Designed for Love (7 page)

Jillian suspected there were several parallels between Bill’s life and Wil’s. Except from what she’d gathered, it was Wil’s mother who had left. She recalled the flash of sadness when Rose mentioned her parents’ split.

“Were you and Bill good friends?”

“Oh, yeah. After Nancy moved away, Billy was my only friend for a while.”

“Really?” Though Wil’s tone was light, it felt false, and Jillian could sense the loneliness she tried to cover. Wil was attractive and magnetic, and Jillian had difficulty imagining her so solitary.

Wil’s right hand rested on the gearshift between them, her other draped over the steering wheel, and she stared straight ahead. “Yeah. I went to school with the same kids from kindergarten on. You wouldn’t think it would matter how much money my family had. Or didn’t have.”

“It was really a big deal? This doesn’t seem like the type of town where wealth is important. It’s too idyllic.”

“It’s not Mayberry. We have our share of problems.”

Jillian laughed. “Yeah, like what? There’s no traffic, no crime, everyone knows everyone else—”

“Exactly. So everybody was fully aware that, while my classmates were shopping and hanging out at the diner all summer, I was building additions to their houses, putting on new roofs, and unstopping their toilets. Because, after all, nothing was beneath us at Johnson and Son.”

Wil bitterly ground out her last words, then clenched her jaw shut, a muscle jumping with the effort.

“And look at you now.”

“Most of the time, I don’t feel any different than I did then.”

Jillian didn’t understand the point in holding on to that past resentment. If someone didn’t think she was good enough, well—screw them. She knew who she was, and she’d never let anyone convince her otherwise.

Chapter Five

“Are you sure I can’t do something to help?” Jillian called from a chair at Rose’s dining-room table. Though it was just the two of them, Rose had laid out matching white chinaware and polished silver on the starched linen tablecloth.

Rose entered from the kitchen with a bowl of mashed potatoes. “That’s okay, dear, I’ve got it.”

“At least let me carry something.” When she returned to the kitchen, Jillian followed.

“Okay, I’ll get the dinner rolls from the oven. You take this.” Rose handed her a platter piled with thick slices of roast beef.

“You have a beautiful home. You must have many happy memories here,” Jillian said as they sat down.

Rose smiled. “Yes. We had some lovely times. But the marks of my daughter’s growth on the bedroom doorjamb and the loose board in the hallway that creaked every time she tried to sneak out aren’t exactly big selling points.”

“Well, I think they are. Not in the traditional sense, maybe. But this house has history, and with that beautiful yard out back, your target buyer is a young family who will make their own memories.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

They passed dishes back and forth until both of their plates were filled. The aroma of roast beef and rich gravy mingled with fresh-baked rolls that Jillian would bet were made from scratch.

“Are you looking forward to spending more time with your family?” Jillian took a bite. “This is delicious.”

“Yes. I have three great-grandchildren. And for so many years it was just my daughter and I. It will be nice to have family around.”

“It must have been difficult raising a child on your own.”

Despite a few rough patches, Jillian’s parents were still together, and she couldn’t imagine her mother trying to cope alone. Her parents had sacrificed a lot of time to provide her and her brother with their upper-middle-class lifestyle. As a surgeon, her father had been away often during her upbringing, leaving her mother, an obstetrician, with the bulk of the child-rearing responsibilities. But he’d done his part financially, which enabled them to hire a nanny to supplement her mother’s unpredictable schedule.

“Single parenthood definitely wasn’t as prevalent as it is now. As a high school math teacher, I didn’t make much money, so we had some lean times.”

“Wasn’t Aunt Mary a teacher too?”

Rose nodded. “For several years until she married. Her husband didn’t want her to work.”

“I only met him once. My mother isn’t close to that side of her family. She never understood what Aunt Mary found so appealing about small-town living.” Jillian recalled her mother’s numerous derisive comments about her Southern ancestors. “As the years passed, their visits with one another grew fewer and farther between.”

“As often happens, people grow apart.” Sadness colored Rose’s words, but before Jillian could question it, Rose stood and began to stack their plates. “Would you like a slice of pie? Coffee?”

“That sounds great.”

“It’s a beautiful night. Why don’t we take our dessert on the back porch and watch the sun set?”

Rose waved off Jillian’s offer to wash the dishes, insisting she would do it later. So, instead, they settled on the porch, sipped coffee, and enjoyed fresh peach pie.

Jillian stared at the night sky and wondered whether she could see this many stars in Cincinnati, or if she’d just never bothered to look. Though the days were warm and humid, the nights were still cool and the air felt crisp. Crickets had replaced the sounds of the city. Normally a driven person, Jillian wouldn’t have thought she could enjoy sitting still so much. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent an entire evening socializing. When she didn’t skip her meals altogether, she either combined them with client meetings or ate on the run. She hoarded what little free time she did have, often taking a quick jog through her neighborhood to clear her head. But the pace of life was slower in Redmond. Maybe she should embrace the opportunity to relax, because she wouldn’t have that chance when she returned home.

*

“Andy, bring me some more water, will you?” Wil passed her Nalgene bottle over her shoulder.

“Sure thing, boss.” Andy squeezed Wil’s shoulder and bounded down the stairs toward a large orange cooler of water on the open tailgate of Wil’s truck.

Andy had been on Wil’s crew the longest of the three women. In fact, they had gone to high school together, though they hadn’t hung out with each other then. Andy was the star player on the basketball team and had run with the popular crowd. When a knee injury blew her college scholarship, she had applied for work with Johnson and Son. Wil had been heading a crew of men at the time, and Bud had assigned Andy to work with her. Since then, as each of the men left the company, a woman had replaced him, at Wil’s request. She preferred not to deal with the egos of men who didn’t want to work for a woman.

They’d spent their first morning at Jillian’s removing the appliances and starting to tear out the countertops and cabinets. Now they scattered across Jillian’s front porch with their lunches spread out in front of them. Wil sat on the top step with her back pressed against the railing and her legs stretched out in front of her.

A few feet away, Andy’s cousin, Tracy, sat cross-legged in the shade. The two women looked alike, with dark hair and skin, but their resemblance ended there. Andy’s brown eyes were warm and friendly, whereas Tracy’s, a shade deeper, were usually shadowed and secretive. Six months ago, when they’d lost a member of their crew, Wil had hired Tracy as a favor to Andy, but Tracy’s quiet nature made her hard to get to know. Over time, Tracy had begun to open up, even smiling once in a while. Her grin transformed her face, lighting up her features and bringing out matching dimples.

Andy’s partner, Patti, sat on the bottom step mirroring Wil’s position. Patti was knowledgeable and hardworking, but most of all, her patience tempered Andy’s excitable nature.

Andy stepped over Wil’s legs and settled on the floor between them.

“Jillian Sealy sure is hot,” Andy said as she unwrapped her sandwich. Patti gave her a sharp look. “What? You know you have my heart, but, come on, she is. I wonder what her deal is.”

Wil ignored her, pretending to be engrossed in her potato chips.

“Wil, what do you think?”

“Huh?” Wil stalled.

“What do you know about Jillian?”

“Nothing, really.” Wil and Andy had been friends for a long time, ever since they mutually decided they were incompatible as a couple. She knew Andy better than anyone else, which was probably why she hesitated to talk about Jillian. Andy loved good gossip, even when she herself was involved. It had taken only a day for word of Wil and Andy’s split to spread around town. And Wil didn’t want what had transpired between her and Jillian taking the same route.

“Come on, Wil. I heard you’ve been over to Rose Beam’s with her and down to the hardware store. What did you two talk about?”

“About her plans for the house.” Wil let her displeasure with Andy’s prying seep into her voice.

“Andy, leave her alone,” Patti warned, but Andy persisted.

“But is she a lesbian? Single?”

Wil balled her napkin and shoved it into her lunch bag. She stood and scowled down at Andy. “How about less talking and more eating, so we can get back to work.” Wil strode down the steps toward her truck before Andy could respond, and she couldn’t hear what she muttered to Patti.

Wil had just stowed her empty bag in her truck when she spotted Jillian walking up the sidewalk toward her. She slipped her sunglasses from her pocket and put them on before allowing her eyes to roam the length of Jillian’s body. Pressed khaki slacks covered her long legs, but they would feel lean and strong wrapped around Wil. A sudden breeze molded Jillian’s light cotton blouse to her torso, and the sensation of her breasts seemed to be burned into Wil’s palms. She curled her fingers into fists and deliberately tried to replace her awareness with indifference.

“Did you have a nice walk?” Already losing her fight, she stepped closer.

“Yes. I met Rose at the diner for lunch.”

Wil shook her head. “I don’t know how you can eat there every day.”

Jillian laughed and patted her stomach. “I’m going to gain thirty pounds before the house is ready.”

“Oh, now, I know better than to say something like that to a woman.”

“You didn’t have to say it. I did.” Jillian had never been a creature of habit, but the familiar faces and the heavy cooking smells as she walked in the diner were oddly comforting. She glanced toward the house. “Are you making progress?”

“Yeah. We’re on track. What are you going to do this afternoon?” Wil raised her hand as if she wanted to touch Jillian’s arm, then let it drop back to her side.

Suddenly, the only thing Jillian wanted to do was spend more time with Wil. “I don’t know. What are you guys doing? Do you need any help?”

Wil gave a halfhearted smile, and Jillian was irritated that the sunglasses prevented her from seeing if it changed her eyes. Jillian imagined that if she could see them they would still be arctic and emotionless. She wondered if she would be so bothered by that thought if she hadn’t already seen them bright with desire.

“I agreed to let you work on your projects at the same time. But I can’t let you work
with
us.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, my father would have a fit. Besides, that’s why you’re paying us. By tomorrow we’ll have the kitchen completely gutted. We’ll spend the rest of the week pushing out that wall and installing the new window in the breakfast nook. Next week I’ll give you one day if you want to paint before we install the new cabinets.”

“That would be easier than painting around them.” Jillian made a mental note to go back down to the hardware store and buy the paint and supplies. “Your crew seems great. I get the impression you’re all close.”

“Andy and I are—friends. And she and Patti are together. I don’t know Tracy very well, but Andy says she’s good people.”

“A whole crew of lesbians?”

Wil shook her head. “Tracy’s straight. Recently divorced.” Wil glanced toward the porch where the girls were cleaning up the remains of their lunch. “We better get back to work.”

Jillian stood on the sidewalk as Wil quickly took the steps to the front porch. As she approached the other women, she pulled a small notebook out of her pocket and flipped it open. Though Jillian could hear the low timbre of Wil’s voice, she wasn’t close enough to hear her words. But her attention was focused on Wil’s long fingers as they gestured toward the paper. The women listened carefully and nodded in respectful agreement.

She’d already decided that Wil was competent and dedicated. And judging from her suggestions at the hardware store, she could complement Jillian’s vision for the finished renovation. Jillian was glad she hadn’t let a night’s indiscretion interfere with their professional relationship.

*

A generic country band competed with the din of conversation and laughter throughout the darkened interior of Rambles Ranch. But sitting at the bar with her back to the crowd, Wil ignored the noise. She swirled three swallows of amber liquid in her mug and thought she should probably just finish her beer and go home. Not in the mood for company, she’d avoided making eye contact with anyone but the bartender. The only reason she’d even come out was because she’d grown tired of restlessly prowling her house and replaying intimate moments with Jillian.