Too Good to be True, page 15
Chapter Fifteen
“Up my game.” Jen had lost count the number of times she’d muttered that phrase. Sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a chuckle, and sometimes with a groan. This last time was with a confident smile as she put the finishing touches on her outfit. She had changed shirts three times, her pants twice, and she had almost switched her underwear before settling on the current pair. A mix of casual and chic: light blue pants, black boots, cream-colored sweater, black lace underwear.
Her babysitter arrived just as she was rubbing perfume on her wrists. She walked Parker through the last-minute details more as a way to settle her nerves than out of any real necessity. Parker had watched Carter several times before.
Leaning over the couch, she kissed Carter good night. “Are you all set?”
“Yeah,” he answered without looking up, and then he wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”
She rolled her eyes. “Me.”
“What is it?”
“It’s perfume.”
He turned toward her. “Is this a date?”
“I told you I was going out.”
“Not on a date. Does Mama know?”
She kept her irritation and amusement hidden. No need to advertise her feelings about Carter’s other parent in front of him. “No.”
He smiled. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
Time to nip that one in the bud. “You don’t need to keep secrets for me. You are welcome to share whatever you want about me with your other mother.” A part of her wished he’d keep quiet. She could already hear Rachel’s voice now, but it wasn’t safe to teach him to keep secrets. Carter was very protective of his parents, and the conversation made her wonder if Rachel had asked him to keep stuff from her. That one was going to need sorting out later.
She pulled up to Madison’s apartment and got out of the car as Madison opened the door. Jen’s smile grew as she took in Madison’s low-slung jeans and light red shirt.
Putting her puffer jacket on, Madison paused at the edge of the sidewalk and gave Jen a once-over. She pointed. “You said casual.” She waved at her. “That’s not casual.”
Jen opened the passenger door. “You said to up my game. This is my game upped.” Madison gave her a side-eye and brushed past. Jen traced the curve of her ass in those “casual” jeans and caught her eye. Leaning in, Jen said, “You look fucking hot. I like your jeans.”
She got a blush for her compliment, and she practically skipped around the front of the car, giddy at the prospect of taking Madison out on the town. But her nerves kicked into gear as soon as they were on the road again and heading toward their destination.
She hadn’t dated in a long time. She was worried that her ability to impress a date was gone. Shawn had been catch-as-catch-can, furtive and compressed. Planning a date was almost impossible. And Rachel had been so long ago, and she’d been the one who’d chased Jen. Because that was what Jen was doing, chasing Madison.
With all this going on in her head, Jen fell back on a safe topic. “I spoke with Kathleen and…” She picked up on Madison’s folded arms and slightly hunched form. “What?”
“How much does she know about us?”
“Kathleen? Just the broad strokes. We met at the wedding, we connected.”
Madison gave her a look. “Had sex.”
“Okay, in my defense, I didn’t think I’d see you again.” She paused. Well, that sounded terrible. Maybe another tactic. “If you’re worried about conflict of interest, I could go on record with our relationship.”
“Oh hell, no.”
“Okay.” That was not the answer she was expecting, but maybe she should have, given the way Madison’s relationship with Erika ended. But right now, Jen needed to know what the fuck Madison was thinking. Didn’t she have enough trouble with Rachel? Madison was almost a decade younger, without the same life experiences that could make a relationship harder. If Madison was going to bail, Jen wanted to know now. She could go through the dance tonight and then gently distance herself enough to finish the project, giving her desire a chance to cool and either work itself out or fade away.
Madison sighed. “It’s just weird for me, being so close to work again. I had a blueprint for how I wanted this to go, and it failed spectacularly.”
Jen reached out. “I know. I don’t have a blueprint for this, either. There’s a trail of failed relationships behind me.”
Madison shook her head and smiled. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“No, I guess not. If it helps, Kathleen has some of the best personal professional boundaries I’ve ever met. What I share with my friend does not show up with the principal.”
She was met with silence before Madison said, “Maybe this is a mistake.”
Oh no, not the mixed signals again. She’d gotten serious back-off signs before, but this was not what she was expecting tonight. What she hadn’t told Madison was that she didn’t really do one-night stands. She didn’t have the emotional stamina for it. Ironic, considering a relationship carried just as much emotional work, but somehow, she felt it was more worth the time. She guessed that said something about her. Suppressing her disappointment, she ordered her thoughts and opened her mouth.
Madison beat her to it. “I’m sorry. I thought I was ready, and I’m not. I feel like an ass. I really like you.”
Oh, great. Here it comes. It’s not you, it’s me. Why the fuck did she get her hopes up? And that was really the issue. She’d wanted this more than she realized. From the beginning, Madison had been a breath of fresh air in her very stale life. And now it had fallen flat. Fuck that. She was not giving up without a fight.
Jen eyed a parking spot and pulled in to it. Putting the car in neutral and setting the brake, she turned in her seat. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on inside that head. I’ll take you home right now if you want, but this is not the same woman who told me to up my game.”
“Erika called me.”
Well, that was not where she thought it was going. “When?”
“Yesterday.”
Fuck. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to her. She didn’t leave a voice mail. It doesn’t matter.”
Oh yes, it does. She’s fucking up my date. “Are you still in love with her?”
Madison choked on a laugh. “No.”
“Good.” She sensed the unspoken half and said it aloud. “But she still loves you.”
Madison groaned and put her hands in her head. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Somehow, this revelation felt better. Knowing that Erika had recently cropped up and stirred shit felt easier than some fundamental flaw in their own dynamic or unwillingness on Madison’s part to pursue a relationship. This was something they could deal with together if they wanted to, and Jen wanted that. She just had to remind Madison that she felt the same way.
“Look, I think we’re putting too much pressure on ourselves. Fuck Erika, fuck Kathleen, fuck everyone. Let’s go out and have a good time. See where that leads. Okay?”
Madison took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”
Jen groaned. “You could say that with a little more enthusiasm. Just to make sure my ego recovers.”
Madison smiled and, pulling Jen’s hand to her, kissed her knuckles. The gesture charmed her and made all her misgivings subside. “Thank you. I mean it.”
Jen deflected her comment more to switch the subject than to ignore it. “You’re not the only one with baggage. I’ve just had longer to pack it up.” She extricated her hand and merged back into traffic.
“Where are you taking me?”
Jen smiled. “You’ll see.”
* * *
Madison took a deep breath. Jen’s flirty smile made her feel better about her little freak out. Erika always screwed with her head, even when she wasn’t trying. It made her angry and put her on edge. She wanted to make up for it. She’d teased Jen about her look because she’d felt self-conscious in her own clothes. Jen obviously put her money into her wardrobe. “You look incredible tonight.”
Jen dipped her head and gave her a small smile. “Thank you.”
It was too dark, but she thought Jen might have blushed. She debated where to take the conversation next, now that they had reset the evening. She had put aside her anxiety about the work connections and the age difference, but then Erika’s mysterious phone call had put her slightly on edge. She’d been thrilled that Jen had asked her out and had looked forward to it all week. Every day she’d find a new memory of the way they’d danced together, the way they’d moved together, the way they’d talked together. Their connection pulled her in. Iron Pour, Spooktacular, even and especially during the refrigerator shopping. Who knew that doing something so domestic could also be so charged with sexual tension? She tried not to take too much meaning from it, but it was hard not to.
By the time Jen parked next to a massive, red-brick factory, Madison was feeling much better and more engaged in what was to come. She got out as Jen appeared at her side.
“Ready?” Jen held out her elbow, and Madison hooked her hand in its crook.
Inside, the building opened up into a glass atrium and an interior courtyard with several shops and restaurants along its sides.
“One of my friends’ firms does historic renovations. This used to be a textile mill.”
She looked around. “It’s huge.”
“Yes. They don’t build them like this anymore. It’s about six acres. It used to be bigger.” Jen led her toward the far corner and said, “Wait until you see this.”
Madison followed her into a room with white brick walls and warm wood floors, but what stood out were the six vintage bowling lanes in front of a long bar. It was so kitschy and cool that Madison grabbed her arm and said, “Bowling. Yes.”
Jen smiled and spread her arms. “So have I upped my game?”
Madison turned back to the room and walked toward the reception. “You’re definitely improving.”
They ordered boozy shakes, lobster mac and cheese, and tater tot nachos while Jen walked her through the rules of duckpin bowling, which involved a smaller ball.
She felt a twinge of jealousy. “Have you been here before?”
Jen shook her head. “No, but I looked up the rules before I came.” How sweet. Jen cared enough to do research.
They laughed and touched all evening, sharing drinks and food while they played a competitive but good-natured game. By the time they left—Madison had won one set and lost the second—her sides were tender and her cheeks sore from laughing and smiling.
Jen parked at the curb and let the engine idle. The gentle hum reminded Madison of her first time behind its wheel and how much she’d wanted Jen that night.
She unbuckled her belt and shifted in her seat. “This was fun. Thank you.”
“It was.” Jen leaned in and kissed her lips. A quick peck good night.
But Madison had waited too long for that kind of kiss. She wanted more. She curled her fingers behind Jen’s neck and pulled her closer. Jen moved with her, and her tongue brushed Madison’s lips, asking and receiving permission to enter. Madison warmed at the feel of Jen’s tongue inside her. It touched off nerves throughout her body and curled down to her toes. Nothing like their kisses from the wedding, this one carried the weight of expectation rather than the haphazard passion of two people attracted to each other. She gave herself over to that feeling of expectation, building kiss after kiss until Jen moved back.
Her hair was mussed in back, and she had a sloppy smile on her face. “I should go.”
Madison came back to reality, too aroused to make sense of what Jen was saying. Go where?
Jen leaned in and kissed her again. This time, she didn’t let go. Jen’s hands slid down her shoulders and wrapped around her waist, pulling Madison toward her as best she could with the gearshift between them. Far too quickly, the knob pushing into Madison’s belly overtook her more pleasurable senses, and she gasped as it hit a particularly tender spot. She rubbed her lower abdomen.
Jen glanced down and covered her hand. “Are you okay?”
She grimaced. “Yeah. Making out in a car is not as much fun as they say it is.”
Jen laughed. “Yes. Ironic, considering this kind of car sells sex.” She looked over her shoulder. “Even the back seat sucks.”
Madison spoke without thought. “Do you want to come in?”
Jen tilted Madison’s face toward her. “Yes. But I’m not going to.”
Anticipation and disappointment crashed into each other, and Madison asked, “Why?”
Jen moved a hand between them. “This. This is good. But it’s still too new. And just two hours ago, you told me this was a mistake.”
Madison grinned and grabbed Jen’s hand. She brought it to her lips and nipped a knuckle.
Jen sucked in a breath.
“Not that new. And I was wrong.” Her need had overtaken her early fears, and she struggled to understand why she’d had doubts in the first place.
Wrapping her hands around Madison’s, Jen leaned in. “Let me be clear. I want to go upstairs and fuck your brains out.”
Madison’s arousal flared. Images she was already familiar with flashed through her mind, and she could almost feel Jen moving inside her. She groaned and whispered, “Don’t say that.”
Jen kissed their joined hands. “Shh. Don’t worry. We’ll get there. But I think we have something different here. Am I the only one seeing that?”
No, she wasn’t. Tamping down her desire, she swallowed the last of her fear and sighed. “No, you’re not.”
“And I really like it. I want to see where it takes us, so I don’t want to fuck it up with more sex too soon.”
Madison had imagined this particular scenario several times after the wedding. But then Jen had shown up, not in a bar or a restaurant, but at her work and with her son. Everything was so much more complicated. Jen wasn’t Erika, and Madison’s wariness about getting involved with people in her professional circle did not apply. Jen’s relationships showed a woman who did not destroy people after a breakup. In Rachel’s case, Madison could argue that Jen went out of her way to make sure her ex had a soft landing wherever she went. If she said no now, she’d let her fear win. It was time to take a risk.
“Then next time it’s my turn to take you out.”
Jen grinned. “Deal.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jen checked the clock, surprised she was going out at a time when she’d normally be getting ready for bed. She and Carter had dinner before she’d packed him for a sleepover at Eli’s. She’d distracted herself with a random cooking show while she’d waited. When her phone chirped, she got up and opened the door. Madison walked up her stone walkway wearing a lacy black blouse and blue washed jeans reminiscent of an outfit Jen had owned in college, down to the pair of Doc Martens that were still tucked in the back of her closet. She felt out of place in her casual sweater, black cords, and Oxfords.
Madison paused at the edge of her stoop and tucked her hands into her back pockets. Her eyes raked up and down Jen’s figure. “You look great.”
She smiled and kicked herself for not saying the same thing first. She’d been so distracted by the Doc Martens. “So do you.”
Madison leaned in and kissed her cheek. A hint of citrus and mint lingered in her wake. Jen chuckled at the gesture and nodded toward her car.
Madison winked. “Ready?”
Jen nodded and locked up. She walked toward the car, but Madison hooked an arm around her waist, steering her toward the Honda Fit. “It’s my date. I drive.”
Jen opened her mouth to protest.
Madison flashed a grin that said she knew she was making her uncomfortable. “Jen, do you have control issues?”
“No. I just prefer to drive.”
Determined not to show her discomfort, Jen discreetly braced her hand against the door as Madison backed up. “Where are we going?”
“The Boat House.” She said it as if Jen would know what she was talking about. “Bridge Street. 90s night.”
“90s night?” She cut Madison a sidelong look. “You do know that I was in college during the 90s?”
“I did. I thought it would be fun.”
Jen wasn’t so sure. She was a far cry from her college persona, and she liked that. For her, maturity brought a level of confidence that, in her youth, had been bolstered by anger and arrogance. Past Jen was an asshole.
“How are you doing over there?”
Jen followed her look and realized she was gripping the door handle. She shook her head and released it. She had to admit, Madison’s driving was fine and that thinking about her past had resulted in the death grip. She smiled. “I’m fine.”
Madison stopped at a red light and raised her eyebrows.
“I’m good. I let you drive my car. That should say something.” She could still hear Nat’s voice teasing her. Only Nat and Jen’s mechanic drove her car. She managed her low-grade anxiety while Madison drove toward South Water Street and the set of ultra-trendy restaurants and bars.
She checked out the clientele and figured she was about ten years above the average age. Even Madison was a little bit older than most of the crowd. Madison showed her ID and paid their cover. The bouncer didn’t card her; she wasn’t sure if she should feel insulted or not. The dance floor was packed, the bar was starting to pile up two deep, and the chorus of “What is Love” hit her on the way in, a song that she linked to SNL skits and cheesy movies but which the entire bar seemed to enjoy.
“I love this song,” Madison shouted and tugged her toward the dance floor.
Suppressing her inner grump, Jen surrendered to the scene and started dancing. By the fifth song, she was laughing at the music and Madison’s moves. She’d heard at least two songs from her club days and another she didn’t remember at all. Her more formative music came from the 1980s, but as the words “Tik Tok” morphed into “I Wanna Sex You Up,” Madison slipped into her arms, and she had a newfound appreciation for the songs of this decade. The tempo gave her an excuse to run her hands along Madison’s body and move against her in ways the ballroom dance at the wedding didn’t allow.
