Make me fall, p.3
Make Me Fall, page 3
A tinkling bell announced his presence and he glanced around at the vacant store. Once again, he spotted Bridget at the side of the counter. This time, however, instead of peering at a computer screen, she was lining up labels on a tray of plastic jars in front of her. She sat up and a polite smile crossed her face.
“Hello, again,” Jack said as he loitered like an awkward doofus by the door. Her hair was down today and those heavy curls fell halfway down her back. So that was how long it was. He liked it. The spirals were glossy and fell in stunning waves and coils, each with a mind of its own. The overall effect framed her face in a soft embrace before sliding around her shoulders.
“Hey there. You’re back.” She stood and he let his eyes trace the lithe form of her body.
The leggings and tunic sweater hugged her outline, emphasizing the ripe curves of her breasts and hips. Jack curled his fingers to keep his hands to himself. Jesus, but she was alluring. And he did not need that in his life. Romance only led to what his money could bring to the relationship. No woman had ever wanted him just for him. Why would this one be any different? Of course, he was incognito and hadn’t blown his cover so far. She didn’t seem to recognize him, but his face was often in magazines and some females were better liars than others. Clearing his throat, he said, “Cornelius told me you might have something for sore muscles?”
She nodded and those curls danced with the movement. “Over here.” She gestured and walked to a table on the right. He joined her as she lifted up a pale purple container. “Our Saving Salve Muscle Easer is the one the other loggers swear by.”
As Jack took it, their fingers tangled for a few scant seconds. Despite the brief contact, he felt the impact all the way down his spine. His breath stuttered as he stared into her eyes, an emerald green so deep he’d only seen the like when he’d visited Ireland a few years back. The open, rolling hills matched their color exactly. “Irish green.”
A line appeared between her delicately arched brows. “Pardon?”
The tips of his ears grew hot and Jack was grateful for the beard he hoped was covering his embarrassed flush. Clearing his throat, he said, “Your eyes. They’re the same color as the hills in Ireland.”
Now her cheeks tinted a flower petal shade of pink. “Oh.”
How was it possible she kept getting lovelier? That sweet flush of hers crept down to her neck and Jack wondered what it would take to get the pink to spread all the way down to her breasts. The resulting vision had his pants becoming uncomfortably tight. “Have you ever been?” He cast about for anything to distract his train of thoughts and the bodily reaction from them. “To Ireland?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful, but I don’t really have time to take a vacation.” She gestured around them. “The shop and all. Makes it hard to get away.”
“You don’t have other employees?”
“Just Gran and me. Helps keep overhead costs down, you know?”
“But surely you could hire one more person. Didn’t Cornelius say you make all of the products for the store, too? Two people can’t do all of this.”
Her smile turned sardonic. “Oh, but two people can. My cousin Becca helps out, too. She runs a farm that gives us our milk for the goat’s milk soap and a lot of the oils we mix in come from plants she grows. She makes some of the products for us. All of us were taught how.” Bridget stepped back, her expression shifting into a mask of polite professionalism. “Anyway. Was that all you needed?”
He let the subject go. She didn’t owe explanations to a stranger. “I think so. Unless you have anything else that helps aching muscles?”
Nodding at the shelf next to the register, she said, “This chamomile and yarrow root tea might give some additional relief, too. Let it steep for at least four minutes to let the leaves really release their essence.”
“I’ll do that.” He dipped his chin once at her. “That cream for my beard worked wonders. I put it on the first night and like magic, it stopped itching.”
“Plants can do a whole lot more than most people realize,” she spoke, her words rushed. “Once a day should help keep the hair soft to prevent the irritation from returning. Nothing magic about it.”
“Well, all I know is it worked.” He paid and his gaze lingered on the full curve of her lower lip. He wondered if she would like it if he captured it between his teeth. Swallowing hard, he grabbed his small bag. “Thanks again, Bridget. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Come back any time.” She lifted a hand in goodbye. “See you, Jack.”
* * * *
An afternoon off was a luxury Bridget had intended to enjoy, yet she found herself working anyway. Taking advantage of the sunshine that would soon be swept away by usual clouds and drizzle that heralded in October in the Pacific Northwest, she spent the time in her garden. She cut back her sunflowers and roses, weeded the ground between plants, raided her herbs that were ready to be harvested of leaves and seeds and trimmed back her multiple varieties of mint plants to keep those from taking over everything. She had to get more products ready for the store and also the upcoming festival she was showcasing at this weekend. No rest for her.
Instead she ground up plants, pressed leaves for oils and mixed ingredients together to create her most popular lotions, soaps and salves. Then she hung more flowers and plant trimmings in her shed and took down dried ones to create more teas. By the time she was done, the sky was streaked with pinks and oranges as the sun dipped closer to the horizon. As she walked back into her house, the scent of chili and spices tickled her nose. Giving the chili a quick stir, she frowned. Why did she make such a big pot? It was just her and even freezing half of it would be more than enough to get her through the colder months. Maybe…
She walked back outside to her side fence, stepped on a tall rock, and peeked over. “Hey, Cor. Want dinner? I made chili.” She’d heard his truck rumble up not long ago and took a chance that he might be relaxing on his back porch. They often chatted through the slats on nice days.
He grinned at her. “I’d never say no to that. Only—”
His back door swung open and Bridget jerked in surprise. Did he have company? Was it a…date?
Jack Thompson stepped out holding two beers and a bottle opener.
“Oh,” she squeaked.
Jack looked over at the fence, his own surprise evident on his face. “Uh, hey.”
“Hi.” She darted her eyes between the two guys. “What’re you doing at Cornelius’ house? Wait, that was weird and not my business. I’m just going to go back inside.” She hopped down from the rock but froze at Cornelius’ yelp.
“No way! I’m not passing up homemade dinner. Especially not your chili. We’ll be right there, little B!” A scuffling sounded, then Cornelius called, “Jack, grab another beer. We’re going next door.”
Bridget raced inside, looking around wildly. Did she have socks on the floor or a bra dangling over the back of the couch? It wasn’t that she was messy, per se, but living alone meant she could leave her shoes by the couch and not have someone barking at her to pick them up. Scooping up the fuzzy socks that had gotten too warm for her last night, she dashed into her bedroom and threw them in the hamper. A glimpse of herself in the mirror over her vanity had her cringing. Dirt streaked from her temple down across her cheek to her chin and her hair had taken on a crazy, frizzy life of its own. “Yikes,” she whispered. A quick splash of water and a ponytail later, she was walking back into the living room as Cornelius opened the door.
He and Jack ambled in as Bridget stood there twisting her fingers together, unable to think of anything to say. No, no, this was not going to happen. She wouldn’t be made uncomfortable in her own home. There was no reason to be weird around Cornelius and if Jack was in her house, then he needed to deal. Not her. “Hey, come on in.”
They walked in and Jack held out a beer. “Want one?”
“Sure, thanks.” She smiled and grabbed the bottle before walking into the kitchen. Bridget dished out the food and set it on the table along with topping options.
Cornelius dug into the food, growling his appreciation, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He really was like a big brother. No manners and no attempt at entertaining conversation. Just slouching in the chair and shoveling food into his mouth.
As they settled into the meal, she looked up and caught Jack staring at her. Self-conscious, she wiped her mouth with her napkin and cast around for something to talk about. “So how’s work going?”
Cornelius shrugged. “Same old, same old. Ask the new guy.”
Jack curled the corners of his lips up. “Hard. Tiring. I’m enjoying it. It’s not like anything else I’ve ever done before.”
“What have you done before?”
“Construction, but mostly office work. Nothing exciting.”
“Then why do it?”
He paused, spoon mid-way up. “I guess because my family expected it from me. That’s what brought me here.”
She rested her chin on her hand. “And how do you like it in Fallbank?”
His gaze traced her features and a frisson of heat danced down her spine. He swallowed and licked his lips. “From what I know, I like it. A lot.”
Holy hell, was he coming on to her? Right in front of Cornelius? Her entire body grew warm under the intensity of his gaze. How amazing would that concentration feel with his body covering hers? An ache blossomed between her legs. Calm down, girl. She was reading too much into all of this. And apparently it had been too long since the last time she’d had sex which was…over three years ago? Wait, what? How had the brief fling she’d had been that long ago? Her vibrator needed her to find a boyfriend more than she did. Poor thing, it was a testament to craftsmanship, given it kept on working hard for her.
“That’s good,” she croaked. “So what brought you over to Cornelius’ house tonight? I didn’t mean to crash your bro time.”
Cornelius chuckled and pinned her with one of his I-can’t-wait-to-see-your-reaction grins. “Jack’s my new roommate.”
Her spoon slipped from her hand and the clatter against her bowl made her wince. “Oh. So you’ll be next door. Living there.”
“Yep.” Jack’s grin would’ve made her knees tremble if she’d been standing. She was going to live next door to all of this hot man-ness? She’d better watch out or she’d end up falling for him like one of his trees.
Jack was in so much trouble. He was flirting with the girl next door—that he hadn’t known lived next door—and his new roommate treated her like a little sister. He needed to get a grip. He was here to do a job, figure out if this logging company was a good investment and go back home to Seattle. Not chase after a woman. Granted, she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on and her shy nature intrigued him, but still, she wasn’t in his plans.
“How long have you two lived next door to each other?”
Cornelius answered, “Pretty much forever. You were what, six or seven when you and Sarah moved here?”
Bridget nodded. “I was seven and Sarah was ten.” She flicked her eyes to his. “My sister. She lives in Seattle now. Gran took us in after our parents died. We used to live in Connecticut.”
“I’m really sorry.” He wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but he couldn’t tell if that would be welcome or not.
“It was a long time ago, but thank you.” She nudged Cornelius’ arm as she got up to clear the table. “Things didn’t turn out too terrible.”
Jack jumped up and grabbed bowls. “Let me help you.”
She shot Cornelius a teasing smile. “Look at that, someone with actual manners. I’d love your assistance, Jack.”
A phone rang as Cornelius opened his mouth to respond. “Saved by a call.” He got up and walked out onto the porch.
Jack helped carry the dishes over to the sink, grabbing a towel to dry as she hand-washed the items. “Random questions, but I’m curious. You mentioned something about the Wildes sisters, and your last name is the same. How’d that happen?”
Her grin was playful. “We’re a very progressive family and always have been. Wildes females don’t change their last names if we get married, and we own the store. No men allowed.” She winked. “Smash the patriarchy.”
Jack threw his head back and laughed. “I love it. That’s very cool. And you grew up in this house, huh?”
“I did. Me and Gran and Sarah. It was great. I always loved visiting here when I was a kid. Going with Gran to the store and ‘helping.’ Chasing around Sarah in the garden out back. Playing with my cousin Becca. When my parents passed, moving out here was the best possible option.”
Her arm brushed his and he had to stop himself from leaning closer. She smelled amazing, of earth and lavender and sunshine. He wanted to press his nose into her hair and let the scent wash over him. “And now it’s just you here?”
Nodding, she rinsed the last dish and handed it to him. “Sarah went off to U-Dub and never came back. Becca still has her parents’ farm where she grew up a few miles outside of town. Then about a year or so ago, Gran decided she wanted to live out her remaining years independent. I think she was giving me space, but I never minded living with her. It didn’t cramp my style or prevent me from doing anything.”
He quirked his eyebrows. “No? You ever bring anyone home? Must be a helluva cool grandma. I know mine would be gasping and clutching her pearls if I ever sauntered out of my room with a girl I wasn’t married to.”
Bridget pursed her lips, but he could see the smile hiding underneath. “Okay, you have a point. I never brought anyone home and even staying over at a boyfriend’s house was awkward coming home the next day.” Her smile faded. “But I miss her. It gets lonely sometimes.”
This time he didn’t check his instincts and wrapped her into a hug.
She stiffened for a second or two.
He held his breath and hoped he hadn’t overstepped. Jack didn’t want things to turn weird between them. When she relaxed into him, he exhaled with relief. “We all feel isolated at times. It’s okay. And hey, I know we don’t know each other well, but I’m just next door if you ever want company.”
She let out a shaky laugh and pulled back. “Thanks, Jack. I appreciate it.” Color was high in her cheeks and she glanced around the room. “Wow, I sure can make things awkward.”
A weird heaviness settled on his chest when she stepped away from him, but he ignored it. “No worries, you didn’t make anything weird. I asked and you were honest. That’s a rarity these days.”
She quirked her brows in question. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Nothing, really.” He shook his head. “People like to tell you what they think you want to hear. Especially in business.” No way was he ready to bare his soul on how often people lied to him. Particularly women who wanted a ring and access to his bank account. Thankfully, Cornelius walked back in and saved him.
“What’d I miss?”
Bridget rolled her eyes but smiled at him. “Just all the clean-up. Impeccable timing as always.”
“I do what I can. Are you still going to that festival this weekend? Working a booth there?”
“That’s the plan. Gran and Becca are manning the shop and I’ll go over to the festival. I’m booked almost every weekend this month and in October. ’Tis the season.” She shrugged.
“Do you need help?” Even Jack was surprised at his offer. Where had that come from? “Sounds complicated.”
Shaking her head, she answered, “No, but thanks. I’ve done a ton of these before. You get there at the crack of dawn, set up and hope for light rain and heavy crowds instead of heavy rain and light crowds. If all goes as planned, breakdown is quick because you sold everything.”
“Oh, all right.” Jack needed to get a hold of himself. Why did her rejection sting so much? He barely knew this girl and here he was volunteering to work for free on the weekend then acting like a kicked puppy when she said no. Sure, she was gorgeous and had a hidden depth he didn’t think she let many people see, but he didn’t want involvement. His stay was temporary. Jack needed to keep that in mind.
“I hate to eat and run, little B, but I’m beat. We have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Thanks for the company, Cor. Jack.” She glanced his way. “I suppose we’ll see each other a lot more frequently.”
He nodded and tried not to read too much into the look she gave him. There was not a hungry edge to it. That was just him projecting. “Thanks for dinner. Have a good night.”
She called out a goodbye as the door closed and he forced himself not to look back.
Chapter Three
Bridget was ready to pull her hair out. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep up with the store’s spreadsheets. She could track the expenses and sales, which products were purchased, but she still never seemed to have enough to keep pace with the different items. She just couldn’t predict what people were going to buy on any given day. Sometimes she’d think she saw a trend for a particular soap and make extra only to have a lotion be the next best seller. Or she’d think a particular lotion would do well at a festival based on the sales from the previous event, but have it sit on her table all day.
And of course, no matter what she did with trying to anticipate sales, it seemed she couldn’t get more than barely making ends meet. Maybe she should think about taking out an ad in the local paper again. Although the last time had ended with a group outside with signs about her being a witch. Sales had plummeted for a month. She had to figure something out, but what?
The chime rang and she looked up at Jack entering the shop. Her heart stuttered in her chest. For a woman who’d never found flannel appealing, he sure did look fine in it. The cloth clung to his muscles in a way she found very stimulating. Blinking, she cleared her thoughts. “Hi, what brings you this way?”
