Chapter 7

“There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”

— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume I, Chapter Thirteen

Sunday morning, Dad shocked us by abandoning his yoga mat in the middle of one of Deepak’s meditation tapes, which he played at the “jackhammer” volume setting, to join Mom and me at breakfast. When he sat down at the kitchen table, Mom almost spat out the side of bacon she’d just inhaled with her half-dozen eggs.

“What’s for dinner tonight, dear?” Dad glanced at Mom while I looked wide-eyed at both of them. Dinner at our house usually meant takeout or cold cereal, since both Mom and Dad hated to cook and food poisoning wasn’t exactly a rare event. “We’ll be having a guest.”

“Oh?” Mom swallowed hard, choking when something lodged in her throat. “What haven’t you told me this time?”

“An interesting young man will be joining us.” Dad’s eyes twinkled, but Mom’s were practically on fire.

“Charlie? I keep telling Jane I don’t want—”

Dad held up a hand. “It’s not Charlie.”

As I kept chomping on my Lucky Charms, Mom peppered Dad with questions until he finally explained. “I got an email from a very distant cousin, so many times removed that he might be equally related to this bowl of oatmeal.”

Mom and I stared at Dad’s oatmeal, transfixed.

Dad continued. “He has a son, Bill Cooper, and is hoping for a little nepotism.”

I frowned. “Can you even afford an employee?”

“I’m crushed to know you think so little of my work, Lizzie.” Dad touched my hand, but I bit my lip and looked away. I’d never slammed his yoga crap, at least not to his face, even though I wondered how Mom and Dad could afford to pay for college for five girls. Or if they intended to. “Lizzie. Really. My reputation is growing in the spiritual community, so it only makes sense that I start to gain more followers.”

Mom slapped a hand on the table, rattling the silverware. “What an awful young man. As if he can waltz in and steal the yoga mat from right under your feet.”

“He’s not going to steal anyone’s yoga mat.” Dad shook his head at Mom, as if what she’d said was ridiculous, but for once I was with Mom. Skeptical. “Bill is Lizzie’s age, I think, and just wants a little experience in the real world.”

Oh? He wouldn’t find much real-world experience on a yoga mat, unless we’re talking about the reality of not being able to afford anything.

Dad chuckled as he pulled an email printout from his pocket and skimmed it, but he tucked it away again before Mom could leap out of her chair to read over his shoulder. “He graduated last spring from the Sharmon School for Boys—”

I nearly choked on my Lucky Charms. “The Sharmon School? Isn’t that the boarding school for out-of-control boys? As in, guys who are lucky they’re not in jail? And he’s coming here for dinner? Mom, hide the silverware.”

Mom’s brows shot up. “Howard? Is that right? Should I hide my purse, too?”

Dad rolled his eyes.

“Why are you telling me today, Howard? How long have you known about this?”

Dad glanced at me, his eyebrows dancing. “I didn’t want to give Lizzie too much advance notice. This way, she’s stuck with the seven-day waiting period to buy a handgun.”

“Ha. Ha. You’re not seriously hiring him at your center, are you? You don’t even know him.”

“Well, none of my daughters is interested in what I do...”

I jerked to my feet and tossed my napkin on the table. “I used to be, Dad. When you were an engineer. It’s why I chose my major, not that anyone gives a rat’s ass.” I blinked, willing the traitorous tear in my right eye not to fall, and wondered why I’d followed Dad’s path. I might as well buy a yoga mat.

Dad frowned at me. A first. “Sit down, Lizzie.”

Arms crossed, I stayed standing.

Mom spoke as she kept chewing her mountain of eggs. “So he’s interested in your yoga center. But you’re always doing these things at the last minute, or telling me at the last minute, when I don’t even have enough time to Google him.”

Dad nodded. “My point exactly.”

The doorbell rang at four. Bill Cooper.

Oh. My. God.

He might be my age, but he looked about fourteen, right down to the zits and greasy hair. He was also a bit porky, with baggy pants that hung halfway down his butt, a leather vest that reminded me of Greg Brady, and wire-rimmed glasses that looked more like Jan Brady.

It’s not my fault that my mom owns every single season of The Brady Bunch on TV.

I figured he’d never looked in a mirror, though, because he swaggered into the living room like he owned it. Jane glanced up from Beowolf, scrunched her nose, and went back to reading. Lydia and Cat giggled and made faces. Mary just looked curious, like she’d never seen a guy up close before, but even Mary could do better than Bill. He glanced around the living room at the five of us girls, practically drooling. Ick.

Then he started talking about Dad’s yoga center, but I had a feeling he didn’t know a downward dog from a pit bull. “I can’t wait to find out what Howard’s work entails.”

I frowned. “Where are you staying?”

“Here?” Bill flicked a surprised glance at Dad, who was reading the paper. “My dad said it’d be okay if I stayed with you.”

“Like, for dinner?”

“Liz, your manners!” Mom slid to the edge of her seat, ready to strangle me.

“It’s cool, Mrs. Bennet. Connie.” Bill looked around the room, his eyes lingering on Jane. Right. Like she’d give him a second glance. “Dad first set me up in Dubuque with a guy he used to know, but I wasn’t into Dubuque. So he sent me to Fargo to stay with Olivia Parks.” He paused on her name, like we ought to know her, but even Mom’s face was blank. “But it’s not exactly easy to find the right, uh, set-up for my particular skills, so Mrs. Parks suggested you to my dad.”

He didn’t look like he had any particular skills, unless grand theft auto counted as a skill.

I’d wondered why Bill’s dad kept pawning him off on strangers, but it was becoming obvious. “Where does your dad live? Why don’t you live with him?”

“Liz...” Mom again. Dad wasn’t saying anything.

Bill glanced up at the ceiling. “My dad isn’t, you know, super available.”

His dad might be the one in prison for grand theft auto.

“Anyway.” Totally ignoring me now, Bill gave Mom an aw-shucks grin after first trying it on Dad, but Dad buried his head in the newspaper. “Mrs. Parks told me it’d be great to work with Howard. And we’re, like, family. Sorta.”

Was he really staying with us? And for how long? I gave him twenty-four hours, tops. Less than that if we let either Lydia or Mary loose on him.

Before I could make it happen, we sat down to Mom’s baked chicken. As in, baked by the people behind the deli counter at Kowalski’s, Mom’s fave grocery store. Watching Bill shovel a constant stream of food into his mouth, I figured he hadn’t eaten in a month. After a while, I couldn’t look.

The minute Cat and Lydia cleared the dessert plates, Dad cleared his throat. “Bill, what did you think of Fargo?”

“It’s okay.” Bill chuckled, in a fake sort of way. “I mean, except for the dating scene.”

He winked at Jane, who glared at me when I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. I kept picturing a porky Greg Brady wearing Jan Brady’s glasses while trying to hit on the prom queen.

After an awkward pause, Bill turned back to Mom. “But it was a good set-up. Mrs. Parks owns this huge house and has a daughter. Veronica.”

I wondered why Bill wasn’t still at Mrs. Parks’s house, hitting on the rich daughter, instead of here wolfing down our food and trying to get a job in a stranger’s yoga center.

“Didn’t Veronica make the cut on the dating scene? Or aren’t you her type?”

“Liz!” As Mom fumed, I gave Jane a sideways grin.

Still, maybe that was why Mrs. Parks found a new gig for Bill. He hit on Veronica and it didn’t work out?

He slid me a patronizing smile. “She’s a little young for me. Veronica is fun, though. She finds school exhausting—” I tried not to roll my eyes, I swear I did. “—so she spends most of her time shopping. She has great taste.”

“No doubt.” My dad coughed into his napkin, probably trying not to think about having five daughters who’d love to spend all their time shopping. On his credit card. “Too bad it didn’t work out with Mrs. Parks. But I’m sure the right, er, set-up will come along for you.”

Bill shrugged. “Maybe it already has.” Giving up on Jane for the moment, he turned and gave Lydia a sly grin.

Lydia made a gagging sound.

Finally, we left the table and headed to the living room. Lydia and Cat picked up a smuggled-in copy of the National Enquirer and grabbed the couch. Bill sauntered over and tried to sit between them, but Lydia gave him a swift kick, sending him to the floor.

So far, the dating scene in Woodbury wasn’t looking any brighter for Bill than it’d been in Fargo. Even though he’s such a wild guy. Not.

I kept wondering why Dad let this dork in our house. With our luck, Bill is a scam artist who wants a job and a place to stay, if not all the cash and jewelry he can nab while Mom and Dad aren’t looking. Dad wouldn’t fall for that, would he?

Lydia sent the National Enquirer flying at Bill’s head. “Did you know, Mom, that Phil Donnelly met some of the circus guys who are staying in town? He did some legal work for them.” Probably not a good thing to hear, since Phil, Mom’s law partner and a close friend, specializes in criminal defense.

As Bill brushed the National Enquirer off his head, I frowned at Lydia, even though I wouldn’t mind throwing something at Bill’s head, too. She stuck out her tongue at me.

“Not to worry.” Bill gave a long-suffering look, which was exactly how I felt. About him. “Young girls don’t always—”

“I’m not that young!” Lydia stamped her foot.

“A baby!” I couldn’t resist throwing in the dig, even though Mom left her chair and stood in front of me, hands on her hips, ready to slug me.

I winked at Mom as she shook a finger at me. It disarmed her, amazingly enough, and luckily Mom doesn’t hold a grudge. Usually. Within a few minutes, Dad and Bill pulled out the cribbage board and settled in for a game. One by one, the rest of us made our escape.

As I headed upstairs, though, I wondered how long our escape from Wild Bill Cooper would be.

Wild Bill stayed with us. And stayed. It felt like months, even if we were only two days into it.

He went to Dad’s yoga center every morning, and every evening he blathered nonstop about himself. I called it Everything You Never Wanted to Know and Never Asked, but he tended to shy away from details. He seemed pretty focused on worming his way into Dad’s yoga center and slobbering all over Dad’s daughters.

I hoped I wouldn’t have to get rabies shots.

Ever since late afternoon today, when Jane and I dragged ourselves home from school, he’d been staring at Jane with a goofy grin on his face. When Jane finally got up and left the living room, Bill pulled a chair close to Mom’s and whispered something to her.

She practically jumped in her seat. “Jane? Er, well, I’m sorry, but she’s far too old for you.”

As in, a year too old? I snorted. “Not to mention she’s dating Charlie.”

Mom frowned at me over her reading glasses. “Jane is not dating Charlie. I told her not to.”

Jane was probably in the hall, trying not to pee in her pants, and Mom’s comment didn’t exactly bring her back to the living room. Whatever. If living in a world of delusion made Mom happier, I figured that was her issue as long as she didn’t volunteer me for Bill’s girl-of-the-week club.

Suddenly, Bill leaped up and landed on the couch next to me. Crap. He must’ve studied his other victims and chose me over three complete twits, but even the stupidest guy in the world would do that.

I don’t know why that made me think of Alex.

I sprang off the couch, flinging a pillow at his face, just as Mom mentioned she’d planned to make hockey pucks—er, hamburgers—for dinner. Unfortunately, even Bill had learned enough in forty-eight hours to know when to vacate the house, and he joined the mad rush of people racing to make excuses to Mom and throw on coats.

Jane reappeared and Mary claimed she had to study, so five of us squeezed into the Jeep. I drove up and down a million streets, since no one could agree on fast food we all liked, but we weren’t going to wind up at a circus tent. Despite Lydia. Every time she saw another circus performer on the street, she punched my shoulder until I slammed on the brakes.

Suddenly she screamed in my ear and grabbed my shoulders, slamming me against the steering wheel. “Liz, stop! Isn’t that Rocco Molinari across the street? Who’s he with? Look at him, Cat. Isn’t he hot?”

I slowed to a stop even before I spotted the guy Lydia was pointing at. Dark, curly hair, slim, athletic. Mmmm. Almost made me want to run away with the circus.

Lydia and Cat flung open the back doors of the Jeep and flew across the street. So much for subtle. I glanced at Jane, who shrugged, so she and Bill and I joined the group on the sidewalk. Lydia and Cat were chatting up Rocco, who introduced himself and his friend, Justin Truesdale. Definitely hot.

Justin told us he’d just joined the circus troupe yesterday after leaving one on the West Coast last week. Right in front of him, Lydia and Cat went nuts about the circus getting such a great guy. I didn’t nod or act like a dipwad, but I had to agree. It didn’t hurt that Justin kept glancing at me, totally checking me out and not Jane. When it came to guys, that had to be a first.

Before I could actually talk to him, though, Rocco claimed they had to go somewhere else. Great. We lost two cute guys and kept Wild Bill. Talk about a letdown.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of pizza and circus gossip. Even though I swear I didn’t gush over Justin—or not much, anyway—for once in my life, I listened as Lydia and Cat brainstormed crazy ways to try to meet up with Justin again. Maybe with some other circus guys. Maybe over dinner, but not at our house. Ew.

Justin Truesdale. Wow. Why should I spend my time worrying about Jane and Charlie when a guy like this was in town?

Wednesday night, Mom and Dad had to go to some legal shindig in St. Paul, so Lydia called Rocco and told him to bring Justin to our house for takeout Chinese, but she didn’t do the math and invite enough circus guys to make the numbers even. I couldn’t help picturing how bored my sisters would be when Justin spent all evening with me, leaving them stuck with Wild Bill and, okay, Rocco.

Which was pretty much what happened.

Justin was every bit as hot as I remembered, even better without a heavy jacket. Slim hips and long legs and a cute butt, with a face that stopped short of being too pretty. Like Liam Hemsworth in The Hunger Games.We chatted and munched on eggrolls. Justin flirted with me, more and more, and I started to wonder how he kisses. My gaze kept straying to his lips, and— Yikes. He looked at mine!

We ate dinner in the kitchen, and Justin grabbed the chair next to me. I could swear his leg brushed against mine a few times, not accidentally, and then he started playing footsie. I didn’t know what to do, so I played footsie, too. Just to be polite, you know? Of course, right when I started to really get into it, I heard something disturbing.

Meow.

My head shot under the table. Sure enough, my sister Mary’s cat, Boris, was at my feet. Playing footsie, and apparently getting a big rush out of it.

Talk about embarrassment. Thank God Justin had no idea. But his hand crept under the napkin on my lap, pressed against my thigh, and stayed there. I tried not to faint.

God. I wasn’t that obvious, was I? Like Lydia? Across the table, Bill kept staring at me and making weird comments that included the word “Liz,” but I kept my eye on my plate. And on Justin. I have no idea what I ate for dinner.

Or if I ate.

After dinner, we headed to the living room. I sat on the couch next to Justin, but a moment later Lydia plopped down on the other side of him, practically on his lap, then started whispering and giggling in Justin’s ear. Pissed, I got up, ready to move to a new location and a new team. I mean, I’m not going to compete with Lydia, of all people. She’s a child. If a guy can’t see that, I don’t have time for him.

Next thing I knew, Lydia flew off Justin’s lap and landed on the floor. Smart boy, that Justin.

As Lydia rubbed her butt and slinked off to pester Rocco, I sat down again next to Justin. This time, a few inches farther away. I didn’t want to look easy, and I wasn’t sure I forgave him for letting Lydia hit on him.

He closed the gap between us with a quick scoot of his butt.

Okay. Fine. I gave in.

Justin draped his arm over the back of the couch, sending tingles down my spine, but the tingles stopped when he started talking. “So...Rocco says you know Charlie Bingham?”

He wanted to talk about Charlie? I shrugged, trying not to pout, then nodded at Jane, whose ears had pricked at the sound of Charlie’s name. “Jane knows him pretty well.”

“So I hear.” Justin grinned, cute dimples and all. “His computer games are amazing.”

“I guess.” Less amazing was that I had a hot guy on the couch next to me, and all he cared about was Charlie and his computer games. Story of my life. I sighed, my mind drifting to Alex. Was he the Darcy of The Book and my nightmares? Or was he just a guy named Darcy whose friend happened to be named Bingham, not Bingley? Since Alex hardly talked to me, let alone fondled my thigh during dinner, I wondered why I kept trying so hard to fight fate.

Alex was too busy being groped by Stephanie to even think about fate.

Trying to distract myself from stupid thoughts about Alex, I moved closer to Justin, but I suddenly realized I was pressed against him. In the gauzy yellow top I’d worn tonight, my boobs were a bit more noticeable than usual.

Justin glanced down at them. Yep, he definitely noticed.

Closing my eyes, I reminded myself I wasn’t easy. Okay, I’d been the one who picked out the top and the sheer cotton bra to wear under it. In November. But still.

I opened my eyes to find Justin grinning. His eyebrows danced. “Hey. I’m not complaining.”

“I’ll bet.” After a moment, I laughed too. I mean, Justin was cute and didn’t exactly mind looking at me. Give the guy a few points for honesty—and, well, interest.

He touched my hand. Lightly. Sweetly. “I’m also not complaining about meeting you.”

I tried not to blush as I scrounged for a safer topic of conversation. I didn’t think he’d want to talk about Liam Hemsworth all night.

“Do you like working in the circus?” Even as I said it, my nose twitched at the thought of Justin spending his life with the circus. Was it because of my disappointment with Dad’s midlife yoga crisis, or was I a snob?

Justin glanced at Rocco, who was across the room flirting with Lydia and Cat. “It works. For now.”

He smiled but didn’t exactly look happy. Why didn’t he do something else? Or go to college? I felt drawn to him, though, or maybe just to something wistful in his voice when he talked about the circus, which might be why I moved closer. At this point, I was practically on his lap, which wasn’t like me. Especially not in front of a crowd.

Justin started playing with my fingers. When he gazed into my eyes, I could barely hear what he said, what with my heart pounding so hard. “I’d really like to spend more time with you. Alone.”

As in, talking? Dating? Or something else? I tingled inside even as I wondered why everything was moving so fast. Still, Justin seemed sincere. He has the sort of face that just can’t lie. It’s that Liam Hemsworth thing. Liam wouldn’t lie to you.

Before I could say anything, the party started to break up. Justin helped me to my feet just as Wild Bill trotted across the room toward us. Talk about bad luck. Bill started flirting with me, even though I was obviously with Justin.

When Bill paused for a breath, Justin leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Am I keeping you from this guy?”

I whispered back, even though it was rude. “As if.”

Justin’s lips were touching my ear now. Talk about sexy. “So you’d like to be rescued?”

I brushed my own lips against the edge of Justin’s ear, feeling wicked. “Yesterday.”

He grabbed my elbow and led me away. Next thing I knew, he was dragging me toward the front hall closet, saying something out loud about grabbing his coat. He pulled me into the coat closet and ran his arms around my waist. In an instant, Justin’s lips were on mine, then on my neck. It felt...great.

Before I knew what was happening, his hands moved underneath my top, then—as I gasped—sneaked under my bra. I tried to ignore the warning bells that started clanging in my head. For once in my life, I didn’t want to think at all. As someone called my name, Justin’s hands kept moving until I felt a slight tug on the button of my jeans.

Oh. My. God. What was he doing? Here in a closet? When I barely knew him? Suddenly tense, I froze, then balled my hands into fists at my sides. Did I seem like the type of girl who would do it in a closet? Or anywhere with a guy I’d just met? Okay, so I’d stupidly gone into the closet with Justin, but it didn’t make me easy. Or desperate. The truth was, I wasn’t. Like, not at all. When his fingers touched the waistband on my undies, I pushed hard against his chest.

“No. I don’t—”

In an instant, he rebuttoned my jeans and his mouth planted a quick kiss on my lips.

Several voices were calling “Liz!” now. I had no idea how on earth I was going to get out of this closet without being skinned alive by my sisters, not to mention Wild Bill, whose voice seemed to be the loudest of all. But I was so rattled, I couldn’t think. “This was a really bad idea.”

Chuckling, Justin gave me a final squeeze. Then he grabbed his jacket, whispered “Trust me,” and tucked me behind my mom’s ancient full-length fur coat.

I heard the closet door shut, heard Justin tell someone I’d gone out the back door to the patio. A clatter of footsteps stampeded to the back of the house, and the sliding-glass door opened. I pushed aside Mom’s ratty old fur, checked my clothing, and slipped out of the closet to an empty hallway.

Justin. My savior. My...too-hot-to-handle new love?