Pieces (Riverdale #1) (6 page)

     
Nick simply nodded, drinking his beer. He
put his mug on a table beside the pool table. He sauntered around the table,
figuring his next shot. He crouched down and eyed the ball, but glanced up at
Jake. “So, she usually doesn’t flirt with guys, is what you’re saying?” The
pool stick connected with the ball and it rolled into the pocket.

     
Jake flinched for two reasons, first one
being Nick hadn’t missed a shot yet, and second his words made him feel
ridiculous. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he sounded like a jealous
fool. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” But it was. “She doesn’t usually drink
and she doesn’t like to tangle with the guys in the bar.”
 
When one of the guys took her hand, Jake
clutched his beer tighter.

 
    
Nick
walked up behind him. He could’ve cracked a bottle over his head and he
wouldn’t have even flinched. “Why watch from the sidelines?”

     
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake
asked, acknowledging he was behind him.

     
Nick shrugged, choosing his words. “You
joke about me and Sam, dancing around each other, when it’s exactly what you’re
doing with Cara.”

     
“No, it’s not. Me and Cara…, we’re
different. She does her thing and I do mine. I’d cut off my left nut for her,
but we’d never work.” He forced himself to turn around and look at Nick.

     
“Why’s that?” It was a simple question, a
valid one at that, but he didn’t have an answer. For as long as he could
remember, when anyone questions why he and Cara had never made a go for it,
they had one answer. It would never work. The four words had seemed like the
perfect answer, and it shut people up for a while, but Jake had no idea why
they actually wouldn’t.

     
“What the fuck are you Dr. Phil or
something?” He looked at Nick. “I’d be a pile of shit if Cara wasn’t in my
life. She’s my voice of reason, take that away from me, and all hell breaks
loose.” That was the best he could come up with, and it wasn’t a lie. If things
went sour with them and she wasn’t in his life, he’d be a fucking mess.

     
“Ever wonder what happens when she meets
someone, gets married, and has a family?” Nick asked curiously. What the fuck
was with this guy and his questions? Jake wanted to punch him, for the mere
fact he was asking all the questions that Jake often wondered when he was by
himself.
 
The questions he dreaded
knowing the answers too.

     
“I’ll be Uncle Jake.” Unless, of course,
in five years they found themselves in a little chapel, going through with
their contingency plan, but he wasn’t about to fill Nick in on that, he’d think
he was really a goner then.

     
“She won’t be there all the time to be
your voice of reason, if she has a family to put first.”
 

     
Jake shook his head. “You’re killing my
buzz, Nick.” He raked his gaze over Cara, who was looking back at him. Their
eyes met for a moment, before she glanced back at the dart board. “Fuck this.”
He threw his pool stick down onto the felt table and looked back at Nick. “I’m
getting out of here.” Figuring he’d get the hell out of there before things
turned ugly for him and Cara. He just needed some space to cool his heels.
Whatever game Cara was playing she’d have to play alone. “Tell the girls I said
goodbye.” And with not so much as a glance their way he left Nick alone,
holding his pool stick.

     
Cara watched out of the corner of her eye
as Jake rushed out of the bar, she felt her shoulders slump and the frown
threaten her face. She didn’t know what bothered her more, the fact that he
left without saying goodbye, or that he hadn’t been affected by her not so
subtle attempt to find a bed buddy. She didn’t know why she was surprised he
never really reacted when she was with another guy. Even when she had a date,
he never asked how it went. He only knew of a few of the men she had dated, and
never said anything until the relationships were over, assuring her they
weren’t good enough for her. She blew out a breath when one of the guys wrapped
their arms around her waist. She had no desire to play nice anymore, and
unraveled herself from him before walking back towards the bar.

     
Jake had canceled his clients for the day.
He couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, he was just physically and
mentally shot. He wasn’t sure that staying in bed all day would be the remedy
for his troubles. Sure he was able to sleep here and there when his mind
permitted. The last few days said mind, had taken on a life of its own and it
revolved around a certain raven haired beauty that was on a mission these days
to find herself a mate.

     
He told himself he had no right to be mad,
but he didn’t mind being a hypocrite, a selfish one at that. He drummed his
head, trying to understand why he felt it was okay for him to date and fuck
around, but the minute Cara did, or attempted to, he felt shunted, he’d even
use the word betrayed. She was his, maybe he hadn’t claimed her yet, but hey,
Rome wasn’t built in a day. Or a decade, right?

     
One thing was certain, he needed to get a
grip on this thing sooner rather than later, or he was going to combust,
physically. The warning signs were there, the constant fatigue, the loss of
appetite, just last night he woke, drenched. He had sweated through his sheets.
There were times when his chest constricted so tightly he was tempted to drive
himself to the nearest emergency room. Then he thought what he would tell the
doctor. Hey doc I’m in love with my best friend, but I’m too much of a pussy to
tell her so I’ll just make myself sick instead. Yeah, he opted not to go the
emergency room.

     
He pushed himself out of bed, figuring he
should probably try to eat something. It was slim pickings when he looked into
his refrigerator and decided a bowl of corn flakes was probably the safest bet.
He just hoped the sell by date on the milk wasn’t last week. He grabbed a bowl
when he heard a knock on the door.

     
It was probably one of his family members,
bugging him. He had stopped answering the phone to them yesterday because he
could not take it anymore. First, it was his mother insisting she bring him
some food. Then, it was his father yelling that his mother was worried sick,
let her bring the damn food. Sam followed suit, reminding him he had another
two days before Ava’s birthday party to snap out of it. Luke’s call had been
the last one of the parade of phone calls, begging him not to ignore their
parent’s calls, because every time he didn’t answer, they called him to see if
he had heard from him.

     
He pulled open the door and was pleasantly
surprised that it was Cara. She was carrying two brown paper shopping bags of
groceries and smiled up at him. He went to take one of the bags from her, but
she pushed past him into his apartment. “Hope you’re hungry.”

     
He shut the door and leaned against it,
watching as she began to pull things out of the bags. “I was just about to
eat.”

     
She eyed the expired milk on the counter
and looked back at him. “Then I came just in time.”

     
He knew she hadn’t meant it as a sexual
innuendo, but his dick still did a happy dance, having a mind of its own. He
pushed off the door and strode towards the breakfast bar. “What’d you bring?”

     
“I’m going to make chicken cutlets, and if
you eat all your dinner like a good boy, we’ll bake a cake for dessert.” She
winked at him and began to make herself at home in his kitchen.

     
He made himself comfortable on one of the
stools. “Which one of them called you?”

     
She laughed and stood on her tip toes to
grab two bowls. Her shirt riding up as she stretched her arms to reach, baring
her back. He couldn’t help himself and his eyes traveled down the length of her
slender back to her ass.
 
Her pants
looked molded against her, and he sighed appreciating the view. “Actually, they
all did. But when you didn’t answer my text I figured I’d stop by.”

     
He looked around; he didn’t even know
where he had put his phone. He reached for his pockets, and realized he was
barely dressed. He had no shirt on and a pair of sweats on, no pockets, and
definitely no phone. “I may have thrown my phone out the window.”

     
She laughed and bent down to grab a frying
pan in one of the lower cabinets. He leaned over the counter, not able to
resist that ass. He leaned back when she began to rise and glanced at the
clock. “Don’t you have work?”

     
“I’m off this weekend, remember? We were
supposed to go out tomorrow night after Ava’s birthday.” She said as she heated
the oil in the frying pan. Then she looked over at him. “Think you’ll be up to
it?”

     
He nodded shortly, “I’m feeling better.”
And he was since she arrived and decided she was just what the doctor called
for. “Can I help you?”

     
She looked at him from under her fringe of
lashes and gave him a soft smile. “Sure. You can crack the eggs.” She slid the
dozen of eggs towards him along with a fork and bowl. She began to pour bread
crumbs into another bowl.

     
He busied himself with the task she
appointed him stealing a glance at her after each egg was cracked. “So-“He
began and began to beat the eggs. “How’s your fishing expedition coming along?”

     
She didn’t stop preparing the food to look
at him she merely shrugged and began to pound the chicken. “It’s a work in
progress.”

     
Hmm, she didn’t play dumb to his question
or pretend she wasn’t sure what he was referring to, he didn’t know what to
make of that. “So the dart guys from the other night?”

     
“What about them?” She took the bowl from
him and began to dip the chicken in the egg mixture.
   

     
“They didn’t fit the bill?” He asked
casually and wiped his hands on a dishtowel. She still hadn’t made eye contact
with him.

     
“They were fun.” She paused to ponder a
moment. “I guess that’s good since I’m looking for fun.” She shrugged and
continued to bread the chicken, placing some into the pan of hot oil. And
finally she glanced over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were blank, but she
smiled. “Enough about me, how are things going with Joanna?”

     
He debated on whether or not he should
tell her that he had ended things with her. Instead of committing himself to a
decision, he changed the topic back to her; he was clearly not done with his
questions. “If you’re only looking for fun, I’d be happy to oblige.”

     
Her smile faltered and she turned back to
watch the chicken cook. “Right, well since that would be a disaster of epic
proportions. I’m going to stick with strangers they are the safest kind of
fun.”

     
“Strangers and safe don’t usually go hand
in hand.” He said evenly.

     
And then she surprised him, she moved
towards the breakfast bar and gripped the edge of the counter and stared right
at him. He raised an eyebrow at her boldness and leaned in waiting for her to
gather her courage. “Maybe not, but you my friend are not the answer.” She
leaned closer and looked him square in the eyes. He’d be lying if he said he
wasn’t a bit turned on. He liked watching the fire in her eyes. It was a rare
occurrence and he was absolutely mesmerized by it. “Read my lips.” She
whispered and then she killed him, by running her tongue over her lower lip.
Her now moist lips, glistening as she enunciated each word slowly and
thoroughly. “Not. Going. To. Happen.”

     
“What a shame, I am tons of fun.” He smiled
his eyes still on her wet lips.

     
“Don’t I know it.” She murmured. “Make no
mistake about it; I love your kind of fun. I love having fun with you. But we
both know I’m looking for a different kind of fun.”

     
“That kind of fun is my specialty.” He
didn’t skip a beat, and he thanked God, because he was struggling with the
marathon his heart was running, and the party that was going on in his very
thin pants.

     
She closed her eyes for a moment, and then
turned abruptly back to the stove, and turned the chicken. “You my friend are
chicken cutlets. Fried, messy and oil will shoot at you if you get too close.”
And when the oil shot out of the pan, she ducked. “See!” She said as she
lowered the flame.

     
Jake looked at her, shifting in his chair
to accommodate his hard on. He was trying to wrap himself around the idea that
she had just compared him to their dinner, and what that meant. “I’m a chicken
cutlet?”

     
“Yes!” She said as she stared at the
frying pan. “I can’t afford to get burned. I’m more in the market for stew. You
know? It takes forever to cook, it’s good for you. It comforts you.”

     
“I comfort you.” He didn’t want to mention
that they’ve been taking forever to admit there is more than a friendship
between them. He rubbed his temples. Maybe he was stew, after all.

     
“Yes, but you’re not stew. You’re so far
from stew.” She began to fix a salad, and grabbed another bowl from one of his
cabinets. She looked over at him. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

     
“Not at all.” He admitted, and threw his
head into his hands. He peered at her from the cracks between his fingers and
saw she was biting her lip, holding back a giggle.

     
“Come on Jake. Let’s just drop this before
I compare your to apples and oranges.”
 
She reached out and grabbed one of his hands. “It’s okay to be chicken
cutlets. I bet you Joanna loves chicken cutlets.” She raised her eyebrows,
obviously trying to either, turn this conversation on him or lighten the mood.

     
“Joanna and I are done.” He removed his
hands from his face and stared at her. She cocked her head to the side as
confusion crossed her features.

     
“I’m sorry. What happened?” She said
softly.

     
He wanted to tell her, you happened, but
he stopped himself. He reworded his answer in his head and then spoke. “I’m
beginning to think I want more out of a woman.” He shrugged his shoulders. “The
fast rides and flings are getting old, not to mention I’m not getting any
younger.”

     
She looked surprised, but masked it very
quickly. “No more ride or die chicks?” She laughed. “You’d be bored in a week.”

     
He shook his head. “Wrong. Just one ride
or die chick, and I’d never be bored of her.” Her mouth dropped open slightly,
and remained like that as she just stared at him. “Close your mouth or you’ll
catch something.” He said before looking over her shoulder at the stove. “Cara?
Your chicken cutlets are burning.”

     
She closed her mouth with a smacking sound
and then muttered a few curses as she grabbed the frying pan that was shooting
oil. He leaned back against his stool and grinned as he watched her rescue
their dinner and play with the hot oil.

     
The following afternoon, Ava’s birthday
party at Bounce-A-Rama, was in full swing by the time Cara got there. She was
on her way when Luke had called her and asked her if she could pick up the
cake, since she lived two blocks from the bakery. Of course she helped him out,
but in the interim, she ran into Dart Guy from last week. Apparently when he
wasn’t playing darts at Rudy’s he was baking cupcakes, because he was the head
baker at Riverdale Sweets. Yep, he was definitely a slow-cooking stew. And she
couldn’t stop craving chicken cutlets.

     
She sighed and pushed her analogies out of
her mind as she took a look out onto the party that came to life around her.
There were about six huge inflatable bounce mazes. She spotted Ava on top of
the middle one that was a huge inflatable slide. The little girl threw her arms
over her head and smiled, showing off the gap in her top front tooth, that had
fallen out this morning. She slid down and let out a happy scream. Cara smiled
when she saw Luke at the bottom of the slide with his camera, taking pictures
of his happy little girl. He was a great dad, she marveled. Sam grabbed Luke’s
camera from him and he grabbed Ava and hoisted her onto his shoulders. Father
and daughter smiled as Sam snapped a bunch of pictures of them.

     
Cara turned around when she felt a hand on
her shoulder. Deb smiled at her and took the cake box out of her hands and
handed it off to her husband. “Cara, sweetie. Thank you for picking up the
cake. Luke completely forgot this morning. Joe, would you give that to the
party host, tell her it has to be refrigerated.” Cara looked over at Joe, he
was donning his usual dress pants and knit shirt, only he had a Cinderella
party hat on top of his head. She felt the smile tug at the corners of her
mouth and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

     
“Looking good, Joe.” And then she hugged
Deb. “It was no trouble at all.”

     
Joe threw his scarf over his shoulder and
winked at Cara. It would be seventy degrees out and the man still wore a scarf.
She watched Deb blow out an exasperated breath and unravel the scarf from his
neck.

     
“Really, do you need to wear this damn
scarf?” Deb said as she crumbled it into a ball.

     
“Hey! Give it back woman or I swear you’ll
wear this cake!” He said to his wife, but they both knew he wouldn’t dare. He
let out a huff and stomped away with the cake. Deb turned back towards Cara.

     
“I swear that man is going to be the death
of me. You kids didn’t give me as many gray hairs as he has.”