The Last Bride (DiCarlo Brides #6) (26 page)

After dinner at Gage’s that night, and learning about the sabotage at work and the murder, Jonquil settled with him on the sofa and took his mind off his troubles, arguing sports with him and the basketball commentator on television. They snuggled together discussing their favorite players, segued into the ins and out of baseball and the designated hitter rule. They each took turns talking about their favorite games from their high school days. And she had to bring their kisses to an end several times when things were headed toward a serious conflagration.

When she was starting to get sleepy, despite the fact that her watch said it was barely ten, she decided she better get home before his kisses convinced her otherwise. “I better clear out. We both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” She sat up and reached for her shoes, which she had kicked off hours earlier.

“I wish you wouldn’t.” His words were low and earnest.

She slid her right foot into the shoes and reached for the second one. “I’m wiped. It’s been a long day.”

“You know what I mean.”

She slid on the second shoe, then turned to face him. “Yeah, I do.”

“So stay. Who’s going to care?”

Jonquil’s heart pounded as she tried to put this into words and hoped he would get what she was saying. “It’s probably been the worst week of your entire life and you don’t know what you want from me. From us. I want more than this. A lot more than this, but I can’t give it to you if you’re going to wake up in a couple of weeks and realize you only slept with me because you were desperate for something, for someone when life turned upside down. I,” she couldn’t say she loved him, not now when it would make him turn and run the other way. “I don’t have to have a lifetime commitment from you or anything, but I need to know that you’re in it because you want to be, and not just because I’m convenient.” Her heart broke even as she said the words.

He shifted back, anger making his face harden. “Convenient? You think I’m playing games with you?”

She shook her head, being careful about her words. “No. You don’t play games. But that doesn’t mean that you know what you want at the moment, does it? If you’re not sure you’re ready to be in a real relationship, then this is all we can be.” She stood and faced him, stepping back so he wouldn’t feel like she was towering above him. “I may be resilient, but even I have my limits. So I’ll be here for you, but until you’ve had time to put the funeral behind you, to decide where you stand on
us
, I’m not sleeping with you.” Jonquil turned and picked up her purse from the edge of the counter where she’d set it when she’d come in earlier.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Yeah. I can bring something for dinner again, if you want. It probably won’t be this fancy.” She looked over her shoulder at him.

He still slumped on the sofa where she’d left him. “I think I’d like that.”

Jonquil smiled. “Okay. Have a good night.” She turned and walked out the front door before he decided to stop her for another goodbye kiss. One more and she might just burst into flames.

Angela was sitting at the kitchen counter, dipping a cookie into a bowl of Häagen-Dazs instead of using a spoon when Jonquil got home. “Hey, long-time no-see,” Angela greeted her.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you’d be home already. You must have booked it over after your performance tonight.” Jonquil hooked her purse on the back of a chair at the bar. “Were you hoping to see Alex? He leaves in the morning. How did your date go, anyway?”

Angela frowned. “I thought things were going fine, but he got some emergency call and ducked out in the middle. At least that’s what he said.” She frowned into the pint of ice cream. “Are all guys jerks?”

“I honestly have no idea.” Jonquil slid onto the seat beside her sister, picked up one of the Oreos from the plate between them and twisted it open. “Other than the thing with Alex, are you enjoying it here?”

“Yeah, what’s not to like? Free room and board, an endless supply of ice cream in the freezer. You’re never home, so it’s not like I have to deal with
you
, right?” her words were light and airy, but hurt lingered in her eyes.

Guilt swamped Jonquil. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been unbelievably crazy.”

“And you want to spend every minute with Gage. It’s a rough time for him and you’re in love with him, so I’m surprised you bother to come home at night.”

“We’re definitely not serious enough for overnights. Why would you think that?”

Angela shot her a disbelieving look. “Come on. Once you stopped ignoring each other the chemistry went off the hook, and you came home tonight with hair that’s a total mess. Seriously, doesn’t he own a comb or something?”

Jonquil touched her hair, which had been back in an elastic when she’d gone to his place, but she’d pulled it out while they talked in front of the game. “We didn’t do anything,” she said as she slid the elastic from her wrist back onto her hair.

Angela eyed her. “Right. That’s why your lips are kind of puffy? Because you were sweet angels?”

Jonquil smiled a little despite herself. He was an incredible kisser. “So we kissed, a lot. That’s all. And why do you care? I thought you were over him.”

“Totally over him, but really, you just kissed?” She lifted her brows in disbelief.

“Yes.” Jonquil stared at the cookie in her hands, which she hadn’t even tasted yet. “Okay, so the chemistry is… wow. But he doesn’t want a real relationship, so that’s where it ends.”

“I’m not dating someone like that. If he’s not sure, then I’ll kick him to the curb.”

Jonquil smiled. “Sometimes life surprises you. Just don’t be shocked when it throws you for a loop.”

“Whatever. You must be delirious from exhaustion and too many kisses if that’s what you think. Go to bed, will you? I have to be up before noon tomorrow. I need my beauty rest.”

Jonquil scowled at her sister. She had several hours’ worth of reports to hassle over the next day and would be halfway through her ten-hour day before noon. “You’re a brat. Thanks for reminding me; I’d almost forgotten that about you.”

Angela just smirked.

Jonquil hid her smile as she stood. “Don’t have too much ice cream or you might not fit into that costume anymore.” She bit half of the cookie top as she headed for the basement stairs.

“No worries there. Now if Mr. Checketts would just remember me in it. Life would be good. He lives only about a mile from my apartment in Chicago, you know?”

Jonquil managed not to frown. He walked out in the middle of a date with her sister and she was still thinking about him? This was not good. “You deserve better than that. And you rocked the costume—half the men in the room were eating out of your hands.”

“That’s the idea.” Her eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Gage was one of them.”

“I hope not or I’d have to kill him.” Jonquil wasn’t worried about that, not now, anyway. No, she was far more concerned that her own self-control would slip before he was able to get his life back under control. She couldn’t risk that final corner of her heart to him, not if there wasn’t a good chance he’d reciprocate.

And he’d made it plenty clear earlier that he wasn’t looking at picket fences in their future. Not that she wanted a white picket fence. His fence suited her much better.

Gage worked hard over the next couple of days, trying to keep his business running during the day, checking on Natalie—who spent every waking moment with one or another of her friends—and finalizing details for the funeral. He enjoyed Jonquil’s company for dinner and a movie the next night with Jeremy and Delphi in tow.

He wasn’t sure if she had invited the second couple to join them because they were friends, or because she was trying to limit alone time with him. And he didn’t know which he wanted to be true. He just knew that being with her every evening and their goodnight kisses had him thinking twice about staying single. And that unsettled him more than it should have.

His mind wandered to her often. There was no question that he enjoyed her company, that his life was better with her in it, but something inside him still told him to keep things casual, that he didn’t want to get sucked in. And yet, how could he not be?

The cursor blinked at him on the computer, impatient for the next word to be typed on his email. He made himself focus back on work—there was more than enough of it to be done.

“Gage, hello?”

It was Natalie, standing in the door to his office looking très chic in one of her designer suits. He sat back in his chair, smiling to see her looking so well.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. How are you doing? I’ve left a few messages but you haven’t gotten back to me.” His gaze drifted down to her wrists and he frowned a little at the fuzzy bracelet things she wore. Not that he blamed her for wanting to cover her injuries, but he wondered how bad they really were. He reached out and took her hand, pushing back the bracelet and turning her wrist so he could see the back. The rope burn was healing nicely—a wonderful miracle so soon after everything. “Glad to see you’re healing so fast.”

“Fast? There’s no way I’m going to be able to wear the diamond tennis bracelet for my date with Eric tomorrow night.” She frowned. “Or in the next few weeks, probably. Every time I see them I think of how they got that way.”

He pulled her in for a hug. “I’m just glad that you weren’t hurt worse. Delphi’s wrists don’t look half as good as yours, and they’re weeks older.”

Natalie sighed. “You have a point. Sorry about not calling back. I texted you. It’s just that I’ve been busy talking with Mom’s friends at the club. They all need to talk about her as much as I do. It’s been good for me.” She touched the corner of her eye with the back of her finger and it came away with a tear. “Anyway, the electric bill came for the house today. I thought you could see that the estate pays it.” She passed it over. “Or maybe you can help out and take care of it. Mother always handled these things.”

Gage frowned. That brought up an issue they needed to discuss, though he hadn’t intended to broach it until after the funeral on Monday. “Take a seat, would you? We need to talk about money.”

Her hands fluttered a little and she clasped them in front of her. “Oh, do we have to? I’m meeting the girls at the club for lunch in twenty minutes. They’ve been so supportive and understanding.”

“I’ll keep it short, but here’s the deal.” It had to be discussed, though she never had liked discussing money—unless someone was offering her some. “The funeral is paid for but mom’s car was new and I checked, it’ll barely sell for what’s owed on it. Which is okay, because at least we aren’t upside down. There’s a lot of equity in the house, but the accountant says that there’s another ten years on the mortgage and the payments are pretty hefty.”

Natalie stared at him. “But they’ve owned it since before I was born. How can it still have a mortgage?”

“Dad refinanced when he invested in some mining operation in South Africa. He lost a lot of money. The mortgage balance is well over half a million. The place will have to be sold.”

She sank into the seat across from him, looking a little sick. “But what about the estate? The money mom was living off of? The life insurance?”

He squeezed his hands in his lap, hating that Natalie had gone pale. “There will be huge medical bills, Natalie. She had brain surgery and spent nearly two days in ICU. And she had personal debts. There will be money left over, but definitely not enough to pay off the house.”

“But can’t we just keep paying the mortgage on it? I mean, we can do that, between us, right?” Natalie’s voice started to rise in pitch.

“No.” Gage fought to keep his voice even, knowing his sister had already been through too much. “The mortgage is in Mom’s and Dad’s names. They’re gone, so it has to be paid off, sold or refinanced. There’s no other option. Since you have too many issues with your credit, I don’t think you’ll be able to get a loan that size on your own.”

“But if you co-signed—”

“No.” The word seemed to echo in the room, though he’d said it in a low voice.