“Sorry. I ran straight here from my jog. Are you hurt? Let me help you up.” Jack’s worried tone made me pull myself together.
I grabbed his hand and got to my feet. My tank was damp from his sweat. I wanted to be disgusted, I really did. I thought back to my brother Joey and the way he’d be all like “let me give you a hug, sis” right after coming back from working out. “Gross!” I’d yell. But, now? Now, I wanted to lick the sweat off this guy’s six-pack. And that tattoo on his shoulder ... surprisingly, it was real, not painted on for a movie. I sighed. This was so not good. There was only one way this was going to end. Me: ruined for all men, sitting on my own, or maybe with Jazz, in the back of dark theatres shoveling popcorn into my mouth for the rest of my life. Watching him on celluloid.
* * *
“So ... what’s the deal here, you said you and your brother were fixing the house up, where are your parents?” Jack was standing, still shirtless with just a pair of longish black gym shorts on, in my kitchen finishing up the coffee I had made us. “Sorry. I’m not prying, just curious.”
“It’s ok. Sorry if I seem tense, it’s not you. Some people in this town are always breathing down our necks because this is the Butler House. My brother and I inherited it. It was my grandmother’s and should have gone to my parents, but they died about six years ago in a car wreck driving back from Savannah.”
I was proud of my ability to rattle off these facts with zero emotion. “My grandmother passed a few years later of heart failure, so it falls to us. It’s an historic monument of sorts, being that we are the Butlers of Butler Cove, so everyone in town is always complaining that it needs to be fixed up, but they won’t allocate funds to help unless we sell it to the town. Or at least agree to set it up as a museum or something that will help tourism. They know our parents had life insurance money, so they think we should have used that. Except, we needed it for Joey’s college. We still work on the house when we can. Or I do. As I said before, Joey’s at med school.”
“That’s tough.” Jack looked like he wanted to say something more. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
“Yeah, well. It’s life, huh?” I smiled to show I wasn’t expecting pity. “So this deal of yours may work for me after all. It will be good to make some headway on the interior stuff. I keep focusing on the outside because that’s what everyone sees. Are you sure it’s still ok?”
“It’s fine. Sorry I can’t help with the outside, I’d be too conspicuous. I told you I miss the days when I worked construction while juggling auditions. It was good, busy, creative work. A different sense of accomplishment. It’s good exercise, too.” He flexed his biceps jokingly, all his upper body muscles tensing. I found myself scowling at him.
“Well, I seem to be getting the better end of the deal,” I managed. “Or maybe I’m not, I haven’t seen your work yet.”
He laughed and ran his fingers through his unruly dark hair. “Let’s just say, I had a ‘day job’ to go back to, if the acting thing didn’t work out.”
“Ok, well, I’ll quickly go and change and get to the store.” I headed for the kitchen doorway. “There’s a toolbox in the attic. Text me if you think I need to pick up anything for the house. Help yourself to cereal or whatever. Oh, and ... borrow a t-shirt from Joey. Please. Second door on the left upstairs.” And on that note, I bolted up the stairs before I said anything else.
I locked myself in the bathroom and climbed into a cold shower. Maybe I could shock some sense into my system. Pointing out his shirtless state bothered me was not a smart move, but there was no way I could go another second with him parading around in front of me like that and pretend not to ogle him. He really was just the most arresting specimen of man I had ever seen. Ugh, I was so shallow. I should just tell him right away I didn’t want the help. But it was too ... tempting.
I had wanted to pull the carpet and re-finish the floors forever. And he could build bookshelves, he said. I was dying to make that parlor into a gorgeous library: a place to curl up and lose myself for a while. Getting a head start on the interior stuff, and free labor to boot, was too much to resist.
I climbed out of the shower, having scrubbed and washed every inch of myself repeatedly and absently, because apparently my mind was nowhere to be found. I wrapped my wet hair up, pulled my robe on, and scrambled, lest I bump into Jack again, back to my room to get dressed.
I looked around at the sage green walls and white linen bedclothes. They were supposed to be soothing colors, even though I could barely take it in with my books piled over every available surface.
I was anything but soothed. I was extremely uncomfortable, both with my shallow, lustful reaction to Jack, and the fact that Jack, a relative stranger, was in my house at all, especially while I had been in the shower naked. I knew I had been raised better than this, I just couldn’t for the life of me figure out how I was supposed to deal with this bizarre situation.
I pulled on jean shorts and a t-shirt, my staple wardrobe. I combed and pulled my wet hair up in a bun, shoved my feet back into my Keds, and headed back down toward my new bizarre reality.
* * *
The Piggly Wiggly grocery store was blessedly quiet. Schools had started back up and the summer crowds had gone home. Most back to Ohio. For some reason people from Ohio loved this part of the country. One would think the drive would be a little much, but apparently someone from Ohio must have had an amazing vacation down here once many years ago and bought some billboards or something when he got home.
I consulted the list Jack had scrawled out for me. His handwriting was atrocious.
Milk
Capn Crunch
Bananas
Cheese sticks
Sandwich bread
Peanut Butter
Jelly
O.J.
Pasta
Pasta sauce
Eggs
Bottled water
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. It was like shopping for a toddler. Without thinking, I fished out my phone and pulled up where he had saved his number under the name of Late Night Visitor. That wouldn’t arouse curiosity if Jazz ever saw my phone. I made a quick mental note to change it, and then tapped out a text.
Me: Cheese sticks? What r u? Like 5?
I moved on down the aisles collecting his and my purchases. A few minutes later my phone chirped back.
Late Night Visitor: You were rushing me, I couldn’t think. You don’t like cheese sticks?
Me: I love cheese sticks. In my lunch box. You eat any vegetables?
Late Night Visitor: I’ll have you know my body is my temple ;-) I’m on vacation from California crunchy. Yes, I eat vegetables. Grab some carrots, too.
I huffed just as my phone chirped again.
Late Night Visitor: Please.
I grinned and ignored the slow fizz in my belly that jumped every time my phone dinged with his response.
Me: Baby carrots and ranch dippies. Got it.
He just begged to be given a hard time.
Suddenly, my heart started going a mile a minute and I was breathing hard. Jack Eversea was in my house! I willed myself to calm down and catch my breath. He was just a person. A human being. Right? I bent down for a moment and stuck my head between my knees, hoping my blood would circulate normally again. Standing up a few moments later, I pulled myself together, looked around, and straightened my shirt.