“You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it, even if I did spend half the night on my
own.”
“Sorry.”
He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I got to watch you dance.”
Her skin was so smooth and flawless. Without thinking, he stuck out his hand and cupped
her cheek. The remains of her lipstick had stained her lips red, and he gently dragged
his thumb over the softness of her lower lip. He leaned forward, moving toward her
mouth, unable to resist the urge to taste her again.
At first it was just the light pressure of his lips on hers. But then he slid his
tongue with slow deliberation across her lips, tasting them. Her mouth was warm and
sweet. Emotion surged up from his belly and nearly choked him.
He pulled back, then shook his head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
do that. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“She stared at him, her expression bewildered, her jaw slack. For a moment he thought
he saw hurt in her eyes, but then her face went blank and her gaze dropped. She grabbed
her tiny purse, opened the door and bolted for the house before he could apologize
again, before he could make an even bigger idiot of himself.
He waited until she’d gone inside before starting the engine and heading home with
a throbbing pain behind his eyes and an unfamiliar ache in his chest.
He’d kissed her
again
, despite his determination not to do something so stupid, not to mess up his friendship
with Jasmine, not to ruin things between them at work.
Quite how he’d gotten himself into this situation, he had no idea. His life had been
tracking along nicely. Work hard, play hard, had been his philosophy, and a good one
it was too. Then, somehow, his life had been derailed. He knew exactly when it had
happened, of course. Michael’s wedding. That was when he’d first seen Jasmine as something
other than a member of his crew. If he could wind back the clock to that day…before
they’d danced…he would.
Well, he couldn’t travel through time, but he
could
put things back on the footing they should have been on all along, and he’d start
by calling…someone.
Melinda. A sexy redhead, Melinda had been angling for a night of his undivided attention
for ages. She would take his mind off Jasmine if anyone could.
No, forget it. He couldn’t face an entire evening with Melinda, or any other woman
in his contacts list for that matter. And what was he thinking, anyway? It wasn’t
a matter of taking his mind off Jasmine for one night. He had to handle this thing
properly, get himself under control,
be a better man
.
He’d been thinking about guiding principles earlier, hadn’t he? Well, here was
one
for him.
Stop seeing Jasmine in any context other than work. Because he couldn’t trust himself
to do the right thing when he was with her. Jasmine deserved better than that. She
deserved better than him.
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine hadn’t expected to sleep well, and she’d been right. When she had finally
slept, she’d had dreams that made her doubt her sanity and left her feeling empty
when she woke and found herself alone. She’d never considered herself lonely before.
She still didn’t. There was a difference between lonely and alone, but there had been
something so satisfying about the dreams of Aaron and herself sharing a bed. Satisfying
in all respects.
Now that she was awake, she couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron, and it was driving
her mad. She wasn’t this woman. She was an independent, self-sufficient,
capable
woman. She didn’t need a man. But when Aaron had said she was incredibly beautiful,
she’d come very close to needing him. Realizing that he really did find her attractive
had made her feel like a desirable woman for the first time in years, and there was
no denying that the feeling could become addictive.
As could the sensation of being kissed by him. Very addictive indeed.
Men had told her mother she was beautiful. It was situation normal for her. Did her
mother experience the same knee-trembling response that she’d felt last night? Was
that why she’d wanted to put herself in the position to experience it time and time
again? Was it a compulsion that she couldn’t control? Was she, in fact, just like
any other type of addict?
Because if that were true, it would go some small way toward explaining why she used
to flirt at every opportunity. Even as a young child, Jasmine had been aware of her
mother’s lack of commitment to her father, and it had distressed her. But if her mother
had been helpless to modify her behavior, which she was beginning to believe might
have been the case, then maybe it was time to stop being so angry with her?
After two day shifts, the night shifts dragged for Jasmine. The crew was called out
twice on the first night for minor incidents, and on the second they had a call-out
that involved dealing with a tanker rollover on the highway and the resultant hazardous
spillage. At the end of the shift rotation, while she was at her locker, Dave and
Aaron walked in, laughing.
She took the opportunity to look at Aaron. Something had changed. They hadn’t spoken
about the night of the party, but she’d noticed a subtle shift in the way he interacted
with her. All business. No mention of the way they’d left things between them after
the party at Tony’s club.
No little digs, no jokes at her expense.
All business was what she wanted, of course. It was just—
“Well, mate,” Dave said, “enjoy your hot date tonight.”
Aaron flicked her a glance, then said a subdued, “Yeah, thanks.”
“Hot date?” Kane said as he joined them. “For Aaron? What’s new? And who’s the lucky
woman tonight?”
“Name’s Melinda. She’s a chef,” Dave said. “She’s going to cook for him at her place,
amongst other things, I guess.”
“Nice.”
Jasmine closed her locker door with more force than necessary. All three of her colleagues
turned to look at her.
Dave was the first to break the silence. “Problem, Mac?”
“No.” Her throat felt as if she’d swallowed something with sharp edges. She picked
up her bag and swung it onto her shoulder, then coughed and tried again. “No problem
here at all. See you all next shift.”
She avoided meeting Aaron’s eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hide the emotion
she was feeling. She couldn’t put a name to that emotion, but one thing was for sure:
It felt very much like jealousy. And if that was the case,
more fool her
.
She hadn’t just lost her marbles, she’d given them away.
“Jasmine, wait!”
Sighing when she heard Aaron’s voice behind her just as she reached her car, she took
a moment to straighten her face before turning. “What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Why the heck shouldn’t I be?”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, but you know Dave
once he gets his teeth into a subject…” He shrugged.
She licked her dry lips. “I’ve heard you talk about women before—why should it bother
me now? It’s not as if anything’s changed. I couldn’t care less what you do in your
downtime, and I’ve got better things to do than stand around here.” She unlocked the
car and tossed her bag into the back.
“Have a great time tonight,” she said as she got into the driver’s seat. She didn’t
mean it, of course, but if she’d said anything else…well, it was better to keep quiet
and let him think she was an idiot, than to tell him what she really meant, and confirm
it.
He grimaced and held on to the driver’s door, preventing her from closing it on him.
“I made it up.”
“I don’t understand. Made what up?”
“The date. The whole Melinda thing. Dave wouldn’t stop; he wouldn’t believe that I
didn’t have plans. He thought I was hiding something juicy when I said I was just
going to stay home.”
She shook her head, puzzled. “So, you told him a story about some random woman.”
“Yes.” He shrugged.
“Have you done that before? Manufactured a date rather than tell the truth and risk
looking like a normal person?”
It was his turn to look puzzled. “I might have…embellished things a little. Sometimes.”
She hid her small smile by turning away to locate the ignition with her key.
“I just wanted you to know before you left,” he said, sounding unsure of himself,
“about Melinda.”
“Thanks, but like I said, it doesn’t matter to me.”
She clicked in her seat belt and signaled that she wanted to close the door. He stepped
aside and when she checked her mirror before turning out of the car park, he was still
standing there.
She wouldn’t let his revelation change her opinion of him, she told herself as she
drove away. It didn’t alter the fact that Aaron was all wrong for her. He was still
a playboy first and foremost. The glimpses she’d had of the man he could be were distracting,
but irrelevant.
…
Aaron placed his phone and car keys on the coffee table in front of him and sat on
his sofa, staring at the two objects as if trying to memorize them for one of those
games where he’d have to name the missing item. Not that it would be tough with only
two objects to choose from. He was staring at them in a bid to overcome the urge to
either ring Jasmine, or to drive across town to her house. He glanced at his watch.
Nearly midnight. Too late to do either.
So, stop thinking about it.
He stretched his arms along the back of the sofa and let his head flop against the
cushion behind him. He was home from his impromptu, solitary trip to the cinema, and
staring at a long night alone. Dave would laugh his head off if he knew the truth.
The movie had been very long and extremely boring. The only interesting bits were
when his concentration had wandered and he’d caught himself thinking about Jasmine.
Like an untrained dog on a leash, his brain had needed jerking back into place, over
and over.
His night out with Jasmine at Tony’s party had been much more enjoyable—heck,
laying tiles
with her nearby had been more fun than the evening he’d just had.
Maybe he should have called Melinda after all.
Melinda was perfect for him. Not only did she have everything he could want in the
looks department, but she was only interested in one night with him to satisfy her
curiosity, after which she would move on to some other lucky guy.
Jasmine, on the other hand, was so far from perfect it was like a bad joke. She also
had everything he could want in the looks department, but more than that, she was
someone he liked and respected. Unlike Melinda, though, she didn’t want him. She was
the one woman he’d known as an adult that he would never be able to charm, but she
did strange things to him.
He let out a breath that hurt like a stitch in his side.
She’d sworn she didn’t care at all about him spending time with another woman tonight
but…he just didn’t know whether that was the truth.
He did know how he’d feel if she announced that
she
was going on a date, and the intensity of that sentiment shocked and scared him.
He was even jealous of any men who might be in her past, but that didn’t stop him
wondering about them. Liz had mentioned someone called Craig, and he wanted to know
what had happened with Craig to make her so wary of men.
Or was she just born that way?
Either way, he wanted to be the one to break through that reserve and… No, he couldn’t
think about being the one. He needed to focus on how impossible it was to enter into
a relationship with Jasmine, even if it was becoming more and more difficult to remember
why. Obviously, logic was no longer going to help him. If he looked at his situation
logically, he’d run away from her, not toward her. Yet, he hadn’t…and after tonight,
he couldn’t see that happening.
He’d resisted asking any woman to take him seriously until now, so what had changed?
All that thinking about values and guiding principles and whatever had messed with
his mind. He had to admit one thing…keeping women at arm’s length, protecting himself
by not getting close, avoiding commitment…none of it had made him happy. He put on
a good act. He laughed and joked, and acted like he didn’t want someone special, but
the truth? The real, down-deep, hidden-from-everyone truth? He was just as lonely
as anybody else.
There had to be a better way to live.
He ran a hand around the back of his neck, then eyed the phone and keys again. It
was too late tonight, but tomorrow was another day. What he needed was an excuse to
see Jasmine again, because if he arrived at her house on an apparent whim, she would
send him packing. Probably.
He slapped his palm to his forehead. Of course. Tomorrow was her birthday.
…
“I wouldn’t have thought of you as a picket-fence kind of girl.”
All of the little hairs on the back of Jasmine’s neck stood to attention as they always
did when she heard Aaron’s voice. She shaded her eyes from the sun as she looked up
into his face from where she was kneeling, sorting pickets into varying lengths. “Har-di-har.
What are you doing here?”
He looked over her shoulder at the tiles he’d laid. “I remembered that the tiles still
need grouting. That’s part of my job.”
She would have grouted them herself, but…well, it had been easier to start a new job
than to continue with one that Aaron had begun and stir up all the memories better
left unstirred. Not that she would have left them forever. The tiles, not the memories.
“I promised I’d do the job, and I keep my promises.”
She got to her feet before saying, “Not all of your promises, you don’t. You promised
no kissing on the night of the party.”
He flinched. “I owe you an apology for what happened in the car.”
“Yes, you do, actually. I wondered when you’d get around to it.”
He hesitated. “You did have a good time, though? Up until the very end of the evening?”
“Yes, I told you I did.” She’d enjoyed the kiss as well, but she chose not to share
that information with him. It would only spoil the effect of the apology. “I’ll probably
go dancing again sometime soon.”
“Who with?”
She narrowed her eyes at the sharpness of his tone. She hadn’t actually thought that
far ahead. Sasha was the most likely candidate, if she ever had a free night, but
Aaron didn’t need to know that, did he?
“It’s really none of your business.”
“No. Sorry.” After a brief pause, he said, “But—” Then closed his mouth as if he’d
thought better of what he was going to say. “Anyway, there’s another reason I came
over today.”
“Go on.”
He took a hand from behind his back and held out a bunch of flowers. Bright, cheerful
daisy types. “Happy birthday, Jasmine.”
Was it wrong that the cement block in her chest had lightened at the thought that
he’d remembered her birthday? Probably, but heck, she couldn’t remember the last time
anyone had bought her flowers.
“Thank you.” She reached for them, her trembling fingers accidentally brushing his
as she took them from him and triggering an avalanche of dizzying sensations.
“You’re welcome. I’d better get started then.” He nodded toward the porch, then pulled
his black sweater over his head.
Jasmine gazed at him for several seconds. She might as well accept his help, since
he was here—and not just because he looked so good it made her heart squeeze. “My
dad and Mitch are coming over to help with the fence. They’ll be here soon. I’m just
getting everything ready before they arrive.”
“Oh? Is that a problem?”
“Why should it be?”
“Because you don’t like people helping. You like to do everything yourself.”
She shrugged. “That’s true. Or rather, that
was
true. But they want to help and I decided…well, why not?”
“I’m glad,” he said, smiling.
“Why?”
“I just think it’s great that you’re letting them help. Shall I do some of this sorting
too, so that it’s all ready to go when they get here?”
“If you like. I’ll take these flowers inside first and put them in water.”
They worked well together, anticipating what the other was going to do and collaborating
without the need for words. Just like they did at work, except that at work they didn’t
normally have to operate in such close proximity. Here, she was acutely aware of how
near he was, even more so when she had to reach past him for a picket.
“So…is it Sam?”
“Is what Sam?” She looked up, frowning.
“Is he the one you’re going dancing with?”
She didn’t answer.
“It’s not Tony, is it?”
“What part of
none of your business
do you not understand?” She ducked her head to hide the smile that twitched on her
lips.
“Right.” She thought he might have given up, but then he said, “It’s just that I know
Tony, and I don’t think he’s right for you. How long has it been since you went out
on a date?”