A Word with the Bachelor (11 page)

“Everyone,” Kim continued, “this is Jack Garner, author of the phenomenally successful book
High
Value
Target
. Has anyone read it?” All but one or two hands went up and there was an enthusiastic murmuring as hero worship ratcheted up. “Good. I thought you all might enjoy hearing what Mr. Garner has to say. So, take it away, Jack.”

“Thanks.” As the teacher moved to the side, Jack stood alone.

He could have looked more uncomfortable, but Erin couldn't see how. Still, the students didn't know him like she did and wouldn't see it.

“Okay. Here's the deal. I figure you get lectured to enough.” He glanced at Kim. “No offense, Mrs. Miller.”

“None taken.”

“So, I didn't prepare notes. I'm just going to tell you a little about myself then open this up to questions.” He thought for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. “I was raised by a single mother and never knew my dad. Not a very good student. Didn't have a lot of options beyond high school so I joined the army. After leaving the service, I wrote
High Value Target
and you all know the rest.”

He wasn't kidding about his life story taking five seconds. But that was such a skeletal description of him and Erin had been around teenagers long enough to know they wouldn't let him get away with not filling in some of the blanks. When he asked for questions, again nearly everyone in the room raised a hand.

Jack looked surprised, but relaxed a little. He pointed to a dark-haired girl in the front row. “Tell me your name, then ask your question. That goes for all of you.”

“Mackenzy Bray,” she said. “And this is my question. Mrs. Miller told us there are a lot of options for us when we graduate. I'm wondering why you picked the army.”

“The choice was kind of made for me. It's true I was a bad student. But I left out the part about being arrested. Not proud of it and don't recommend the experience. Before you ask, it doesn't matter what I did. The important part is the judge went easy on me because I was just under eighteen and it was a first offense. He made it clear it better be the last and said I lacked structure and discipline. Strongly recommended joining the military in whatever branch would take me. That turned out to be the army.”

“Did you like it?” A boy in front of Erin blurted out the question.

Jack grinned and you could almost hear every female heart skipping a beat. “Speaking of discipline and not following orders.”

“Sorry.” The kid's voice was sheepish. “My name is Blake Hoffman.”

“And you want to know if I liked it since there was some arm-twisting to get me there.” He nodded. “The answer is that no one was more surprised than me when I took to the life and was good at it.”

A girl's hand went up and he pointed to her. Erin recognized the teenager from Office Supplies and More. “Glenna Smith, Mr. Garner—”

“Call me Jack.”

“Jack,” she said shyly. “The bio in your book said you joined Special Forces, Ranger Battalion.”

“Yes. That's how much I liked the life. I wanted to be the best of the best and serve my country.”

“So why retire from it?” she asked.

“Good question.” There was a guarded look in his eyes. “I just knew it was time. Next question.”

“Did you always want to be a writer? Russ Palmer,” the boy added.

“No. In fact I wasn't much of a reader until I needed something to do during downtime. And there was a lot of it. A buddy gave me a book and I was hooked. Read everything I could get my hands on.”

“Why did you start writing?” Kim shrugged. “You already know who I am and this is my classroom. Rank has its privileges.”

He grinned, then half sat on a corner of her desk. “To be honest, along with the positive of joining up, the fact is soldiers train for war. There are some things no one can prepare you for. It leaves a mark. I started a journal and really liked putting words on paper. That evolved into a fictional character with a story.” He shrugged. “Against all odds it was published.”

“And a success,” Kim said.

Erin saw a shadow cross his face and knew it was doubt, the intangible enemy dogging him now. The expression was completely opposite of the way he'd looked when talking about being a soldier. He'd once told her it was all he was good at, but she disagreed. And he couldn't see the way he was connecting with these kids. Until you'd stood in the front of a classroom and witnessed teenage eyes glazed over with boredom, you couldn't appreciate how involved these kids were now.

She was very surprised that he opened up to her about his rocky youth, but chalked that up to progress in their working relationship. Today he'd related some very personal and not very flattering details about himself to these kids—strangers—and it was a huge step for him. For them it was a lesson that there was no single path in life to success. Good information for them to have. He'd been honest about the bad stuff so his message had a profound impact.

“What's your next book about? Chloe Larson,” she added.

Erin's stomach knotted again. The last female who mentioned his next book got the cold shoulder. He was touchy about the sequel and wouldn't discuss it. She held her breath, waiting for him to respond. Or walk away without another word as he'd done to Lucy Bishop.

He glanced at the class. “You might remember from the first book that Mac doesn't have a job. And he has a limited skill set. It's either law enforcement or private investigation.”

“Which one does he pick?” the girl persisted.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She thought for a moment. “He liked the military, so I believe he'd become a cop.”

“A case can be made for that,” he said. “But Mac's going into the private sector. Too many rules in police work.”

“There are a lot of similarities between you and Mac.” That was from Glenna. “Do you break the rules, Jack?”

His gaze met Erin's over the heads of the kids and somehow she knew he was remembering the two of them ending up in bed with tangled legs and twisted sheets. Since they'd both ignored the implied guiding principles of a working relationship, that made them equally guilty of breaking the rules.

He smiled, a mysterious expression on his face. “Let's just say you have to know and understand the rules before breaking them.”

“What does that mean—”

The bell sounded and the kids groaned. She caught murmurs of disappointment because some of them still had questions. That had the ring of success to Erin's way of thinking.

“Always leave them wanting more.” Kim laughed. “I'm quite sure that's the first time any of us were sorry to hear the last bell on Friday afternoon. Class, let's give Jack a round of applause. If you're nice, maybe he'll come back and talk to us again.”

“Count on it,” Jack said.

The sound of hands clapping was instantaneous and enthusiastic. He lifted a hand to acknowledge them, then moved to the back of the classroom, where Erin stood waiting. After putting his hand at the small of her back, he quickly ushered her out the rear door before anyone could slow him down with another question.

“That went well,” she said, trying to keep up with his long strides.

“Depends on what you mean by
well
.”

“You really connected with them.”

“That and a buck will get them a soda.”

“You underestimate yourself, Jack.” She glanced up at him, the tight mouth and tense jaw. “You have a lot of wisdom to pass on. It was enlightening for them to know that the choices they make have consequences—some good, some not.”

“Yeah, I'm just a real role model.”

“You're determined not to believe that so I'm not going to waste my breath. But I'll tell you this and I believe it with all my heart—books give you the power to reach people.”

“Right.”

“They picked up on the fact that Mac has a lot of you in him. Through your characters and the truth in your words, you can inspire anyone to do whatever they set their mind to.”

His pace slowed and he dropped his hand. For a moment he met her gaze, then the corners of his mouth turned up. “Good try. But I'm still not ready to let you read everything I've got.”

“I think what we have here is the lesser of two evils.”

“What?”

“Reading your book or the thrift store.”

“Never thought I'd say this without a gun to my head, but let's go shopping.”

Chapter Eleven

“S
o, you've made up your mind about going to the community Halloween party.” Jack glanced over at Erin in the jeep's passenger seat before driving out of the Blackwater Lake High School parking lot.
Go, Wolverines
, he thought as they passed the mascot displayed on the marquee.

“What makes you jump to that conclusion?” she asked.

“Because we're going to the thrift store where Brewster told you to look for a costume. That implies you're planning to go to the party.”

“I am,” she confirmed. “It's like Brewster said—being neighborly is a way of life. So, I want to be a good neighbor. At least while I'm here.”

He kept forgetting that she was leaving. So much for watching his six. He'd better be more vigilant about protecting his perimeter or there would be hell to pay. He'd managed not to kiss her again, which wasn't easy. But necessary. Kissing would lead to sex and he had no doubt that would be as excellent as last time, but no way was it the smart move.

“So why am I shopping with you?” he asked.

“Because we're already here in town. But if you have things to do, we can go back and get my car.” She looked over. “Why? What did you think? That I was going to try and convince you to go to the party?”

That's exactly what he'd thought. “Not if you're smart.”

“Oh, I'm smart.” Her tone was full of brash confidence. “And I'm still going to make a case for why you should go.”

Jack couldn't wait to see what her strategic approach would be. “This is going to be good.”

“I don't know about that, but I agree with Brewster. It's important to support the community where you live. To give back and be a part of it.”

“You don't live here,” he reminded her. And himself.

“For a little while longer, I do.” She was quiet for a moment, probably bringing in reinforcements. “I've always lived in a good-sized city and Blackwater Lake is different. Special. It's actually possible to know everyone in town and they're people worth knowing. Your friend Danny Potter was right. This is the best place in the world. And Brewster is right, too. The magic doesn't work if you don't get involved.”

Damn. That was some serious ammunition she'd hit him with. “Roger that.”

“So, you're going to the party?”

“I'll take it under advisement.”

“You won't regret it, Jack.

Although she was right that he didn't regret talking to the high school class, he wasn't so sure about this.

A few minutes later he pulled into the thrift-store parking lot, a stand-alone building on the outskirts of Blackwater Lake. It looked like a barn and probably had been once, but not now. The outside was painted red with white trim. There was a sign visible from the main road that said all donations welcome. All proceeds went to the Blackwater Lake Sunshine Fund.

That was right up Erin's alley. He didn't know for sure, but wouldn't be surprised if Sunshine was her middle name.

He parked the jeep, noting that there were quite a few cars in the lot. That meant a lot of people inside. Super. They exited the car and approached the wide open door.

“Isn't this place cute?” she said.

“Not the word I would use.”

By the spacious entrance Erin pointed out half barrels overflowing with flowers. An old wood-and-tin washboard propped up against the outside wall. A piece of wooden ladder because everyone knew you couldn't have too many half ladders that were completely useless.

“Looks like junk to me.”

“One man's trash is another man's treasure.”

He looked down at the high color on her cheeks, the excitement in her eyes that made her beautiful. The feeling was like a sucker punch. “Don't you ever get tired of being an optimist?”

She shook her head. “Did you know that it takes more muscles to frown than to smile? You should try it sometime.”

He'd done more of that since she showed up than he could ever remember doing in his whole life. But that information was best kept to himself.

They walked inside and let their eyes adjust to the dimness before glancing around. In his opinion it looked like a hoarder's garage exploded in here. There were mismatched dishes, suitcases, wall hangings, old bottles, a trunk, furniture. And dust. A whole lot of it.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

Jack studied the bright smile of anticipation on her face and decided they should make her president in charge of the Sunshine Fund. He wanted to put on the shades he'd just slid to the top of his head. “Does your cell phone have a GPS tracker?”

“I don't know. Probably. Why?”

“If we get separated, I'll send in search-and-rescue.”

“Very funny.” She tsked. “Come on.”

After moving down a center aisle, where they passed lamps, old toys and more ancient furniture, they found an older woman, somewhere in her late fifties or early sixties, he figured. She was still attractive and had short blond hair and brown eyes. In jeans and a thrift-store T-shirt, she was trim and friendly-looking.

“Erin.” The woman's smile was warm. “Nice to see you.”

“Hi, Aggie.” She looked up at him. “Jack, this is Brewster's wife, Aggie.”

“Ma'am.” He shook the hand she held out and wondered how Erin knew her when he didn't.

As if she could read his mind, Erin said, “Aggie stops by the marina to drop off Brew's lunch when he forgets it.”

“Which is pretty often,” the other woman added.

“When she's there, Jack, you're mostly in hunker-down mode. Or being a hermit. Or both,” Erin commented.

That sounded an awful lot like a challenge. She'd told him talking to people was fun and he should try it sometime. Now was his chance. He could be friendly and charming. It had happened once or twice before.

“It's nice to meet Brewster's better half. And it has to be said...he's a very lucky man.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Garner.”

“Call me Jack.” He smiled, just to show Erin he knew how.

“All right. Jack.” She looked from Erin to him. “So, what brings you out of your cave today?”

The downside of a charm offensive was you had to be sociable and that meant chatting. He caught the expression in Erin's green eyes that dared him to keep this up. So, he would show her.

“As my assistant would tell you, I should be working, but I took time off to talk to Mrs. Miller's honors English class today about writing.”

“Good for you, Jack.” The woman nodded her approval. “Did they give you a hard time? I bet a big, strong guy like you didn't have any problem keeping them in line.”

“Didn't have to. They seemed interested in what I had to say. Asked a lot of questions.”

“That's wonderful.”

“Speaking of questions, I have one. What is the Sunshine Fund?”

“It was Mayor Goodson-McKnight's idea.” Aggie folded her arms over her chest. “It's an account funded by donations to help out a down-on-their-luck citizen or family. A kid who needs help paying for football equipment so he can participate in the sport. Someone out of work who needs groceries or money to pay utilities. The city council pays me to run the thrift store, accept and organize donations. But all proceeds above and beyond overhead go into the fund. In fact a lot of the money is raised by community events.”

“Like the Halloween party?” Erin asked.

“Yes.” Aggie nodded. “There's a small admittance fee and it's a potluck so there's very little operating cost. Folks have fun and money is raised for a good cause. A win-win.”

“Noble undertaking,” Jack agreed.

“You'll be there, won't you?”

“Affirmative.” It would have been like saying no to Mrs. Santa Claus.

“Wonderful. You know it's a costume party,” Aggie said.

“That's why we're here,” he told her.

“Then you're going to want the clothes area,” she suggested. “It's in the back right corner. And if you need any props beyond hats and jewelry, just ask.”

“You can actually find stuff in here?” Jack was skeptical. “Specific items?”

“It may not look that way, but things are organized and I know where everything is.”

“Understood.”

“So, are you two going to do a couples costume? Romeo and Juliet? Caesar and Cleopatra? Beckett and Castle? He's that writer who solves crimes on that TV show. Since you're an author...” The older woman shrugged.

“I love that show,” Erin said.

Jack was glad she fielded that because he was still trying to wrap his mind around the couples-costume remark. Why would she think that?

“We're just going to look around.” Erin grinned, obviously enjoying his version of being a fish out of water.

“Have fun, you two.”

In the back corner they found stands of old clothes, hats and coats. Erin started rummaging through the racks along with several other women. Since no one said hello, he was pretty sure she was not acquainted with them.

She pulled out a dress, then walked over to the headgear section. In front of a full-length mirror she put on a 1930s-era hat. Turning, she said, “I could be Bonnie Parker.”

A young brunette looked up and checked her out. “That would work. And on the men's rack there's a pin-striped suit. You guys could go as Bonnie and Clyde.”

Erin nodded and smiled at the other woman. “Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.”

Over Jack's dead body. No pun intended.

The brunette drifted away but Little Miss Perky kept looking. She pulled a pink satin jacket out and said, “Sandy from the movie
Grease
.”

A familiar redhead moved in from behind him and walked over to check it out. He didn't think Delanie Carlson ever left Bar None. “Hi, Jack.”

“Who let you out?”

“As it happens, I'm the boss. And people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. How did you give your computer the slip?” She smiled at Erin. “He hasn't scared you off yet?”

“I'm made of sterner stuff.”

“Sassy.” Delanie nodded at the pink jacket. “Then Sandy is perfect for you. All Jack needs is a black leather jacket, white T-shirt and a bucket of hair gel to be your Danny Zuko.”

“What makes everyone think we're coordinating costumes?” His charm had one nerve left and this woman had picked a bad time to get on it.

“You're here together, aren't you?” Delanie asked. “That shouts couple to me. Just saying...”

Erin laughed but it sounded strained. “It's not like that. We work together. You could say we're friends. But nothing more.”

“Whatever. None of my business.” Delanie lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“Seriously,” Erin continued. “I won't be here that much longer.”

Couples costumes did not a couple make. They worked together and it was a temporary situation. Yet another reminder was like a bucket of ice water and got his attention. It was easy to slip into complacency but also dangerous. To be a couple you had to live in the same town and they didn't. Geographic distance wasn't an insurmountable problem, but not the only one. It was impossible to be a couple by yourself. He wouldn't participate because he wasn't good at being anyone's significant other. Not even Erin's.

* * *

The Blackwater Lake community costume party was on the Saturday before Halloween. Erin dressed up as Sandy from
Grease
with the pink jacket, crisp white blouse and the tightest pair of black pants she owned since the thrift store was fresh out of leather ones. Go figure. Her hair was pulled up into a sassy ponytail and blond enough with the highlights.

Jack had pulled out his inner juvenile delinquent and put it on display. The leather jacket was battered. His white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest tight enough to make the Pink Ladies swoon. And he hadn't shaved, adding an element of danger to his Danny Zuko, a bad boy in a very good way.

He parked the jeep in the lot behind the community center, next door to city hall, where the mayor's office was located. Looking at Erin he said, “So, our deal is that when I'm bored to tears we can leave, right?”

“You won't be bored.” Please, God, don't let him be bored. This was supposed to be good for him and if he ended up a wallflower it wouldn't be pretty.

“But if I am we can split.” He waited for confirmation.

“There's going to be food, music, dancing. People. Remember them? You're going to have a great time.”

“As you're so good at reminding me, I'm a hermit. Hermits know no one.”

“
Hermit
might be an exaggeration.” But not by a lot.

“No, it's on the mark.” He was staring at the big building with light pouring out of the windows and people moving around inside. “A hermit, by definition, avoids large gatherings. We haven't been spotted. It would be easy to turn around and leave. No one would even notice—”

“Bite your tongue, Jack Garner. That's crazy talk. And, dare I say it? Cowardly.”

“I can live with that.”

Probably he could. He was a hero in the noblest sense and had served his country with distinction. There was nothing to prove. But she wanted this for him. “I already paid for our admittance.”

“What if I pay you back?”

“Here's an idea. Take a risk. And look at it this way—when tonight is over you'll realize that no harm was done in this socialization experiment.”

“What about my ego?”

“It's so big you won't even miss a little bit if you're dinged.”

“Ouch.” He opened the driver's side door. “This is a tough crowd. I think I'll take my chances with the hostiles.”

“That's the spirit.” She slid out, then opened the rear passenger door to retrieve the batch of four-cheese macaroni she'd made. “Love the optimism, by the way.”