Trouble Me: A Rosewood Novel (37 page)

Yeah, it was definitely time to wrap up this total flop of an evening.

“So, Topher,” she said brightly. “Have I told you about the last time I took Carmen out for a cross-country jaunt? There’s nothing she likes better than to tear across fields and soar over embankments. Carmen’s got some outrageous speed in her.…”

Scott and Rob found seats at the bar not far from the beer-tap handles, a prime spot where they were able to order a Flying Dog porter for Scott and a Dogfish Head brown ale for Rob. Their pints filled, Scott clinked his glass against Rob’s.

“Here’s to pulling off some seriously good shit today, Rob.” His voice held a note of rare solemnity.

“Glad you had my back. Uncle Joe was right. Warburg’s no place for coke and Glocks.”

“We’ll have to make sure that dealer and all his scum associates get the message.”

“Let’s drink to them getting it loud and clear,” Rob agreed, clinking their glasses together a second time.

“Must be a good band tonight,” Scott mused, glancing about. “It looks like half of Warburg’s here. Hey, that’s Randy over there with her cousin Liz. Mind if I go say hi?”

“Be my guest.” As Scott made his way over to Randy, his latest in a never-ending slew of lady friends, Rob turned in the direction he’d taken, intending to wave hi to Randy from his place at the bar.

He never got that far, never got past the couple seated at a table by the wall.

Jade had her back to him, but Rob knew it was her. He recognized the thick, gold-streaked tumble of hair, the slim hand that raised the beer glass to her lips—hell, he even recognized the small, bony point of her wrist. He’d kissed and stroked every one of those parts of her—and hundreds of others. They were burned into his memory.

She was with a guy who looked familiar, so he was most likely a local. Rob put him at around thirty. He sported a preppy look, complete with an expensive haircut and a big, fat stainless-steel watch. His black sweater
was probably cashmere. Rob didn’t give a shit about his moneyed looks. He didn’t even mind the fact that he was hanging on Jade’s every word. She could make a grocery-shopping list sound fascinating.

No, what bugged him was the expression on the guy’s face as he leaned close to her—he looked like he wanted to eat her up.

Rob wasn’t accustomed to jealousy. He and Becky had been high school sweethearts. And even though Becky had been extremely popular, with her doe-brown eyes and wavy brown hair, everyone had accepted without question that she was his.

What was going on here? Rob wondered, his eyes boring holes in Jade’s back. He thought he’d made it clear how serious he was about her. Was she just using him?

Jade picked up her beer glass and took a sip. Setting it down, she angled her head to say something to her date. Something that had him placing a hand on her forearm and moving in to kiss her on the lips.

The damned kiss seemed to last for an eternity. Seconds into it, Rob’s gut was already twisted into a tight knot of pain. The pain didn’t lessen when she pulled back and rose to her feet, because he saw that her beer glass was still sitting on the table and was more than half full. The Jade Radcliffe he knew would have pitched it in the guy’s face without hesitation if she hadn’t wanted his kiss.

When she’d stood and shouldered her handbag, the guy with her got up too and tossed some bills onto the table. Clearly he intended to accompany her out of the Brass Horn. To do what? Continue where he’d left off?

“So who are you planning to arrest now?” Scott joked. Fixated on Jade and her date, Rob hadn’t even noticed his brother’s return.

That’s exactly what he would like to do: drag that guy
off in handcuffs to the station, toss him behind bars, and throw away the key. Perhaps a little dramatic, but at least it would ensure his hands and mouth stayed the hell off Jade.

As for Jade, he wanted to kiss her until she trembled with passion, kiss her until she whispered his name in breathless wonder, kiss her until she knew he was the only one for her.

Instead, he got an elbow in his ribs from his brother. “Seriously, Rob. Who’s got you so hot under the collar?”

Rob jerked his attention away and turned back to the bar. “No one,” he answered, lifting his pint glass. “I was just wondering if you were going to stick me with the tab.” He drank deeply, wishing he could erase from his mind the image of Jade kissing another man.

“Oh, good. Because for a second there I thought you were planning to go and throttle Topher McCallister for having his hand on Jade Radcliffe’s lower back. Not sure Uncle Joe would be too happy about that. And would I ever stick you with the tab?”

Topher McCallister? Rob refused to glance over his shoulder to take another look. If memory served, Topher had been a year or two ahead of him in school. “Is that who that was?” He thought he sounded convincingly indifferent.

“Yup, and from the looks of it, Topher’s still a hit with the ladies. At least he has taste. That
was
Jade Radcliffe with him, right? Eric’s right. He told me she has to be the prettiest second-grade teacher Warburg’s ever seen. Interesting. That thundercloud expression has settled over your face again.”

“Fuck off, Scott.”

Scott gave a bark of laughter. “Well, that answers all the questions I had for you tonight.” Patting Rob on the shoulder, he said, “Want me to go distract Topher? I’m sure there’s something we can talk about.”

“No, thanks.”

“Just as well,” he said with a shrug as he turned back to the bar and picked up his beer. “They’ve left.”

Damn. Now he’d be left to suffer the torment of wondering exactly where they’d gone.

J
ADE’S
S
ATURDAY
seemed like a vacation, the day filled only with riding, so easy-paced that she found her thoughts circling back to the evening ahead, wondering when Rob would drop by.

She couldn’t call him, of course. To do so would smack of neediness. While she might be all aflutter at the prospect of seeing him, she didn’t want him to know how deeply nutty she was about him.

Her sisters figured it out soon enough, though at first Jordan and Margot thought the drink she’d shared with Topher the night before was the reason for her preoccupation. Naturally, Margot had felt compelled to tell Jordan about Jade’s date with Topher, and the two of them had gone into mother-hen mode the second they discovered Blair had been there too.

That was Jade’s fault. She’d let slip that Blair had been at the pub and was as witchy as ever. Her only excuse for such a basic mistake was that she’d been distracted, simultaneously fielding their questions about Topher while listening to Georgiana recite the parts of the horse. Her little niece was using Maggie as a model because Kate was grooming her out on the cross ties. Georgiana was doing amazingly well for a four-year-old, so far needing help only when she got below the cannon bone on the bay pony’s slender leg.

Luckily, both Olivia and Kate were there to help their cousin with patient prompts of “fetlock,” “pastern,”
“coronet,” and “hoof,” because Jade had an additional distraction to deal with.

It had occurred to her that maybe she should cook something for Rob. Had he said he’d be over in time for dinner? God, what could she possibly make? Between Ellie and Jordan’s cooking and the frozen wonders she constantly pilfered from Margot and Jordan’s freezers, she hadn’t put in a lot of practice. Or any practice.

So when Jordan stuck in a sneak question, asking whether Topher was TM while Jade was busy watching Kate position herself so she could brush the bay mare’s long black tail, she first looked at her sister blankly and then shook her head.

“No—at least I don’t think so. I didn’t really get a chance to steer the conversation in that direction. I arrived at the Horn late. Blair was already there, and after she left I didn’t want to stick around. In addition to being a miserable example of humanity, Blair wears way too much perfume. Reminds me of a poison cloud. I swear the pub reeked—”

“Blair’s back in Warburg?” Jordan asked just as Margot voiced her own question. “Whatever was she doing with Topher?”

“Yeah, she seems to be back, and as far as I can tell, her primary interest is to audition for the role of Topher’s one and only,” Jade said, answering them both. “She was none too happy to see me. But that’s hardly news.”

“So she’s still in high school mode. What a shame,” Jordan said.

“And so predictable. Those Harrisons are so freakin’ immature. It drives me nuts.”

Jade cleared her throat loudly, nodding at Georgiana, Olivia, and Kate. “Careful there, sis.”

Margot looked abashed. “Sorry,” she mouthed. Then, louder, “Does she intend to stay in Warburg?”

Jade nodded. “Yup. She wants Topher to find her a job in his insurance company or something like that.” Then, seeing that Georgiana was struggling to remember a vocabulary word, she said, “That part of the hind leg has a different name from the forearm. It starts with a
ga
. Can you remember it?”

“Gaskin,” Georgiana cried, giving a little hop for emphasis.

“That’s right.”

“And then comes the hock,” Georgiana continued.

“You’re on a roll, kiddo,” Jade said, with a smile that faded when she returned to the previous topic. “Of course, even though Blair is unemployed, she doesn’t think much of my job. It was kind of funny—she not only derided my being a lowly substitute teacher, she also implied that I wasn’t good enough to do that.”

“What bull—” Margot began, quickly tacking on “—oney. You’re a terrific teacher. What could she possibly know about your qualifications?”

Jade shrugged. “My guess is that she’s gotten an earful from Christy. And apparently Blair had friends in my college dorm. She probably asked them for whatever gossip they knew.” She decided not to mention that Blair had brought up her advice column, not with Kate, Olivia, and Georgiana present. Even though they were now busily occupied grooming Dickens, those little pitchers had mighty big ears.

And if she told them about the sexpert business, her sisters would inevitably want to hear how Topher had reacted to the news, and then she’d have to tell them that he tried to come home with her last night.

Having him kiss her had been bad enough. She’d let him only because he’d informed her he was going to buy Carmen and wanted to seal the deal with something “friendlier” than a handshake. In the parking lot he’d
tried to get a whole lot friendlier, but she’d nipped that particular male fantasy in the bud.

The only guy whose sexual fantasies she wanted to indulge was Rob. Should she cook something for him tonight? she wondered again. Then she realized she had the equivalent of a culinary expert on hand. “Hey, Jordan, is there something foolproof I can cook that a man would appreciate?”

Margot and Jordan were helping currycomb Dickens, because he’d rolled in the pasture and looked more like a pinto than an all-white pony. Jade saw them exchange a look.

“You’re planning to cook?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah, I thought as it’s the weekend I’d christen the stove. No big deal.”

“Of course not.”

Jade thought she heard Margot snort with laughter, but when she glanced over at her, her sister had ducked behind Dickens’s neck.

“What? Is there anything wrong with deciding to cook a homemade meal?” she demanded. “I wouldn’t want to hurt Owen’s feelings and never use the kitchen he built.”

“You can make a cold pasta sauce. It’s super-easy. All you need is basil, chopped tomatoes, olive oil, and lots of garlic. You have a food processor in the cabinet above your fridge. The recipe takes about five minutes and it’s absolutely delish. All you actually have to cook is the spaghetti.”

“I can do that.” Even she could dump spaghetti in boiling water and stir.

“Certainly you can. And I’m sure Rob will love it,” Jordan said with a smile.

Jade shot Margot a disgusted look. “Do you ever keep anything to yourself?”

“Nope. We’re your sisters. That means we get to share everything, not just clothes—and this is a pretty major moment, cooking for your guy. I almost had a meltdown when I cooked Travis his first meal. I made scrambled eggs. I was so worried I was going to screw up.” She gave a wide smile. “He loved them.”