The Perfect Husband - Lisa Gardner [88]
TESS WENT TO find J.T. The patio was empty, the pool flat. She felt the pinprick of unease.
Gravel crunched. She whirled toward the sound with her hands already fisted.
J.T. emerged from the side of the house, buck naked and wielding his gun. He didn’t even glance in her direction. He disappeared around the left side, his gun leading him forward.
She was still standing there stupidly.
J.T. rematerialized on the patio, his gun down by his naked thigh.
“I thought I heard somethin’,” he muttered.
“I—I didn’t see anything.”
“Yeah, well, you were staring at my butt.”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Just admiring the view.”
“Huh.”
He took two steps forward, one step back, and finally stood still. “Guess I’m just edgy.”
She contemplated him silently for a moment. “Did you really drink last night?”
“Yeah. One shot. Tequila. Lord have mercy on my soul.”
“I think it’s a little late for that.” She contemplated berating him. She contemplated calling him a fool. She decided in the end that neither was necessary. No one had ever been harder on J. T. Dillon than J. T. Dillon.
She said, “I need you.”
“Don’t.”
“Too late. You know what I’m up against, J.T. Marion’s told you enough about Jim. He’s going to come after me, and I have to be ready. We’ve done so well this last week. I can swim farther, I have some muscle tone. I can shoot a gun—”
“Barely.”
“Exactly! I need to learn more. I need you to teach me more. Be there for me, dammit. It’s only a few more weeks.”
“I can handle it,” he said stiffly.
“Are you sure? It’s not weak to call AA, J.T. It’s not weak to admit that you need help.”
“I’m fine! Don’t you have any hay bales to shoot?”
“None of them are as much fun as hounding you.” She walked right up to him. She could feel the heat and tension radiating from him, and it made her hot.
“Greedy,” he whispered.
“I learned it from you.”
He was growing hard. She could get him to want her again, get him to take her again. Here on the patio, or maybe beneath the mesquite tree, or maybe on a glass table. Maybe all three.
And then what?
She pushed herself away. His breath exhaled with a hiss.
“Get back on the wagon—”
“I stopped with one,” he interrupted tightly.
“Good. Don’t take it any further. Now go after Marion.”
His eyes widened incredulously. “What?”
“She needs you, J.T.”
He held up his forearm and pointed to the red welt. “Tess, open your eyes.”
“I have. And I’m telling you she needs you. Why do you think she ran away, J.T.? So that you would follow. So that finally someone would follow.”
“Marion could chew up an armored tank for breakfast, then spit out perfectly formed nails the rest of the day. End of story.”
He strode toward the sliding glass door. “You still want a teacher, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop standing there, yapping at me. This isn’t Club Med; get in your damn swim clothes. We’ll begin with weights, end in the pool. You got five minutes.”
“She’s scared,” Tess whispered behind him.
He said to them both, “Stop kidding yourself.”
“CAN I BUY you a drink?”
“I’m not stopping you.” Marion leaned over the pool table, where she was slowly and methodically annihilating all the men in the bar. The sun had gone down. The interior was darker and smokier than before. Her eyes had adjusted hours before, and now she didn’t notice the changes.
“Eight ball, left corner pocket,” she called. She lined up the shot, pulled back the stick, and slammed it forward with more force than necessary. The cue ball nailed the eight ball, slamming it into the faded green lip of the edge and forcing it to rocket into the corner pocket with a sharp clatter.
She straightened and raised her cigarette to her lips. Inhale. Exhale. “I believe you owe me twenty bucks.”
The man grumbled. She hadn’t caught his name. She didn’t care. He’d been better than the others, but still no match. He coughed up the money. She added it to her stack.
She turned and scanned the bar. She had the tickling in the back of her neck, that sensation of being watched. Of course, the whole damn bar was staring at her. She turned back to the