MONDAY dragged. Tuesday, too.
Tristan had a story due, but seeing Jayne was the only thing on his mind. A phone conversation with Grace had appeased her concerns, but talking about the lovely Jayne and thinking about they day they’d spent together only added to his impatience.
When their date on Tuesday finally arrived, he sat across from her at the patio table in her backyard. She looked hot in her lime-green T-shirt. The stretchy fabric accentuated her breasts. A great view, but if he didn’t stop admiring her he would lose. Again.
Tristan focused on his Sudoku puzzle. Numbers from one to nine filled many of the boxes. Only a few more to go. Jayne was smart and fast, but he would not lose this time.
“Finished,” she said.
No way. He glanced at his watch. Six and a half minutes. He set his pen on the table. “You are the Sudoku Master.”
She bit her lip. “Do you want to play again?”
“You won three out five games.”
“We can make it even,” she suggested.
“Or you could beat me again,” he countered.
“But I wouldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
She stared down at her puzzle.
“You would let me win?” he guessed, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice.
A charming pink colored her cheeks. “It’s just a game.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, sometimes it’s easier if the other person doesn’t like to lose.”
“You mean Rich.”
Her cheeks turned even redder. “He liked winning.”
“So do I. But I can still be a good sport if I lose.”
The doubt in Jayne’s eyes told Tristan she didn’t believe him. No matter what he said or did, when she looked at him she must see Rich. Changing that opinion might take time. Time he really didn’t have with a new assignment coming up.
The setting sun provided the perfect backdrop to her dark shiny hair. A golden aura, almost like a halo, surrounded her. She reminded him of an angel—one who needed to learn to use her wings. He might not have the time, but he wasn’t ready to give up on her yet.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“You don’t have to apologize for being good at something, especially after that amazing dinner.”
“I made the lasagna. The bread came from the bakery and the salad from the garden.” She narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from curving upward. “But if you think flattery will get you out of buying the ice cream tonight, think again.”
He grinned, more at ease than he could remember being in a long time. Maybe being her roommate wasn’t such a crazy idea.
What was he? Nuts? Even if she had a change of heart, he could never live with her. The separate bedrooms clause was a total deal-breaker for him. “Hey, a guy’s gotta try.”
That was his problem. Even though he knew Jayne was his best friend’s ex-fiancée, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to be with her himself.
She laughed.
The warm sound flowed through him, as if his blood were as thick as honey, and filled up all sorts of empty places he hadn’t known he had. Tristan had never felt anything like it, and he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. He shifted in his seat. “Seriously, though, I’m only giving compliments where they’re due.”
She blushed again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
With her pink-tinged cheeks and bright blue eyes she was more than another pretty face. Not many people put other’s feelings before their own the way Jayne did. Her sharp intellect kept him intrigued and entertained. And her honesty made him feel he could trust her even though they were still getting to know each other.
Rich had really screwed up letting Jayne get away.
His loss, Tristan’s gain?
Except he was looking for fun, a good time, not something serious. His job didn’t allow for that. Even if it did, he wasn’t looking to make a commitment. Now or in the future.
A dog yipped. The high-pitched sound made him think of the small, ankle-biter type.
“Quiet, Duke,” Jayne called to the fence.
The barking stopped.
“Sorry,” she said. “I usually take him for a walk after dinner. We’re starting a dog agility class on Thursday, so we’ve been practicing a little, too.”
He glanced toward the spot where the sound came from. Across the freshly mowed grass, next to the fence, was a small garden. “Is that where you got the salad from?”
She nodded. “I’ve been trying to make sure Molly’s hard work doesn’t go to waste. She used to spend so much time working out here.”
Little signs marked each of the neat, straight rows of what he assumed were vegetables. He didn’t know anything about gardening himself, but he liked eating what came from them. “So how’s it going?”
“Well, I did some yardwork when I was a kid, but never gardening, so I’ve been learning as I dig in the dirt, plant and prune. There’s been a bit of trial and error,” Jayne admitted, “but I haven’t killed anything yet. Molly will be happy when she sees it.”
“What about you? Does working in the garden make you happy, Jayne?”
Looking at the garden, she crinkled her nose until a satisfied smile settled on her lips. “Actually, I’m enjoying myself more than I thought I would.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s all about putting down roots,” he said. “That’s what you want, and you’re good at it.”
Girlfriend material, sure. Wife material, most definitely.
Tristan didn’t want either. So what in the hell was he doing here?
He picked up his glass of lemonade and drank. The tart sweetness matched his mood.
Jayne didn’t need a roommate. She needed a husband. Best to cut his losses and say goodbye.
“You know, I never thought about it like that,” she said.
Her features looked more animated. Too bad he didn’t have his camera out here. Though he probably had enough pictures of her to last a lifetime.
She continued. “I think you’re right.”
He’d bet a million dollars he was correct. He wished he were wrong.
She sipped her lemonade. He did the same, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood. A child’s squeal could be heard over a lawnmower. A woman called her family inside for dinner.
The noises were more foreign to him than gunfire, thanks to his being embedded with a unit in Afghanistan. He’d avoided this kind of life in the suburbs before. The life his ex-wife wanted. The life Jayne wanted.
I hope that happens someday.
Someday, she’d said. Not now.
Maybe he didn’t have to bolt out of here. She’d told him she wasn’t looking for a relationship at the moment. That could mean she would be up for something more…casual.
She set her glass on the table. “Do you garden?”
He rarely noticed landscaping unless it caught his eye for a possible photograph or food. “Digging in dirt doesn’t appeal to me.”
“Do you live in an apartment?”
“Hotel.”
Her mouth formed an o. “A hotel?”
Tristan thought of the mega-story steel and glass building—one of San Diego’s most luxurious hotels—he currently called home. At least until his next assignment came up. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Staying at hotels is easier than renting an apartment,” he said. “It gives me the flexibility I need with my travel schedule. Plus I can always move if I don’t like it or get bored.”
“So you don’t even want to commit to a six month lease?”
“I don’t like leaving a place empty for so long.”
“What about your stuff?” she asked.
“Stuff?” he asked.
“Books, CDs, computer, clothing, old report cards. You know…stuff,” she explained. “When I moved from my apartment into here I had so many boxes. Mementoes from when I was a kid. Things I never want to let go of.”
“Everything I own fits into a couple of plastic bins, so it’s easy to move from place to place.”
“I could never fit all my kitchen stuff in a couple of bins.” She sounded grateful for that. “I grew up moving around a lot. ‘Live light, move light,’ my father used to say. But a person needs to have some things that have meaning or hold memories for them.”
“I have those things,” Tristan said. “It just all fits into the bins.”
“So living out of a suitcase really works for you?”
“Yes.”
“But how do you know if you’re traveling or not?” she asked. “You’re never home if you live in a hotel.”
“The hotel is my home.”
“So you always go back to the same hotel? The same room?”
“Well, no…” Her reaction didn’t surprise him, but it did make him vaguely defensive. “My life makes sense for me. I travel too much to take care of a place. I’d just be wasting money paying for an empty apartment. This way I check in and out as need be.”
“If you had a roommate, your place wouldn’t be empty.”
He raised a brow. “Are you offering?”
“Just offering up the great suggestion you gave me,” she said. “Living at a hotel has to be really expensive.”
“I can afford it.”
“If you can afford the nightly rate at a hotel, then you can afford to buy a place.”
His ex-wife, Emma, had wanted to buy a house and have a baby before their first anniversary. Finally an adult and free from college at twenty-two, Tristan had wanted her to travel with him around the world while he took photographs. Hell, at thirty-two that still sounded like a good way to spend a year or two. “I’m not looking to make a thirty-year commitment to a mortgage anytime in the near future.”
“I’d hope not.” Jayne sounded aghast. “That would be a huge mistake.”
That didn’t sound like the domestically inclined, angelic homebody he’d come to know tonight. Intrigued, Tristan leaned toward her. “I’m surprised you agree with me.”
“Of course I agree with you. Who wouldn’t?” Lines creased her forehead, the way they did anytime she got serious about something. “You should never take out a thirty-year mortgage. Fifteen-year mortgages are the only ones that make financial sense these days.”
Tristan would have laughed except for the sincerity in her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings when she was trying to be helpful.
Surprisingly, he found this financially astute side of her utterly charming and totally appealing. He respected her dedication to her job and what she believed even, if it were the exact opposite of his thinking. “I’ll have to remember that if I ever buy a house.”
“Not if, when,” she said. “Seriously, Tristan, buying a condo or a townhouse and finding a roommate would be such a smart move right now with the current market conditions. You’ll build equity fast as the market rises again rather than throw your dollars away living at a hotel.”
She sure was tenacious when it came to money. He leaned back in his chair. “Home ownership just isn’t for me.”
“There are tax benefits.” She said the words as if she were dangling a cookie in front of him. “Why aren’t you taking advantage of the tax benefits?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You rent,” he pointed out.
“Well, yes. I like living in Molly’s bungalow,” Jayne said. “But I can’t wait to buy a house of my own.”
He thought about the house he’d grown up in, on the same street where Rich’s parents still lived, and the bigger one his parents lived in now. “Saving up for a big, splashy house with an ocean view?”
“No, a fixer-upper would be best.” Her eyes sparkled. “For as long as I can remember, through all the countries and different bases where I lived as a kid, I’ve dreamed about owning my own house. Putting down roots, as you said.”
The passion in her voice appealed to him on a gut level. Tristan didn’t want a house for himself, but he wanted Jayne to have one. “What’s stopping you?”
“There are a few things I need to do first.”
“Like what?”
“I need to save enough for a down payment and get married.”
Tristan did a double take. The down payment he understood. The marriage part, not so much.
He thought Jayne might be joking, but one look at the determined set of her jaw told him she wasn’t. Still, he needed to state the obvious. “You don’t have to be married to buy a house.”
“I know, but it just seems…I guess it seems like the easiest way.”
“Easier if you need two salaries to qualify for a mortgage,” he conceded. “But marital status shouldn’t stop anyone from buying a house. Lots of single women and men buy houses. Look at your friend who owns this place. She’s single. Or was single.”
“Molly and her ex-husband purchased this house when they were married. She bought Doug out when they divorced.”
“Bad example. But there are lots of other good ones out there,” Tristan said. “Maybe in our parents’ generation women waited. But you shouldn’t wait to buy a house if that’s what you want to do.”
“I’m not really that old-fashioned.” She sounded defensive. “But I guess I’ve always imagined things happening in a certain order in my life. Marriage comes before a house.”
“So this thing with Rich really messed with your plans, huh?”
She swallowed. Nodded.
Just because things with Rich didn’t work out doesn’t mean I can’t live happily ever after here in San Diego with my one true love.
Tristan felt like a real heel.
He wasn’t a big fan of plans. Emma had been full of them. But at least sweet Jayne was up-front about hers. She wasn’t hiding who she was or what she wanted. Or demanding he change what he was and what he wanted.
“Imagine and plan all you want,” he said. “But if you dream of owning a house you should go for it. Now, if you’re able.”
“That would be like asking me to jump out of a fully operational airplane. I couldn’t do it.”
“Jumping out of an airplane isn’t so scary,” Tristan said. “It gets easier each time.”
“How many times have you jumped out of an airplane?”
He shrugged. “More than fifty. Less than a hundred.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s…insane.”
“Insane fun,” he agreed. “I’ll have to show you the photographs.”
Her mouth dropped. “You take your camera with you?”
“Never leave home without it.”
“And I just never leave home.” She laughed. “We’re quite the odd couple.”
“Not so odd.”
“And not a couple.” Too bad.
Although…
Maybe they did want different things in the long term. That didn’t mean a short-term relationship couldn’t work between them.
He could help her loosen up and have fun. He could show her she could pursue her dream of putting down roots without a husband by her side.
Jayne could help him, too. She had brought up a good point. Maybe it was time he stopped living out of a suitcase. Some mornings he’d wake up and forget where he was.
Not to mention if Jayne got what she wanted—her own house—maybe he could get what he wanted—her.
“I have an idea,” he said.
“Not roommates again.”
“No, houses.”
She straightened.
Good, he had her attention. “Maybe I was a little quick to shoot down the idea of buying a place. If the market’s that good—”
“It is.”
“I suppose I could see what’s out there,” he conceded. “Having a home base might make sense, and it sounds like it could be a better move financially.”
“A much better move.”
“I’d need someone to look with me.” He would make sure they looked at condominiums for him and houses for Jayne. “You interested?”
“I love looking at real estate, but I’m not the right person to do this with you.”
“I trust your judgment.”
“You shouldn’t,” she said, without any hesitation. “We’re looking for completely different things.”
He could see her point, but still…” Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”
“No.” The determined set of her jaw told him she meant it. “I’m sure you can find someone else to go with you.”
“Sure, but I know at least you’d be honest with.”
“That’s the problem, Tristan,” she admitted. “You wouldn’t like what I had to say.”
Thursday night, Jayne slipped out of her shoes. Her feet ached. She’d had a long day at work, followed by a dog agility class with Mrs. Whitcomb’s Duke.
Ice cream sounded really good. Jayne thought about Tuesday night and the ice cream cone Tristan had purchased for her…with his credit card. She shook her head.
Tristan MacGregor needed help. The guy used his credit card for everything and lived in a hotel. He’d deluded himself into living a life based on credit and borrowing, but she wasn’t the one to help him. They’d said goodnight. She’d considered it goodbye.
Jayne padded her way into the kitchen. Before she reached the freezer, the telephone rang.
Alex, Molly or Serena?
Smiling, Jayne picked up the telephone receiver from the charger on the counter. “So, what was the high temperature in Vegas today?”
“I have no idea,” Tristan said. “But if you give me a minute I can check weather.com.”
“Tristan. I’m so sorry. I thought you were one of my friends.” Jayne cringed, realizing how that must have sounded. Like she didn’t have many friends. Like she didn’t think of him as a friend. “Other friends, I mean.”
Shut up, Jayne.
Mercifully, he changed the subject. “How was the class with your neighbor’s dog tonight?”
She couldn’t believe he’d remembered. “We both got a workout and met some nice people.”
“Good.” He paused. “And the roommate search? I never asked. Have you posted an ad yet?”
“No.” She leaned against the counter, realizing how empty the house suddenly felt. Eating a bowl of ice cream alone was no longer so appealing. “My friends wanted to look over my ad first.”
“Good friends.”
“The best.” Thinking about Alex, Molly and Serena brought another smile to Jayne’s face. “I realized it would be nice to have someone living here, but there’s no real hurry. I want to make sure I do this roommate thing right and not rush into anything.”
“Smart thinking,” he said. “Never rush into making any big decisions.”
She tightened her fingers around the receiver. “I learned that lesson the hard way.”
“With Rich.”
Jayne swallowed. “Yes.”
“Tough,” Tristan said sympathetically.
“You have no idea,” she said, a trace of bitterness creeping into her voice.
“Actually, I do.” His words surprised her. Could he actually be trying to alleviate her discomfort?
“Your ex-wife?” she guessed.
Silence filled the line. It must be his turn to feel uncomfortable.
“Yeah,” he said finally.
She thought about her own experience. “Because you got engaged too soon?”
“Because we got engaged at all,” he said frankly. “I met Emma during freshman orientation in college. By senior year everyone, including both our families, expected us to get married. It was what she wanted. So I proposed.”
“Is that what you wanted?” Jayne asked.
“It was what I thought I was supposed to want. So we had a big wedding after we graduated.”
“You were young.”
“Too young,” he admitted. “I didn’t think I’d rushed into the decision at the time, but college is its own bubble world. If I’d just put a little more thought into it I would have waited until after graduation and we were supporting ourselves to propose. Turns out Emma didn’t like being the wife of a struggling photojournalist. She wanted me to go work for my father instead.”
“Didn’t she know that you wanted to be a photographer?”
“We talked about it, sure, but I guess not nearly enough. She thought I’d change my mind. I tried.”
“Changing your mind?”
“Being a desk jockey. I hated it. Even my dad said I wasn’t cut out for the office and told me to give photojournalism a shot.”
“You could have tried counseling.”
“We did,” he said, surprising Jayne yet again. “I just couldn’t make myself into the man she wanted me to be. She didn’t want the kind of life my job required. We gave it two years, but after we’d exhausted every other option divorce seemed to be the only alternative.”
She appreciated Tristan opening up the way he had. Most guys she knew wouldn’t have.
“When my father finally wanted out of marriage he just left,” she confided. “No compromising. No counseling. Nothing. At least you tried to save your marriage. That says a lot.”
Maybe Tristan MacGregor wasn’t an identical cookie cutter image of Rich after all.
“Tried, but didn’t succeed. Emma found what she was looking for. She married a doctor, lives in Laguna Beach and has kids now.”
“What about you?” Jayne asked. “Have you found what you wanted?”
“I have everything I want.” Tristan said. “But getting to this point hurt someone I loved. I never want that to happen again.”
“I wish learning the big lessons didn’t have to hurt so much.”
“If they didn’t hurt, we wouldn’t learn.”
“Good point,” she said.
He cleared his throat. “Speaking of learning, I’m planning to look at condominiums on Sunday. I’d still like you to go with me. I know I could learn a lot from you.”
Jayne nearly dropped the phone.
Say no. That was all she had to do. They were looking for different things in homes and from life. Yet she felt closer to Tristan after the conversation they’d just shared.
He was still Rich’s best friend.
But Tristan wasn’t exactly like Rich or…her father. Oh, Tristan still had problems. He knew nothing about finances. He lived in the now without regard to tomorrow. And he couldn’t even commit to a six-month lease let alone a relationship.
But, like her, he’d made mistakes and learned hard lessons. She didn’t want that to happen to him with his real estate search.
She could help him.
She wanted to help him.
“I might have some free time on Sunday,” Jayne said.
Of course she had the time.
But did she have the courage?