. “It wasn’t my triumph,” she corrected. “It was Penny’s, the entire school’s. Long live Franklin High’s music program!”

  “From your mouth to Walker’s ear,” Mac said, clinking her drink against Tess’s.

  After emptying her glass, Tess set it on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Wasn’t Penny amazing last night?” she said. “When she accidentally stumbled into the mike at first, I thought she was going to lose it like last week. It was a close call, but I swear, the girl is really getting it together; grace under pressure.” She shook her head. “I certainly wasn’t like that when I was seventeen.”

  “Neither of us was,” Mac agreed.

  Tess sipped her drink. “She wants to transfer into NYU’s musical theater program.”

  “Oh, that program is awesome.” Mac popped a pretzel in her mouth. “She’d probably do great.”

  “Yeah,” Tess said, fingering her coaster. Now if I can just figure out a way to get her some financial aid, she said to herself.

  “Rick’s write-up was pretty sweet, don’t you think?” Mac added, pointing at the newspaper she’d brought along for the occasion. “If the other team’s quarterback hadn’t hurt his arm in the first quarter, our guys wouldn’t have run away with the win, and the whole story would’ve been about the halftime show.”

  “Oh?” Tess said, looked off to the side. “Did the football team win? I guess I skipped over that part of the article.” Though she was doing her best to keep her own eyes averted, Tess could feel Mac looking at her.

  “Yeah,” Mac said slowly. “It was a pretty exciting game. It’s been years since Franklin scored over forty. Didn’t you stay for the whole thing?”

  Tess shrugged noncommittally. “I’m trying to physically stay away from that scene as much as I can,” she answered. “Besides the parents of the choir kids, no one wants to see me at the games.” She sighed. “The school is becoming more and more polarized. The whole town is. I was stopped at the grocery store the other day by some irate g
uy who doesn’t even have a kid at the school. He about took my head off, saying I was single-handedly destroying Franklin’s greatest tradition.” She shook her head, banishing the memory from her mind. “I’m beginning to wonder if it was such a good idea to get the newspaper involved—”

  “It’s not Rick’s fault!” Mac blurted.

  Tess eyed her friend. “You’re defending him,” she said, then leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “Did he ever call you after you tracked him down to give him your card that day at the paper?”

  Mac frowned, resting her chin in her hand. “No. Maybe he’s playing hard to get.”

  “Or maybe he’s trying to keep things professional with you.”

  This seemed to perk Mac up. “You think so?”

  “Stranger things have happened.” Tess laughed.

  Mac thought for a moment. “Yeah, I mean, he’s just doing his job, right?”

  “Right.” Tess nodded. “The whole situation is getting pretty ugly, though.” She stared out the window toward the dark street; headlights reflected off the wet concrete. “And poor Jack, there were actual picketers blocking the locker room entrance at the game last night.” She turned to Mac. “Can you believe it?”

  “Poor Jack?” Mac repeated slowly. “Since when did he become poor Jack?”

  “Oh.” Tess started fingering the rim of her glass. “Umm.”

  As her lifelong best friend, Mac knew all about what happened with Jack fifteen years ago. But their recent history, well, Tess had played most of that close to the vest.

  “Umm,” she repeated, twirling a tiny pink drink umbrella between her fingers. “Since never. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Mackenzie leaned back in her chair. Tess didn’t like the way she was being studied by her very perceptive friend. “What’s going on between you two?” Mac asked. “You told me about what happened at the park. But…” She folded her arms. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”

  Tess dropped her chin, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “Nothing’s going on,” she finally said. “Well, I mean, nothing’s going on anymore.”