Dear Jane Read online

  She unwrapped her legs from around him. “My sofa will never be the same.”

  “My knees will never be the same.” Worse than that, though, his heart would never be the same.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jane’s neck ached and her arm was asleep. Not the tingly kind of sleep, but totally numb. An infomercial was on TV about some kind of kitchen slicer/dicer. She’d never need something like that. She did takeout on weeknights because she didn’t get home before nine thirty, and weekends were for recovering from the work week, not learning to cook.

  But she’d like to learn to cook. She’d like to learn a lot of things…

  Like how to stop killing herself for a job she hated, and how to tell her family to screw off the next time they mocked or pressured her about dating.

  Behind her on the sofa, Eric shifted and pulled her closer. “Good morning,” he whispered. “Is that coffee I smell?”

  “Good morning. It’s coffee. I have it on a timer.” She rolled a little to relieve the arm, but it wasn’t enough.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Sofa’s a bit small. My arm’s asleep.”

  “I suggested we move to the bedroom last night, but you were opposed.”

  Yes. Completely opposed. Sofa meant fling. Bedroom meant something more, like a relationship. Neither of them would benefit from taking this any further than the sofa.

  “Was that the second or third time? My memory’s a little hazy,” she said with a yawn. From the foot of the sofa, Gandy yawned, too, and stretched.

  Eric trailed his fingers over her hip and grew hard against her backside. “Let me jog your memory.”

  God, he was unstoppable, but this whole thing needed to come to a quick halt. Last night was amazing. If she were given a do-over, she’d do it exactly the same way all over again. But it couldn’t be an ongoing thing. They’d get caught and lose their jobs. Or worse, she’d get caught up and lose her heart. She pushed up to sit, shaking her head to clear it.

  His warm hand rubbed up and down her back. “No remorse, Jane. Last night was incredible. Don’t ruin it with regret.”

  She clicked off the enthusiastic onion chopping lady on TV. “I have no regrets.”

  His expression was skeptical.

  “Well, I have lots of regrets about my life, but none about last night.”

  He sat up beside her, still naked. “What about your life do you regret?”

  Oh God. It was the morning-after heart-to-heart. She shrugged. “Leading with my head.”

  He studied her. “Instead of…?”

  She stood and wrapped a throw blanket from the couch around her. “I have this client.” Was she really going to go there? Yep. She needed to work though this, and he was the one to work it out with. “She’s in the middle of a nasty divorce. Only, she doesn’t want it. She rolled right over and gave in to every demand because if she can’t have her husband back, nothing else matters.”

  “Makes for a crappy settlement.”

  “She said something to me, and I can’t quit thinking about it.”

  Reaching down to his pile of clothes on the floor, he pulled on his boxers. “Which was?”

  God, it felt good to have someone to talk to who wouldn’t judge her. At least she hoped he wouldn’t. “She said that I should act from my heart and follow my instincts.” She shot a look to find him studying her, listening with his head tilted, like she loved. “And you know what? I think she’s right. I act based on intellectual analysis, which almost always goes against my instinct.”

  He took her hand between his and squeezed reassuringly. “Well, clearly, you’ve not steered yourself too wrong. Look at your success.”

  “No. That’s not it. I’m successful, yes. But…” How could she explain it without sounding like a soap opera? I’m not happy seemed so sappy. She swiveled to face him, rearranging the blanket over her knees. “Last night was the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time, and even that was tempered with negativity from my logical side, telling me all the things that could go wrong because of it.”

  “Nothing will go wrong.”

  “Yes, but it could.”

  He leaned back and ran his hands over the dark stubble that had grown overnight. He was gorgeous this way: rumpled, stubbly, voice still husky from sleep—and it sickened her she’d never see him like this again.

  If only she were more like him, happy with his job and life. “If you could have any other job in the world, what would it be?” she asked.

  His brow furrowed. “Working at the firm is all I’ve ever wanted to do, and I love it. I’d like it to be a little more laid back, but law is my thing.”

  Snuggling back into the sofa, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, memorizing his smell. She was going to miss this.

  “What would you do if you could do anything else in the world?” he asked, leaning his head on hers.

  “I don’t know. I used to know.” And a huge smile crossed her lips at the memory.

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s silly.”

  “Nothing about you is silly—well, except for your cat. He’s silly.”

  Gandalf meowed from the kitchen, as if he knew they were discussing him.

  “He’s making his breakfast order.” She rose, still cocooned in the blanket, and shuffled to the kitchen. By the time she opened the cat food can, Eric appeared, still in his underwear.

  “Sorry about your clothes.”

  He wrapped his arms around her from behind as she dumped the can in Gandy’s dish. “Good thing I won’t need clothes all weekend.”

  She smiled despite her reservations. What harm could the rest of the weekend do? her heart asked. A whole hell of a lot, her brain answered.

  …

  The cat food stank to high heaven, but Jane smelled fantastic. Eric stepped back as she set the bowl down for Gandalf, then wrapped her in his arms again when she stood, loving the smell of shampoo, salt, and the slightest hint of sex. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  And she wasn’t going to. She pulled out a skillet. “Two eggs or three?”

  “Three.” He leaned against the counter and watched her fumble around with the stove, still draped in her blanket. “Plus, an answer to my question. What would you do if you could have any job in the world?”

  She placed the egg carton on the counter, but kept her back to him. “I’d open a pet care boutique.”

  Never in a million years would he have guessed that. Doctor, astronaut, scientist, professor, but never a pet shop owner. While she cracked eggs, he poured two cups of coffee, staying silent to avoid saying the wrong thing.

  “See? I told you it was silly.” With awkward, jerky movements, she dropped the shells in the trash. “Ridiculous.” She cracked several more eggs into the bowl while he decided on the most effective response.

  He took a sip of coffee. “Like dog food and cat food, leashes, maybe sell some animals kind of place?”

  With a fork, she beat the eggs. He was troubled she still hadn’t faced him since making this confession.

  “Yes and no. We wouldn’t sell animals. There are too many in shelters.” She stopped feverishly whipping the eggs as if caught up in a memory. “We had it all planned out. We’d call it Animal Attraction and have pet-based services for working people in the city. Dog walking, boarding, washing, home-sitting, training, vet services.” She spoke faster as she went, caught up by excitement.

  When she returned to beating the eggs, he moved near and turned on the burner under the pan and found some oil, pouring a bit in the bottom. “So, who is ‘we’?”

  “Ugh.” She dropped the fork in the sink. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  He took the bowl of eggs and poured them in the pan and handed her a spatula from the utensil cup near the stove. He thought it best to let her lead this conversation, so he didn’t push. Hopefully, she’d open up and he could hear the rest of this surprising information. He found a partial loaf of bread in the pantry a
nd popped two pieces in the toaster, then hit the fridge in search of butter and jam.

  “We came up with the plan when we were in second grade. Originally, it was just me and my best friends, Caitlin Ramos and Fiona Nichol. Then others joined in over the years. By the time we were in eighth grade, we had it all mapped out.” She ran the spatula around the outside rim of the pan, loosening the eggs. “We really believed we could make it happen. Even through high school and undergrad, Caitlin, Fee, and I schemed to open Animal Attraction.”

  “But you went to law school instead.”

  “Originally, I figured a law degree would be helpful as a small business owner. Then, I guess I grew up and realized Animal Attraction was just a silly pipe dream. There was no way we could make it work. That kind of store needed to be in the heart of the city and wouldn’t work out where rents are cheaper because we needed a dense pool of working people. Professionals with money who needed help keeping their pets healthy and comfortable.”

  He placed the butter and jam on the table. “In other words, you’d either need partners with deep pockets, or investors.”

  “It was easier to just follow my brothers over to DR&S and not make waves.”

  He pulled out two plates from the cabinet. “Where are Caitlin and Fiona now?”

  She shook her head. “Fiona became a veterinarian and works in Brooklyn. We have coffee every now and then. I have no idea where Caitlin is. She dropped out of college and married some guy whose family made electric yard equipment or something. The last time I saw her was at the wedding six years ago. They moved to Georgia, and she just sort of dropped off. No return calls or anything. Oh shit. I’m burning this.”

  He relieved her of the pan and scooped the eggs out, letting the stuck burned part stay in the bottom of the skillet. After running water in the pan, he grabbed the toast and placed both plates on the table. “You’re more distracted than usual.”

  She grabbed her cup of coffee from the counter and joined him at the table. “It’s the Dear Jane effect. If the guy doesn’t strikeout right away, I get all nervous and flustered and weird. It’s why I haven’t been asked on a second date since graduation. It never hits me in my job, only when I’m one on one with a guy in a romantic setting.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. “Romantic, huh?” Her blush was adorable. Leaning across the tiny table, he cupped her cheek in his palm, then pulled her closer and kissed her. “Dear Jane. I’ve been here every Friday night for five weeks, and we’ve had lunch together every day for three weeks. Taking that into consideration, as well as the nature of our interaction last night, I’d venture to say, you’ve had a second date.”

  Her grin made his chest tight.

  After they’d finished breakfast she took him by the hand and he followed, not caring what she was up to as long as she took him with her. “Where are you taking me, Jane?”

  Her eyes sparkled as if she knew the punchline to some inside joke. “My bedroom.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sunday came way too soon for Eric.

  Jane had already blow dried her hair by the time he got out of the shower around four thirty in the afternoon. She looked like a dream brushing her long blonde hair, which only an hour ago had been fanned across her pillows as they’d made love. “I’m really sorry about ending our weekend,” she said. “My family always has an early dinner together on Sundays.”

  Eric slid on his beer-stained suit slacks, then went to work on his socks and shoes. “I understand.” His head did, but his heart didn’t. Everything in him wanted to attempt persuading her to stay longer with him. Maybe this was what his dad had felt like. Conflicted by the choice of doing what was expected or what was more fun. Clearly, Jane had more self-discipline than he did. Instead of making a pitch for her to stay home, he tied his shoe.

  She smoothed her hair back and twisted it into a knot on the back of her head.

  Shirtless, and still wet from his shower, he stood behind her and their eyes met in the vanity mirror. “Why don’t you leave your hair down?”

  “I always put it up like this for work and when I go do things with my family.” She placed a bobby pin in the bun, then another to hold it in place.

  He rested his hands on her shoulders, their gazes still locked in the mirror. “I understand you want that slick, professional look for clients, but why wear it like that at dinner with your family?” He leaned close to her ear. “It’s beautiful down. And incredibly sexy.”

  She licked her lips and shifted in her seat, her body clearly as affected by his nearness as he was by hers. Then, she shook her head and broke the spell. “Family is business. It’s always a fight to be taken seriously.”

  “I take you seriously.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t count.”

  He stepped back, completely stricken. He thought he’d gotten over this. That all these years working to prove his dad wrong had obliterated the hurt. Wordlessly, he slid on his wrinkled shirt and started buttoning it from the bottom, too shaken to get the button through on the first try as his memory took him back to when he was five years old in the hallway outside his parents’ door.

  “This is Eric’s first T-ball game. Please stay,” his mother begged. Wearing his favorite Superman pajamas—the ones with the cape that Velcroed on—Eric placed his ear against the door, holding his breath to hear his father’s response.

  “You’ve known about this camping trip for six weeks. I can’t just tell the guys no this late. I won’t let them down like that.”

  “Your friends will be fine without you. Think of Eric. Don’t let him down.”

  “Leave him out of it. This is between you and me.”

  Eric cracked the door open and peeked into the room. Neither of them noticed as he slipped inside.

  His father shook a finger at his mother, who clasped her hands in front of her like Eric did when he needed to pee. His father’s face was pinched and angry. “It’s not that you want me to stay. It’s that you don’t want me to go and have fun, isn’t that it?”

  Five-year-old Eric’s voice was high and light. “I want you to stay, Daddy.”

  His father’s reaction was immediate. “You don’t count.”

  It was the last time he’d seen his father alive and the first time he’d seen his mother cry.

  Jane stood at her dressing table. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  Mom had said the same thing about his father all those years ago—that he didn’t mean it the way it sounded—but Eric knew better as the tears rolled down his mother’s cheeks and the front door slammed.

  Jane took his face in her hands. “Listen to me. Of course you count. I love that you take me seriously and you think I’m sexy with my hair down.” She released him and he robotically resumed buttoning his shirt. “My family judges me and always tells me what I’m doing wrong.”

  He glanced at his watch and purposefully kept his voice level. “You’re going to be late.”

  …

  Something was going on with Eric. Something weird. Jane followed him from her bedroom into the living room. As he picked up his jacket from where he’d hung it over the chair on Friday, her heart pounded so hard it hurt. This was the Dear Jane effect times ten. No, times a thousand. She had to find a way to make it right. “What I meant was they’re my family and I have to interact with them the rest of my life. And you and I…” It was as if a switch had flipped somewhere and all emotion had left his eyes. Oh shit. That was the wrong thing to say, too.

  He slid on his coat. “You and I, what?”

  Oh God. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. The rest of the sentence was a blank.

  “I’ll give it a go, then, and fill in the blanks for you.” He closed his eyes for a moment as if getting himself together. “You said, ‘I have to interact with them the rest of my life. And you and I are…’” he repeated, voice distant. “… Temporary…or a passing thing…or insignificant…” He paused for a moment. “Or
maybe you were going to say that you and I are a mistake.”

  “No!” She blocked his path to the door. “Nothing about this is a mistake. That’s not what I was going to say at all.” She had to find a way to get through to him.

  He folded his arms over his chest and simply stared.

  “I don’t know how to fix this. I must have hit a trigger or said what some girlfriend said or something.” That seemed to bring him back to focus, and he looked at her directly. At least she had his attention now. She needed to make it count.

  “This has been the best few days I can remember,” she started. She relaxed a little when he tilted his head, like he did when he was really listening. “Nothing about this is insignificant. This might be the most significant thing to happen in my adult life.” He unfolded his arms, and she rejoiced inside that he was hearing her. “More than anything in the world, I want this to be a normal relationship. One where we can go out in public and I take you to dinner with my family on Sundays.” Tears pricked behind her eyes. “But we can never do that. You and I both knew what we were getting into from our very first kiss.” Only she really hadn’t. She didn’t know she’d care about him this much. “Our annual reviews are in a few days. There’s a lot at stake. We have to keep what happened between us under wraps or both of us go down. We’ve worked way too hard to blow it now. But I want you to know this weekend meant a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.” She reached out to brush her fingers along his jaw, which had almost three days of growth. “I’m sorry I spoke without thinking.”

  “Sorry I overreacted.” He opened his arms, and she stepped into them with a sigh. “You’re right. My response was based on past experience.” He smoothed his hands up her spine and back down again.

  “Wanna tell me about it?”

  “No. I want to kiss you.”

  She held up a finger, then pulled her cell out of her pocket and left a message for her dad that she was going to be late. Something she’d never done before.

  As she led him back to the bedroom, she wished this fairy-tale weekend would never end. And that was the real problem: it was a fantasy that couldn’t last. She’d fallen completely for Eric Blackwell, and there was no way on earth this would end with “…and they lived happily ever after.”