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Just thinking about the things Andrew had done to her, with her, for her, brought a flush of heat to Jill’s cheeks. She burned with embarrassment at the thought that Nora or Lydia might find out about her and Andrew. She and Andrew may not be teenagers anymore, but she suddenly felt like one.
She called Rev back inside and gave him a cookie, then pulled on her boots again before heading to Nora’s house. Lydia answered Jill’s knock and Nora called out to Jill from the sitting room off the front entrance.
“Jillie, honey, we’re having tea in here.” Jill turned into the sitting room with Lydia following behind her.
“Nora, I was so sorry to hear about your hip.” Jill meant every word of her greeting. She had always liked Nora.
Nora didn’t act anything like a grandmother and had always been fun. Nora and Lydia had been genuinely interested in Jill when she visited over the years.
“Oh, pish!” Nora waved a hand through the air dismissively. "It’s fine. I’m almost back to normal now. I’ll be out and about in no time, thanks to that brute of a physical therapist who comes to torture me four times a week. Andrew hired him to torment me.”
Jill felt herself blush at the mention of Andrew. Trying to calm her nerves, she sat in a wingback chair while Lydia poured tea and offered Jill a cookie.
“Now then,” Nora said, “tell me what’s going on with you and my grandson.”
Jill barely managed to choke down the sip of tea that was in her mouth without spitting it out from pure shock. Why she would be shocked that Nora would be so blunt, escaped Jill at the moment. The woman never was one to beat around the bush.
“Uh, well…” she struggled for words to respond. Lydia settled herself in next to Nora, looking like she was getting ready for a good tale.
“Please, dear. I know he’s graduated from watching you through the windows to crossing the backyard and driving his car up and down your driveway several times this week. I assume Andrew’s grown up enough that he hasn’t begun peeping in your windows or anything like that. So, fill me in. What are your intentions with my grandson?”
“My intentions? I, uh, well.” Jill paused, racking her brain for a response. “We’re just spending time together. Yes, spending time together,” she explained as firmly as she could.
“Oh, bother. I had rather hoped it was more serious than that. He needs someone to help him forget what that witch of a fiancée did to him. I thought maybe you’d finally be the one to help him get past that. He’s always loved you, after all.” So much of what Nora said left Jill stunned. She didn’t know which part of that statement was more confusing.
Fiancée? Always loved Jill?
“Oh, um, it’s not really like that. I’m not really ready for any kind of serious relationship after my husband, well, after that whole debacle.” Jill felt the blood rush to her face yet again and wondered if Nora realized Jill was sleeping with Andrew.
“Well, don’t worry. My grandson’s got a reputation for being good in the sack, so he’ll help you forget that damn fool you married,” Nora said matter-of-factly. Lydia looked on and nodded in agreement over the rim of her cup of tea while Jill’s face flamed hot and red.
“Oh!”Well, so much for wondering.Jill sat in stunned silence for a few moments, not at all sure what to say to that, but Nora and Lydia had apparently moved on to other topics.
They began to pepper her with questions about her photography, whether her grandparents might return for the summer, her dog – and when Rev could come by for a visit. By the time Jill left an hour later, they had covered every topic imaginable.
Unfortunately, all Jill could think about was the fact that Andrew had once had a fiancée he hadn’t mentioned, that he’d supposedly loved Jill for years and that his grandmother knew she and Andrew were shacking up.
Andrew wasn’t sure what had come over him where Jill was concerned. He’d told her he would pick her up for dinner, but for some unknown reason, he decided to cook for her.
That afternoon, he found himself at the grocery store, picking up fixings for the only meal he knew how to make: chicken and pasta with French bread. He grabbed a couple bottles of wine and a pie for dessert.
As he drove to Jill’s, he tried to figure out just what the hell was going on. How had this woman gotten under his skin so damn far and so damn fast? Why the hell didn’t he have any desire to try to shake her?
At first he thought things were different with her because she was the only woman he had ever hooked up with that was also a part of his circle of friends. Or maybe it was the fact he and Jill had known each other for so many years. Or that they spent time together as friends before being intimate.
He exited the highway and began the series of turns that would bring him to the side-by-side estates where he and Jill lived. All day, he’d thought about last night.
Yes. There’d been thoughts of holding her, touching her, tasting her that grabbed him. But, he also wanted to talk to Jill, laugh with her, see her damn dog. He wanted to tell her that he had some ideas for places they could travel to for her photography.
Oh, shit.Was he really making plans for them to travel together?
He needed to figure out how to stop this. To slow shit down before things went too far. He knew the only way to stop the escalation of this relationship was to stay away from Jill altogether, because as long as he was around her, he couldn’t stop the feelings, no matter how hard he tried.
Who the hell was he kidding? He couldn’t stay away from her at this point. There was no fighting the pull he felt toward Jill, no trying to ward off what was happening. Andrew knew at that moment, he needed to be around Jill like he needed air to breathe.
Chapter Eighteen
Jill sipped the glass of wine Andrew had poured her and watched as he simmered sauce and stirred pasta into boiling water. If anyone had asked Jill an hour ago if there was any way an apron could make Andrew Weston look sexy, she’d have thought they were nuts.
