“Not always.” Gillian settled on a tall stool. “She can be nice, and has been just often enough for me not to completely hate her. But since she was here because she saw your truck, she laid it on thick.”
Jack opened the fridge door, grinning at the carton of eggs and milk. He piled both on the counter and reached for the loaf of bread sitting beside a glass flour container. Setting the frying pan on a burner, he turned it on. “Are you okay? Seemed like she was close to resorting to force…”
“Oh, you mean hit me?” Gillian flushed and plucked at the counter. “Um, you sure you don’t want me to make breakfast?”
Jack turned the burner off and spun round to grasp Gillian’s hands. “Gilli, I don’t want you to make me coffee or breakfast. I want to help. I need to be here for you. Granted, I don’t know your mother, don’t really want to, but I do know you. Talk to me, please. If there’s a way I can help, I’d be happy to.”
Gillian shuddered, her eyes darting away from his, a lone tear slipping down her face. “I don’t know why she’s the way she is. I tried having no contact, but she always finds a way around it. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, hey.” Hurrying around the island, Jack pulled her into his arms. “Lean on me, and don’t apologize for her. She’s a big girl.” Rocking her back and forth, Jack let her cling to him, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Anger stirred, stoked by the memory of Barbara’s little digs at Gillian’s self-confidence. It didn’t take a genius to see Barbara’s dislike of Gillian went far deeper than a lack of style.
He cupped the back of Gillian’s head, letting her cry. A faint smile curled his lips as she pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “Now, where’s the coffee grinds? I’ll make a pot of coffee, and then breakfast, and we can figure out what to do this afternoon.”
“Of course, in the pantry.” She pointed at the slim door next to the stove. “Coffee is in the red tin.”
“Thanks.” Jack opened the door and stared. Just like the last time he’d been in her house, every shelf was crammed full of food, organized and dated. Tucked in behind a box of cereal, he noted the corner of the Tupperware container. He frowned. Tempted to sneak a peek, he grabbed for the red coffee box, only to swear at the beeping from his jacket pocket.
“Uh-oh, that sounds serious.”
“Naw, probably Brad forgot to put something away and now no one can find it.” Jack groused as he grabbed his pager. He clicked a couple of buttons and heaved a breath. Recognizing the name and number, he swore under his breath. Two guesses what it was about. Not wanting to upset Gillian, he offered a weak smile. “Guess I’ll take a rain check on the coffee. Lenny needs to see me.” Didn’t take Barbara long to go running to my boss over this. The thought drifted across his mind, stirring his anger.
“Oh, okay.” Gillian flushed, her gaze dropping to the counter top. It didn’t take a genius to realize she was feeling more than a hint of vulnerability. Lenny’d been right, she wasn’t a one-time deal. “I suppose I should clean this mess up.”
Jack pulled her into a hug, dropping a kiss on her nose. “You know what, screw Lenny. If he wants to talk to me, he can wait. It’s not like he has anything of importance to tell me, other than I upset his wife. You wanna take in a movie?”
“I really shouldn’t.” Gillian’s flush deepened. “I, uh, have to find a new place to live. One I get by myself without my mother’s input.”
“Well then, let’s go house hunting instead. I have a few friends with rentals. Might not be anything as nice as this, but they’re affordable.”
Gillian’s eyes narrowed, doubt flaring in them. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you be that nice to me?” Gillian bit her lip, tears pooling in her eyes. “No one is that nice to me. I’m either invisible or the whipping post for my mother’s irate behavior. I’m not…”
“I’m not being nice for any particular reason other than I like you.” Jack cupped her face. “For the first time in a long time, Gilli, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I want to learn with you.”
Gillian shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ll apartment shop on my own. Besides, by now my mother’s probably told half the town how much of a loose cannon I am, or that I’m a whore or something just as unsavory, and I’ll be lucky to get a hotel room, much less an apartment.”
Jack paused, sensing her refusal was more because of a deep-seated need to prove something to her mother, and perhaps to herself. Still, it hurt to see her struggling so much when he could make a quick call. “Well the offer stands. But first, breakfast, the only way to start the day.” Quick, hard, his kiss skimmed her lips before he gathered his shirt, crammed his feet into his loafers, and grabbed his coat. “Oh, your mother called last night and she didn’t sound happy.”
“Let me guess—she stopped calling around two or three.”
“Yep.”
“Typical. Calls till all hours of the night, then comes by to bitch and moan.” Gillian tugged her robe closed and smiled awkwardly. “Thank you for last night.”
Idly, Jack wondered why he felt like he was getting a brush off. With a sickening sensation in his gut, he stared at her. She wasn’t brushing him off. In spite of the hot sex, she was as innocent as a virgin and just as clueless. She was trying to protect her heart.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble with…”
“Let me worry about them. Now, come on. I have an idea on how we can spend some quality time together.” He nudged her toward the
