Carved in Stone Read online

  Yes, the biker was definitely intriguing to her, so Jessica stood and walked to perch on the bar stool beside him. She was very glad they were the only two patrons in the café at the moment. Jessica found it easier to flirt boldly when there was a smaller audience.

  “Hey, big guy, I’ll pay for your coffee if you take me for a ride,” Jessica offered, instantly drawing his full attention to her.

  His gaze traveled the length of her body before returning to her face and hair. “Very nice offer, but no can do. You need a helmet to ride and I don’t carry a spare.”

  Jessica blinked and grinned at his refusal, but only laughed low in her belly.

  Will noticed his body absorbed the sound of her laughter and vibrated pleasantly. Her reddish hair streaked with silver blond strands revealed her age as somewhere over forty, but no more than his shiny dome revealed he was way over forty himself.

  “Well, I wasn’t necessarily talking about your bike,” Jessica said on a laugh, liking the way his face actually flushed at her innuendo. The man was certainly not accustomed to flirting or playing games, she thought. It was a fact she found enormously appealing, and she appreciated the edge it gave her.

  “Well, I don’t have any safety of any sort, but could fix that if you can wait a bit while I go shopping,” he said on laugh, bringing his mildly embarrassed gaze back to her face, the amusement in his hazel eyes evident. “Does your offer have an expiration date?”

  Well, well, Jessica thought, her smile broadening at his teasing tone. There was a fun guy in that great body somewhere, and she was immediately interested in finding him. There was also a little something-something buzzing between them causing arousal to flare. She really loved that first flaring of genuine attraction. Even though she dated a lot of men, it had been a long time since she’d felt the real thing.

  “Well, I’d say my answer depends on what you intend to go shopping for,” Jessica said sweetly, leaning an elbow on the ancient counter, intentionally letting her shirt front gape to show both her breasts and the blue lace bra she wore.

  Ignoring the cleavage, which Will figured she knew damn well he noticed, he instead studied her intriguing face and the fullness of her hair. Then he let his gaze drop to her jean covered legs. She had very long legs encased in well-worn jeans that fit snugly and intimately to all of her.

  “I would buy a spare bike helmet, of course,” Will said sternly, keeping his laughing gaze focused in her lap as he spoke.

  Jessica laughed loudly and squirmed in her seat. Suddenly all of her was really interested in what that look of his was promising. Okay, the biker was good, very good, she reluctantly admitted. He just seemed out of practice, and Jessica couldn’t help wanting to know why.

  “Ms. Daniels, don’t be teasing Mr.—” Melanie began.

  “—Williams,” Will interjected firmly, interrupting Melanie’s introduction to introduce himself. “I’m Everett Williams, but you can just call me Will.”

  Melanie raised her eyebrows, but did not correct the proffered introduction. She did give William Larson—still Mr. Larson, her former Middle School Principal, to her—a questioning look and grin. He had just recently confided in her about his artistic nom de plume, and that he had used it to separate his art from the rest of his life.

  Today he evidently wanted to play the bad biker artist for Ms. Daniels. How interesting was that, Melanie mused? Brent was going to love this story, and she couldn’t wait for his return tomorrow so she could share it with him.

  Jessica put out a hand for Will to shake. “I’m Jessica Daniels. Sorry for teasing you. Melanie was my art student a couple years ago. I like to shock her with my flirting. It’s the cheapest entertainment I can find.”

  “Ms. Daniels, I was your student almost ten years ago,” Melanie corrected with a laugh.

  “Shush,” Jessica said, laughing. “I’m sure it was just two. What do you do, Will?”

  She ignored Melanie’s laugh as the girl wiped the counter.

  “I’m an artist—a sculptor. I carve people out of stone,” Will said easily. “What medium do you work in, Jessica?” He decided he liked her name and the way it sounded when he said it.

  “Life,” Jessica answered quickly, well practiced in giving a smoothly polished version of her story. “I teach high school kids to express themselves artistically. I haven’t wholeheartedly pursued my own art in years. Maybe you can show me your work sometime.”

  “How about today?” Will asked, the offer coming from some rusty place inside him. But after issuing the invitation, he smiled at how good it felt, how natural. He really would like to show her his art. “The art center in Berea has two pieces of my work on display, if you’re interested.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Jessica said, thinking that seeing his art did sound like fun for a first date. Spending time with a man who genuinely aroused her with just a look was equally appealing.

  Melanie walked back to them and slid a small tablet and pen over the counter. “I’m assuming you’ll need to exchange phone numbers and addresses,” she said to them both, laughing at her blatant interest in their conversation.

  Jessica smiled at Melanie, pulled the tablet toward her, and began writing down her information.

  Will studied her hands as she wrote, noticing the close trimmed nails and the total lack of a manicure. This was a woman who worked with her hands. He imagined her touch would be explorative but sure of its journey over him. Her grip would undoubtedly be strong.

  When his jeans got tighter the longer he watched her write, Will let out the laugh he’d been holding in since she sat down. It was nice to know Ellen hadn’t taken everything from him in the divorce. Thank you, Jessica Daniels, for being interesting, he mused, smiling at her.

  “Something funny about my writing?” Jessica asked him, noticing his warm, intimate smile.

  “No—something funny about being picked up by a woman in a café,” Will corrected.

  “Picked up? If that was the case, we’d be necking in the parking lot by now. Visiting the arts center with you is not exactly the same thing as taking you home with me for wild sex,” Jessica said, laughing. “You haven’t dated in a while, have you?”

  “No. I haven’t dated in a while,” Will agreed, liking her laughing face and her quick sense of humor, even if it was racier than he was used to. “And I am definitely out of practice when it comes to flirting.”

  Will slid off the bar stool and put a five on the counter next to his coffee cup. He took the paper Jessica tore off the tablet, smiling at the address on it. She lived in the same neighborhood as Michael, sort of the artist’s community in Lexington, Kentucky. She might not be creating art, but Will bet she lived the life.

  “You suddenly in a hurry now?” Jessica asked, fighting not to be disappointed that the man was so anxious to leave. “You haven’t even said what time we’re going.”

  “How about three?” Will asked, smiling at the mild irritation in her gaze. It was nice to think she wanted to spend more time with him.

  Grabbing his jacket, he reached over and turned Jessica’s bar stool with one hand, causing her to raise off the counter and bump into him as he stepped between her legs. Score one for the old rusty guy, Will thought, when her surprised gaze met his.

  “I need to run to the bike shop to buy a spare helmet. That’s going to take a couple hours because going there always does. Then I’ve got another stop to make before I pick you up,” Will said softly, looking directly into her laughing blue-green eyes.

  He slid both arms into the butter-soft leather jacket, standing as close as the stool would let him as he zipped it, all the while keeping his eyes focused on her lap, and enjoying the spread of her thighs on each side of the stool. It gave him ideas he hadn’t allowed himself in a hell of a long time.

  When Will finally lifted his gaze back to Jessica’s face, her color was high and her eyes were full of questions about his intentions. He smiled, his body tightening with the thrilling thought of answ
ering even one or two of them. He might be out of practice, but the laughing Jessica Daniels was certainly inspiring.

  “Is three o’clock okay?” Will asked, keeping his tone easy and his smile as innocent as he could.

  “My schedule is pretty free this afternoon,” Jessica told him, unconcerned with what Will might think of her not having plans. “The most exciting thing I’m doing today is laundry.”

  “Oh, come on—I’m not that much out of practice,” Will jokingly told her with a snort, finally stepping away from the stool. “I’m at least a couple notches more fun than washing clothes.”

  He laughed as he walked to the door and grinned when he heard her sputter.

  “Hey—who said I was doing you?” Jessica challenged, laughing openly at him now.

  She’d bet fifty bucks Everett Williams would run like hell if she made a real move on him, despite the bar stool thing. She hadn’t missed the quiver in his hands as he zipped up his jacket.

  “You started this, lady. You still want to go for a ride or not?” Will asked back, a wicked glint in his eye.

  “Yes. I still want to go for a ride,” Jessica said on a laugh. “Pick me up at three. If I don’t rush right down, give me a few minutes to put my laundry away. I like to take my time and do things right.”

  “Good to hear,” Will said, grinning as he pushed the door open and headed outside.

  Jessica and Melanie said nothing to each other as they watched Will pull the helmet over his head and strap it down. They didn’t speak until he started the bike and zoomed out of the parking lot.

  Jessica hummed in her throat, contemplating the interest she had seen in Everett Williams’ gaze. “I’ve honestly never wanted to go for a ride more in my entire life,” she said sincerely with more than a little bit of surprise.

  She laughed when she heard Melanie giggle beside her.

  Jessica looked over and grinned at the younger woman, whose face was now beet red. “Now how did that simple statement embarrass you? You’re married. I’m not saying anything you don’t know by now. If that’s not the case, I’m going to have a serious talk with your husband.”

  “No,” Melanie said, laughing. “I know what you mean, but he’s at least fifty and you’re what—mid-forties? Do you all really feel all that stuff at your age? I admit I had a little moment myself when he turned the stool and stepped between your legs. Brent is not going to believe he did that. We’ve both known him for years.”

  “Yes, you sweet innocent child―we still feel everything. Bodies get older, but they remain fully functional in most cases. Now what’s his deal?” Jessica asked, even as Melanie shook her head no. “Come on. I want to know the biker’s real story.”

  “Can’t tell you, Ms. Daniels,” Melanie said.

  “For pity’s sake, will you please call me Jessica?” Jessica insisted, making Melanie laugh. “I can’t joke about sex with a twenty-eight-year-old who still calls me Ms. Daniels.

  “Okay, fine, but I still can’t tell you, Jessica,” Melanie said on a laugh.

  “Tell me why he’s out of practice then—just that much at least,” Jessica pleaded.

  Melanie considered. It was probably a good thing to reveal that much. “Will was married forever. A year ago, his wife divorced him and married a younger man. He took the divorce hard. I don’t think he’s even been dating.”

  “Great,” Jessica said morosely, “another rebounder. I hate being the first woman for a divorced guy. Their guilt over their ex never lets it work out with anyone new. They have to go through three or four women before they get over it.”

  Melanie studied Jessica. She could practically feel the woman’s disappointment.

  “Maybe it will be different with Will. I know the man. If he hasn’t dated, there’s a good reason. Most divorced men I know date lots of women really fast. Geez, you know I never even thought of him as a hot guy, and now I may never be able to see him again without thinking about the stool thing.”

  “Yeah, what you witnessed was a prime male putting on a show for new female. And your instincts are dead on—Will is a seriously hot guy,” Jessica agreed. “What was his ex thinking? I’d bet my teacher’s retirement that man knows where all the buttons are and just how hard to push them. As long as the man was married, he probably learned to make a woman’s body sing the hallelujah chorus and hit the high notes. If he does anything interesting at all for an encore, I swear I may actually fall in love this time.”

  “Oh God, stop,” Melanie begged, laughing. “Brent won’t be back until tomorrow. It’s going to be bad enough sleeping alone tonight as it is. If you get lucky, will you come back and tell me about it?”

  “Sorry,” Jessica said, laughing. “I’m an outrageous flirt, but very discreet about what I do in the bedroom. You’ll have to get your vicarious thrill elsewhere tonight.”

  “But you are planning to do something interesting with Will?” Melanie asked teasingly. It was still hard not to call him Mr. Larson, but she was not going to blow his cover.

  “If that second stop of his turns out to be to buy condoms, I am absolutely planning to ride more than his bike today,” Jessica said. “That look in his eye was very promising.”

  Melanie’s body shook with laughter, but she was afraid to ask any more questions, no matter how tempted she was. She knew full well Jessica would tell her the truth and she was missing her husband enough as it was.

  “Well, laundry calls,” Jessica said, going back to the booth she had left and gathering up her things. “Next time I come by, we’re going to talk about some art for the outside of this place. Your food is great, honey. We need to draw in some customers. One lonely biker and a spinster do not a clientele make.”

  “Spinster? That so does not describe you. Come back and tell me about what happens. If it works out, we’ll put out the word that we’re a hook-up place for mature singles,” Melanie joked. Then she pointed a finger at the woman smiling at her. “But this is the last guy I fix you up with. If you don’t keep this one, I’m taking down my match-making shingle.”

  “I don’t think love works like that,” Jessica said, leaning over the counter. “Come here and let me hug you.”

  Melanie stood on her toes and accepted the hug Jessica offered. “Love is going to find you, Ms. Daniels. You’re too much fun not to have a guy in your life.”

  “You’re the sweetest thing—always were. I’m glad Brent Madison III talked you into marrying him. That boy was nuts about you since you were in that freshman art class together. Oh God, that really was more than ten years ago, wasn’t it?”

  Melanie laughed and nodded. “It was thirteen. I was being kind saying ten.”

  Jessica sighed. “Well, I’m going home now to soak my old head. How did I get to be forty-seven? Life goes by really fast.” She headed to the door. “Bye, sweetie,” Jessica said.

  “Good luck on your date,” Melanie said, sincerely hoping two of the nicest people she knew would find out they actually liked each other.

  Chapter 3

  Jessica walked to the living room window of her second story rental home and stuck her head out when she heard a bike roar up on the street and stop outside. The man looked just as good from up here, she thought, watching Everett Williams park the black monster, step off, and unzip the jacket to reveal his impressive chest. When the helmet came off, she laughed a little at the top of his shiny head reflecting in the sun. It was only a reminder of how real he was and didn’t dim her enthusiasm for him a bit.

  “Hang on,” she yelled, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  Will looked up to see a mass of red hair spilling over the laughing face smiling down on him. He hoped like hell they could be friends even if nothing else. Jessica Daniels’ sunny disposition turned on a light inside him, illuminating places that had been dark for a very long time. Her cheerful attitude was as appealing as the way she looked.

  “Take your time, gorgeous,” Will yelled up at her, making her laugh at his attempt at charm.
“But don’t keep me waiting too long.”

  Jessica laughed again and disappeared from the opening, leaving Will to wonder what he was going to do while she made him wait. The thought had barely found its way into his consciousness when Jessica bounded out of the house, all but running down the front sidewalk to him.

  He didn’t know yet how old the woman was chronologically, but he put her mental age at seventeen as she all but ran to him. She wasn’t even pretending to be coy, and her excitement to see him was on her face. The closer Jessica got to him, the more Will was reminded of the attraction he’d felt for her in the café. Suddenly, a friends-only option didn’t seem quite so appealing. Will ran a hand over his front jeans pocket, patting the just-in-case package it contained, glad now he’d made that second stop.

  Then Jessica was standing directly in front of him, and he was surprised as he realized she was almost eye level with his six-foot-two height. Will let his gaze travel down and back up once, not missing the amusement in her gaze on him as he did it.

  “You’re very tall for woman,” Will said, trying to justify his thorough scan of her body by stating the obvious.

  “So? Are you one of those big guys who wants a tiny woman to make himself feel even bigger?” Jessica asked, crossing her arms. “I can fake a lot of things for the sake of a first date, but being short isn’t one of them. I would fail miserably. I love being tall.”

  Will ran a nervous hand over his head and laughed softly. “No, I’m not one of those guys,” he said, leaving it at that.

  There was no reason to bring up his ex or her height or anything about any other woman he had dated ancient ages ago. Unfortunately, those memories were the only things Will could think about rationally with Jessica’s long body so close to his.

  Not used to dating, Will hadn’t had to make conversation with strangers—or strange women—very much since his divorce. He could feel Jessica’s energy spiking around him, jostling his nerve endings back to life. It scrambled his brain, along with some other parts of him that had him becoming more cautious around her.