“Are you sure you’ll be ready in time?” he asked, referring to her state of undress when he’d gone to pick her up for their first date.
“It’ll mean keeping my distance from heavy machinery, but I’m sure I can arrange something.”
“Mm, what a shame. I kind of enjoyed the grease monkey look,” Jon admitted. “And where will you be taking me, Ms. Jacobs?”
“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, Mr. Bradshaw,” she said coyly.
Jon rubbed two fingers over his smooth chin. “What’s the attire?”
She hummed, pretending to think. “Very casual,” she decided.
“Jeans and T-shirt casual or business casual?” Jon had plenty of clothing hanging in his closet, but his dresser drawers came up short to an almost embarrassing degree when it came to anything less than top of the line. That was the danger in being wealthy. Everywhere you showed your face required nothing but the best from the cut of your hair down to the shoes on your feet. He longed for the casual style of his roots when he didn’t mind getting dirt on his knees or tears in his clothing. It sounded like Patricia was going to give that to him.
“Definitely jeans and a T-shirt,” she confirmed.
“Noted.”
“See you Saturday morning, then?”
“Count on it. Oh, and Patricia?” Jon said before she could hang up.
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night on your porch.”
“Me either,” she confessed.
“I can’t wait to kiss you again.”
“I can still taste you on my lips,” Patricia said.
Jon felt himself getting excited and decided it was time to cut it off before he lost control and drove to her place to finish what they’d started. “I’ll see you Saturday, and, Patricia?”
“Hmm?”
“Wear something short. If we’re going to be in public, I want those sexy legs at my disposal.”
“Okay,” came her breathy reply.
Jon ended the call and gathered up his jacket. His cock pressed firmly against his thigh as he climbed down from the truck and headed inside. If he were going to get through the next two days, he was going to need an ice-cold shower and some hard liquor.
Jon didn’t have hard liquor, but he did have ice-cold beer. Slumping down on the couch, he flipped on the television and settled in for some mindless evening programming. He’d made it halfway through an episode of Road Rules when his phone rang.
Leaning forward, he snatched the phone from the table, glanced at who was calling, and swiped the screen. “Hey, Mom,” he answered, “what’s up?”
“Nothing much,” she replied. “Just calling to check in and see how life is treating you.”
“Life is treating me great at the moment,” he said, grinning ear to ear as memories of Patricia in his arms came flooding back.
“I’m glad to hear that. And what about work? Have you found a new accountant yet?”
Jon’s lips thinned and he swallowed down a gulp of his beer. He was still a little bitter over that particular wrench, but there was nothing he could do about it aside from finding a suitable replacement. “No, nothing yet, but I have Poppy on the job so I can’t imagine it will take very long.”
“Poppy is such a nice girl,” his mother said passionately. “I really like that one. Is she dating anyone?”
Jon laughed. “Mom, don’t try to set me up. You don’t have the matchmaking gene. Besides, I’m pretty sure Poppy is spoken for.”
His Mom sighed. “Well, what a pity. I think she would have been perfect for you.”
Jon knew exactly who would be perfect for him, and it wasn’t Poppy.
“So your sister met someone,” his mom said, steering the conversation away from his love life. “He seems nice. I think he went to school with you,” she said, her voice rising in excitement. “Mike Sawyer?”
Of course he knew Mike. “Yeah, I remember him,” he said incredulously. “How could I forget? The guy used to spend the night damn near every weekend.” What he opted to leave out was the amount of trouble the two of them used to get into together. Even ten years later, he knew his mother well enough to know she’d have a fit if she ever found out about some of the things they used to do when the rest of the town was fast asleep.
Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure how he felt about his old pal dating his little sister, but he suspected that no matter what guy she brought home, they would never be good enough in his eyes. Although, he would be more than happy if she died a virginal old maid.
He voiced his concerns to his mother. “Tell Dad that when I come over for our next family dinner, he and I can team up on the guy and see what he’s all about.”
“Jonathon Michael Bradshaw,” his mother scolded, “don’t you dare! Your sister is as happy as a clam and I won’t have you boys trying to ruin it for her. Just let her be.”
“I promise not to ruin it,” Jon said whole-heartedly, “but you know as well as I do that this guy needs to go through the Bradshaw test. It’s tradition.”
She sighed in resignation. “Fine, do what you have to do, but keep it simple. Nothing too extreme, got it? I think she really likes this one.”
That was the last thing Jon wanted to hear. Casey was too good for any guy, especially any guy he had ever hung out with, but he wasn’t her warden. The best he could do is subject Mike to the best torture he could come up with and see if he had the wherewithal to stick around. “I’ll do my best to rein it in, but I can’t speak for Dad.”
“You let me worry about your father. So, what’s this about a new woman you’re dating?”
That threw Jon for a loop. “I don’t recall saying anything about dating anyone,” he said, confused.
“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t have to. It’s a mother’s job to know these things.”
“Are you spying on me?” He looked around the room, only half-joking. Still, temptation clawed at him to draw the curtains and shut off all the lights to check for any red, blinking lights hidden in the potted plants.
“Are you kidding? Where would I find the time?” she squeaked in protest. “Besides, that’s what the private investigator I hired is for.”
“I can totally see you doing that,” Jon said, somewhat serious. His mother loved her children so much, she’d probably move in with them if given half a chance just to make sure they had on clean underwear each day.
“You make me sound like such an ogre, Jon, seriously,” she complained.
“Then tell me how you simply knew I was seeing someone,” he challenged.
“It was the way you said life was treating you well. I could hear that dopey smile all the way through the telephone. So, who is she and when do I get to meet her?”
He did not have a dopey smile. Sometimes, Jon thought to himself, mothers could be just plain cruel. “Her name is Patricia Jacobs, and I don’t know. We’ve only been out the one time. It’s all very new still.”
She shrugged his excuse off. “New is good. New is exciting. So where did you take her for your date?”
“Just to dinner. She’s great, Mom,” Jon said softly, a hint of sadness seeping into his voice.
His mother’s tone softened to match his. “If you picked her, then I know she is.”
“I’m worried I’ll mess it all up,” he croaked. He swallowed past the growing lump in his throat.
“Oh, honey, as long as you don’t stand in the way of your own happiness, you won’t.”
The problem with that was that Jon had no idea how to step out of his own way. He wasn’t sure he even deserved to.
Clearing her throat, his mother switched gears. “You should bring her with you,” she chirped.
“What, to the dinner?” Jon asked, his brows pinching as he tried to keep up with her.