Rescue Me(36)

“Don’t be a baby.”

And just like that, she thought it might be okay. She might be able to live with the image of Tallie in his arms, come to terms with the fact he’d chosen a night out with a reporter over fixing her plumbing with her.

Because he was still here. Her friend. She at least had that.

Now she just felt pitiful. Jess put her hand on the peas and inched away. “Thanks for the donuts.”

“Aw, Jess, I’m sorry.”

Huh?

She just stared at him, his words so unexpected she felt as if he’d reached into her heart, put a hand around it. Squeezed.

“Um, for . . . what?” She tried a casual, easy smile, but heat had rushed to her face and she knew he could see right through her.

Crazily, she thought she just might start to cry. Talk about an overreaction.

She grabbed the donut bag, brought it to the table, and opened it. She stared into the bounty without seeing it.

“For not showing up to help you with your plumbing yesterday.”

Right. That.

Not for the Tallie thing, because, really, why might he apologize for taking out a cute girl on a date?

“It’s fine, Pete,” she managed, and thank you, even kept her voice even.

She pulled out a raised glazed. Handed him the bag. “You are most definitely forgiven.”

He had a sort of sweet confusion in his eyes, and it flushed all the annoyance out of her.

Then, “Really?”

“Pete, you don’t have to apologize. You have your own life and are under no obligation to help me put my house together.”

She looked down at her exceedingly grubby clothing. Paint had covered her T-shirt, turning it hard and crispy. And her jeans were so soiled with dirt, grease, plaster, and dust she could probably prop them up, assign them their own project.

Pete selected a cake donut with chocolate frosting. She could have predicted that.

“I did stop by yesterday around lunchtime, but you weren’t here. I probably should have simply made myself at home.”

Oh, he hadn’t a clue how his words stirred hope in her.

A home. Preferably with Pete in it.

Yep, she was going to cry. She walked past him to the fridge, hunting for a container of orange juice, blinking fast.

“Like I said, Pete, this is my mess. You don’t have to help.” She put the orange juice on the counter, found a napkin, and set the donut on it, then wiped her fingers and found two glasses.

Pete leaned against the counter. “I know. But that’s what friends do, right?”

Hmmm. “Right.” She poured the orange juice.

“Besides,” he said, “when I didn’t see you last night at the Gray Pony, I thought maybe, well, I should probably stop by today and see how it’s going.” He made a face as he took in her appearance. She had so much grit in her hair, she should call it a spa treatment. “Losing the war, are we?”

“Just the battle.” She lifted her glass to him. “But I am undeterred. There is a plumbing leak in them thar walls and it can’t hide from me.”

His mouth tweaked up and again, strangely, all was right with the world.

He drank to her toast, then shucked off his jean jacket. “How about if we hunt it down together?”

Oh, her traitorous heart. “Pete, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to do that. Besides, if I go home, Sam is going to kill me for not picking up my mom yesterday from the hospital.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I forgot. I . . .” And then it appeared like maybe he’d gone too far into that conversation because he blew out a breath, gave a half-chuckle. “Okay, I drove into the park with Tallie Kennedy for the day, and sort of . . . well, lost track of time.”

And if she needed proof that they were Just Friends, that was it. Pete, telling her about his romances. Super.

But she could take it, because Pete was here with her, not with Tallie, at least right now.

She didn’t want to think beyond that fact.

“Did you have fun?” Her words came out on their own, clearly unattached to her heart, from the part of her that was just Jess, his buddy. Then, “Tallie’s really cute.”

Pete glanced at her, then gave a quick shrug. “She’s okay.”

Okay. And the green-eyed monster inside Jess wanted to give a fist pump.

“She wrote an article about me.”

“I know, I read it.” She held the glass to hide her smile. “You’re such a hero, Pete.” She batted her eyes at him, affected a damsel-in-distress voice. “Will you save me?”

“Oh, you’re hilarious.” But he grinned, and finally, finally, it all reset. Their friendship, the easy flirting and banter between them.

They would be okay. And when he picked up the peas and tossed them to her with a “Don’t make me dig out the carrots,” she stopped feeling pitiful.