Falling (14 page)

JASON

The First Time This Kind of Thing Hasn’t Made me Totally Paranoid

Dana looks unusually nice today, which makes me immediately suspicious. I really should be watching her, but my ex-wife is taking inventory in what used to be
our
place.

It’s times like this that make it really shitty to not have the ability to call in sick. The lodge needs me whether I want to be here or not. I’m suddenly sure she came on the weekend on purpose, knowing I wouldn’t have time to watch over her. With me stuck in the kitchen, instead of in
my
apartment, there’s no way to be subtle about checking up on Cass.

Dana walks into the kitchen then with two more orders. Her shirt is definitely an inch or two higher than normal, and I swear her jeans are lower. No one could ignore that. I work to focus on her face as we speak, but I have to steal a few glances at her flat stomach. She works hard for it. I hope she doesn’t notice my brief glances because she definitely doesn’t need any more fuel for her ego.

She’s standing here looking at me expectantly. Has she asked me something? I don’t want to let on that I don’t know what she’s talking about so I snatch the orders out of her hand.

“What’s with you today?” I ask as I turn back toward the stove.

“I could ask you the same question. Though, I guess it should be obvious.” She jerks her head toward my door. “And…nothing’s up with me.” She smiles an all too innocent smile and bats her lashes.

I half turn from the stove and gesture from her head to her feet with my spatula. She looks down at herself, smiles, shrugs, and walks back out to the tables—coffee in one hand, water in the other. There is
no way
she didn’t spend extra time getting ready today.

Now that I’m watching her walk away from me, spatula still in hand, it’s not her stomach that’s the most distracting thing. It’s definitely that small exposed part of her lower back. I can see the curve, and can’t keep myself from imagining running my hands across her smooth skin and then down…
Okay, Jason. Stop.

At least she can’t see me staring from this angle. She disappears to the end of tables past the corner where I can watch. Cass comes into view too close, and I have to keep myself from jumping. I was really lost there for a minute. Though, it was kind of a nice place to be lost in. I flip over the pancakes just in time to keep them from burning.

I glance Cass’s direction and try to look bored. She’s holding up a small lace thong that I’m sure I’ve never seen before, though I could probably imagine it on someone.

“Jason.” Her voice makes it sound like she’s called my name more than once. I have to get a grip. “You’re going to have to talk to your sister.”

I grin. She thinks they’re Justine’s. Cass assumes that I haven’t had any girls around. Which I haven’t but… I stand there dumbfounded, and staring at Cass with what must be an odd expression. Where
did
the panties come from?

Cass’s brows go up another notch.

“Oops! Sorry!” Dana half sings from the kitchen entrance. She tries to look embarrassed and totally fails. Probably on purpose. “Those are mine.” She smiles at Cass, grabs the panties, and stuffs them in her back pocket. She looks up at me and smiles her best mischievous smile.

It’s the first time I’ve let myself enjoy that particular look from her. Today it’s for my benefit—most days it just makes me nervous.

Dana leans in and puts her arm behind me to get something off the counter. She lets her body press up against mine in the process. Now’s my chance to touch her back. Before she moves away. I have to do it now, while we’re still playing this game. I finally find my arm. I reach forward as she turns and touch her in that curved space I’ve been staring at since she arrived. She doesn’t flinch at all. And her skin is like warm silk under my fingers. Damn.

Dana stands up tall, smiles again, and I let my fingers slide away as she leaves the kitchen. I forget about Cass. I forget about the spatula in my hand. All of it disappears, just like that. Just over a small strip of warm, soft skin and my imagination running away with the little lace thong in her pocket. It all happens in a second, but there’s no mistaking the unpleasant look from Cass’s face.

“Pancakes,” Cass says, her voice flat.

“Oh, shit.” I say under my breath as I turn to eight blackened lumps on the stovetop. I pitch them and start over.

“That.” Cass points back and forth between me and where Dana disappeared around the corner. Her face is disapproving, but I know her well enough to know that the little interchange got to her.

I hate to admit this, but I’m glad. She’s pulled so much crap…

“That doesn’t seem like you.”

I look at Cass with what I hope is a relaxed smile and shrug. Cass leans against the counter, folding her arms. She wants an explanation.

Dana is back in just minutes. “I know it’s early, but…” She opens the fridge casually, around the side of Cass and pulls out a beer. She easily pops the top off on the counter and takes a long drink. It’s impressive for a girl who didn’t actually drink beer when she arrived. “You look like you could use one, too.” She hands me the bottle and steps behind me for paper towel on the counter. She grabs my ass, as if she’s trying to be discreet, though it isn’t discreet at all. I laugh a little as I watch that smooth curve of skin walk back out of the kitchen. Dana is pretty unbelievable.

“This is ridiculous.” Cass shakes her head and starts back toward our apartment.
My
apartment.

“What’s ridiculous Cass…” I’m annoyed. “…is you coming up here on what you know is going to be a busy weekend to dig through stuff you’ve already
sorted
!”

I pull eight unburned pancakes off the griddle with satisfaction just as she slams the door. As often as Dana’s aloofness and overconfidence has irritated and annoyed me, it sure is working in my favor today. I’m gonna have to talk to her about the T-shirt though, it’s way too distracting.

Dana pops back minutes later and puts a few dishes into the washer.

“What exactly are you doing?” I ask. I tip the bottle up and drink a few swallows. I’m already more relaxed, which makes me wonder why I’m not starting more days off this way.

“I’m just having a little fun.” She stands too close, takes the beer from my hand and drinks. I think about touching her back, and I want to do it again. As I look down at her face, I realize she’s the “weekend girl” right now. She’s impossible to read when she’s like this. She rests her weight on one side—shifting her hip over and making her waist show even more curve.

“No one’s here to see you flirting with me right now.” I tilt my head so I can look up at her.

“Nope.” She smiles. “Just you.” Does that mean she wants me to know she’s flirting with me? Or is she just messing with me?

Shit. I’m starting to really like her. Not just attracted to her, like most men probably are, but really like her. I stand still for a breath longer. One part of me wants to grab her exposed sides and kiss her, and the other part, the smarter part, turns and starts wiping counters down instead.

“Yeah. I think you’re having way too much fun,” I say. It seems safe enough.

She just laughs and disappears again. Her happy voice carries into the kitchen as she talks with one of the regular groups of guys. I stop my job and take a deep breath, leaning against the counter. What the hell am I thinking?

After lunch rush is over, the place is quiet in our afternoon slump. Cass is still poking around in our room, and I’m finishing dishes. Dana walks back into the kitchen, and I have to shake my head at her, but it’s hard to contain my smile. 

“Sorry, too much?” Only her smirk makes me know that she enjoyed every second of it.

“What if I was trying to get her back or if I was trying to get along or something?” I ask.

“You’re not trying to get her back, I can tell. If you
did
want her back, you could get her. Anything I may or may not be doing would only help that cause. I don’t think she’s moved on as much as she thinks she has. Also, I don’t think you care whether you’re getting along or not.” Dana rests a hand on the counter.

“You think you have this all figured out, don’t you?” I’m watching her carefully for any kind of reaction.

“Nope. Just her.
You’re
still a mystery,” she teases.

“Seriously, what’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had?” I ask as I start to prep for dinner.

“A
real
one? Aside from Clive? Three months or so.” She shrugs.

That figures.

“Three months? And you’re the relationship expert?” I ask wondering who this Clive person is because his name’s been mentioned more than once.

“Let’s just say that I know what I don’t want.” She smiles and hoists herself onto the countertop.

“And what’s that?” I ask.

“Married,” she whispers. “Spoiled, whiny or someone who doesn’t know what they want.”

“So…you don’t want
you
.” I know she won’t be offended. We’ve talked too much.

“Be nice.” Her eyes narrow, but the corners of her mouth are turned up.

“I’m just sayin’…” I turn away from her then and continue working. She’s a lot more fun when we’re getting along. I’m suddenly glad Cass showed up. Almost.

Another group comes in the front door and Dana jumps off the counter to greet them. I swear she has fun out here. Though, it probably has as much to do with the attention she gets as anything else. I should probably keep that in mind.

Dana hovers close to me all weekend. We get looks from more than just Cass.

On Sunday night I know I can’t avoid the conversation forever so I head into my apartment to talk to my soon to be ex-wife. Maybe she already is my ex-wife. I don’t know. I’m not good with dates. When I walk in she’s stuffing one of my sweatshirts into the large pack she brought with her. I start to protest, but it just isn’t worth it.

“So, you and Dana, huh?” She zips up her pack and looks at me as if she doesn’t believe it.

“Does it matter?” I try to look bored.

“Not anymore.” Cass is trying to look hard. Why does she do this? I don’t know. We used to be good friends. This sucks.

“You know we could get along. Be nice to one another. We were friends for a long time before we got together.” Cass, Boz, and I were the best threesome ever. That’s what we’d always say as kids. I thought marrying her would be the safest thing.

“I don’t want to get back together, Jason.” She looks at me with this narrow-eyed, mean, spiteful look I’ve gotten used to from her. She stands up and shifts her pack up on her shoulder.

“That’s not what I’m asking for, Cass.” I sigh. “I don’t want
us
anymore. It’s too exhausting. But it would be nice if you could come up here and leave your bitchy attitude at home.” I’m just tired of this. Tired of the fighting. There’s really no reason we can’t be civil. She got everything she asked for in the divorce and whatever she stuffed in her pack over the weekend as well.

“Screw you, Jason.”

“Fine.” I shake my head. This woman has taken more emotional energy than I thought I had to give.

She starts toward the door.

“Aren’t you going to take the couch? The sink? The bed?” I shouldn’t be acting snide right now, but I can’t help it. I’m mad. I came in here to be nice. I’ve actually been nothing but nice for months. It just goes to show that we’re still at that point where one wrong word is bound to set the other one off.

She slams the door on her way out, and I’m certain I won’t be seeing her anymore this weekend. It’s a relief. I throw a couple of logs into the stove. The fire always casts a nice light into this room. It’s good for writing. Not too light, not too dark.

I pop open another beer, not wanting to think about how many it’s taken me to get through the day and pull out my laptop. But instead of jumping back into writing, I sit in the near dark wondering what the hell I’m going to do about my reaction to a smooth strip of skin attached to a girl I have no business being attracted to.