CHAPTER 8 #5
Yes, she would do that. After all, it was the right thing to do.
“Take off your clothes.”
Nick blinked. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. Take off your shirt and pants and give them to me. I’ll throw them in the dryer, and you can be on your way.”
“Not how I imagined this.” He smirked. “But, OK.”
Smirk still planted on his face, he began undoing buttons, and damned if her eyes weren’t glued to his nimble fingers as his shirt began to part, and he shrugged out of it.
Whoa, what a chest. Had he gained even more muscle since the last time she’d seen him? Sure looked like it. Lord, he was fit. Hours and hours at the gym, she’d bet. The guys she knew who looked like that, all friends of Blake’s, invariably possessed some level of narcissism.
It suddenly occurred to her that she was standing two feet away, watching a man undress. It also occurred to her that he might take this too far.
Spinning around, she turned her back to him, resisting the urge to peek over her shoulder. “Leave your underwear on,” she said, her voice a tad too high.
“Not happenin’. Those are the most uncomfortable.” A pause. “Here.”
She hesitated for a beat before reaching back and taking his shirt, holding it away from herself as it dripped onto the limestone deck.
Keeping her head down, she stole a glance at him.
His fingers were on the silver buckle plate.
It disappeared into his palm as he tugged on it to undo his belt, then flicked open the button and grasped the zipper tab.
She hastily turned her head, heard the sound of wet fabric flopping, and then his hand appeared again, holding his pants and a pair of bright red boxers. The large white writing on one leg read, “REMOVE BEFORE FLIGHT,” the warning on the red safety tags typically used on parked aircraft.
Jannie stifled a hysterical laugh that came out as a snort. This was definitely something she would buy as gag gifts for her brothers, if buying underwear for them wasn’t weird.
She grabbed the wet clothes and started to go inside but realized that would mean leaving Nick, stark naked, on her patio. The lake would give him some privacy, as it was wide and the houses across it were far away, but the next-door neighbors would get an eyeful through the live hedge.
Tossing everything onto the summer kitchen counter, she shrugged out of her robe and offered it to him over her shoulder. “Here.”
A pause. “You’re kidding me,” he muttered.
“Take it. Or not. But I don’t think Mrs. Stevens next door would survive you flashing her. And her husband is a Vietnam vet. He might take issue.”
Nick grumbled something she didn’t catch.
He took the robe. “OK, I’m decent.”
Jannie faced him and pressed her lips together to hold back laughter at the sight of Nick in her yellow Donald Duck robe. The two sides of the garment barely met, but since it was oversized, it at least covered everything. Well, almost. A strip of chest was still very much visible.
“OK,” she said, collecting his clothes again, then headed toward the sliding door, pointing toward the double chaise lounge facing the pool. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Out here?”
“Well, yeah. I’ll throw these in the dryer and bring them when they’re ready. Oh, and I’ll get some newspapers and a fan for your shoes.”
She had hardly taken a step when he grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
He was silent for a beat. And then, his gaze caught hers. “Why are you afraid of me, Jannie?”
What?
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m not …” She closed her mouth, realizing she sounded defensive.
He stepped forward, somehow managing to look imposing even in that stupid old Donald Duck robe. “What about me is so scary?”
Your damned looks and wild sex appeal, that’s what.
She held his gaze. “I fear nothing. You know that.”
“Prove it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want to come in?”
“I already told you. To see you.”
“Why?”
He seemed to think through his response. “Because I missed my chance in high school, and then again in Vegas.”
“Your chance to … what?” She didn’t need this. Didn’t need him looking at her like … like that.
“To get to know you.”
In Vegas, she’d been disturbingly attracted to him. Even now, despite her messed-up mental state, he made her feel …
His steady, hopeful gaze disarmed her. Before she could rethink it, she pulled the heavy sliding door open and stepped aside.
“Fine. But only because you need to dry your clothes. You can’t stay long. I’m tired.”
She saw his skepticism; she knew damn well he didn’t believe her when it was obvious that she’d just rolled out of bed. Those dark eyes sparked flame as he crossed her threshold, his sensuous lips curving into a satisfied little smile.
“Where’s Cujo?” he asked, glancing around.
Her lips twitched. “In his crate. Don’t worry, he won’t bite.” She paused, then added, “Unless I tell him to.”
His answering smile was a bit tight. Nick followed her inside, and she acutely felt his presence behind her.
She motioned to the cognac leather sectional in the corner. “Sit.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He eased onto the sectional with smooth grace and sank into the cushions.
She ignored his sarcastic amusement and went to lock Rolf’s crate. Sure enough, he was in there, and she gave him a quick chin scratch before securing the latches. “Such a good boy.”
Returning to the family room, she plucked the remote from its charger, holding it out to Nick. “You can watch TV. I’ll throw these in the dryer, and then I’m going to take a shower.”
He nodded as if he approved. God, did she stink?
She likely did. The last time she’d bathed was Thursday night after work.
“I have some slides that might fit you. Look in the closet by the side door.”
Casting one last glance his way, she ducked into the bathroom.
Jannie shook her head. Nick had settled comfortably on her sofa as if his presence here were normal.
Wearing her favorite robe.
In spite of herself, a little smile tugged at her lips as she turned on the water, stripped, and stepped under the warm spray.
Nick
The reunion hadn’t gone as he had planned.
Nick flipped through channels, not really seeing what was on the huge plasma screen. All he saw was her expression when her gaze landed on him as he stood there in her pool.
Jannie claimed she wasn’t happy to see him, but her eyes and body language told a different story. Which was why he insisted she invite him in despite her reluctance.
He was right to show up. Despite still being the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he could tell she wasn’t well. Both her brothers had told him she was incommunicado, and they confirmed this wasn’t her usual behavior.
So, here he was, whether she wanted him here or not.
He scrolled to the National Geographic channel and read the title of the show, Lost on Everest, when he heard an odd thunk.
Nick paused and listened, but all he heard was the sound of rushing water coming from somewhere behind him.
Shoving away the mental image of Jannie naked in the shower, he clicked and started watching an interview with a young photographer when he heard the sound again.
Nick muted the TV and heard the thunk a third time, also detecting a faint whine. Tossing the remote aside, he rose and moved toward the sound, scanning the large open space.
An airy kitchen with white cabinets and a stove that looked immaculate, although the faded lettering by the burner knobs proved it was well used. Gleaming coral-and-black granite countertops, deep double sinks with not a dish or fork in sight.
Had she eaten at all today?
To the left, a built-in glass cabinet showcased a collection of fine china teacups and saucers.
Thunk.
Ah, it was coming from the hallway. Spotting a large dog crate, Nick approached cautiously but heard no barking, and no ferocious beast burst out of the sturdy plastic door. Instead, he heard the distinctive thump-thump-thump of what he realized was a wagging tail.
“Oh, it’s you, Cujo,” he said in a low tone. “Locked you up, did she?”
Louder thumping and a soft whine.
“You really want out, don’t you?”
Slowly, Nick bent down to peer into the crate. No teeth, no snarling, just big, soulful brown eyes and a calm doggy grin.
He considered for a moment. It wasn’t his place to release someone else’s dog, and the German Shepherd could very well attack him again, but everything he knew about dogs told him this one was no longer a threat.
Poor dog wanted out, and badly. Did he need to relieve himself? Maybe Jannie wouldn’t be upset if he let him out. Not too upset, anyway. He didn’t think she’d want the dog crapping in the crate.
Slowly, he reached for the latch, pausing to see if the shepherd reacted.
The tail wagged faster.
Nick squeezed the crate’s plastic latches. “All right, but if you bite me …”
The next second, the dog nosed the crate door, bursting out in a joyful bound.
“Whoa,” Nick said.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea.
The dog made a swift lap around the living area, in a way that told Nick he had excess energy to burn.
He came back around and sat directly in front of Nick, looking from him to the sliding glass door leading to the backyard, his round brown eyes pleading and eager at the same time.
“You want to go outside?”
The animal’s heavy tail swished excitedly against the floor. Nick glanced at the wall, behind which the sound of rushing water could be heard.
“I guess it’s all right.”
He needed something for his feet, and Nick remembered Jannie had mentioned some sort of slippers in the closet. He found several pairs neatly arranged in a row by size, but the only pair that fit him had smiley faces all over them.
Great, the very picture of a professional pilot: a Donald Duck robe and smiley-face rubber slides.
Shaking his head, he pushed his feet into them, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops, this time over an insane man in Jannie’s backyard.
Then again, this was Orlando. Maybe they’d just dismiss him as yet another Florida Man.