The First Law of Love (19 page)

Calm down! There
'
s no reason on earth for him to look at your computer.

I was very aware of my nearly-nude body as I slipped from my bloody work clothes and stood in my nylons just at the edge of the closet. My heart would not slow its pace. Fuck, I hadn't done laundry in days. At last, growing desperate, I grabbed a casual, creamy cotton sundress that I would never have dreamed of wearing into a law office in Chicago and slipped it over my head, knowing Al wouldn't care or probably even notice, one way or the other. I had a little trouble with tie that wrapped around the waist, one-handed as I was at present, and fantasized for no more than a lightning flash about calling Case to come in here and help me.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself. I would go out into the living room and ask for his help; that would be all right.

Family friend
, I reminded myself, almost gritting my teeth. Case hadn't so much as mentioned a word of the things that he had said to me at Camille's wedding, leading me to believe that probably he had been drunk enough that they had faded, if not fully evaporated, from his memory of that night. Or, more likely, had utterly reconsidered his youthful position on those matters.

You
'
re the one who can
'
t forget what he said that night.

You
'
re the one who reads too much into things.

Right?

I rounded the corner of the hallway; he was nowhere in sight and neither was Peaches. But then I saw them out on the little balcony and I slipped silently across the carpet in my stocking feet.

“Hey,” I said, sticking my head out the door.

Case said, without looking back at me, “It's a great view out here. This is a nice little place.”

“Would you mind helping me for a second?” I asked, my heart cart-wheeling as he turned at this request. He was still wearing his cowboy hat and sunglasses, so I couldn't tell what he was really thinking at all; his mouth was unsmiling.

“Sure,” he said. Peaches darted around my ankles, back inside.

I stepped out onto the balcony and asked, now feeling about ten years old, “Can you maybe help me tie this? I'm sorry…my hand…”

“Sure,” he said again, and I was undoubtedly imagining that he sounded just the slightest bit hoarse.

I turned and felt his hands take up the ties, just at my waist, and a sharp-edged breath lodged in my chest. I was instantly so aware of my breathing that it became absurd; Case was perhaps a foot away and he asked, “Knot or bowtie?”

I tipped my chin to my left shoulder and my heart jolted, hard; he was so tall and immediate behind me. To cover my nerves, I asked, trying to tease, “A knot? Are you kidding me?”

“Bowtie it is then,” he responded easily. His fingers inadvertently brushed my waist, no more than a few seconds' worth, but it took everything in me to repress a shiver.

“Thank you,” I said the second he was done, hurrying back inside and to the bathroom to inspect my palm.

The cut wasn't terrible; I washed it again and slapped a couple of band-aids over it, then inspected myself in the mirror. My face was so flushed I appeared sunburned, my hair windblown from its clip. I refastened it quickly, wincing at the pain in my palm. Out in the living room I heard Case call, “You want to leave Peaches here, see how she likes it?”

I rejoined him, all fluttery and butterflies-in-the-stomach at the sight of his eyes; he'd removed his sunglasses in the apartment and he looked steadily at me as I came near.

“Sure, that's a good idea,” I said. “Thank you again.”

“Anytime,” he returned. He said, “We better get going…”

I bent to speak to my new cat, telling her, “Be good until I get back, all right?”

Outside the sun was edging past towards afternoon, hot on our heads. Well, at least hot on mine.

“I need a hat,” I reflected as Case opened the door for me. I felt compelled to tell him, “You're such a gentleman.”

“That's all my mom's doing,” he said, as he backed the truck from my parking space. “She was insistent. Gus was too little when she died, he doesn't remember her at all, but the one thing she wanted was for us to be polite. To treat ladies well, she said.”

Probably because she was married to such a lowlife
, I thought, watching Case's profile as he took us back downtown. I said, “That's no small thing. And I'd say you learned well.”

A flash of his grin. He said, “So today is Thursday. And the fair is in town two more nights. What are the odds —”

“Good, they're good,” I interrupted, understanding where he was going. Part of me was fearful that he would suddenly reconsider asking me to join him on a stakeout. I was not about to let that happen and so I added quickly, “What better time to sneak onto someone's land, when the whole town is preoccupied?”

“True,” he mused. I was watching his forearm as he shifted gear, the way the muscles along its length tightened, the red-gold hair, surely bleached from the summer sun, the freckles that were scattered all along his darkly-tanned skin. He asked, “You want to try tomorrow night, after dinner at Clark's?”

I wanted to be near him. I understood this. I further understood that I could not let on that I felt this way; no matter that now he apparently regarded me as a sort of buddy, maybe a kid sister…

It wouldn
'
t be right.

Tish, it wouldn
'
t be right.

Do you want him?

Yes, I fucking want him, but he
'
s not the sort that you can have a fling with.

This I understood with sterling clarity. I asked, half-kidding, “Do you have night vision goggles and all that?”

He angled me a smile and said, “No, but that would probably be a good idea.”

“They were probably about a half mile from your front yard, on the east side of the road.”

He said, “You'll have to show me where you saw them. Do you remember well enough?”

“I do,” I said, thinking of the T-shaped wizard rock, my heart skipping along at his words.

“How about if I pick you up after work today and we'll drive out there? While it's daylight, I mean. You said your car wasn't working…”

I would not acknowledge the bursting bloom of undiluted joy as he suggested this. I would not. I said offhandedly, “I can be done by three, I'm sure Al wouldn't mind. How about you?”

“I have one last lesson at two, then I'm free,” he said. “I'll take a look at your car when I'm done.”

“You don't have to do that,” I told him at once.

He shrugged. “No big deal.”

We had reached the front of the law office. Case drew the truck to the shoulder and put it into park. Not wanting him to go to the trouble, knowing he would take the time to climb out and open my door, I hurried to say, “I got it this time.” Over my shoulder I added sincerely, “Thank you.”

“See you later,” he said, and I resisted the urge to look back as I stepped to the sidewalk and entered the little office, under the tingle of the bell. I was all shaky; as he drove away, I turned and all but pressed my nose to the glass to watch his maroon truck roll down Main Street.

“See you later,” I whispered in response.

At quarter to three I was in the back storage room when I heard Mary say brightly, “Well if it isn't Charles Spicer. What a nice surprise!”

“Afternoon, Mrs. Stapleton,” he said, deep voice with the sound of a smile. I pressed the knuckles of my left hand to my lips, my bloodstream surging. I drew a full breath, not without difficulty, and then stepped back around the corner into the main room. Case's eyes moved directly to me, though there was nothing on his face but utter politeness. His eyes didn't flash a pulse of heat into mine.

Not one bit
…

He was wearing his hat, sunglasses hooked on the collar of his t-shirt, creating a little gap that exposed the line of his collarbones along the top of his chest. I wondered if he had red-gold hair there too, and if his freckles continued over his chest…

“Is young Mr. Spicer your beau, Patty?” Mary asked, clearly delighted at the prospect, clasping her be-ringed hands and smiling between the two of us.

Case, angled away from her to look at me, asked without sound,
Patty?

I hid a giggle by biting my lip. I said to Mary, “He's helping me out with my car, actually.” And then I couldn't resist adding, “Charles and I are just friends.”

Yes, friends, we
'
re friends.

Nothing more
.

“Ha ha,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes at me even as he couldn't quite contain a smile. He explained, “I came to get your keys.”

“They're in my purse,” I said, moving to grab them. “And thank you again.”

Al came through the door just then, saying merrily, “Afternoon, everyone! Tish, my dear, I just had three separate people tell me that they think it's wonderful that you're going to take over Howe and James when I retire.”

I giggled at this, digging through my purse. I said, “Could it be you who started that rumor?”

“Oh, it was me,” Mary declared, unashamed. “I've been telling everyone that very thing.”

“
Mary
,” I complained, but half-heartedly. I could just picture her, like a woman who operated one of those old switchboard telephones, the kind where you could listen to any conversation in town, fueling the rumor mill. I found my keys and Case collected them from my hands, seeming to study me with extra speculation before he tipped his hat once more to Mary and headed outside.

“Well, you tell me the minute you decide that very thing,” Al said, winking as he shed his sport coat and headed for his desk.

I shook my head at the idea of them hoping for this, something that could never actually be, and went back to work. I was, however, so terribly conscious of Case right out in the parking lot and working over my car that I was nearly useless. No more than a couple of minutes ticked by before I said to Al, “Do you mind if I take off a little early?”

He was on the phone and nodded distractedly. Covering the mouthpiece, he told me, “That's fine.”

Out in the lowering sun, I rounded the building to see Case bent over the open hood. I barely curbed the fierce urge to race to his side and slide my arms around his waist, bury my face against him.

“So, do I need a new car?” I asked as I came up on his right side.

“It's just your battery,” he said, straightening to his full height and leaning one thigh against the side of my car, his hands slightly stained, probably from checking the oil. “You left the headlights on. Don't worry. The battery is an easy fix.”

The sun cut across my eyes as I looked at him. I said, “Thank you. Apparently I'm a moron. I really appreciate the help.”

He didn't look back at me as he shrugged and said, his tone implying that he didn't have anything better to do with a little downtime, “Sure thing.” He wiped his hands on the sides of his jeans and said, “Besides, you could very well be saving my property and that's no small thing,” echoing my words from earlier today.

I shaded my eyes to see him better. Still he wasn't looking exactly at me. I wanted to grab his face in my hands and make him. I whispered, “It's my job.”

“Here, I'll close the hood,” he said, which forced me to step back. He did so and then said, “Let's get you a battery, first thing, and then we'll drive out and you can show me the spot.”

We walked across the street to the hardware and auto parts store, where I recognized the clerk, Ken Nelson, from The Spoke, where he'd been chatting with Clark, and last Tuesday's meeting.

“Fine afternoon, ain't it?” he asked us. “Patricia, how're you enjoying Jalesville?”

“Wonderfully,” I said, quite honestly.

“We need a battery for that little white Honda across the street, the '97 Accord,” Case said, leaning his hip against the counter. He looked all lanky and sexy, his jeans dirty with motor oil.

“I'll see what I have,” Ken said, and went to look.

Case leaned a little closer to me, which made my heart all the more erratic and said, low, “His daughter is Katie.”

I giggled, whispering back, “Of the bleacher kissing?”

Case sent me his half-grin and nodded, and my eyes detoured straight to his lips; with no more than a few inches I could have been hardware-store-counter kissing him.

“Here we go!” Ken heralded, and I snapped my eyes to safer terrain.

Back outside, Case carrying my new battery, which I'd had to insist on paying for, as Ken wanted to make it a gift (a welcome-to-town sort of thing), he said, “I don't have my tools here. I'll get them from my place when we head over there.”

I felt incomprehensibly happy at this gift of extra, unexpected time with him, and did not want to waste even one millisecond. But I felt like I had to say, “You really don't have to do that. I mean, I feel guilty…can I at least pay you?”

We had reached his truck, parked in front of the law office, and he said, “That's just plain insulting.”

I guess I was good at that, though he politely refrained from saying so; I was thinking of exactly what I had once said to him, at my sister's wedding, and even though his eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, I was somehow certain he had the same evening in mind. I wondered if he would ever mention any of that while I was here; I was far, far too chicken.

“I didn't mean…” I faltered, and then jumped ahead to get the driver's side door for him. Smiling over my shoulder, I said, “Here, it's the least I can do.”

He was wearing his impassable face again, but he did say, “Thanks,” as he deposited his armload behind the front seat and I hurried around the hood to let myself into his truck. Already I felt much too at home, at ease, settling onto the leather of the seat.