Rock My World Page 4

  "That'll be fine. Enjoy your time off."

  Julianna grunted as she turned and left the office.

  Sitting in her car, working hard to fight the flood of tears, she tried to look at the bright side. She would have more time to help with the house now. As much as she put it on that she hated J.R.'s guts, a small part of her was excited about spending all day and all evening with him until the project was done. She hurried home, still wrestling the disappointment from losing out on the job.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "I 'm glad you have the extra time off," J.R. said sincerely. "We'll be able to get done sooner this way."

  "Sooner to be done and sooner for you to go back to Portland?"

  J.R. heard the bitterness and wondered what burr got under her saddle. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was getting used to him being around. "I'm going to ignore your rude comments today," he said.

  Julianna stopped in their walk to his truck and looked at him as though she was seeing him again for the first time, only without all the baggage. "I'm sorry."

  J.R. wobbled. Junior never apologized. He just stared at her.

  "I got some bad news at work."

  "What sort of bad news?"

  "None of your business." She started heading to the truck again.

  J.R. shook his head, trying to figure her out. "Look, Junior, I'm not trying to pry. I know there's some kind of animosity between us and you won't talk about it and I'm sorry for that. But we used to be good friends, and if you want someone to talk to, well, I'm still a good listener." They both opened the truck doors and slid in, like a syncopated dance.

  The olive branch flapped in the breeze for a few minutes while Julianna sized up J.R. He started the truck and headed for the road. The branch faltered.

  Then, without warning, she started talking. "I didn't get the job at the store."

  "The assistant manager job?"

  "Yeah."

  "Do you know why?"

  "Brad said someone else applied before me and had better experience."

  "I guess that makes some sense," J.R. offered. It wasn't the right thing to say.

  Julianna glared at him. "I was equally qualified. They decided they wanted someone from the outside."

  "Is that why they let you go on your vacation early? They felt bad about hiring the other guy?"

  "No," she said vehemently, "they wanted me to postpone it and train the guy!" Her voice rose as she spoke, and he remembered her bad temper. He prepared for the onslaught.

  "If they wanted you to train him, how did you get off earlier for vacation?"

  "I just said that's what I was going to do."

  "Weren't you worried they'd fire you?"

  "No, they're not that stupid. Brad Taylor knows I'm valuable to their team."

  Her acceptance confused J.R. In the past, Junior would have been ranting and raving about how unfair it all was, how stupid they all were, and how she would show them all. In a little corner of his mind he wondered where that fiery Junior had gone.

  "You're handling it well."

  Julianna turned to look at him. "Thanks. I've been working on my temper, trying to control my outbursts and think through things calmly."

  "Well, it's working. Good for you."

  The narrowness of her lips gave her away. J.R. knew the calmness was only a façade but at least she wasn't going off on a tangent and thank goodness this wasn't his fault.

  He maneuvered the truck into the parking lot at the local home improvement store. At least Cooper Springs was big enough for their own store and they didn't need to go far for supplies; not that this store would have everything they needed. Grabbing a cart while Junior fished the shopping list from her purse, J.R. felt a wave of the domestic scene they created wash over him. If things had been different after graduation, would they be here, toting along a toddler? They had talked about the future briefly when their friendship grew into something more their last year in high school. But all his plans disintegrated when he left for college and vowed never to return, never to allow another woman to have such a hold on his heart.

  Junior pointed to the paint department and suggested they start there. With a vague idea of what Mama wanted for the upstairs, J.R. was grateful she agreed to paint all the rooms the same color. An off-white type of beige color was all the direction she gave them.

  "I never dreamed there were eleventy-million shades of beige," Julianna said, running her hand over the sample cards lining the wall. "How do we know which one she'll like?"

  J.R. smiled. He'd missed Junior's fun sense of exaggeration. "Let's first decide on the undertone color. Like here," he said, pulling out a card from one of the stacks, "this color has a pink tint and this one," he said, pulling another card from another pile, "has a green undertone. What do you think?"

  "You're asking me my opinion?"

  "Be nice. I'm trying to do as Mama said and get along." The sadness that threatened to overwhelm him when he thought about how well they got along before stirred his heart.

  "Oh. Well then, I think I like the one that has a yellow undertone best because it will go with the oak floors. What do you think?"

  "Maybe," J.R. conceded. "I'd stay away from the pink undertone and the green. Maybe we should pick out several and let her choose."

  "I think we should just pick the color. After all, she won't be living in the house, and she doesn't need to be making any more decisions than necessary."

  "Agreed."

  "Wow. I didn't think that was possible."

  "What? Picking out a paint color?"

  "No. Agreeing on something."

  Without thinking, J.R. leaned down and whispered in Junior's ear, "There was a time when we agreed on almost everything as I recall."

  Julianna pushed him back, a flush on her cheeks and fire in her eyes. "Knock it off."

  There was that spit fire he remembered. Glad she wasn't entirely lost, it also didn't go unnoticed that she blushed when he got close. Maybe she didn't hate him after all. He just needed to find out what happened that turned her against him. Settling on a paint color, they finished off the list of supplies and took their haul to the truck. Back on the road, Julianna sat closer to the door than before. J.R. couldn't help but think, two steps forward, one step back. Still, at least she wasn't biting his head off.

  With every scrape of the putty knife, Julianna repeated to herself not to get close to J.R. That road led to nothing but heartache. Pushing her hair from her face, she worked the putty knife along the old wallpaper while bits and pieces of the flaky stuff floated through the air. Sometimes big chunks would come off at once and when that happened, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was a lot more work than she expected, and they were far from ready to paint. She eyed the four gallons of paint sitting just inside the door and thought of their trip to the store.

  When J.R. had stepped close enough to whisper in her ear, she had held her breath, demanding that the awakened butterflies go back into their cocoons. Julianna refused to be affected by him and yet her heart cried out for release. She couldn't believe she actually blushed when he spoke to her. She also couldn't stop the memories that assaulted her when he mentioned how well they once got along. It was lucky she told him to "knock it off" before she died from embarrassment. Putting more distance between them was the only strategy she could come up with at the moment and under the current circumstances, she wasn't too sure if that was even possible. The noise from J.R. bringing a ladder up the stairs brought her back from her thoughts, and she attacked the wall with gusto.

  "Here's the ladder," J.R. said, heaving it into the room and propping it against the wall that was already devoid of wallpaper on the bottom. "I'll start on the top part of the wall if you'll keep working on the part you can reach."

  "You know," she said. She just couldn't resist. "I can climb on a ladder."

  "I'm sure you can. But bending over to do the stuff down low will break my back."

  "So, it's entirely
selfish, keeping me off the ladder?"

  "Absolutely."

  But when Julianna looked up and got caught in his gaze, his eyes sparkled with mischief. Her heart jumped and she couldn't stop a slight smile from working its way to her mouth.

  "Careful."

  "What?"

  "I saw that smile. You better watch it, or you might just enjoy yourself."

  "Shut up." The smile was gone. She turned back to the wall. "There's one of those little rolling benches out in the garage that mechanics use that we could bring up here to do the low stuff. It'll save both our backs."

  "Okay. Next time I'm in the garage, or if you're in the garage first, let's bring it up here. That'll make it easier to do the painting, too."

  They worked in silence for a while; Julianna scraping, J.R. working on the wall behind her. Several hours later, flakes and peeling paper covered the floor and the walls looked smooth enough to paint. J.R. pulled the shop vacuum he brought up from the basement into the room. Before vacuuming, he set to work picking up the old wallpaper. It took more than one black garbage bag to get all the trash loaded. When J.R. opened the window and stuffed the bags out, allowing them to land on the side of the house Julianna started to laugh.

  J.R. joined her.

  "That's genius," she said, a smile—a genuine smile—reached across her face.

  "Thank you, thank you very much." J.R. bowed.

  Maybe working with J.R. wouldn't be terrible, she thought. They did have some great times back in the day. She wouldn't lose her heart just because she enjoyed the time she spent with him. Would she?

  The drone of the vacuum drowned out Julianna's thoughts as J.R. swept the floor. Grabbing a drink from her water bottle in the hall, she glanced at her phone and noticed they had finished quicker than she expected. A feeling of satisfaction rested on her as she contemplated the next step. Would they paint this room now, and then move on to the others? Or would J.R. want to get all the demolition done first? She surprised herself by not having an opinion and smiled again, imagining the shock on his face when she suggested he decide.

  Letting her guard down just a little had its rewards and Julianna couldn't deny the lightness of her spirit having given in. She'd try harder to be a team player for Mama's sake, but there were other benefits, too. The time had come to be honest with herself.

  "What's next?" she asked, the bounce in her voice breezing through the room.

  "Let's take a break," J.R. suggested.

  "Great idea. I think Mama actually baked cookies this morning," she said, heading to the top of the stairs.

  J.R. followed right behind her, so close she could feel his warmth radiating onto her back. Turning half-way down the stairs to tell him to back up a little, she wasn't prepared for him to plow right into her. Hanging onto the railing, J.R. pulled her against his chest to keep her from falling and held on tight. Time stopped while they stood there in the middle of the stairway, wrapped up together. He felt good. The way his arms encased her shoulders was like coming home; a home Julianna had only dreamed about since high school. She couldn't help herself from reaching around his waist and looking up into his eyes. They turned dark and intense, and she started to lift her chin as his mouth came ever closer until they were within a breath of touching.

  Crash!

  Julianna and J.R. both jumped apart and looked at the bottom of the stairs where the remnants of a vase full of flowers puddled among chards of glass on the floor. Mama stood with her hands out in front of her, frozen in place as her eyebrows buried themselves in her bangs. Time stood still. Julianna was sure she was at least as red-faced as J.R. No one said anything, until at length, Mama coughed and backed up a step.

  "Nice to see you're getting along better," she said as she turned and walked away, presumably to get something to clean up the mess.

  CHAPTER SIX

  J. R. could not believe he had almost kissed Junior. Taking her hand, he pulled her down the steps, letting go when he jumped over the flowery puddle. Reaching back for Junior, he laughed in spite of the situation and her steely glare. She jumped past him and headed for the kitchen without looking back.

  Catching up before she made it far, he pulled her tense shoulders back toward his chest and whispered, "Don't pretend you weren't as committed to that outcome as I was. If Mama hadn't interrupted..."

  "If Mama hadn't interrupted, I would have made a big mistake!" she whispered back.

  "I don't think kissing you—"

  "Just stop talking, okay? We'll just let it go." J.R. heard her quietly mutter, "Just when things were going so well..."

  "Fine," he said.

  "Good."

  "For now," he added.

  "Whatever."

  They passed Mama, headed out of the kitchen with a broom, dustpan, and a couple towels draped over her arm.

  "Mama," he said, "do you need some help?"

  "No, you two go on. I'll take care of it." He could have sworn she was chuckling.

  Julianna opened the top of the round porcelain cookie jar decorated like a merry-go-round. Mama had used the same cookie jar for as long as J.R. could remember; yet another memory that reminded him he'd been gone too long. He blinked when he realized Junior was offering him two chocolate chip cookies, his favorite. He sensed a little subterfuge on Mama's part.

  Sitting at the table, they each kept to their own thoughts. J.R. sneaked glances at Junior's face to see if he could decode her expression. The conflict he saw gave him hope. But hope for what? Sure, he didn't deny he was attracted to her. He always had been. And she had grown into a beautiful woman. Her long wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes had always held him captive. She was a bit curvier than when she was in high school, and it looked good on her. The Hobsons had practically starved her when she was a teenager. Mama had made sure there were plenty of cookies in the cookie jar back then, and J.R. knew she really baked them for Junior. If he stayed in such close proximity to her, would he try to kiss her again? What if Mama wasn't there to interrupt them? Did he want to be interrupted?

  Swallowing the cookies down with a glass of milk, J.R. wiped his face and said, "Let's go out to the garage and see if we can find that rolling bench."

  "Sure," she said quietly.

  Holding the back door for Junior to pass through, J.R. felt the vibe of confusion. He decided against mentioning anything about what happened on the stairs again.

  When they reached the detached garage, J.R. held his breath. Images of them secretly meeting in the dusty garage senior year wouldn't go away. It didn't feel much like moving on. Leaving Junior outside and slipping in through the side door, he flipped the light switch on and pushed the button for the garage door opener. It would be hard to see anything without the big door open. But although the opener struggled to work, it finally gave up, leaving the door stuck tight and the light attached to the opener flashing. J.R. pawed through the dirty piles of boxes, tools, and yard equipment until he could pull the cord to disconnect the garage door opener.

  Shouting through the door, he called to Junior, "Can you lift the door?"

  "I'll try," came the muffled reply.

  A minute later, the door slowly creaked open, and J.R. reached down to help Junior lift it. Rusty rails and years of neglect resisted the movement, but in the end they prevailed. Unfortunately—or fortunately—J.R. was standing in the center of the opening, and he had equal leverage on the door, just like Junior had from the outside. With the door raised, they stood, holding the bottom of the door at the top of their reach and standing only inches apart. J.R. lifted the door a little higher—the benefit of being taller—and Junior released the door and stepped back. He couldn't tell if she was disappointed that he raised the door out of her reach or not. Shaking his head to send his thoughts back to the corners of his mind, he gave one last heave to the door and it slid the rest of the way up.

  "Let's see what we've got here."

  "What a mess," Julianna said. "I haven't been out here in ages."

&n
bsp; "I think it's just like I left it," J.R. said slowly as he scanned the heaps of everything imaginable. Dark, dusty covers hid some of the "treasures" from view, and J.R. made a mental note that they should go through this space, too, before selling. Otherwise, it would be necessary to do it after it sold and then they really would be on a deadline. Not that they didn't have a deadline now, he reminded himself. The image of his business and apartment in Portland came into focus.

  Julianna brushed her hand along a dirty box. "Eeww," she said.

  J.R. laughed. "I don't remember you being afraid of a little dirt."

  "This isn't a little. It's a lot."

  "Come on," he said, "let's find that bench."

  Slowly they made their way through the junk in the little garage. Bit by bit, they pushed things aside and uncovered yard equipment and tools. In the back of the room, J.R. uncovered the two 4-wheelers he and his dad used to run around town with. "Wow, I forgot all about these."

  "I remember…" Julianna’s voice faded as she ran her hand along the seat, pushing down into the softness.

  "We used to take these down the trails behind Mr. Johnson's place."

  "Oh, yeah. Remember when I tipped mine over and it almost landed on me? You weren't even sorry it happened. You said it was great because now I would have an awesome 'wheeler story.' What a crock! I had bruises for days from that crash."

  "It was awesome. I was proud of you for getting back on it and riding it home."

  His comment was met with silence, and J.R. waited while he worked his way around the wheelers.

  When Julianna spoke, he almost didn't hear her; her voice barely a whisper. "I guess it was pretty great, after all."

  Julianna couldn't help but get caught up in the memories. Every time she looked at J.R., she thought about the best times of her life, all with him. She knew everything about him. At least, she thought she did until the end of senior year. Looking back, she wondered whether she should have asked more questions instead of jumping to conclusions. But in the end, it had to be over anyway. She would never bring it up to J.R. Focusing on the earlier years was better for everyone all the way around. Denying he could still make her heart race was silly but acting on the impulse she felt on the stairs would be sillier.