Two Years

I can't believe it's been two years since I updated this story. Two. Freaking. Years.

*sigh*

Well, you know what? Life is a bitch and time can't be bought.

Life just has this way of sucking out all the inspiration in a woman. Job, dog, house, family--these things all require all my attention. When I finally do get to settle down and chill for a minute, all I want to do is sleep. Or eat. Or mindlessly watch television. Or mindlessly eat while watching television and then dozing off on the couch to take a nap before bed.

Lately, my inner muse has been clearing her throat, trying to get my attention and I'm all, "What? I don't have TIME! I have to DO ALL THE THINGS!!"  Honestly, even if I had the means to write at home--which I don't right now--the last thing I want to do when I come home from a job that sucks the life out of me is sit down in front of a computer and put stories on "paper." Stories that, let's be honest, nobody is going to really read and enjoy anyway.

I thought the writer dream had died, though. I sang it a farewell song and cried over it's coffin because I hadn't been inspired to write in so long. I have this job that takes up all my energy and time and has even made me bitter and mean; and why would anyone want to read what a bitter, mean, spinster library associate wrote?

But apparently, the writer dream didn't die. It just took a long nap so that I could have the time and space to flip out, stress eat my way into an extra 20lbs I don't need and really learn to hate getting up in the mornings. Now that I'm fully mired in professional misery it's rubbing its eyes and wiping away the drool, hoping that I'll come build a snowman with it.

I AIN'T GOT TIME FOR NO STINKIN' SNOWMANS.

The writer dream ain't got time for no stinkin' stressed out woman, either.

If I thought or honestly believed that writing would be my ticket out of my current professional misery, I'd flex my credit card, buy a computer and write till my fingers popped off and my eyes bled. But earning a living from writing does not come easy, nor does it happen to 99.9% of the dreamers who write. What are the odds that anything I wrote would ever see the light of a publishing house? Slim to none. Especially since I am notorious for never actually finishing anything I write. I'd like to present this here on-line serial blog as evidence, Your Honor.

Long Time And All That

So, so sorry for the long hiatus. I had the best of intentions when I started writing this serial. For one, I missed fiction writing. I missed playing with characters and seeing where their stories led me. I also missed entertaining my friends.

So yes. I had the best of intentions.

Life, however, likes to take me places I wasn't aware I'd ever have to go. Work demands on top of family demands on top of personal goals just makes losing myself in the fictional world so much harder. I'm in complete disconnect with my characters, their motivations, etc. Without time to sit and "talk" with them, it's difficult to get them to come back.

That is not to say that I'm quitting. It's just taking a little bit longer to figure out where my fictional writing fits in with my day-to-day life.

Take heart. I have actually begun to think a little bit about what the next Episode might be about. So the story any my interest in it is not dead. Just on hold.

All that to say, HOW THE HECK ARE  YA'LL??

I do miss interacting with my friends who followed me here. So if you're ever in the mood to find out what Life is doing to me, come on over to my blog. If not, I don't blame you. I'm one gigantic (sorta literally) snoozefest.

Episode 18

Okay, ya'll. Here 'tis. I finally wrote another scene! It's not at all what I'd aimed for and I'm not sure I even like it, but it's what came out on the page screen, so... Anyway, I realize it's another "cliffhanger" but ya'll should be used to that by now--especially  those of you who've read my junk way back in Drifters. lol So, enjoy! And let me know what you're curious about as far as the Chronicles go, so far. Maybe it'll jolt me back into neglecting my work in order to write. hehehe (((hugs)) Thanks for hangin' in here with me!

His delivery was two hours late, his sisters had not yet shown up in the office and Jack was feeling like royal shit. He’d handled things badly the night before. Worse than badly. And he was feeling every bit the jackass Jenna and Amrys were always teasing him about being.

The sound of a truck out back had him pushing away from his desk to peer out the window. It was about damn time. “You guys forget where you were going this morning?” he barked at the two delivery guys who were rolling the back door up on the refrigerated truck. Racks and stacks of beef were still swaying from the sudden stop the truck had made at the delivery entrance of Steely J’s.

“Quitcher naggin’, granny,” Gerry, the burly driver barked back.  “The butcher has a new girlfriend. An affliction I can assume you’re familiar with.”

Grunting, Jack opened up the industrial walk-in refrigerator for the guys to unload their cargo. He refused to think of Laurel at the mention of girlfriend, though she hadn’t been far from his mind since he’d left her the night before. He certainly didn’t intend on her getting in the way of his business. Steely J’s was far too important to let a woman--any woman--ruin it.

Once the truck was emptied into the fridge and the delivery men had left, Jack took the invoice and inventory sheet sheet upstairs to the girls’ office. Jenna was just pulling her chair out to sit.  Her hair was still damp and he couldn’t help but notice the steaming cup of coffee and the white bakery bag on her desk.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence,” he griped and tossed the paperwork on her desk.

“You are lucky I haven’t had to have anyone break your legs yet. I'm just chomping at the bit. What the hell did you do to Laurel, anyway? She almost glaciered my head when I first walked in.”

Shit. “Nothing.”

His sister dug around in the white bag and pulled out a chocolate éclair. His mouth watered as he eyed it. Pausing, she shook her head. “Don’t even bother, brother.”

“Since when did you get to be so mean?” he grumped and heaved his aching body onto Amrys’ desk chair. “And where is your sister?”

“Our sister is probably still showering with her new boyfriend.”

Recalling Amrys’ dress from the night before and her flirtation with Conner, Jack lifted an eyebrow. Judging from Jenna’s lack of ire, she must not know with whom their sister was showering. Or maybe she did, he reconsidered, eyeing the white bakery bag. It looked half full, still.

“New boyfriend?” he feigned ignorance.

“Gerard something. I apparently interrupted them this morning when I called her to find out what the crap you were talking about. Which, by the way, I still don’t have any answers. Other than that you might be playing for the other team now AND you did something to piss Laurel off.”

“This is too much for me to take in on an empty stomach,” he reached for the bag. Jenna snatched it away with a growl.

“Not on your life, brother. These are mine. If you want donuts, man up and face Laurel.”

“Was she really that angry?”

“Like I said--Glacial. I’m just now thawing out.  I offered to have your legs broken and she’s considering it. What did you do? And who is Mama’s new roommate? And why were you really on my couch this morning?”

Not liking the direction the conversations was going, “I’ve got to get back downstairs,” he hoisted himself up and headed for the stairs only to be met with Amrys’ raised eyebrow and another bakery bag.

“You just couldn’t leave her alone, could you? I hope you know this means you’ll never have pastry again,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Good morning to you, too, Sunshine. You’re late.”

“Dock it from my paycheck. Oh, that’s right. I’m part owner too, so suck it, brother.”

“You two make me dizzy,” he mumbled and pushed past her to head back downstairs.

Not wanting to hear what else they might have to say about him, Jack took the stairs two at a time. It was bad enough that he felt like a jerk already. He sure didn’t need his two nosey sisters driving that point home.

Once back in his office, the phone on his desk mocked him. He should call her. Apologize. But what could he say that would make any difference?  That he’d been so intent on not getting her into bed that he’d intentionally pissed her off? Because that would go over so well, he mused.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head. No. Best to just leave things alone. She couldn’t stay mad at him forever but even if she did, perhaps it was for the best. Laurel presented the kind of temptation Jack didn’t want. Things like marriage. And kids. Laurel was a lot of things but a one night stand wasn’t one of them. And that’s all Jack would--no, could give her.

“Grrrr,” he growled as he picked up the phone only to shove inside the desk drawer so it would stop mocking him. “Dammit,” he muttered, dragging it back out. He’d half dialed her number before slamming the handset back into the cradle.

Shoving his hands through his hair, he paced restlessly around his office. He was doing exactly what he’d sworn just minutes before that he wouldn’t do. He was letting a woman interfere with his work. He’d also let her drive him to the comfort of his sister’s home. And she’d deprived him of hours of sleep.

This was ending. Now.

Locking up behind him, Jack called his sisters from his cell to let them know he was running an errand. Bypassing his truck, Jack strode down the sidewalk toward the bakery. He needed to burn the excess energy before he got there and he exploded, taking her out with him.

The bell over the door jangled as he entered the bakery and walked straight into a crowd of hungry folks. Well crap. He’d been so preoccupied with his bungle that he’d clear forgotten that mornings were her busiest time at the bakery. He couldn’t see behind the counter to know if she was even back there, still.

Several people called out to him in greeting and he forced a smile, hoping that they didn’t notice as he searched for Laurel amidst them all. He spotted Clay, the college kid she’d hired to help out in the mornings, but no Laurel. And dammit if the line wasn’t moving slower than a snail’s pace. Someone needed to light a fire under that kid’s ass.

“Hey Jack,” Gray, one of the Blackston’s  older cowhands greeted him with a hearty slap on the back. “You lookin’ for your mom?”

Taking a break from searching for a glimpse of Laurel, Jacky eyed the older man. “Should I be?”

Gray’s eyes twinkled a bit before he shrugged. “Not sure yet. If it makes you feel any better, Aiden’s got us keepin’ a close eye on things. Dax makes one wrong move and he’s a dead man.”

Sighing inwardly, Jack nodded. He’d been so bent out of shape over the way things had ended with Laurel he’d clean forgotten about the situation with his mother. Dag-gum stupid town.

“Thanks, man. But I don’t think it’s going to be an issue for much longer. My sisters and I are on it.”

“I’m sure your dad is, too,” Gray winked. “Hell of a woman, Miss Vicky.”

Grimacing, Jack agreed, “Yeah, she sure is. Speaking of women, do you know if Laurel’s working this morning?”

Gray chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “She was till you walked in. See ya ‘round, Jack.”

Well shit.

Episode 17

Author's Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the long delay. I have no excuses other than my lameness. Hope this will do though I know it's probably not at all what ya'll were expecting. Wasn't what I was expecting either! lol

“Gah!” Jenna yelped at the sight of her brother on her couch. What the hell? He looked as though he were passed out but Jack didn’t do drunk. Growing up in a bar and seeing firsthand how stupid it was had pretty much cured all the Steely children of drinking to excess.  But if he wasn’t drunk, what was he doing here?

Creeping across the living room, she studied him looking for any signs or clues as to what might be wrong. He looked fine. Rumpled and a little drool-y around the mouth but fine. Just asleep. On her couch.

Careful not to make too much noise, Jenna lowered herself onto the ottoman in front of the couch and propped her chin on her hand as she stared at him. She knew it was childish but it was something he used to do to her all the time when they were kids. Used to scare the mess out of her.

It took longer than she’d expected but several moments later he finally blinked his eyes open made a face at her. “Would you stop that?” he growled, his voice rough from sleep.

“Dang it. You were supposed to jump outta your skin,” she groused and nudged his shoulder. “What are you doing here, Jack?”

Groaning, he wrestled himself into a sitting position, taking a few moments to scrub at his face before stretching until every bone in his body seemed to crackle. He looked like he’d gone on a three day bender. His eyes were bloodshot, his face haggard and well, he just looked old. Not like her brother at all.

Finally he gave his head one last scrub and staggered to his feet. “Sorry. I meant to be gone before you got up.”

“It’s no problem. But what are you doing here? Something wrong at your place?”

He winced and shook his head. “Your mother invaded.”

“Why is she always my mother when she’s being a pain? She gave birth to you, too, you know.” Rising to follow him, she jerked her head toward the tiny kitchen. “Want some coffee?”

Shaking his head, he patted his pockets and looked around the floor. “You see my boots anywhere?”

Nudging his shoes from their sentry near the door she crossed her arms and studied him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Grabbing his boots, he helped himself to a chair at the kitchen table to sit to tug them on.  When she merely raised an eyebrow at him, he shrugged. “Why does anything have to be wrong? You don’t want me crashing on your couch anymore, I won’t. Sorry.”

Jenna shook her head in exasperation as she made her way across the kitchen to the coffee pot. Ignoring his no to coffee, she took down two cups and filled them, adding sugar and cream to her own and a teaspoon of sugar into his.  He was still wrestling with his boots when she set his mug on the table in front of him and sat in the chair opposite, her knees drawn up to her chest. “You know darned well that you’re welcome to my couch anytime you need it. But something’s up. You look like crap and my dashing devil-may-care big brother never looks like crap. I know Mama invading your place didn’t send you spiraling. What happened? You finally meet a girl who could resist your charms?” she teased, hoping to lighten his mood.

When he flinched, she dropped her feet to the floor with a thud. She was right? Jenna was never right. And who’d be smart enough to resist her brother anyway? “So who is she?” Jenna honestly couldn’t imagine any woman telling her brother no. At least, not without some promise of a yes later. Women flocked to Jack like gnats to bananas.

“Shut up. I’ve got to get going.” He lifted the coffee mug to his lips and took a long draw before setting it back down and heading to the door. “And by the way, you might want to speak with your mother about her new roommate,” he tossed as he slammed out the front door.

“What new roommate?” she hollered after him, scrambling from her seat. “Jack!” she called, yanking open the front door. But he was already in his truck and merely gave her a salute as he backed out of her drive.

“What new roommate?” she grumbled and shut the door.  Leaning against it for a moment to gather her thoughts, Jenna shook her head. Nothing about this morning made any sense. Nothing about this week made any sense.

First that thing with Aiden at Steely J’s and then Jack on her couch. Now something about her mother having a roommate? Had she fallen into some kind of warped alternate universe where everyone but her was crazy?

Shaking her head, Jenna pushed away from the door and retrieved her coffee from the table to take a long gulp. Maybe it would help clear the cobwebs from her dusty mind. Or, she pondered as her stomach gave a loud growl, it would remind her to eat.

Jenna grabbed her phone as she set her mug on the counter and punched Amrys’ number in as she dug a bagel from the bag she’d bought last week. Giving it a sniff, she decided it was still good.

“This had so better be good. Gerard Butler was just about to make me orgasm,” Amrys’ voice grunted from her phone.

“Gerard who?”

“Never mind,” Amrys grumbled and Jenna heard a clatter from her sister’s end of the line. “Dammit.”

“You okay sis?”

“No. I just tripped over my own damn shoes and fell into the hamper. Thanks so much for waking me up.”

Taking a bite from the bagel, Jenna mumbled, “Not a problem. Listen, have you heard anything about Mama having a new roommate? Jack—“

“Ugh. So he did weasel it outta her. His name is spot on except they forgot to add the ass to the end of it. You know, I don’t really care to be around her gossip either but honestly the man could at least pretend to be a gentleman sometimes.” The flush of the toilet muffled over the line and Jenna winced but Amrys continued her tirade. “I mean, she’s not a bad person and it’s obvious she’s got a little crush on him. I swear I could kick his—“

“Amrys. Focus, hon. Who are you talking about? Mama? Is her new roommate some girl Jack’s sniffing after?”

“What?”

“Mama’s roommate. Jack said she had one. Do you know anything about this?”

Amrys’ yawned audibly and Jenna sighed. “He better not be chasing after Mama’s new roommate unless he’s switched teams. Which, the kind of hounddog he is I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s already gone through all the women in Beasly and half of Kessler county. Heck, half of both neighboring counties too. Makes sense he’d have to switch to dudes.”

It took Jenna a moment to figure out what the tarnation her sister was rambling about. “Wait, Mama’s new roommate is a man?”

“That’s what I heard. Listen, babe, I gotta shower. I’ll tell you all about it when I get to work.”

“Amrys, wait. Does Nate know about this Gerard guy?”

Amrys’ laugh echoed moments before the line went dead.

Clicking ‘end’ Jenna snarled as she resisted throwing the phone against the wall. “Nobody ever tells me anything,” she griped to the empty room. Her mostly stale bagel stared up at her from where she’d dropped it on the counter and she sighed, her stomach growling again.

A quick shower later, she was out the door in her customary jeans and t-shirt, her hair hanging damply down her back. She’d scrape it into a ponytail later but she was too hungry and too cantankerous to fool with the blow dryer. As she pulled into town, the scents from the bakery lured her in and she parked in front of it. An older cowboy on his way out held the door for her and she smiled her thanks before stepping across the threshold. The scents that enveloped her were luscious and seductive, causing her stomach to growl violently.

“Oh good gracious,” she murmured appreciatively as she eyed the glass case at the front of the store. It was filled with every kind of pastry imaginable and she’d almost swear that the coffee urn on the counter was filled with something magical if the aroma was anything to go by. It was enough to make her forget that she’d been annoyed at Laurel the day before. The young couple in front of her finally left and Jenna stepped the counter.

 “Laurel, my friend, I think I love you,” she teased without looking up from the delicious treats. “I’ll have one of everything.” When Laurel didn’t reply, Jenna looked up to see the other woman glaring at her. “You okay?”

Laurel shrugged and tapped her fingers on the glass counter top. “I guess your brother told you then?”

“Jack? Tell me what? I swear, nothing about this morning makes any sense. Jack apparently slept on my couch last night and then muttered some nonsense about our mother having a new roommate so I called Amrys and all she did was cuss in my ear about what a jackass our brother is. Do you know anything about her seeing some guy named Gerard? I swear, nobody tells me anything.”

Laurel’s face finally relaxed into a bemused smile as she reached for a white bag and a set of tongs. “The eclaire then?”

“And two donuts. Ooo, and one of those raspberry things on the end there. And coffee. Please. It smells like heaven.”

Laurel filled the bags and rang her up before filling a to-go cup. As Jenna watched the other woman, something her sister had said finally clicked in her brain with Laurel’s initially cold greeting.

“Oh crap. My brother did something awful to you, didn’t he?” At Laurel’s shrug, Jenna grimaced. “I am so sorry. Amrys is right. Our parents forgot to add the most important part to the end of his name.”

Chuckling, Laurel slid the coffee across the counter to Jenna. “He wasn’t that bad. Just a misunderstanding, I guess.”

Despite her annoying tendency toward gossip, Jenna had always liked the red headed woman. They’d been friendly in high school though Jenna had mostly kept to herself with a book and Laurel had kept to herself because—well, Jenna didn’t really know. She’d always been a bit of a knock out and yet she’d studiously avoided all the other pretty people back then—jocks and cheerleaders—choosing instead to eat alone at lunch when she wasn’t helping in the kitchen.

Glancing behind her, Jenna took note of the three or four people who’d come in behind her. “I guess you’re too busy to talk about it but let me know if you want me to, like, break his leg or something okay? I know people,” Jenna winked as she turned to leave.

As she climbed back into Jeep, Jenna opened the bag and pulled out the raspberry pastry first, looking it over appreciatively before taking a large bite. Moaning with the joy in it, she sat in her Jeep and finished the pastry before letting the insanity of the morning invade her. The sugar and tart fruit soothed her and when she was done, she decided she didn’t really care if her sister was shacking up with strangers or if her mother had lost her mind. Hell, the idea of her brother being a jackass wasn’t a new one, either, so why let it get to her?

As for her own personal demon, well, she’d worry about Aiden later.

Episode 16

Author's Note: Again, sorry for the long delay between posts. Hopefully this extra long one will make up for it a little. If you're still checking in, that is.

Laurel didn’t allow herself a lot of creature comforts. Starting up her own bakery from the ground up had taken nearly every cent she’d saved over the past several years and while her business was steady and profits were decent, she wouldn’t consider herself in the black until she was able to fully pay back the small business loan she’d had to take out. Two things she did allow herself, though, were good quality shoes since she was on her feet all day and luxury sleepwear—silk pajamas, lacy nightgowns, plush slippers and satiny robes—that kind of thing.

The shoes might have saved her feet from another day of torture, but the silk tank and pajamas shorts she’d put on weren’t saving her bruised feelings at all. What she needed, she decided, was chocolate and lots of it. But Laurel didn’t keep chocolate in her home and she was wont to ever cave into emotional eating again. Having struggled most of her life with a weight problem as a direct result of such behavior, she knew better.

But oh, it had been a long while since she’d felt this low. Publicly humiliated was bad enough. But his insinuations—she hadn’t been imagining them, had she? He’d implied an interest in her.

Hadn’t he?  

“I could cheerfully beat the everlovin’ tar outta you, Jack Steely,” she muttered.

Truth was, it had been so long since she’d had any sort of romantic notions thrown at her from the opposite sex, she couldn’t be sure. She may have very well been imagining things. Or wishful thinking, more likely.

Pacing to the kitchen, she opened her cabinets to view the contents only to come away even more frustrated than before she’d bothered to look.

Slamming the cabinet doors shut, she groaned and sank onto a chair at her kitchen table. Cradling her head in her hands, she let her red hair cover her face as though she could hide from herself.

“I’m so completely stupid,” she confessed to her silent apartment. “I mean, I know he’s somewhat of a rake.  I’d be completely insane to think he wanted anything real from me. He’s sampled half the women in town for heaven’s sake.”

But bemoaning his womanizing ways out loud didn’t assuage the sting she still felt from his abrupt departure. Dammit, she hadn’t said anything to run him off. She’d been in the middle of devouring that lovely steak when he tripped all over himself to get away.

“He’s just a rat,” she muttered and pushed up from the table. “A stinky, mean, deliciously sexy rat.”

This is good, she thought as she paced angrily around the room. Working up a head full of steam and getting angry was a far cry better than moping and moaning and tearing herself to shreds. She wasn’t at fault here and she didn’t deserve any self recriminations this time.

For once she’d been the kind of woman she’d always wished she could be. Not gossipy or catty. She’d been nice, dammit, even though she could have been a real bitch and taunted his mother’s new roommate in his face.

Worse, she’d been hopeful.

While hopefulness might make her foolish, she hadn’t deserved to be discarded and humiliated so thoroughly. That was all on Jake, the bastard.

Plucking a throw pillow from the couch, she pressed it to her face and yelled an angry scream into it before tossing it heartily at the wall. The sudden pounding from her door in the midst of her fit made her yelp.

Whirling to face the door, she clutched the fabric of her low cut tank top and scowled. Who on earth could that be? She wondered as she crept to the door. Whoever it was pounded even harder a second time just as she leaned toward the peephole and she jumped again.

Biting her lip, she leaned in again and peered through the peephole . “Crap,” she muttered when she realized who it was.

“Open up Laurel,” Jack barked. He rattled the doorknob and pounded again. “Dammit, Laurel, are you alright?”

“Go away, Jack,” she yelled, one hand pressed against her pounding heart and the other gripping the doorknob he was still jiggling.

“I heard a muffled scream. Is someone in there? Are you okay?”

Laurel slipped the chain on the door before unlocking gingerly opening it enough to peek out. “I’m fine, Jack. But I really don’t want to see you right now. Go away.”

“The hell I will,” he growled and pressed at the door. “Let me in.”

Backing up slightly, half fearing he might barge right through the chain, Laurel gripped the doorknob as though her life depended on it. And judging by the glitter of wildness in his eyes it just might. “Don’t make me call the cops on you, Jack Steely,” she bluffed.

He scoffed at the notion and tested his weight against the door. “Don’t make me break the chain on this door. I’d hate to have to replace it later.”

No doubt he’d do it, too, she grimaced. “What do you want, Jack? You were perfectly clear how done you were with me when you bolted from the table at supper as though I’d just sprouted a second head.”

“I did not bolt,” he gritted and paced away from the door, his hands shoveling through his already messy hair.

“You bolted so fast you nearly broke the sound barrier. You can’t possibly have anything to say to me.”

Stopping mid-pace, Jake strode back to her door and pressed as close to the small opening as he could. “Oh I have plenty to say to you, Laurel Hathaway. But I’m not saying it through the crack in this door. So open up or I will tear it down. You’ve got to the count of three. One.” He counted and Laurel gulped.

He couldn’t be serious. What could he have to say to her that would inspire brute force?

“Two.”

“Honestly, Jack. I’ll call the cops.”

“Three.”

He moved away from the door a bit, a steely glint of determination in his eye and Laurel scrabbled for the door. “Okay, okay, fine.”

Closing it enough to slide the chain off, Laurel swung the door open with a flourish and swept her arm out with exaggerated invitation.  “Please come in, Jack.”

He grinned and swaggered into her living room as though he owned the place. She watched as he surveyed the open set of rooms, taking in the tidy kitchen and little table before studying the small living space. He strode purposefully to the bedroom door and peered in, going so far as to check her closet.

“Honest to Pete, Jack, what the heck are you doing?”

Exiting her bedroom, he gave her a silencing glare before checking behind the shower curtain in her bathroom.

“Just checking. The muffled scream I mentioned? I know I didn’t imagine that.”

Her eyes flickering to the pillow that lay limply on the living room floor, Laurel gave a shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jack. I’m fine. The only intruder in my home is you and the spider that’s taken up residence beneath my refrigerator.

Lifting an eyebrow at her, Jack turned again to survey the room. She couldn’t help but wonder what he saw when he looked at her home. She’d never really had any guests in here before. The whole lacking friends thing wasn’t exactly conducive to entertaining in her home.

When he finally turned back to face her, his eyes traveled the length of her body, his breath hitching with each inch and with a squeak she realized that she was standing rather scantily clad in front of a very virile manly male.

Darting quickly to her room, she berated herself quite heartily for her foolishness. Not that she had anything he hadn’t seen a hundred times before, she snorted. Pulling on a long black silk robe, she yelped when she turned to find that he’d followed her and stood at the entrance to her room.

He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his impressively built chest and his lips quirked into a sexy grin. “Don’t cover up on my behalf. I find the scenery around here very appealing, actually.”

Wrinkling her nose at him, she tightened the belt at her waist. “Of course you do.”

With a  shrug, he pushed away from the jamb and retreated to the living space. Following him, she paused at the tiny dining table and studied him. She’d have thought his sheer and utterly impressive manliness would make her tiny living space appear that much smaller. Claustrophobic, even.  Instead, he made the place feel cozy and warm.

And if she weren’t so damn mad at him, she might even like his presence there.

“What do you want?” she asked. Her voice came out a lot huskier than she’d intended. By the lift of his brow, she realized he’d noticed it, too.

“I came to return something to you.”

“Did I forget something at Steely J’s? You could have had someone call me.”

He dug something out of his pocket as he strode toward her. Taking her by the wrist, he lifted her arm so that her palm was facing upward and pressed whatever it was into her hand.

When he released her, Laurel felt her blood rush to her head when she realized it was the money she’d left at their table.

“I generally like to get the check when I dine with a pretty lady.”

Swallowing at the implication that their half eaten meal might have served as some sort of date, Laurel clutched the bills as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Maybe if you’d actually stuck around to finish the meal, I’d have realized. But since you hot footed it out of there before the steaks had even stopped sizzling I figured I’d pay my own way.”

“I did not—“

Holding up a hand, Laurel shook her head. She wasn’t going to argue with him. It would serve no purpose. She just wanted him gone.

“Fine, Jack. Thanks for returning the money. You can go now.”

“Dammit, Laurel would you just put your hackles down for two damn minutes?” He shoved his hands through his hair and paced around the room. “I didn’t bolt. Not the way you mean, anyway.”

“Okay then, you left in a hurry. You had someplace to be. Whatever. Goodnight, Jack. Thanks for stopping by.”

He stopped pacing and stood staring at her, his mouth in a thin grim line. “Why didn’t you tell me about my mother?”

Well crap. So it wasn’t even some misguided sense of chivalry that had had him threatening to bust through her door. He wanted the scoop. But worse, he wanted to be all pissy with her about it because he knew she’d known and hadn’t told him. And if she had told him, he’d have been all pissy with her for spreading gossip about his mother.

Just. Freaking. Great.

“Get out.”

“Laurel—“

“I’ve had it with you, Jack. I may usually be ten kinds of awful and a touch stupid but I am through with this. And I’m through with you. If you want to know something about your mother then ask her. But leave me out of it.”

“You are not ten kinds of awful and you’re certainly not any kind of stupid,” he breathed, pacing toward her.

Backing away from him, she shook her head. “Go away, Jack. Leave. Now.”

He studied her for several torturous moments. Long, painful moments of trying oh-so-hard not to cry in front of him. Finally, he nodded but didn’t move.

“Fine. I’ll go. But just tell me. Why didn’t you mention it at supper? I know you knew. You had to.”

“Why? Because I’m the town gossip and know everything?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

Oh cripes. Should she be honest and tell him the truth? Or lie through her teeth? Honesty would make her even more vulnerable to him than she already was but hell if the thought of lying to the son of a biscuit didn’t leave a bad taste in her mouth.

“Honestly? In this instance I figured it might be best to come from her than me. But really Jack, whatever you’ve heard, it’s really not at all sordid.” That she still felt the need to protect him after everything he’d put her through made her want to kick something.

“Thank you.”

She watched half angry and half sad as he turned and quietly left. As the door clicked softly shut behind him, she tossed the wadded up bills on the table and sank limply into a chair. Resting her head on the tabletop, she let the tears leak from her eyes.

Eep!

This week has been crazy with a capital K.  Sorry for the long cliff hanger. Next week *fingers crossed* will be better. I'll try to post twice next week.

Episode 15

Author's note warning:Due to some lack of sufficient sleep last night, my brain's been in a fog all morning. Perfect time to write, right? Nevertheless, write, I did. So if this episode sucks or makes no sense, pretend you never saw it. Got it? ;-)

The kitchen door swung noisily behind him as Jack charged into the kitchen, hands shoved in his hair and heart thumping in his chest. He cursed as he paced to the refrigerator to pull a cold bottle of beer from its depths.

What had just happened? What was he doing? Damn it.

Struggling with the bottle top, he cursed out loud when he failed to open it. It was only when a slender hand removed the bottle from his grip that he noticed the small crowd of people gaping at him from their respective stations. They all hurried back to their work when he caught them staring.

Looking up, he realized it was Amrys who’d taken the beer from him. She smoothly uncapped the bottle with the bottle opener that had been magnetized to the fridge, took a sip and handed the bottle back to him.

“So I suppose this means she told you about Mama,” she drolled smoothly as she hopped up onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen prep island.

Momentarily confused, Jack swilled from the bottle and tried to focus on his sister. His mind, however, was still latched onto the woman he’d unceremoniously left sitting with his half eaten steak. Stupid, he accused himself. But staying would have caused him to be really stupid. Stupid as in, waking up next to her tomorrow, stupid.

Jack enjoyed his fair share of women but only with those who knew the score. Laurel was not one of them. But she was tempting, nonetheless. Even giving into the mere temptation of  simply dining with her had been a stupid move. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed it plenty. Too much.

As his heart rate gradually slowed and his mind began to clear, what Amrys had said began to sink in.

“Mama? What about her? Tell me what?”

Amrys looked up from the plate of fries she’d been nibbling from, her brow creased. “She didn’t tell you? Then what are you so steamed up about? What viciousness is she spouting? Something else about Jenna and Aiden? You shoulda never—“

Holding up a hand to silence his sister, Jack took another gulp of his beer, annoyed and surprised to find the bottle empty. Resisting the urge to slam it on the counter, he narrowed his eyes at his sister. “Laurel is never vicious and you know it. There’s always a grain of truth in what she tells. Now what could she have told me about Mama?”

Amrys dipped a fry in honey mustard sauce and stared at him, her green eyes boring holes in him. “You like her, don’t you?”

Pulse picking up speed again, Jack reached for the bottle he’d just set down and set it back down when he remembered it was empty. “I do not. And you’re avoiding the subject. What. About. Mama?”

Instead of answering, she raised her hands in mock praise and shouted, “God bless America, Jack Steely likes a girl!”

Slapping at her hands, he hissed, “Would you shut up Mrs. Nathan Matthews.”

Dropping her hands, she glared at him a moment before tossing a french fry at his head. It landed square in the center of his forehead and bounced off to the floor.

“You’re cleaning that up,” he informed her and earned a  view of her tongue. “Very mature. So are you gonna tell me what it is you thought she’d  have told me about Mama or not? Do I need to go kicking ass and taking names?”

Amrys shrugged with a small grin. “Depends. How’d your ass kicking of Aiden go this morning?”

“Would you quit being a jerk and tell me what you think you know about Mama?”

“That well, huh? I see he spared your face at least. He always was a stand up guy.”

Groaning his frustration, he snatched up the errant fry and tossed it back to his sister. It landed on her nose and slid down the ‘v’ of her sparkly dress.

“You never did tell me why you’re all dressed up. Hoping Nathan would stop by, see you all gussied up and decide to finally pull his head out of his ass?”

Amrys glared at him and turned on her stool so that her back was to him. Hell, who needs this?

“Finn?” he called to the cook who was busy slathering a plate of ribs with sauce. “You have any idea what she was talking about?”

Never even looking up from his task, the old man shrugged. “Not a clue. Unless she was talkin’ ‘bout your mama shackin’ up with the new Wild Acres hand. Order up!” he shouted and slid the plate of ribs and slaw across the delivery station.

“Wait, what? Shackin’ up with who?”

Finn shrugged and began working on the next plate.

Dammit.

No better place to find out what he needed to know than to go straight to the source, he thought grimly and stalked back out to the bar to table he’d left moments earlier. But Laurel was gone. Her barely eaten steak sat sadly across the table from his and handful of bills littered the space in between.

Dammit all to hell, he wanted to shout.  Snatching the bills in his hand, he gripped his phone and called the kitchen. When one of the busboys answered, he barked, “I’m stepping out for a few. Tell Amrys she’s in charge until I get back.”