Chapter Thirteen

Ginger made a stop at both the grocery store and the home improvement store on her way home that afternoon. She hated to admit she was holding on to a small ray of hope Greg would come by this evening. It would be nice to clarify their friendship, to remove any misunderstandings and uncertainties about what they each expected. Since they would be working together, it would be unbearable to have to second guess every remark and action.

She cast another quick glance at the vase of roses on the passenger seat as she slowed the car and turned onto her street. She couldn’t help but smile every time she thought about Greg’s private joke with the flowers. These she would proudly display in the center of her table so he would see them the next time he came over. There wouldn’t be any doubt as to how much she valued his friendship. If he came back over, that was.

She was almost to her house when she pushed her thoughts aside. A man had just stepped onto the sidewalk at the corner of her property. She could’ve sworn he’d come from her front yard. He was wearing beige shorts, a dark blue polo shirt, and blue walking shoes. She slowed the car and watched him for a moment as he headed down the sidewalk. Then she gave a sigh of relief. It was just her neighbor, Rick Thornton.

She heard Jack’s barking before she even stopped her car. And it wasn’t one of those I’m so happy you’re home kind of barks. It was the kind he used whenever they passed Rick’s house during their walks. Her relief in recognizing him was now turning into misgiving. He hadn’t turned around when she pulled into her driveway, raising even more suspicion.

She shook off her anxiety and got out of the car. Her neighbor might be strange, but that didn’t mean he was Mr. Evil. More than likely he was just shy and insecure, not really comfortable with getting to know people. After all, she’d never seen him outside with any of the other neighbors before. In all fairness, she hadn’t exactly been the best neighbor on the block, either.

Grabbing her purse, she got out of the car. “Rick!” She had to call out twice before he turned. She waved at him before she leaned back in the car for the vase of roses. The groceries and supplies could wait until she came back for them, but not wanting Rick to feel obligated to help her, she closed the car door. Rick’s smile seemed to falter when he saw the roses. Who could blame him? They truly were overwhelming.

“Did you want to see me about something?” she asked when he drew closer. Jack’s incessant barking from inside her house was driving her nuts, but some instinct told her not to stop him. He was her high-tech alarm system, and it wouldn’t hurt to let everyone know it.

“Wow,” he said with a nod toward the flowers. “Beautiful roses. They match your shirt.”

She looked down and then chuckled. “I guess they do. It’s a good thing I didn’t wear black today.”

“Who are they from?”

She blinked. She almost blurted out, “None of your business,” but then realized he couldn’t have meant his words to sound as blunt as they had.

“A friend,” she replied, which was the truth. She could tell he was waiting for her to expound on her statement, but she just smiled.

“Well, it must be a special friend. They’re beautiful.”

“Did you need to see me about something?” she asked again, ignoring his comment. It wasn’t so much the questions over her roses as it was the piercing look in his eyes, even though his smile remained firmly in place.

“No, I was just out for a walk, and I heard your dog barking. I thought something might be wrong, so I knocked on your door.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” She adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder. “Jack usually doesn’t bark like this. I better go check on him.” She walked over to her mailbox at the curb and retrieved the usual pile of junk mail. “It was nice seeing you.” She gave him a smile over her shoulder and walked to her door.

“Same here,” he replied. “Take care.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, glad Rick hadn’t tried to prolong the conversation. She hated to be rude, but she really didn’t want to start a pattern where she’d have to stop and talk every time they ran into each other. She understood his shyness, and she felt sorry for him, but as much as she tried to explain away his awkwardness, the man was just plain strange.

And Jack seemed to agree because her dog didn’t act this way around anybody else. “Hush, Jack,” she commanded as she struggled to fit her key in the door. If he didn’t calm down, he was going to knock her over when she stepped inside. She started to open the door when something caught her attention. A tingling sensation crawled up her spine as she looked down at the ground. Thanks to the recent rains, the dirt was soft under her living room window, which was why the large footprints stood out so clearly.

She opened her door, placed the roses and the bags on the counter, and then went through the usual ritual with Jack before letting him outside, but her mind was on the footprints below her window. If Rick had become concerned something was wrong at her house, he might have stepped to the window to peek inside. She didn’t like that idea, but it still made sense. And yet something she couldn’t put her finger on bothered her about the footprints.

She walked over to the living room window and looked outside. She always kept her blinds partially open during the days because she much preferred coming home to a house where natural sunlight streamed in instead of a dark, dreary house that had been closed up all day. And she knew it was almost impossible for anybody to see inside when no lights were on. Unless, of course, they walked right up to the window. And then she realized what was bothering her. The footprints weren’t fresh.

Should she call the police? If so, what would she tell them? She wasn’t comfortable with that idea, but she wasn’t comfortable with the idea someone might have tried to peek inside her house, either.

Her next thought was to call Greg. Instinctively, she knew she could trust his advice, and he would know what to do. But that just sounded too pathetic. He would certainly believe she was using the strange footprints as an excuse to get him to come over.

So she compromised. She grabbed one of her construction pencils off the counter and boldly wrote today’s date on one of the sales flyers. She retrieved her phone from her purse, picked up the flyer, and then stepped out front. And just like she’d seen on television, she started snapping pictures of the footprints from all different angles. She then placed the flyer beside them with the date clearly showing, and snapped a few more.

Feeling very Columbo-ish, she nodded in satisfaction, picked up the flyer, and went back inside. If she ever needed proof of the footprints below her window, the pictures could be pulled off her phone instantly. For now, she could put the incident out of her mind.

She let Jack back inside, fed him a milk bone treat, and made her way to the bedroom to change clothes. Daylight’s a’wastin’!

It only took a few hours for her mood to sour, though. Standing in the kitchen with one hip pressed against the counter, she ate a turkey and cheese sandwich and tried to ignore the deep sighs coming from Jack. He had followed her into the kitchen and plopped down in the corner, his big head resting on his paws. After one more sigh, she glared at him. “It’s not my fault. I wanted Greg to come over tonight, too. You’re going to have to deal with it just like I am.”

But the truth was, she wasn’t dealing with it very well. While working in her living room, she’d held her breath every time she heard a car, waiting to see if it would pull into her driveway, and twice she’d checked her phone to make sure the battery hadn’t gone dead. She was going to have to learn to deal with it much better than she had, because nothing in the rule books for friendship mentioned she had to see her friends every single day.

She poured herself a glass of milk and tried to shrug off the melancholy seeping through her system. It had been a great day—she’d accomplished quite a bit, and there was no way she was going to let the presence—or absence—of another person dictate her happiness.

She’d left that particular weakness in the past, and she wasn’t ever going back there.

She rinsed her glass in the sink and then let Jack out one last time. A quick shower followed by some quality time reading the new novel she’d picked up sounded like a perfect way to end the day. She didn’t need to be surrounded by friends to feel satisfied, she thought defiantly.

But she did glance at her phone one more time before turning out the lights and heading for her bedroom.

****

Greg slowed his truck as he approached Ginger’s house. He was disappointed to find the lights out, but it was late, and he wasn’t really surprised she’d gone to bed. He’d hoped to find her still awake, though, so he could drop in and razzle-dazzle her with his charm, something he planned to do on a regular basis.

If she thought one episode of incredible sex was enough, then she was sadly mistaken. He was confident he and Ginger were mature enough to handle a physical relationship along with their friendship because, while they enjoyed being together, neither of them wanted anything more serious.

His stomach—and other more sensitive parts of his body—tightened just thinking about how she’d felt in his arms with her legs wrapped around his hips, her soft moans of pleasure whispering in his ear.

Taking a deep breath and shifting in the seat, Greg forced his thoughts elsewhere. Where had she put the roses he’d given her? Were they in her kitchen or maybe the bedroom? He recalled the cute blush that had crept up her face when everyone teased her about having a secret admirer. She’d carefully avoided looking at him, but he’d caught the sparkle in her eyes before she lowered them.

Greg gave her house one last look and then headed for home. The meeting with Clyde had turned into an all-day event, ending with dinner at Clyde’s spacious five-bedroom home after touring the jobsite. The dinner had been excellent, but he couldn’t help but compare the elegant surroundings and formal dinner to Ginger’s comfortable—albeit ravaged—home and leftover pizza.

He didn’t just enjoy the home Ginger was working so hard to create; he also enjoyed the easy, natural way she was doing it. He loved the way her eyes would light up while she worked on a project, and she wasn’t afraid to get down and dirty while she was doing it. Such a contrast to the type of women he had grown accustomed to. Those women usually went out of their way to prove how feminine they were, how fragile and helpless they were without a strong, rich man to help them.

He knew he was exaggerating. He had never really cared enough to scratch the surface of a woman’s layers. He hadn’t looked past the pretty face or alluring body. He wasn’t interested in a permanent relationship, so he tolerated their games. Until Ginger, that was. She was definitely different, and refreshingly so.

When he pulled into his driveway, the porch light was on, and Justin and Steve were sitting on the steps. The three brothers often held their own meetings relaxing on the front porch, sipping beer in the evenings and coffee in the mornings, discussing everything and anything. But Greg had other things on his mind, and for once, he wasn’t in the mood for a talkfest.

“Did you get lost?” Steve called out with a grin.

Greg sighed. Whether he was in the mood or not, it looked like he was going to be sitting a while with his brothers. “No,” he said, reaching for the beer Justin held out to him. “Just had to make a quick stop.” He sat down on the bottom step and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

“Good,” Steve said in mock seriousness. “I thought you had fallen back into your evil ways. You haven’t been out partying in so long I was hoping you weren’t experiencing a relapse tonight.”

“Very funny.” Greg rolled his eyes and took a sip of the beer. “And how would you know whether I’ve been out partying or not?”

“Well, unless you’ve discovered you get luckier dressing in ratty work clothes than you do in regular attire, I’d say you definitely haven’t been out on the prowl.”

Greg shot his brother a warning look, but Steve ignored him.

“Of course, maybe playing hard to get the past couple of years has severely limited the field of likely candidates for you to play with. Pretending to be homeless may have its benefits with the more sympathetic female. Women are made to nurture, and you’ve been looking like you could use some nurturing.”

Greg quickly leaned over and poured the remainder of his beer in Steve’s lap.

“Hey!” Steve yelped, then laughed as he scrambled to stand up. “I was just teasing!”

“Gee, so was I,” Greg said sardonically.

Steve grinned as he headed for the door. “You better come up with a better strategy than being down and out, little brother. Your mood tells me you haven’t been lucky in quite a while.”

Greg turned his head and looked out toward the street. If Steve only knew.

The door closed behind Steve, and Justin looked at Greg. “Are you having woman trouble again? If someone is stalking you, you could always find another one of your girlfriends to pretend you’re engaged or something. That would send a message to your stalker.”

Greg hung his head and groaned. “Is everybody a comedian in this family?”

Justin laughed and leaned over to slap him on the back. “This is your own fault. Your love life has provided many hours of entertainment. But on to a more important matter. Carl Rothberg sent me an email message that I didn’t see until we got home. He’s ready to finalize everything on the Sharmon Oil Company’s new office building project and schedule a start date. I replied one of us would meet with him tomorrow. We’ll have to meet with the city inspector and apply for the building permit and notify the subcontractors. I’m thinking it will take a few days. And by we, I mean you. Steve has to do the photo layout on Clyde’s job, and I have that speech I’m giving at the Building Contractors Forum downtown.”

Steve came back outside wearing a T-shirt and a pair of shorts and carrying three cold beers. “Lucky you, you can get out of town for a while and let all your adoring fans cool their heels.” He passed out the beers.

Greg opened his bottle. “You know, Steve, if this construction gig doesn’t work out for you, you can always become a standup comedian.”

Steve chuckled. “You know I’m just joking. It just strikes me as funny that for the past couple of years you’ve tried so hard to convince everyone you’re a player without ever worrying about the consequences, and now it appears you’re bored with that. I think it’s a positive change.”

“Do you want to wear another beer?”

Steve plopped down in his chair. He asked Justin a question about Clyde’s job, but Greg tuned his brothers out. He took a sip of his beer and turned to look out over the yard. This wasn’t the first time one of his brothers had made a not-so-subtle comment about his drastic personality change following his ill-fated engagement to Shandra. And as before, he chose to ignore it. Even though they had given him their full support and understanding, Greg knew there was really no way they could comprehend what had happened to him the night it all ended.

Still, it didn’t give him any pleasure to know he was successful in portraying a person who didn’t give a damn about anybody else. He did care. Hell, if anything, he cared too much. That’s why he vowed he would never let a woman capture his heart ever again. There was safety in being polite and friendly, as long as he remembered to hold a part of himself back. And by doing so, he never risked the same emotional trauma he had barely survived two years ago.

He reflected on the ironic synchronism of his and Ginger’s past. They had both believed themselves to be in love with people who were users, people who went after what they wanted with no regard to honesty and decency.

He’d promised himself he would never allow another person to have that kind of control over him again. And for two years he’d been successful. His strategy had worked perfectly. He had many friends—of both sexes—that he could call at a moment’s notice. Sure, he knew when a woman wanted more than he was willing to offer—marriage, family, a home—but he never pretended he had the same goals. He never intentionally led a woman to believe he was interested in more than a few fun nights of casual entertainment, and he refused to feel guilty about what he wanted.

He suddenly felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing to Ginger? She said she only wanted a friendship with him. She’d been upfront and honest. And he’d decided he was going to change her mind. What a hypocrite. But on the heels of that thought came the realization the situation with Ginger was different. He’d seen the desire in her eyes, he’d felt the wild explosion of her body pressed close to his, and he knew her fear of becoming more than just friends stemmed from mistrust and insecurity.

The main thing he had going for him was that he would never lie to her, and he would never use her for his own selfish reasons. He would convince her they could have fun together, they could be completely truthful with each other, and when it was over, there would be no hurt feelings or expectations of anything more.

Now, thanks to this unexpected trip to Dallas, he would have to wait to begin his campaign to win her over. Fate could sure be a fickle thing.

****

Ginger had enough work to do to keep her busy for several days without a break. Some new jobs were starting, and some existing jobs were wrapping up, all of it requiring cost breakdowns, reports, and scheduling, checks to prepare for the subcontractors, and deposits to be made. She shouldn’t have had time to feel any disappointment Greg was out of town for a few days. But she did.

At least Justin and Steve had been too busy today to notice she jumped every time the front door opened, or that she glanced at the clock every fifteen minutes or so. It was Friday, and the day had passed surprisingly fast, despite her mind deciding to take a leave of absence.

Greg had placed a note on her desk the morning he left for Dallas, giving her his itinerary, detailed instructions on a couple of things he needed her to handle for him while he was gone, and a one-line sentence stating he would be back before the office closed on Friday. She glanced at the clock again. The odds were he wasn’t going to make it.

Steve had left the office over an hour ago, and she knew Justin was planning on working late. With a sigh, Ginger turned her neck from side to side to loosen the tight muscles and got up from her desk. She walked down the hallway to Justin’s office and poked her head in. “Do you need anything else today?”

He looked up from the papers on his desk. “What? Oh, no, I don’t think so,” he said with a smile. “You have a good weekend, and thanks for a great job this week. It wouldn’t have gone nearly as smooth without you.”

She smiled. Her bosses were never shy about expressing their gratitude for the smallest thing, from making a pot of coffee, to reloading the staplers, or to preparing a detailed proposal. They gave praise freely and often, but she wasn’t stupid. All of that would change if Justin or Steve discovered she’d been intimate with their brother, which was why she needed to shake off this strange feeling of emptiness Greg’s absence had caused the last few days.

She headed toward her desk, her thoughts focused on the looming weekend. With luck, she might be able to finish the work in her living room and then move on to the kitchen, the next room on her “things to conquer” list, and the most expensive.

Leaning down to grab her purse from the desk drawer, she heard the front door open, and before she remembered she didn’t care if she saw Greg today or not, she looked up, and there he was.

Her heart did a little pit-pat. Swallowing, she forced her features into a nonchalant pose. “You’re back,” she said, in case he didn’t realize where he was.

Greg didn’t say a word as he walked toward her. Her feet were rooted to the ground as she watched him advance, an enigmatic expression on his face, his movements slow and deliberate. When he stood right in front of her, he cupped her face in both of his hands. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted an instant before he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. And then just as suddenly, when her legs were about to buckle, he raised his head and smiled into her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

Ginger blinked. Greg called out to Justin as he headed toward his brother’s office, but his voice seemed to come from a great distance. She blinked again. “Oh, my,” she whispered, raising a trembling hand to her mouth. She stood still for a moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning. Then she cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, and placed one foot in front of the other in a valiant effort to make her way to the door.