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“So, it’ll be full-on tomorrow?”

  “The show will be bumped-in in late January.”

  “Seen Lonny lately?”

  “This morning. That’s when she cancelled today.”

  “So, Vix met her?”

  “No.” Jay narrowed his eyes. He had no intention of implying she’d spent the night with him.

  Steve cleared his throat. “I’ve seen Lonny a few times recently. She’s—I don’t know—nervy. And she’s drinking.” He fingered his narrow goatee beard.

  Jay shrugged. “When isn’t she nervy?”

  “I’m trying to be serious. It’s not like Lonny to play hot and cold, but sometimes she looks through me like she can’t see me.”

  Jay raised his eyebrows. “You know what she’s like. She takes little offenses and magnifies them.”

  “Yes, I—”

  The paint room door squeaked, and Vix emerged, her upswept hair falling around her face in soft curls. She aimed her gaze at Jay. “Cleaning up that place is going to take hours, but I can see I have the primary colors and don’t need to buy anything but a few good brushes. Are you in charge of the key to this place?” She had a streak of blue paint on her yellow shirt.

  “I’ll get one cut for you tomorrow.”

  “Will you be here?”

  He nodded. “We’ll be starting at eight.”

  Trent threw the ball at Steve, who took it to the net. Vix lingered. “I don’t have any painting to do yet, but I would really like to clean up the room. Would it be okay while you’re working tomorrow?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Sticky-beak Sherry insinuated herself between them. “Do you play volleyball, Vix?”

  “No, I haven’t ever played.”

  “You would be a natural.” Jay glanced at her lithe body. “It’s a game of tactics, and women seem to excel at that.”

  Vix dipped her head. “Tactics is a game I’ve yet to learn.”

  “One of them is to wear as little as possible,” Sherry said, watching Steve and Trent remove their shirts. Since they knew she was watching, they smacked each other around. “Then the guys tip the ball low so that you have to bend over.”

  “Do you mean you do it on purpose?” Luke called from the other side of the room. He was shirtless and ready to play.

  Sherry put her fists on her hips. “You’re married. You shouldn’t be noticing.”

  Vix looked at her own jeans and then at the brief outfits worn by Sherry and Kellen’s two dates, all of which were tiny. While the guys had been setting up the net, the other three women had shucked off as many clothes as they could, leaving them in tight spandex undies and appetizer-type nipple coverings. “I won’t be any use. I’m overdressed.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “So, will you play?” Sherry asked, doggedly.

  Jay didn’t know why his sister-in-law was being pushy. She never bothered with Ilona, but most women didn’t, which was a shame. That left Ilona with guys mainly, and a bit of female companionship would have done her a world of good.

  “I’ll watch for a while.”

  Jay found a gold throne in the props’ room for Vix, and she sat backed against a fireplace flat while Trent formed groups inside the marks of Steve’s hopeful boundaries, two guys and one girl a side, which left one of Kellen’s girls wandering around and Jay sitting on the arm of the throne beside Vix. “In case you haven’t guessed, we don’t take this game too seriously.”

  “It looks seriously strenuous.” She watched the leaps and catches with a half smile.

  “They’ll calm down as soon as they get into the game.”

  Without needing to be told, Kellen’s date played using her own rules, distracting the guys on the other team with feminine ploys like adjusting bra straps or the flesh inside her bra. The guys on each team tried to distract the girls with ridiculous tricks, feints, and unlikely smashes. Jay saw the game as a mating ritual, as old as time, and, being the scorer, he gave points on the laughs rather than the balls hit.

  “So, who won that?” Vix asked when Kell’s girl retired, giggling.

  “Trent’s team.”

  Sherry folded her arms. “No way. You have to take off points for hitting other people with the ball.”

  “When did that rule happen?” Jay lifted his eyebrows.

  “Today. The guys were showing off and that has to be penalized.”

  “I agree,” Vix said, deadpan. “The game needs to be fair. The only people hit by the ball were female, and the only people hitting people with the ball were male, so in all, I think the women won.” She tilted her chin.

  “Let’s have a challenge game of men against women, then.” Jay rose to his feet and stripped off his shirt. He grinned at her. “Which means you have to play to make four a side. Who wants to sit out?”

  Trent sat out, and he prowled among the stacked flats, choosing those he could knock apart and reuse while Jay got to play against Vix. His height gave him an edge and his strength proved most of his smashes winners, but he played harder that day than he ever had, whether to draw Vix’s eyes or to work off tension, he couldn’t say.

  Without a scorer, no one won. No one cared. Kell’s girls looked sweaty, and one draped her arm over his shoulders. The other, not to be outdone, snuggled up to his other side. Jay shook his head and caught Luke’s eye. Luke shrugged.

  “It must be lunch time.” Sherry rattled around in her big shopping bag. “All that admiring of muscles has given me a huge appetite.”

  “Yeah, but for what?” Luke let a leering smile crease his face.

  “Lunch. I’ve got three kids, in case you haven’t noticed.” She stood, a brown paper bag in her hands, clearly waiting.

  Steve and Trent set up a couple of sawhorses near the opened big door and Kell topped them with a black masking flat. Sherry wandered over and unpacked the bag, placing thick sandwiches on the roll of kitchen paper she’d brought. The groupies had apparently been organized, too, and brought out plastic glasses and a supermarket cake. Kell supplied soda and lemonade.

  Vix watched from a distance, looking like she thought she should leave.

  “Are you going to stay for lunch?” Jay walked over to her and put his hands on her throne, prepared to move the monstrosity to the table for her to use if she chose.

  She turned her head away. “I want to cover up that body of yours and hide it from view,” she muttered.

  “Whose view?”

  “Mine.”

  He laughed. She wanted him. Perhaps she didn’t know she did. All those orders she had given him last night might have put off another man, but not him. He didn’t want to scare her. Ever. He could guess she’d been intimidated enough by her husband, who apparently didn’t know how to make love to a young virgin, which she implied she had been when she married him. Apparently, Timmy-boy, a good ten years older than her, hadn’t valued her as the prized possession she ought to have been.

  “You should have more consideration,” she said in a low voice. “You teased me all last night and now you want to do the same today.”

  “C’mere,” he said gruffly.

  She folded her arms.

  He took a step into her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “What color are my eyes?”

  “Denim.”

  “You’ll have to learn to lift your gaze.”

  She stared straight at him. A pulse throbbed in her throat.

  “Lunch it is, while I’m half-dressed and in full view.”

  She nodded.

  “For now.”

  Her big eyes stared.

  He’d begun to enjoy this new game and since he knew he couldn’t do a bloody thing in the warehouse, he thought he might as well appreciate the anticipation. He wanted her and he would have her, but not with his friends around, and not until she was ready. His first time with her needed to be perfect, for her sake if not for his.

  After examining his expression, she broke his hold.r />
  He stared at her, noting her narrowed gaze. “If you don’t want me, say so.”

  “You’re getting really tricky now. You don’t plan to touch me. I just can’t work out why you want to make me think you do. If you’re trying to be faithful to this Lonny, why not say so?”

  “Don’t you think it’s more comfortable getting to know someone before you fall into bed with them?”

  She tossed her head and the rest of her pencil-clasped knot of hair bounded in curls onto her shoulders. The pencil clattered onto the concrete floor. “If everyone knew everyone else, I think condom sales would take a dive. Knowing someone is the greatest deterrent to sex that I can think of.” She bent to pick up her hair holder, apparently sure she’d had the last word.

  “I don’t think it hurts to see the color of someone’s eyes first.”

  She put a finger in the middle of his chest. “Yours are green,” she said, her voice husky. “A deep, dark, confident green and you have thick, girly eyelashes.”

  “We’ll have to stop this.” He stepped back. “And you can guess why.”

  Her eyes widened and she breathed out. “Here we go again.”

  He ate his doorstop sandwich, appreciating the fact that she had noticed the color of his eyes. She’d met his single stipulation. He didn’t have to hold her off forever, as long as they could be very discreet. If Lonny found out, she would have a cow, but if Vix’s father found out, he could produce a whole stampeding herd. James Tremain was one of the most powerful men in the state and once he’d had influence in Jay’s life. Although the fight with Tim had ended that connection, he still had the power to mess with Jay’s prospects. A smarter man than Jay wouldn’t play with fire, but Jay didn’t intend to be intimidated by money, now or ever.

  He would like to be good enough for a woman like Vix, who was educated, quick-witted, earnest, fresh, clean, and wholesome. Just once he wanted to have a woman with inborn class. She played volleyball well, too, not like an athlete but like a fit, active woman. He liked that. Apparently, she’d spent the past year at the gym instead of mourning the loss of Tim. He liked that, too.

  After the game, she went back into the paint room, he and the guys started shifting flats and reclaiming wood, and Sherry went home to the kids. Kell’s girls huddled, possibly playing rock/paper/scissors to see who got the muscle-bound clod, though by now Jay knew the girls were friends who would leave the decision to fate, if that’s what women did.

  By the time he and the guys had stacked as much wood as they could, Vix had a pile of paint cans outside her room, and finally she emerged looking sexily flushed. She brushed her hands together, as if finished with the job. Her smile said satisfaction. “What’s the rule for throwing out paint?”

  “The same as for domestic dumping. You have to leave the paint to harden and then it’s red-top waste.”

  “I can’t reuse any of this, which is a shame because there’s enough to paint a house.”

  “Mine needs painting.”

  She rested her forefinger on her chin. “What color do you want?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “There’s not enough of a single color to do a whole room.”

  “I’ll mix a few together so that I get enough.”

  “You ought to buy the colors you want. This lot mixed together will only make murk,” she said, toeing a can. “Or, maybe…You could mix all of these greens with this dreadful yellow and get a quite interesting citrus green. Which room are you planning on painting?”

  “All.”

  “Are you going to do up the whole of the inside of the house?”

  “Sure. Eventually.”

  She gave him a delighted smile. “The house is yours, then. You have great bones there.”

  “Worst house in the best street in the worst neighborhood. But I got a good deal when I bought it. When I sell it, if the Port goes ahead as predicted, I might make some money. I sure could use some.”

  Her expression veiled. “Most people could. Anyway, I’m about to head off. Would you like me to give you a lift home? We live in the same direction.”

  He saw Steve and Trent were sitting on the floor, clearly ready to leave. “Yeah. We’ll be starting at eight tomorrow. Right, guys? Let’s go.” He rattled his keys and the guys shuffled out of the door, last minute comments consisting of no more than “See ya.”

  Jay thought if Vix took him home, he could persuade her to stay the night. Maybe. She looked rather more businesslike now. Forever an optimist, he ushered her out to her car and piled in. As she backed her car out of the lot, he said, “Would you like me to cook tonight, or do you want to go out?”

  “Sorry. I have work to catch up on.”

  The finality of her tone shot his eyebrows to his hairline. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Somewhere along the line, he’d erred, but he didn’t know where. “What happened?” he asked, staring at her classic profile as she put the car into forward.

  “Nothing, fortunately, as you know.” Focused on the road, she began to drive like an elderly lawyer, slow and careful.

  “I thought we had an understanding.”

  “No. You played with me, I played with you, and now we’re even.”

  “You mean you had no intention of sleeping with me tonight?”

  “No more intention than you meant to have sex with me last night.” She laughed.

  “Did you want to do it without a condom?”

  “You had others.”

  “Watch out. That guy in front wants to change lanes.”

  She gave him the look. “You had a box in the bathroom.”

  “You’re kidding. You went through my cabinet?” He tried to sound outraged.

  Her cheeks tinged with red. “Do you know a woman who wouldn’t?”

  “I forgot I had condoms in the bathroom.” The lie clogged his throat.

  “Yet, that’s where you went to get the one that you took into the bedroom to break in front of me. So, you really do care for the woman who came to see you this morning. Lonny, is that her name?”

  “That’s her name, and no, I’m not involved with her that way.”

  “Well, I just don’t care what way you are involved with her.” She took a right that led through the parklands to Port Road.

  Although she might think she could put him off with her hauteur, he knew she would only have mentioned Ilona if she felt a tinge of jealousy. And someone who didn’t care didn’t get jealous. “You don’t have to take me home. You can stop here and I’ll walk.”

  “Don’t be huffy. It would take you a day and a half to walk to your house from here.”

  “You think I’m unfit?”

  “I think you’re narked.” She gave a satisfied smile. “It’s best this way, really. We have to work together and we need to keep our relationship on a purely professional basis.” She lifted her lovely chin.

  “You’re right.” He gave her a friendly smile, like he didn’t care either. Normally, he wouldn’t. At this stage of his life, a casual relationship suited him well enough, but she wasn’t the sort of women he could be casual about. She was beautiful and broken and he knew his mending skills left a lot to be desired.

  He let himself lose every emotion as she pulled up the car, her face guilty. She could stay guilty, though the blame for this slight interruption to a promising relationship could be placed at no one’s door but his own. He scratched his ear as he watched her drive through the parklands and out of sight. Then, he turned and jogged back into the city to the car park nearest last night’s venue, where he retrieved his motorbike, the overnight parking fee well worth having the excuse to get Vix to transport him twice.

  Throughout his life, one step forward had always preceded two steps back. As usual, he would have to find a way of earning his second chance.

  Bring on tomorrow.

  Chapter 4

  Vix had loved every second of the volleyball game yesterday—the physical ac
tivity and being with people her own age. She hadn’t liked leaving JD to walk home, but she couldn’t relent or he might think she would chase him, and of course she wouldn’t. Bitter experience had taught her not to let a man dictate his terms to her.

  Shadows still covered the parking lot when, dressed in her worst jeans and her oldest shirt, she pulled up her car outside the warehouse. Some people liked daylight saving, but she preferred her mornings where they ought to be, an hour later. Cold air chased her inside the building a little after nine. The place smelled of mold and sawdust and sounded like a day in hell with the bench saw shrieking in the distance.

  Although she feared a slight awkwardness after her harsh assessment of him yesterday, JD, who had set up a long makeshift table near the light of the open doorway, lifted his gaze and gave her his big, tough-guy grin.

  “Sleep well?” He had a pencil tucked behind his ear and his biceps bulged as he crossed his arms. Wood shavings clung to the front of his jeans and he wore heavy work boots and an open shirt, the sleeves rolled up.

  Her lower belly reacted with a clench, but she was determined to show no reaction. “Like the dead.” If she could maintain her assumed confidence, the friendly relationships she had been offered yesterday by people who teased each other, liked each other, and worked and played with each other, might not be withdrawn.

  She hadn’t had that sort of relationship with anyone in seven years. Marriage had taken her out of her world and into Tim’s. Tim hadn’t liked her childhood friends and so she’d contented herself with his friends, couples who drove fast cars, and judged clothes, restaurants, holidays, houses, and the quality of their children’s education by price. Now, none knew what to do with his unrelenting wife when she refused all their invitations to spend her money. She didn’t have the front to try to resume her older friendships when she’d been the one to end them…on Tim’s insistence.

  “I’ll get a key cut for you later.” He couldn’t have looked more male as he bent to set out a few pages of diagrams.

  Hoping she looked businesslike, too, she indicated her direction. “I’ll be in the paint room if you want me.” He gave her an eyebrow-raised smile and she swallowed, aware of her innuendo too late. She cleared her throat, knowing he didn’t want her. “Figuratively speaking.”