Engaging in stupid chitchat with the boy had been just that—stupid. Jared didn’t do kids. Period. Hell, he barely associated with adults. If there was one thing his less-than-stellar childhood had taught him, it was to keep his distance, to disassociate from everyone and everything. But remembering what he should do had become damn near impossible around Jenny. Just like it had been when he was with Steven. No, Jared corrected himself, not like Steven. When he was with Steven, he sure as hell hadn’t been thinking about what he thought about every time he looked at Jenny.
Guilt nailed him. Again. Only a lowlife would lust after his best friend’s girl.
More than lusted, Jared acknowledged. His thoughts pretty much landed on the down and dirty. It didn’t matter that Steven was gone. Jenny was still his. It was there in her eyes, in the soft timbre of her voice every time she said his name—and even when she didn’t. And it was there on the diamond ring she still wore. “Thanks,” he said at the hallway, “but no thanks. I’ve got it handled.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said.”
Cody stopped trying to break free of his aunt’s embrace. “Forget it, Aunt Jenny. He doesn’t want me.”
A long-buried memory blindsided Jared. Damn it, he’d forgotten the kid was standing there. He tried not to look at Cody, but Jared knew he didn’t even have to look to know what he’d see. He’d heard it.
Doesn’t want me.
Cody stood at the edge of the counter, his shoulders stiff and erect, his chin pushed out into the air, his eyes flat and expressionless. From all outward appearances, he looked like he couldn’t give a rip about the discussion going on around him. But all that indifference was just a farce. No one knew that better than Jared. He’d perfected that exact pose by the time he was nine.
Shit.
“Hey, kid, why don’t you run out to the fridge in the hangar and grab us a couple of root beers?”
Cody looked like he was going to refuse, then shuffled his feet and headed out.
The screen door had no sooner banged shut than Jenny turned on him. “Don’t order him around.”
He faced Jenny, and every dirty thought he’d had while they’d been slipping around on the floor pummeled him once more. He wanted to strip off her clothes, lay her out on the hardwood, and do every sinfully delicious thing to her that had been haunting his dreams. “When did sending a kid out to get pop constitute ordering him around?”
Her eyes narrowed, and her full lips thinned into a hard line. It was an expression he was fast becoming all too familiar with.
Good. Stay pissed. Maybe it would keep his thoughts where they belonged.
She crossed her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts higher, exposing a fair amount of cleavage.
No, his thoughts weren’t going anywhere. Nowhere they should.
“It’s not even ten. A little early for a can of pop, don’t you think?”
He dragged his gaze off her chest. “Are you kidding me?”
She stared at him like he was an idiot. And frankly, he was beginning to think she was right. Especially when he was around her. “No one drinks pop at this time in the morning. Don’t you remember anything your parents taught you?”
“Right. My parents.”
She looked at him for several long moments, and slowly the angry expression eased from her face to be replaced by one of puzzled confusion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Listen,” Jared cut in. He knew that look, that I’m-about-to-ask-you-all-kinds-of-questions look. Questions he had no intention of answering. Long ago, he’d learned how to bury his past. But somehow Jenny seemed to see past all the walls he’d fortified over the years.
He had to get out of here. Out of this kitchen, out of this town. “I’m sorry about the kid,” he said, turning the conversation. “About offering him a soda. I just wanted him out of earshot.”
“Why?”
Doesn’t want me.
“Because no kid should have to listen to two people arguing about him.”
Jenny opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly baffled. “We weren’t arguing about Cody.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”
She narrowed her eyes again. “Do you always have to be so vulgar?”
He almost laughed. If she thought that was vulgar, it was a damn good thing she couldn’t read his thoughts. “Can’t help it. I’m a guy.”
“Like I haven’t noticed.” The moment the words were out, she took a step back.
He knew he should let it go. Leave it alone. Leave her alone.