Page 51 of Take Me Tender

Dying, right there on her face. Just like she was doing inside, her stomach shrinking to the size of a kidney bean. Because it wasn’t Gabe’s heavy footsteps she’d heard, but Jay’s. Jay Buchanan, close enough to touch.

“Cookie.” His grim gaze took her in. “You’re looking well.”

Her hair was too long, lighter, too. She touched it self-consciously and then shoved her hands in the pockets of her long skirt. With all the time she’d been spending in the sun at Cassandra’s house, she knew she was tanner than she’d been before. And thinner, but that was because—

“Aren’t you going to say I’m looking well, too?”

She cleared her throat. “You look like, um…”

“Crap,” he finished for her. “Don’t bother starting a new trend by trying to spare my feelings, Nikki. I do have mirrors.”

He appeared leaner, too, she had to admit. His hair was scruffier, there was a couple of days’ worth of golden stubble on his chin, and the shadows under his eyes said he’d been staying awake nights—writing or…?

The bean that was her stomach hardened as she thought of Jay laughing down at some other woman lying in his bed at that sunny house. But he wasn’t laughing now.

“I would have cleaned up a little for you,” he said. “But when my spy network passed on that you’d been spotted here, I couldn’t take the chance that you’d go chicken on me and fly the coop again.”

“I’m no chicken,” she said, frowning at him. But flying the coop sounded pretty fine right now. She had taken a chance coming to the yarn shop tonight, even though she’d never imagined Jay caring where she was anymore—whether it was Malibu or Manhattan or any point in between. Their fling had been over a month ago. Still, seeing him again made her poor heart feel freshly wounded. “And I didn’t realize you had any spies.”

“Give me a break, cookie. You’re aware how people around here love to talk. And I think it’s interesting that you tried so hard to make sure no one spilled where you’ve been hiding the last four weeks.”

Cassandra had known, of course, and consequently Gabe. And though she’d never really expected Jay to be concerned about her whereabouts for any longer than it took an ego prick to heal, she’d sworn them both to secrecy. “So who told you I was at Malibu & Ewe?”

“Oomfaa saw Cassandra drop you off.” He took a step closer.

Instinct shuffled her back. Her knee gave a tiny twinge at the movement, but she ignored the sensation and forced herself to freeze. Never let them think you’re weak.

Even Jay.

Especially Jay.

“We have some unfinished business, cookie.”

“Our business was finished a month ago. Sorry I left a couple of days early. I returned that part of my paycheck. I’m sure I prorated it accurately.”

“I’m not talking kitchen business.”

She swallowed. “Well, you can’t mean bedroom business,” she said, trying to sound as tough babe as she could. “Or if you do, it’s only because I broke it off before you did.”

“I wasn’t ready for it to end,” he ground out.

So it was that. She’d bumped up against his ego and he wanted her to pay for the little scratch. Okay. She’d let him let her have it and then he’d go back to his swinging lifestyle and she’d go back to finding a way to live without the professional bachelor she’d fallen so hard for.

He returned to the doorway and leaned a shoulder against the jamb. All he needed to do was take off his shirt and it would be like a dozen times in his kitchen—God, she’d missed his company—the way he’d stay near as she made coffee or chopped vegetables for a salad. He’d filled so easily those empty spaces and too-long silences in her life.

“We didn’t get to talk like I wanted to,” Jay said.

Fine. Apparently he had a practiced buh-bye speech that put a period on all his affairs. She gestured with a hand and steeled her spine for the belated rejection. “Go ahead, say whatever you need to.”

“I want to know how you got so strong.”

Cold washed over her, followed by a scalding burn. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We both know what happened when you were fifteen, Nikki. You used to flinch away from my touch, but you held your feet to the floor more times than you didn’t. That couldn’t have been easy.”

There was a whine of anxiety in her ears. She didn’t talk about this with people. And she’d expected a standard breakup speech, not a breaking-into-her-head discussion. “I didn’t want to be a victim forever,” she heard herself say. “I figured out why I’d gone looking for what I did when I was fifteen. I’m sorry for that little girl. But I grew up since then. That’s not me anymore.”

“Some parts of her still have to be you.”

“No,” she said. “I used to have trouble with sex, I’ll admit that. But you know that’s not true anymore.”

“It’s not just the sex, Nikki. It’s the way you won’t allow your emotions out either.”

Her hands made fists in her pockets. Why did he make that sound like a failing?

“Isn’t that what every man wants?” she demanded. “A female in his bed who makes things simple and undemanding? One who takes the relationship just as casually as he does? That’s the whole premise of your latest series in NYFM, if I recall correctly. ‘In Search of the Perfect Woman’—one who looks at the opposite sex just like a man.”

“Funny you should mention that…”

The bells on the front door rang out again, and then Cassandra’s voice sounded. “Hey, Nikki, do you think you could give me a hand for a minute?”

She glanced over at Jay. “Would you mind helping her? I want to finish with these cookies.”

He gave her a hard look, but did as asked. She waited only a heartbeat before scurrying out of the kitchen and heading for the nearby stockroom and its convenient back door. If he wasn’t going to leave her alone, then she would leave herself. Her hand was closing around the doorknob when his dry voice found her.

“Bock bock bock bock bock bock.” His poultry impression was atrocious. “I called the chicken thing, and look, cookie, I was right. You’re flying the coop.”

“I’m not afraid of anything!” Too late, she heard her words and all that they gave away. Exasperated, she swung around to face him. “Look. You weren’t supposed to still care about where I am or what I’m doing. Out of sight, out of mind, right, Hef Junior?”

“Right. It wasn’t supposed to be this way for Hef Junior. But for Jay Buchanan, ah, that’s entirely different, cookie.”

“Different how?”

“Different in that though I got exactly what I was looking for—that sexy, breezy, no-sloppy-emotions-necessary female—she turned out not only to be the perfect woman but also the perfect one with whom I want to spend the rest of my life.”

Uh-huh. Yeah. That anxiety whine was back in her ears but she wouldn’t let him know. Instead, she gritted her teeth and made for the doorway. “Let’s go handsome,” she said, pushing past him and heading for the open area of the shop. “You’ve won me over. I’ll go for another romp in your bed, then you can break up with me, and all will be right with your world.”

“Oh, baby, you’re working so hard you’re killing me again.”

She was in the shop when she faced him. While she was vaguely aware the room was filling up with knitters, she didn’t let that stop her. “Working so hard at what?”

“Never opening up to anyone.”

She hated him. She did. Yanking up her skirt so it revealed her to mid-thigh, she put on display her newly scarred knee, her jointed brace, the way her right quadricep had withered from lack of use. “I opened up myself just fine, see? I opened myself up to a fine orthopedic surgeon who opened up my knee and did the best he could with the damage that occurred when I was fifteen and that I’d inflicted on myself since. I opened myself up to Cassandra, to my sister, who took care of me when I freaked before going into surgery and who took care of me afterward—doing everything from getting me to the bathroom to getting me to the physical therapist. So don’t talk to me about not being able to open up, damn you.”

“Oh, God.” His eyes closed, and he rocked back on his heels, as if she’d wounded him. “Cookie, I would have been there for you. I want to take care of you. I want to take care of you always.”

No man had ever been there for her. No man had ever taken care of her. It was dangerous to start believing one could!

The volume of chatter from the knitters in the room could no longer be ignored. She glanced over, and noticed they were all gathered around the table centered between the couches. Cassandra caught her eye. “Little sister, come take a look at this.”

She glanced back at Jay. There was a new expression on his face, something maybe like fear, and it was so surprising that she stepped toward him, concerned. “Jay? Jay, are you okay?”

He smiled a little, but with none of the seduction or charm that she remembered. “That’s it. You’ve just proven to me that I’ve finally grown up and gained some smarts. No matter what, no matter what happens, you’re the best, cookie.”

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