Not Quite Crazy Page 21

“That’s funny.”

“Big sunglasses when it’s raining aren’t exactly inconspicuous either.”

“At least your boss didn’t think you took up bar fighting and question your character.”

He had the sexiest smile when he tried to tease her.

“He was too busy putting up my lights to notice my stocked liquor cabinet.”

Jason stared at her lips, and without trying, made her moisten them with her tongue. Her heart jumped just looking at him watching her.

Her boss.

She shook her head. “Well, I should probably get back to my doorway.”

“Want some help?”

“No,” she said too quickly. “No, I have it. Then I need to run to the grocery store and figure out dinner.”

He pushed off the couch. “That’s my cue to leave.”

She walked him to the door. “I can’t thank you enough.”

He tilted his head. “You could go out to dinner with me.”

“I could . . .”

Jason did a double take.

“But then we’d end up with a drink or two. I’d let my guard down and find you holding my hand, maybe you’d even let your arm linger on my waistline after opening the door for me.” The image caught in her head, and her stomach warmed.

“The food would be spectacular, especially since I didn’t have to cook it,” she continued. She closed her eyes and imagined buttery scallops and vegetables that melted in your mouth. Fresh bread. “Candlelight . . .”

“I can make all that happen,” Jason quietly said.

“We’d probably do more than hold hands.”

The touch of Jason’s fingertips on her arm made her open her eyes. The warmth in his face hadn’t been there a moment before.

Rachel swallowed and let reality in. “Then we’d start seeing each other more at work. People would start to talk. Next thing you know, I’m getting called out for you playing favorites. I mean, if I missed my deadlines because of you, you’d probably understand.”

“I’m an understanding guy.”

“Next thing you know, we’re fighting over work, or schedules . . . or toothpaste.”

Jason smirked.

“Or maybe you find someone that suits you better, or an old flame returns.”

“I doubt—”

“Feelings change. Most romantic relationships float in and out of our lives. No harm, no foul. But feelings always get hurt in the end, and then I’ll be in need of a new job. And I like my job.”

“I wouldn’t—”

She lifted two fingers in the air and cut him off. “Unemployment is exactly what the Colemans would use to gain custody of Owen. If I’m unable to provide for him, the courts wouldn’t favor me.”

Jason dropped his arm.

“I’m sorry, Jason. You’re thoughtful, charming . . . superhot, even when licking marshmallows off your lips.” Why had she said that?

“But . . . ,” he said.

“Owen comes first. I promised Emily.”

They stood there staring at each other for a full minute. “I understand,” he finally said.

Disappointment sat in her chest. The first decent guy to ask her out in forever just had to come with serious strings.

“No dating.”

“No dating,” she agreed.

“No hand-holding.”

She glanced at his long fingers and sighed. “No.”

“Coming over for hot chocolate and decorating for Christmas is okay?”

“Of course. I’m happy to advise you on the company Christmas party and drive you away from ditched cars in return.”

He turned and placed his hand on the door. “Got it. Friends and favors.” He opened the door and looked back.

“Thank you.”

He smiled. “Let me know how dinner with Frown Face works out.”

“I will.”

With a single nod, he bundled into his coat and walked to his truck.

She watched as he pulled out of her driveway and down the street.

“Damn.”

Chapter Ten

Deyadria Coleman was a tall, willowy woman who apparently didn’t stand in line when they were handing out curves. Deyadria’s slight height advantage over Rachel had her picking an outfit with a pair of boots with a couple of extra inches. That way she was eye to eye with the weather-killing woman when she walked through the door.

“Welcome,” Rachel greeted the couple. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”

Tereck helped his wife with her coat. “No problem at all,” he said. The kinder of the two, Tereck had more salt than pepper in his hair, probably a result of being married to his wife for a few decades. The man was not a slave to a gym and carried a few extra pounds around his stomach.

“Where is my grandson?” Deyadria asked before Rachel could take her coat.

“Owen?” Rachel called up the stairs, knowing damn well he was waiting until the last possible second to join them.

Somewhat satisfied that Owen was in the house, Deyadria moved deeper into the room. “Very quaint.” Compliment or insult, Rachel wasn’t sure how to take her comment.

“We like it.”

Deyadria lifted her nose and turned.

Insult, Rachel decided.

“It’s very nice,” Tereck said.

“Isn’t it a bit small?”

“Owen and I fit perfectly,” Rachel told the woman.

Deyadria dismissed the Christmas tree with a sniff and glanced at the stairway.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Arsenic, eye of newt?

“Perrier with lime,” Deyadria requested, as if she were in a restaurant.

Rachel tried hard not to cringe. “Fresh out of sparkling water, I’m afraid. I have wine, coffee, tea, soda . . . bottled water with lemon?”

“Herbal?”

“Mint or chamomile?”

Deyadria huffed. “Chamomile, I suppose.”

“Just coffee for me,” Tereck said, glaring at his wife.

“I’ll see what’s taking Owen so long.” With that, Rachel double-timed it upstairs and found Owen in his room with his earbuds in. “Dude!”

He pulled the cord and looked up from his phone. “What?”

“The weather killers are downstairs. Help me,” she said in a curt whisper.

“That bad already?” Owen swung his legs off his bed.

“She asked for Perrier.”

“What’s that?”

“Never mind. Just help. I have to make tea.”

She left his room, Owen on her heels.

“I hate this,” he said.

“Shhh, they’ll hear you.” With a painted on smile, she forced her shoulders back and made nice.

What is Perrier?

Jason stared at the text for a full minute before figuring out who was asking the question.

Owen?

It took two minutes for a response.

Yeah.

Carbonated water.

Owen responded with two letters, TX.

Jason waited to see if Owen would elaborate on why he asked the question. Apparently the kid wasn’t long-winded.

Why do you ask?

Frown Face asked for it, and now Rachel is mumbling Perrier under her breath in the kitchen.

Her lips were going to crack before they sat down to eat.

Rachel placed Deyadria’s herbal tea on the coffee table and handed Tereck his coffee.

Owen sat in a chair, his cell phone in his hand. No one was talking when she entered the room.

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