Home Is Where the Heat Is (7 page)

Claire slapped her hand over her bright red face. “That’s not what I meant.”

He drowned his laughter in the icy Coke. “I’m sorry.” But he couldn’t help grinning. “Tell me what I, um, probed.”

“No. Not if you won’t be serious.” She sat back and jammed a straw into her water glass. “They forgot my lemon.”

“I’ll get you one.” He waved at the waitress, who nodded, then he turned his attention back to Claire. “I’m serious. You said you started it in junior high. What happened then?”

She wrapped her pink lips around that lucky straw and pulled the water in.

Damn it, woman, you’re gonna kill me.

She leaned back as the waitress set their plates in front of them piled high with mashed potatoes and dripping gravy onto the table. “Thank you.”

“Will you bring her a lemon wedge for her water?”

She nodded and hurried off. Claire wiped gravy off the edge of her plate and tasted the deep fried batter, mouthing ‘wow’ at JT.

“Good?” He dug into his potatoes.

“Oh yeah.” She ripped the skin off the chicken and stuffed it in her mouth. JT groaned as she licked her fingers. She grinned as if she knew his crotch was getting stiff under the table, and gave her fingertips one more tempting lick just to punish him.

“My parents split up when I was in sixth grade.” She grabbed a lemon from the plate the waitress slid onto the table, and squeezed it into her water. “The divorce proceedings went on for a couple of years, and they’re still arguing. They fight about everything, except their kids.”

Gears ground in JT’s head as he attempted to shift topics from finger licking to parental failing. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “I guess they assumed we’d live with Mom. She and my dad got so wrapped up in their selfish issues that they didn’t pay any attention to my sisters and me.”

This sounds familiar.
Bad memories popped up like road blocks. He’d navigated his father’s depression, helping him steer through it, but his mother’s rejection stopped him at every turn, deflecting his attempts to keep her close. She’d wanted nothing to do with him.

Claire picked up her spoon. “So when my friends and I disagreed about something, I’d run off, testing them to see if they really cared.” She stabbed her mashed potatoes, making curved dents in the smooth surface. “Once, when I was in high school, I was playing kickball during lunch break with my friends. My boyfriend was on the other team, and he threw the ball straight at me, hit me right in the face.”

“Ow. That must’ve hurt like hell.”

She rubbed her cheek as if reliving the pain. “It was one of those red rubber balls, so yeah, it stung. I tried to grab it and make the throw to first, but it rolled off my hands and into the outfield. He ended up on second by the time I got it back, and the guy on third scored. My team lost and it was all my fault, so of course, that was the end of the world for me.”

JT squeezed her knee.

“I ran and hid in the cafeteria, expecting my boyfriend to follow and comfort me, but he didn’t. No one did. I waited forever—or so it seemed—and when I finally gave up and went back to the gym, he was playing basketball with the guys like nothing had happened.”

“You can’t expect to come between a man and his sports, sweet thing.” But JT’s reassuring touch belied his teasing words.

“I’m sure they saw through my game from the start, but at the time, I thought no one wanted me.”

“I want you.” He nearly bit his own tongue off.

“I know.” Claire smiled and slipped the straw between her lips.

He shifted, trying to ease the growing discomfort in his pants.
Not now….
He never talked about his parents’ divorce. His mom had run off to be with another man, as far as anyone else knew. No one thought it strange that the other guy had no kids, and she never had any with him. But Claire had experience with selfish parents so maybe…. “My mom wished I was never born.”

A soft gasp escaped her as she set the glass down. “She said that to you?”

“Yes. After the custody hearing, I ran down the courthouse steps, begging her to come home. She said no, I wasn’t worth the trouble. I begged her to let us go with her, but she said I’d been a mistake, and that she’d only married my dad because she couldn’t afford an abortion.”

“Oh my God.” She laid her hand on top of his.

His fingers curled around her warm touch, drawing her strength as he struggled with beliefs so deeply embedded in his past that he couldn’t escape them. “I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t have wasted the money on me either.” He shrugged. “She never loved me.”

Somehow stating the obvious comforted him, but it watered the old nagging question she’d planted like a noxious weed.
Would anyone?

“Do you still talk to your mom?”

“I try not to.” But he’d failed at that, too. “When I took over Hodge Construction, I called her—I don’t know why—to brag maybe, make her proud. She asked if they couldn’t get anyone better.” Why couldn’t he stop talking about this? He never told anyone how cruel his mother had been, but Claire’s touch and her understanding eyes seemed to draw it out. “Then she said that my sister, Kaylee, had a great job and a husband right out of college. Did I have a wife yet? I couldn’t do that right either.”

“Some people aren’t happy unless they’re making someone else miserable.”

“Oh, she was overjoyed.” He squeezed her hand. “You’ve been through that too?”

“That’s how my parents treat each other. I used to try to make peace, but I gave it up a long time ago.”

The waitress appeared with a notepad in her hand. “Can I get you some dessert?”

JT released his death grip on Claire’s hand and thanked God for the interruption. “That apple pie smells wonderful.” He’d told her too much, too soon, so he forced a smile and cleared his plate.

“None for me, thanks.” Claire waved her off.

He dove into the pie, then offered her a bite, but she shook her head. She watched him eat, demonstrating exactly what she meant when she called him penetrating. Her gaze burned right through him, waiting for him to tell more of his story, but he focused on catching the melting ice cream with his spoon.

Finally she changed the subject. “Was last night’s fire alarm for real?”

He grunted. “Yes, it was. Burned half my building before they put it out.”

She gasped. “Oh my God. What do you do now?”

Wait on others to determine his future. “Turn in an insurance claim. Talk to the owner and see if they want to rebuild or scrap it.” And hope he didn’t lose the job.

She scooted closer to him and slipped her arm across the back of his chair. “Wow. How did it start?”

He sat back, letting the strength in her limb support him. “It’s being investigated. They still haven’t figure out how the last one burned.”

“This has happened before?”

He nodded. “Second one since Thanksgiving.”

“Do you think it’s arson?”

He stabbed the last bite of pie but couldn’t eat it. “Yes, I do.”

“Who would want to hurt you?”

“I had to let go of a couple of guys after the first fire. That one was accidental, faulty wiring, but two fires so close together? Gotta be deliberate.”

“So you think one of those guys might have set it?”

“I can’t think of anyone else who’d have a grudge against me.”

She shook her head and squeezed his shoulders. “That’s awful.”

The concern in her eyes touched his heart. “Let’s get out of here.” Escaping the confining restaurant became his primary objective. Being alone with her came in a close second.

He paid the waitress/cashier. “Have a good night,” she said.

JT draped his jacket around Claire’s shoulders as they walked outside. He shivered and pulled her close.

“You’re cold. My coat is in my car. I’ll go get it.” She stepped away from him, but he pulled her back.

“No, I’m fine. Holding you will keep me warm.”

She snuggled against him as he guided her down the street. Half-melted snow banks lined the sidewalk, and a mix of salt and sand crunched under their feet. Tourist-trap shops displayed local trinkets in their dimly lit windows. Only the café, a bar, and the motel remained open. No one else braved the cold—probably why Claire relaxed in his arms.

Pure luck had brought them to that courtroom. What were the odds? “Do you always help out at trial?” he asked.

She inhaled deeply. “No, this is my first one.”

Her first, his first. More luck than he could muster. “And you’re screwing with the jury foreman.” He slid his hand down her arm and squeezed.

“You’re the foreman?”

“Yep. Got voted in yesterday.” He hadn’t wanted the job, but no one else seemed to know what they were doing. So he’d spoken up first, gotten them organized, and wound up taking charge.

“Great,” she groaned. “Alex would kill me if he found out.”

They stopped at an intersection with no traffic light, just a stop sign. JT turned and directed her across the street. “Is your boss a real hardass?”

She shook her head and smiled. “No, he’s a great guy. We work well together.”

“Have you ever…?”
Shit, how do I ask this without calling her a slut?
“Has he ever tried to sleep with you?”

Claire’s soft laugh tickled his shoulder. “I’m sure he wanted to, but he’s always kept it professional. Well, mostly. He flirts with me a lot, but he’s toned it down recently.”

“Why?”

“He has a girlfriend… who has a boyfriend.” She shivered and sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Sand slipped under his feet as he stopped in his tracks. “Wait, he knows about her boyfriend?”

She tumbled back against him. “Oh yeah, they all live together.”

“That’s… interesting.” He resumed his pace, pondering various threesome scenarios.

“I never expected it to last, but they’ve been together over a year now. Alex used to come in to work grumpy every morning, but now he whistles all the time.”

JT grinned. “Sounds like he’s having fun.”

Claire nodded. “I know she is. We went out for lunch a few weeks ago, and she told me about some of their… bedroom adventures.”

He looked down at her and caught a sparkle in her eyes. “Kinky?”

“That’s just the beginning.” She glanced down at her shoes and kicked at a frozen chunk of snow. “But I wouldn’t mind trading places with her sometimes.”

“To be with her guys?” He needed to know exactly which place she wanted to be in before he probed her further.

“No, I could never sleep with my boss. I dated Will, the boyfriend, when he first moved here, but it didn’t work out.”

She knew both men intimately, had heard the details of their unorthodox sex from the girl, and apparently found the idea appealing.
That’s a good place to be.
“So you want to try a threesome?”

She stopped in front of the local candy store and gazed in the window, putting her hand on the frosty glass. “Do you know what my favorite chocolate is?”

“No.”

She pointed at decadent pieces arranged artistically on a tiered tray. “Dark chocolate with raspberry filling drizzled with white chocolate:
three
distinct flavors.” Then she turned to face him. “Does that make me a slut?”

Well, fuck me with a cherry on top.
His clever rebel had shown him she enjoyed unusual indulgences. “No, I think it makes you normal.”

Her eyes danced in the silver moonlight as she took his hand and tugged him in the direction of their cars. “Well that’s boring. I don’t want to be normal. I thought my fantasies were wicked.”

Ah… fantasies. Great place.
“Turns out they’re pretty common. At least that one is.”

She walked backward, quite a skill in those dangerous heels, clutching his shirt as he followed her lead. “And you know this because…?”

He slid his hands behind her, resting at the small of her back. “Women tell me things.”

She stopped short. “Oh really?”

His momentum carried them along. “You did.”

“Crap. Why’d I do that?” She rolled her eyes.

“Mmm… because you like me.” He nuzzled his cold nose against hers. Their heated breath mingled in the frosty air.

“Hmm… just a little.”

“More than a little.” He pulled his jacket closed around her and leaned in close. “I made you swear.”

Her body warmed as she laughed. “You did indeed.”

The jury instructions had included detailed definitions of common sense words, but court drilled into them the importance of defining terms. JT needed to know exactly how Claire defined ‘really excited.’ “Does that mean I made you come?”

A sly smile touched her lips, and she rose up on her toes, dragging her breasts against his chest. “Well, I could tell you….”

So much potential in that statement, if she’d just finish it.

“But…?”

“But I’d rather show you.” A violent shiver rattled her as she kissed him. JT tugged his jacket open and pulled her close so they could share their body heat, but her trembling continued.

They’d come to a stop, and he peeked behind them to see if their cars were parked nearby—then spotted a better option. “We’re standing in front of the motel… and the sign says vacancy.”

“Good. I’m freezing.” She pressed against him, sliding her hands down his back to grope his ass.

“Is that all?”

***

Does he really have to ask?
Claire withdrew her shivering hands from his backside and clutched his jacket closed around her. She stepped toward the inviting lobby. “Are you coming?”

“Patience, sweet thing.” He clamped his bare hands together and blew into them. “Let’s get warmed up first.”

Another shudder rattled her, and she questioned the wisdom of her actions. Sure, no one knew them here, but that didn’t clear her conscience. Her guilty acts exposed her guilty mind whether someone saw them or not. But the need to indulge her body’s carnal cravings overpowered her rational arguments.

He held the door open for her, waiting with his hand extended. She took it and they ducked inside.

“Wait here.” JT guided her to a chair while he approached the front desk.

She watched out the window, trying to appear casual. The dark night reflected the activity behind her. He paid cash—untraceable—then grabbed the key and escorted her down the hall.