Talking Dirty Page 12

  As a girl she’d spent hours and hours reading and imagining in the wonderland that her mom had created for her. She saw it now and understood the work and love—the dedication—that had gone into creating such a unique backyard world for Apple.

  She only hoped that one day she’d get the chance to be the same kind of loving parent they were. “I love what you’ve done with the herb garden this year. They’re so lush and healthy.”

  Her mother looked up from wiping down a potting wheel on the cement patio and smiled, her blue eyes warm and happy. And that’s exactly how she’d always been, even though life hadn’t always been kind to her. Happy. Her mom was a hell of a woman.

  “I keep telling you that you need to go organic,” she said, her bare feet smattered with dried clay dust, turning them blotchy gray. “Earthworm castings are the way to go. Miracle, I tell you.”

  Her mom was an artist through and through, and Apple adored her for her slightly hippie, earth-friendly ways. She’d learned to be conscientious and compassionate because of her, and she’d discovered the satisfaction of giving and sharing.

  Besides, she’d always been darn proud of having a mother who’d never listened to the word no and now had pieces of her pottery in galleries all over the world. She’d believed in herself when no one else had.

  “I can’t stay too long, Mom. I promised Waffles that I’d take her on a hike around Moose Lake before it gets too late.” Mostly their “hikes” consisted of Waffles sniffing everything within reach and then tiring out halfway through and needing to be carried the rest of the way back. Still, for a pint-sized canine, there was nothing quite like getting to pee on mountain strawberries to make her feel like a big dog. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Sedona wiped her hands on a plain white apron tied around her waist. “Help yourself to some lemonade. Your father made it fresh just this morning.”

  “Is it straight or did he mix it like he did last time?” Mango, strawberry, guava lemonade had sounded good in theory. Not so good in reality.

  Her mom laughed, her round cheeks flushed with health and vibrancy. “It’s plain, thank goodness. Be thankful you weren’t here when he decided to see if steak juice tasted as good as it sounded.” She shuddered. “Made me reconsider giving up vegetarianism.”

  “He keeps you on your toes, Mom, and you love him for it.”

  “Bless my heart, I do.” Moving away from the pottery wheel, Sedona came over to Apple and gave her a warm hug. “And he wants to know when you’re free to come for dinner. He’s been pouting ever since you had to cancel last week because you were up to your neck with research on your book.”

  Apple blushed hotly and looked away. The research she’d been doing had been at Jake’s, and even though she was a grown woman she still felt embarrassed about it. Her dad certainly didn’t need to know whom she’d been with during that time. Open-minded and egalitarian with the best of them, Marty was still a father, and Jake wasn’t exactly someone he’d be happy knowing Apple was spending time with. “Tell him I’m free Thursday.”

  “Oh, he’ll be so happy, honey. You know how your father adores listening to all your latest adventures.”

  “Speaking of, where is he?” Apple asked in an attempt to change the subject. The last thing she wanted to discuss with her dad was her “latest adventure.” She wasn’t sure his heart could handle it.

  “He’s out with Hugh hiking Jasper’s Peak.” Sedona plopped in a lawn chair and sighed contentedly. “So Nell tells me you’ve been spending time with Jake Stone for your book project.”

  Apple looked at her mom. “She told you that?” What else had Nell said? Man, she was just as much a blabbermouth today as she’d been back in junior high when she’d blabbed about Apple’s enormous crush on Ryan Wilcox and it had gotten back to him.

  And no, it hadn’t ended all perfect teen-romance-movie happy.

  As if that ever really happened.

  “Should she not have said anything to me about it?” Sedona asked, wiggling her unpainted toes in the sunshine.

  Apple sighed, feeling frustrated and self-conscious. “It’s just there’s nothing more to tell. He’s finally agreed to talk to me about the first Fortune settlement. That’s all.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I’m serious, Mom.”

  “And I’m not blind. I can see just how good-looking that boy is now that he’s all grown up.” She leveled a look at Apple. “How much trouble too.”

  “Are you warning me off of Jake, Mom? Really? Since when did you decide to become that parent?”

  Sedona sighed. “I’m not, honey. It’s just your dad and I have known Jake since you were in diapers. And it’s our job to look out for you—no matter how old you are.”

  Right. Like she hadn’t been taking care of herself for the past fifteen years just fine. “Thanks for worrying, but I can handle it, Mom.” There wasn’t anything to deal with anyway. It was just Jake.

  He was only the man who’d given her the best orgasm of her life and called her his queen.

  And who confused her, aggravated her—excited her.

  Her heart flopped.

  Oh boy.

  Snatching up a glass on a nearby patio table, Apple poured lemonade into it until it almost overflowed. Then she gulped it down in one long slug. Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she poured another glass and said, “Parched,” in an affected voice, trying to sound like the lone man in the desert.

  “Ha-ha.” Sedona patted the lawn chair next to her. “Come sit and tell me what’s really going on, honey.”

  “Nothing’s going on, Mom. Really.” Apple feigned innocence with wide eyes.

  “You’re a worse liar than your father, girl. So give up the info. You know I’ll get it out of you one way or the other.”

  “Mom—”

  “Don’t make me call Aidan.”

  “No, don’t!” That got her attention. “He doesn’t know anything about anything. I swear. But if you call him, he’ll go sticking his big fat nose into places it doesn’t belong. And that will just annoy me and cause everyone grief.”

  “Exactly.” Her mother laughed good-naturedly and patted the seat again. “Sit.”

  Sighing because it was futile to argue with Sedona when she was in one of her moods, Apple slowly walked to the lawn chair and slunk into it. “I’m just wound up about my book. I’m frustrated and stressed out that it’s not done. It should have been done months ago. And it’s not my fault it’s not done. Jake was a jerk for like, forever, and I’m cutting it really short on time.”

  “So Jake was a jerk before, but he’s not now?”

  Hadn’t she just explained that? “Now he’s cooperating, so yes he’s not a jerk.” In fact, he was a whole lot of something else. And she was still trying to put her finger on it.

  “Honey, I’m going to say something, and you might not like it.” Sedona reached over and squeezed her hand, smiling gently in a reassuring way.

  Yet somehow she didn’t feel reassured. Sedona Woodman was known for dropping some seriously big truth bombs. She saw to the heart of things with blunt precision. And she did it with no damn warning.

  “What is it, Mom?” She had to fight the urge to actually brace her feet for impact. Instinct told her this was going to hit home hard.

  “Follow-through has always been a challenge for you. Maybe this book just isn’t meant to be, sweetie. And maybe you’ve been using Jake’s lack of helpful information as an excuse not to finish. Not that that’s bad or anything, honey. We all have our struggles. But maybe it’s time to ask yourself why that might be.”

  Apple felt her stomach tank. “Not the follow-through speech again, please.” She refused to acknowledge the other part her mom had mentioned. It was just flat wrong. She was meant to finish this book.

  Her mom leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Got to, babe. You need me to be your mirror.”

  “No, I really don’t.” But deep down she knew Sedona wa
s right: she needed some Mom Vision.

  “See now, this is one of those things you’ll view perfectly in hindsight when you have kids of your own.”

  Sudden burning at the back of her eyes took Apple by surprise, as well as the longing that set off inside her like a homing beacon at the words kids of your own. Before she could so much as think she blurted, “I want babies!” Then was shaken by a sudden sob.

  “Oh, honey!” Her mother scooted her chair closer to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I know you do. You always have. And it will happen, I promise. You just need to be patient.”

  “I’m tired of being patient!” Apple wailed and then was instantly mortified at herself for her outburst. When had she turned five?

  “Wait. Is that what this is about?” Sedona tipped her head to the side like she was considering something. “This makes some sense. Is that why you’ve been seeing Jake, honey? Are you looking for a sperm donor?”

  Apple jerked away in shock. “Oh my God, no! Mom, that’s awful!”

  “Why? It seemed a rational progression of thought. You two certainly can’t be dating out of compatibility.”

  “And why not?” Apple suddenly wanted to know, a little offended. For her or Jake, or both of them, she wasn’t sure. Jeez, the conclusions her mom jumped to! Not that they were dating, but would it really be so bad if they were? Besides, maybe she wanted to.

  Apple went very still as the truth of her feelings sunk in just then and paralyzed her.

  Holy shit on a silver platter.

  She wanted to.

  “Apple, are you okay? Honey, you’ve gone pale. Look at me.” Her mom grabbed her chin and turned her to face her, her blue eyes filled with concern.

  “What am I going to do?” Apple whispered through suddenly dry lips. Her heart was pounding and her head was still spinning from the truth.

  “About what, honey?”

  She almost couldn’t say it. “I-I have f-feelings for him.”

  Sedona’s eyes narrowed. “For Jake?”

  Apple nodded, her chin still in her mom’s fingers. “Yeah.”

  Her mother stared into her eyes for a long, quiet moment before releasing Apple’s face. Then the corners of her eyes creased and she smiled, winking playfully. “We all make mistakes sometimes, sweetheart.”

  Apple’s eyes flew wide. “Mom!” She gasped in indignation. But then Sedona started laughing. And soon she was joining in, instantly feeling so much lighter inside. Whatever her mom felt about her feelings for Jake, she was respectful enough to keep them to herself. And that filled her with relief.

  Then her mom had to go and sober up and say, “In all seriousness, Apple, if you do truly have feelings for Jake, then maybe this book was just a subconscious attempt to find a way to be close to him. Not because you actually wanted to write it. And that’s okay.”

  Now she was back to feeling upset.

  She also refused to believe that what her mom said was true. “It’s not. They’re mutually exclusive things. One hundred percent.” Besides, she’d wanted to be a writer most of her life. These feelings for Jake she’d just discovered recently.

  Sedona stood from the chair and went for some lemonade. “All I’m saying, Apple, is that it’s okay to not finish sometimes if the thing we’re working so hard for isn’t where our heart really lies and is making us miserable. That’s all. It’s not a weakness, shortcoming, or flaw in character. It’s simply a truth we all should hear from time to time. Sometimes it’s okay to just stop.”

  Apple rose too, feeling conflicted inside. “That’s the thing, Mom. It is in my heart. I don’t want to stop.” And she wanted to make her dreams come true. All of them.

  Her mom let out a long-suffering sigh. “Then you have to find a way to see it through.”

  Apple tipped her chin. “I will.”

  “There’s that fighting spirit I love so much.” Sedona grinned and began collecting empty lemonade glasses.

  Darn straight it was. She was Apple Woodman, writer extraordinaire, and she was going to finish her damn book.

  “Oh, and Apple?” her mom called over her shoulder as she headed inside with the lemonade pitcher.

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Be careful with Jake, will you? Your heart is too precious to break.”

  Chapter Eleven

  THEME NIGHT WAS upon Jake.

  That was part of the reason he was currently holed up in the back of the bar playing accountant. He’d wanted a few hours of calm and quiet before the storm. Last year they’d far exceeded the pub’s maximum capacity, and it had spilled onto the patio and beyond. If this year was anything close to that he was really going to need his camping getaway.

  Last year it’d saved his sanity.

  This year he’d prearranged everything so that he could take off afterward into the backwoods of the great Rocky Mountains for five blissful days of not having to see or speak to another soul. Aidan had even agreed to look in on his dad for him, so he’d covered everything. It was going to be so sweet.

  He was laying tracks out of town tomorrow.

  But tonight—tonight was the fun.

  He grinned, going back to work, and began humming along when the player tucked in the back corner of his office shuffled CDs and his favorite musical guilty pleasure, Taylor Swift, came on.

  Jake figured that not too many people got excited about doing their finances—and for good reason. Before he and the guys had hit the proverbial gold mine, he’d hated it too. Of course, he’d also been living paycheck to paycheck working as a brew master for his main competition across town, Gold Nugget Brewery and Pub. Not to be confused with the Golden Nugget Saloon off Water Street. They served the hard stuff. And they’d permanently banned his father from the place five years back after he’d had a few too many Jägers and picked a fight with the bartender when he’d been cut off.

  Still, before Jake had struck it rich, going over the accounts hadn’t been his cup of tea. Now, however, he was so damn thankful every day for what he had that paying his monthly bills was an enjoyable task. It made him happy.

  Because he was living the dream, baby.

  He had just finished paying the utility bill online when someone knocked on the door, slightly jarring him. “Come in,” he called out, hoping it was the bar manager, Cory Reynolds, coming to tell him they’d found a copy of Super Bowl ’98 to play on the TV screens later after all. Jake had thought it would be the perfect finishing touch for the night, but so far nobody they’d asked seemed to have a copy.

  “Look at you, being quite the businessman.”

  Apple.

  Heat instantly coiled in the pit of his stomach. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been flushed and glassy-eyed with arousal. Though she looked clearheaded now, she still flushed when they made eye contact.

  “It keeps me honest,” he said, fighting the biggest urge to make those gorgeous blues of hers go all hazy again. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, propping his Merrells on his scarred wood desk. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he let his gaze roam freely over her, and grinned. “Look at you, being quite the bohemian.”

  She had on a long gauzy white dress that hung off her shoulders and tied in a bow around her waist. Strands of her blonde hair had slipped from her bun and hung around her neck, and chunky wooden bracelets decorated her wrists. And, of course, she had those glasses.

  Apple blushed even more but struck a pose with one hand on her hip and one at her head. “Do you like it?”

  He liked it. “Yeah.” A. Lot. She looked like she belonged barefoot on the beach in Tahiti. He could see it perfectly.

  And Jake suddenly really wanted to take her there.

  Something lodged in his chest, creating the biggest pang, and he gulped in air, slamming his feet to the floor and sitting up. Holy shit, what was that? Was he having a coronary?

  Apple rushed to his side, crouching down in front of him, her blue eyes round and full of worry behind her ridicu
lous glasses. “Are you okay, Jake?”

  Though he wasn’t entirely sure, his heart rate seemed to be holding steady, so he must be. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Small, feminine hands covered his knees, the warmth of them branding him through his jeans. “Are you sure? You went really pale.”

  “I’m sure,” he said, needing to change the subject.

  Apple regarded him with worry for a few more seconds until suddenly her eyes narrowed and she tipped her head to the side like she was listening hard. “What are you listening to?” Her eyes were quizzical now.

  Embarrassment flooded Jake when he realized the player was still on, and who was playing on the stereo. He quickly broke eye contact and cleared his throat. “Nobody. Here, I’ll just turn it off.” Leaning far back in his chair, Jake reached over his shoulder and slapped the stop button, the room dropping into silence. Righting himself, he tried for a disarming smile. “There. Now, where were we?”

  But Apple wasn’t listening. She’d pushed up to her feet and was quickly making her way around him, her floaty white dress brushing over his bare forearm as she went. “Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” Her eyes were zeroed in on his CD player.

  Mortally embarrassed, Jake grabbed her around the waist, stopping her and pulling her back. “No, don’t!”

  But she managed to snag a CD case from his rack, quickly reading the cover. “It is! Oh God, this is awesome. It’s Taylor Swift!” She burst into laughter.

  Jake pulled Apple right down on top of him and went straight for the case, gripping her tiny wrist in his hand. “Give it,” he demanded, sure that this was somehow going to be his undoing—his goddamn secret love affair with all things Taylor. Why he suddenly felt unmanned, he wasn’t sure. But it was killing him that Apple was laughing at his choice in music. Fuck, why hadn’t he been listening to something like Motley Crew? That shit was manly.