Page 21

21

TRINSKY

A nnie glowered at me over the rim of her coffee cup. “What’s the matter with the pancakes?”

I paused mid chew and flashed a sunny smile at the cranky old lady who insisted on being part of my carb-load routine. “Nothing. I’m in heaven. Can’t you tell?”

Annie set her cup on her kitchen table with a shaky hand. “No. You’re usually good for a dozen hotcakes. You’re picking at six, and you’ve hardly touched the eggs. Be honest. Did I crack a shell in ’em?”

I forked up a bite of scrambled eggs and dutifully ate them. “Delicious.”

She pursed her lips in barely concealed glee. “Good. Of course, a little crunch won’t hurt ya either. I’m old, and shit happens.”

“Everything is great, I swear, but this is breakfast number two for me. I had a couple of Pop-Tarts earlier.”

“Is that what the kids are calling sex these days?”

I choked on my eggs, mumbling my thanks as she pushed a glass of orange juice in front of me. “Jesus, Mrs. M.”

Annie snort-laughed. “Oh, don’t be a precious flower, sunshine. If you’ve found a titillating distraction in Elmwood, I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, but?—”

“And curious. Who is she?” Annie hummed thoughtfully when I shook my head. “It’s a secret. Okay. I respect that. I wish I could figure it out. I’ve been watching out the window for days on end, but you’ve been around less than usual, and I haven’t seen any other cars in the driveway. You’re probably seeing a local, but for the life of me, I don’t know who it could be. Hannah Archer, Rebecca Burstow, Jenny Muldugno? It’s not MK, is it? She’s dating that sweet boy from Pinecrest and?—”

“Good for her, but I’m just having fun this summer, Mrs. M. Same as usual.”

“Okay, okay.” She stood slowly and ambled to my side, patting my cheek affectionately before pointing at the collar of my T-shirt. “Nice hickey.”

My hand flew to my neck. I sputtered the beginnings of an explanation but let it go.

Annie didn’t care if I was making out with half the population of Elmwood, and though she might be curious, she wasn’t the type to dig for information I didn’t want to share. My only concern was that she might say something to Denny, but then again…did it matter? He’d think it was a summer hookup, and he’d be correct.

Jake and I were the very definition of a summer fling. We had a finite boundary, a code of silence, and a hard end date. We spent our days pretending to be annoyed with each other’s existences and our nights consumed with lively conversations and incredible sex. We were together every day and every night.

We’d quickly decided we were better off leaving the groups as is at camp. I wanted more time with Jake, not less. I could tease him and he could roll his eyes, and maybe no one would notice that we didn’t avoid each other the way we used to. We made an effort to hang out in crowds too—burgers at the diner, beers at the Black Horse, barbecues at local coach’s homes. Together and yet not.

We were never together in a way anyone would recognize, but we couldn’t have been closer if we tried. I slept in his bed every night and sneaked into Denny’s rental in the wee hours of the morning…well before Annie was awake. I’d borrowed Jake’s toothbrush when I’d forgotten mine and laughed when he’d growled at me, then bought me a spare one the next day. I bought groceries, replenished his supply of sparkling water, and put my Pop-Tarts in his pantry next to his organic rosemary crackers.

The shades of cohabitation were unmistakable, but that didn’t mean anything. Our primary object was still sex.

At least, it was supposed to be.

Truthfully, the lines were beginning to blur. We spent as much timing talking about current events, music we liked, and our adolescent crushes as we did fucking around in bed.

Tonight, we barbecued kabobs pierced with onions and bell peppers while reminiscing over first kisses.

“I was fourteen,” Jake reported, using tongs to turn the meat. “Janie Beckman kissed me next to the refreshment stand at the high school dance. The fact that my dad was chaperoning and witnessed the whole thing made it ten shades of extra awkward.”

I chuckled. “I was thirteen. Emily…something. I forget her last name, but I remember that she liked hockey. A lot. She used to hang out at the rink and wait for me. I think she was my first stalker.”

“Your first? You’ve had a few?”

“Are you joking? After every game, I’ve got a posse of fans who want to go home with me.” Slight exaggeration but it wasn’t untrue, and I had a feeling it was the same for Jake. There was always someone willing to warm my bed. Always someone to take the edge off and keep me company for a night or two.

“How often do you take one of them up on their generous offer?” he asked.

I pointed at the onion blackening on one of the kabobs. “Not often.”

Jake snapped his gaze my way. “Really?”

“It used to be a rush to have someone want me because I was semi-famous and good at my job. Now it feels cold.”

He stacked the kabobs on a plate and set it on the picnic table. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“It also feels a little weird to talk about hooking up with random women with the guy I’m secretly doing the dirty with,” I observed, slathering butter on an ear of corn on the cob.

Jake sat across from me and playfully kicked my shin. “I get that. It’s probably very uncool of me to admit this, but the idea of you with anyone else makes me feel ill.”

I kicked him back and bit into the corn cob. “Good. It makes me feel homicidal.”

“Geez, we’re a couple of head cases.” He laughed.

“Just do me a favor and don’t invite me to your wedding.”

“Deal. Don’t invite me to yours either.”

I snorted. “Oh, please. No one in their right mind would marry me, Milligan.”

“True, but you’re rich,” he teased.

“And I’m hung.”

Jake snickered. “Sure, but?—”

“Jake! Jake! Jake!”

We swiveled on the picnic bench as three kids barreled into the yard via the side gate, followed closely by Smitty.

I schooled my features into what I hoped passed as casual surprise and delivered a clandestine nudge under the table to Jake, who was seemingly frozen in place. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

We should have had a plausible excuse on hand in the unlikely event we’d get caught in a situation like this, but we didn’t and…now one of us was going to have to wing it, and it sure as hell wasn’t Jake. Poor guy was freaked the fucked out.

“I’m interested in buying property here, and I invited myself over just as you’d fired up the grill,” I said in a low voice, jumping up to greet the newcomers. “Yo, it’s the Milligan-Paluchek brigade!”

I fist-bumped Nathan, gave Charlotte a high five, and picked Ella up and tossed her in the air before braving a glance at their dad. I liked to think I was pretty good at reading people, but Smitty wasn’t giving me any clues under his dark sunglasses.

He tilted his chin my way and cast a curious look toward the grill. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to interrupt dinner. We were in the neighborhood, and the kids wanted to say hi.”

“We saw your car and smoke in your yard,” Charlotte interjected. “We thought you were having a party without us.”

“Want to see my cartwheel?” Ella skipped onto the lawn, her big sister at her heels.

Nathan examined the plates of food. “I love corn on the cob. Can I have one?”

Jake jolted out of his silent stupor and nodded profusely. “Yeah, sure. I made too much food and Mason showed up and?—”

“Who’s Mason?” Nathan asked, flopping next to his brother on the bench.

Oh, wow. This wasn’t going well.

I raised my hand. “Me. Jakey only calls me that when he’s grumpy.”

“You don’t seem grumpy. Are you grumpy?” Nathan reached to grab an ear of corn, but at the last second glanced at Smitty for permission. “Can I have one, Dad?”

“No, we’re not staying. Papa is expecting us home for dinner and?—”

“Stay,” I intercepted. “I was on my way out, anyway. Thanks for showing me around, Jake. I’ll have to get in touch with your dad about visiting properties in the area.”

I really doubted Smitty bought the flimsy excuse, but I didn’t have an alternative one, and my presence was making this awkward. I supposed we should be grateful they hadn’t shown up an hour earlier when we’d been buck naked and grunting like cavemen in heat.

I waved to the kids, stumbled through a good-bye to Jake and Smitty, and headed for the gate. Of course, I immediately had to backtrack and rescue my keys and phone from the house, so that was…not good.

None of this was good. Poor Jake.

I felt guilty, but what were we gonna do? Tell the truth? Would he ever want anyone to know? Would I? From a career perspective, no. But personally, was I someone he’d want to introduce to his family? Or was this all way too much, too soon?