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“Maybe you’d better,” he snapped. “And don’t call me up when you get lonely in a couple of weeks. That new legal assistant’s been eyeing me for weeks. You can bet I’ll be talking to her tomorrow.”
He’d meant to hurt her, obviously, but all Jane felt was relief. And a fleeting hope that the new legal assistant preferred friction over thrust. “I’m sorry,” she said one more time as she grabbed her purse and stood. “I thought it would be better to end things before I met your parents. Do you want me to pay my half of the bill?”
“For Christ’s sake, just get the hell out!” Greg snatched up his water and took a gulp, not meeting her eyes at all.
Had he been in love with her? She didn’t think so. He looked more furious than hurt. But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t stay with a man she wasn’t attracted to. “Goodbye.”
She waited for an answer, but none came, so Jane turned and walked toward the door. Her feet wanted to run, but she wouldn’t let them. She thought she heard a muttered curse behind her—something like “frigid bitch”—but she didn’t acknowledge it. She’d been called a lot worse than that in her life. And if that was what he’d said, then good riddance.
Jane stepped out onto the street and took a deep breath. Free. Invisible ropes of tension were falling away as if she’d cut herself free with a knife. This was becoming a pattern with her. Cringing at the thought, she started her walk back to work. It was only half a mile, and she felt totally energized.
A few more hours in the office and then the whole evening stretched out before her like a promise. No sex with Greg. No discussion of opera or foreign films or constitutional law or any of those other things that helped to shape her public persona. After work, Jane was going to go home, take a bath and watch something vile on pay-per-view. Maybe a horror movie. All that and she could still get to bed early and be bright eyed for work tomorrow.
Wow. She was free.
She tried to tamp down the relief that swelled inside her. She’d be twenty-nine on Sunday. The last year of her twenties. In 368 days she’d be thirty. She wanted to marry someday, wanted the chance to have children if she decided to. And if she wanted to marry the right kind of guy, she had to stop dumping boyfriends for superficial reasons.
A woman didn’t need hot sex to live a good life. Just as she didn’t need a man with muscles. A rough guy in jeans and boots. A man who would wind his calloused hand into her hair and tell her exactly what he was going to—
“Crud.” Jane shook her head to scramble those thoughts. She wasn’t that girl anymore, and she never would be again. That girl had been a nightmare of low self-esteem and even lower expectations.
Jane Morgan was a respectable woman and she’d marry a respectable man. She had a few more years to find one, surely, but wouldn’t it take that long just to meet someone and truly know him? She was going to have to get over her boredom with safe men, fast.
Despite her stern internal lecture, Jane couldn’t stop her grin as she headed toward her office, but once she walked through the door she put on her serious face and got back to work. A half hour later her world was back to normal. The perfect quiet job in the perfect quiet office…until her cell phone rang and she glanced down to see the screen flashing “Mom.”
“Oh, no,” Jane groaned, taking a deep breath before she dared to answer it.
“Honey,” her mom said immediately, “please tell me you’ve heard from your brother.”
Alarm spiked in her blood. “Jessie? Why, is something going on?”
“He didn’t come home last night.”
Jane’s heart stopped, though not out of panic. No, her heart stopped out of sheer disbelief. “That’s why you’re calling?”
“He left at six last night, and he didn’t come home and he hasn’t called, and I don’t know what to do!”
“Mom…” She made herself take a deep breath and count to ten. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I just… Oh, honey, I’m sure your little brother is in trouble.”
“Oh, that’s probably true,” Jane answered. “I just have no idea what that has to do with me. Jessie’s twenty-one years old, Mom. An adult, just like me.”
“Well…” Her mother sighed. “He never had the advantages you did, baby.”
Jane squeezed the phone tighter and glared at a spot of late-afternoon sunlight hitting Mr. Jennings’s door. Advantages. The woman was living in a dream world.
“He’s not as smart as you.”
A deep breath helped bring Jane’s blood pressure down. “I’ve told you not to call me at work unless it’s an emergency. This isn’t personal time for me.”
“It is an emergency!”
“No, it is not. A grown man can’t be considered missing after eighteen hours. Especially not a grown man who likes to drink and hook up with skanky barflies.”
“Now, that’s just mean!”
“Mom, I’m sorry, I have to go. Is there anything else?”
“Well, I don’t think so… Wait! Are you coming over for your birthday?”
Jane cringed. Before breaking up with Greg, she’d had the perfect excuse to miss a birthday party with her family. But now… Jane found herself wishing her mom had forgotten her only daughter’s birthday, but no such luck. Her mother had been a pretty shabby parent, but not because she lacked kindness or generosity. Just the opposite, in fact. But Jane hadn’t needed a girlfriend when she was growing up. She’d needed a mother.
“Sorry, Mom. I’m busy.”
“Oh, are you doing something with that new boyfriend?”
“Mmm-hmm. Yeah.”
“You could bring him with, you know.”
Jane tried to picture Greg in her mother’s house, but the idea defied the laws of nature. He’d never have made it past the burned-out car in the front yard.
“Your dad finally hauled off the Corvair,” her mom added hopefully.
Well, then. No burned-out car in the yard, so that just left…everything else. Her family, the shop, the house and the other cast-off vehicles scattered around. Perfect. Maybe her mom had added that chicken coop she’d always wanted.
“No, thanks, Mom. I’ll call you, though.”
“Oh. Okay. All right.”
Ignoring the obvious disappointment in her voice, Jane hung up and stared at the phone as the screen faded to black. What did it say about her that she’d rather be alone on her birthday than spend time with her family? What kind of person was she?
The familiar guilt sank its claws into her heart and squeezed.
As an adult, Jane could see the mistakes her mother had made through a clearer lens. There had been no malice in her mom’s decisions, just immaturity and desperation. The life she’d subjected Jane to—the poverty and prison visits and constant moves—had been the only life her mother had ever known. And without the early intervention of her stepfather, Jane would’ve sunk straight into that life, too.
So she wasn’t truly angry with her mom anymore. She was just…uncomfortable.
Her family—her mom and stepfather and brother—knew who Jane really was. They knew the kind of girl she’d been, and they saw right through her false transformation into a conservative businesswoman.
The problem wasn’t so much her family. The problem was that Jane Morgan was a fraud. And she didn’t like being reminded of it.
Better to keep the two halves of her life separated by a wide expanse. That way, no one got hurt, especially Jane.
WILLIAM CHASE CRANKED UP the stereo as he roared down the mountain. The wide-open windows let in the crisp spring air and quite a bit of dust from the road. Chase didn’t care. After a blast like that, nothing could ruin his mood.
Fifteen hundred pounds of dynamite chewing up granite as if it were papier-mâché. Sweet mother. Without a doubt, Chase had the best job in the world.
He tapped his hands against the steering wheel and grinned. Blasting days were his favorites. They didn’t come often enough, though. It took a lot of planning to execute, plus an unbelievable amount of paperwork. And hell, most excavations didn’t require even one single stick of dynamite, just a backhoe and a bulldozer. But when a new hotel was going up on Aspen Mountain, the foundation had to go somewhere, and that somewhere was straight into the bedrock.
Though he’d started Extreme Excavations only six years before, Chase had already made a name for himself as the go-to guy for tough jobs. Not just the big stuff, but the intricate work, as well. Chase could blow out a wall of rock fifty feet wide and leave the hundred-year-old barn that stood two feet away without even the slightest creak of boards.
He was good, and he knew it, and that made the work even better.
Smiling, he turned onto Main Street and passed his favorite coffee shop without a glance. No need for caffeine today. He was high on life. And explosions.
When he pulled into the parking lot of Jennings Architecture, he didn’t get out right away. Instead, he let his head fall back against the headrest and waited for his favorite song to end. When the bass-heavy music faded away, the drip of water from hundreds of roofs became the dominant sound. Winter was officially over, and months of grueling work stretched out before him.
Scoring a job with Quinn Jennings was a big coup. Quinn was one of the most sought after architects in town, and though Chase normally worked on commercial projects, he’d jumped wholeheartedly at the chance to work with Quinn on a few residential builds.
Chase cut the engine and headed into the small office building. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was stopped in his tracks by a large desk guarded by a woman whose posture radiated cool judgment.
A pair of big brown eyes studied him through black-framed glasses. “Good afternoon,” the woman said. Her eyes flickered to his chest and then back up. Chase felt a jolt of interest, but the disapproval in her gaze made him wonder why he felt like smiling.
“Hi, I’m Chase,” he said, giving in to the smile.
She didn’t respond, except to raise an eyebrow. Even her fingers stayed poised over the keyboard, as if she were only waiting for him to move along so she could get back to work.
“I’m with Extreme Excavations,” he clarified.
“I see. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Chase.”
“It’s just Chase.” Another arch of her eyebrow. Chase cleared his throat and tried to shake off the urge to squirm. “Quinn Jennings asked me to stop by to pick up some preliminary plans. I told him I’d be here today.”
The woman finally lifted her hands from the keyboard and folded them primly on the desk. “Mr. Jennings is on the phone right now. If you’d care to have a seat, he should only be a few moments.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m Jane. In the future it may be best to speak with me about project materials. Mr. Jennings has a tendency to overlook those kinds of details when he’s working.”
“Um…okay. Nice to meet you, Jane.”
“Can I get you something? Coffee or water?”
“No, thank you. I’ll just…”
Her head tilted toward the grouping of chairs to his right, as if Chase were a child in need of coaxing. Chase nodded and sat down without another word, relieved that this woman wasn’t his secretary. He’d live in terror of ever being late to work.
Then again, she was kind of pretty.
Chase’s brow fell into a frown, as startled by the thought as he had been by the little zing of interest he’d felt under her gaze. He glanced up to watch her type something on the computer. Her stylish little glasses slipped down her nose and she nudged them up again.
Was she pretty?
Well, despite the fact that she seemed to be made of ice, her full lips looked very soft. And her brown eyes were gorgeous in spite of her reserved expression. The rest of Jane was difficult to decipher. Her black suit jacket was tailored to reveal nothing of her figure, and her shiny brown hair was pulled back into a tight knot. The only jewelry she wore was a pair of small pearl earrings.
In every way she looked like a conservative professional woman who didn’t believe in letting loose.
Fingers typing away, she glanced toward Chase, and he averted his eyes to the nameplate on her desk. Jane Morgan.
Something about that rigid exterior made his fingers itch.
He dared another peek and happened to catch Jane licking her lips. The tip of her tongue looked very pink against her mouth. If she wore lipstick, it was the very plainest of colors, but there was nothing plain about that little flash of her tongue.
Chase shifted in his seat and drew her eye back to him. This time she glanced away. A flush crept into her cheeks, and his pulse sped in response. He probably wouldn’t even have noticed such a faint hint of color in another woman’s cheeks, but it seemed like a significant response for her. She was aware of him, and he narrowed his eyes and let his gaze slide down to her elegant neck.
Her skin looked soft as all hell, and he couldn’t help but wonder how a lady like this would respond to being nibbled. But why the hell was he thinking about nibbling a complete stranger?
Before his frown could fully form, he realized what it was. The blast. He was always pumped up after a good explosion. Pumped up and horny as hell. Prissy Jane probably wouldn’t react well to that at all.
His cell rang, cutting off the chuckle rising in his throat.
She looked surprised when he murmured, “Pardon me,” and stepped out the door. Surprised because he was polite? Because of the tattoo, maybe? Chase was smiling when he answered the phone, though his insurance agent’s talk of rising liability rates sobered him up pretty quickly.
Chase paced back and forth across the doorway for a few minutes, arguing his case, but it was no use. The agent swore it was an across-the-board increase and nothing to do with Extreme Excavation’s records. “Our goddamn safety record is spotless,” he insisted one last time, glancing through the glass to be sure the secretary hadn’t overheard him and covered her ears.
Her eyes were on him. She was watching, but she wasn’t scowling. Jane the secretary was staring at his chest.
Chase froze and watched her as his agent babbled in his ear. When her gaze finally rose to his, she blinked rapidly before snapping her eyes back to the computer screen.
Well.
He turned his back on her and wrapped things up with his agent, then glanced quickly over his shoulder to try to catch her again. No such luck. The woman was fully focused on her work.
When he tucked the phone back into his pocket, Chase realized that there was a smear of gray dust across the front of his dark blue T-shirt. Maybe that’s what she’d been looking at. “Shit,” he muttered, strangely disappointed that she hadn’t been indulging in a fantasy of getting dirty with a blue-collar worker.
Shrugging, he headed back inside just as Quinn Jennings emerged from his office.
“Hey, Chase,” the architect said, hand outstretched.
Chase shook his hand and took the folder Quinn offered. “Thanks, man.”
“Sorry I forgot to leave it with Jane. Next time you’d better call her.”
“That’s just what she said.” Chase dared a look at her, but Jane ignored the conversation.
“Well, apparently I’m trainable after all,” Quinn said with a laugh. “Keep it as long as you need.”
“Shouldn’t be more than a few days.”
A hand popped into his view and snatched the file from his fingers. “I’ll take that,” Jane said. “I’ll need to make a copy before it leaves this office.”
“Um…understood,” Chase answered the back of her head. She was already at the copier.
While Quinn excused himself to head out to a site, Chase checked out Jane’s ass, but her straight gray skirt didn’t offer much of a view. She was tall, and either curvy or a little chubby, but Chase was a man, and a little softness on a woman didn’t scare him at all.
“Here you are, Mr. Chase.”
