Because the promise of it actually being a good thing and that not coming to fruition would be cataclysmic.
“Deanna—” I tried.
“So,” she spoke over me, “three long, agonizing, heartbroken years and Johnny Gamble gets a call from his ex, his Juliet, his Guinevere, his Scarlett, but he has a date planned with you. After this call, he knows he’s got no choice and is gonna end it between you two but for some reason that’s out of character for this guy, he goes through with the date anyway. He also buys you ten bottles of wine to choose from during said date so you have a better shot at having exactly what you want.”
He’d, of course, done that. It had seemed sweet at the time.
It seemed sweeter now.
I continued to stare across my desk at her sitting in one of the chairs opposite me and tried again, “Deanna—”
“During this date, he has sex with you, knows it’s wrong, in fact so knows it’s wrong and he’s so cut up about it, he can’t sleep. You wake up and he delivers a tortured speech about how he’s done you wrong and how his ex messed him up so bad he can’t be all you’d need him to be if things went further with you. You two decide to be friends, but he doesn’t then take you to your car, load up your dogs and give you a kiss on your cheek, telling you to drive safe home. He makes out with you then leads you to his bed and sleeps with you tucked close.”
He’d done that too. And it had also seemed sweet at the time but definitely sweeter now.
And as she talked I was realizing, as much as I loved her, that maybe I shouldn’t share so much with her.
“De—” I started but that was as far as I got.
“You don’t see him, hear from him, then he shows at The Star and he doesn’t walk by you, give you space, take his seat with his second father and the only mother he ever knew, tipping his chin to you if he catches your eye in that hot way hot guys have of saying pretty much anything when they don’t feel like speaking. He stops and he doesn’t say hey or how’s it going. He right off the bat asks you if you’re alone.”
I felt my heart start beating harder because I hadn’t thought about that.
And I gave up trying to interrupt. Deanna was getting something straight and I should have learned a long time ago just to let her.
“Which says, obviously, he was thinking you might be on a date and one could read into that he might not like that much,” she went on. “At all,” she stressed.
Yes, one could read just that.
“So then,” she carried on, “the only mother he ever knew invites you to dinner—”
“She didn’t invite me, Deanna. She pretty much just told me I was eating with them,” I cut in to share.
Deanna kept talking like I didn’t.
“And he’s Johnny Gamble, all that’s Johnny Gamble. He could find a way to make that not happen but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even begin to fight it. He just gives you an out should it be bothering you so much you can’t go through with it, sharing he’d take care of it . . . but only then. Other than that, he doesn’t say boo.”
I bit my lip.
He’d done that too.
Deanna kept at it.
“The situation with Kent comes out, Johnny loses his mind, drags you out of the restaurant, demands you phone him if something goes down then tells you he wants to do you against The Star and take your panties as a souvenir.”
My clit pulsed at the reminder.
Yes, I definitely needed to share less with Deanna.
“And when you bring her up,” she continued, “he won’t even allow you to speak about her. Not because he doesn’t want to talk about her but because he refuses to allow her to get between whatever you two are to each other.”
My heart pulsed at that.
“Yes,” I whispered when she stared at me and said no more.
At this point she said more.
“And you’re barely through the door home before he texts you.”
I was.
Last night, I’d barely gotten through the door before Johnny was texting me.
“Yes,” I repeated.
And then it came.
The declaration.
And the pulse it gave me was more like a shockwave throughout my system.
“This guy is into you.”
“Deanna—”
“I don’t wanna say it,” she told me. “Heck, I didn’t even think I ever would say it. But I’m saying it. Johnny Gamble is into you. Nope, that isn’t it. That man is into you.”
“Shandra’s back or coming back or—” I started.
She shook her head, lifting her hand shaking that too, and interrupted me.
“Make no mistake, that boy’s messed up. She’s got him twisted still and he’s in a bad way about it. But that hold she’s got on him is in its death throes, Iz. He got jacked by a stupid woman who threw away probably the best thing she was ever going to have and that tore him up. And then he met you.”
I was feeling warm inside. So warm I felt it everywhere and it was beginning to burn.
“I told him I couldn’t do just sex and he agreed with that, Deanna,” I reminded her. “So it’s clear he wants sex without anything weighing on that or just to be friends.”
“Yeah, nonverbally he agreed. Also nonverbally he held your hand all the way back to the table, served your mushrooms first, kept touching you all through dinner, walked you to your car and texted you almost the minute you got home.”
Definitely needed to stop sharing so much with Deanna.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I said softly.
“I got men friends and none of them squeeze my neck, rest their arm on the back of the booth we’re sitting in, touch my thigh, tinker with the bracelet on my wrist or walk me to my car even before I had Charlie, who would break their neck if they tried any of that shit.”
The first thigh touch wasn’t the last one last night.
And the tinkering with the bracelet thing had come after Margot had said she’d admired it. I’d told her it was my mother’s and about ten minutes later, after the dinner plates were swept away and before the dessert Margot insisted we have was served (and when I said I was too full, she decreed I could share Johnny’s, and when his arrived, she demanded I share Johnny’s, so I shared Johnny’s) Johnny had become fascinated with it.
Which meant I exerted some effort not to become fascinated with Johnny’s fascination with it.
By the way, I failed at this.
And by the way, Margot didn’t miss any of it.
Margot’s machinations weren’t hard to decipher. She elongated dinner to the point we’d closed the place down and she’d done it in an effort to get to know me better and force me to spend time with Johnny.
Dave hadn’t resisted, because Dave wouldn’t only throw his hanky over a puddle so her shoes wouldn’t get wet, he loved her so deeply, he’d throw himself bodily over that puddle.
That said, Dave was totally on board also to force me to spend time with Johnny.
Johnny hadn’t resisted for reasons I refused to think about.
That was, he hadn’t resisted until it became clear Margot didn’t care they were setting up the restaurant for lunch the next day and wanted us gone. She’d have talked to the wee hours of the morning if she could get away with it.
But I’d yawned.
I’d tried to be inconspicuous about it but Johnny had seen it.
Within two seconds the night was over.
No, I refused to think about any of his reasons.
Until now when Deanna was making me think of them.
“You need to ride this out,” Deanna advised quietly.
“Doll—” I began.
“Baby girl, no way I’d set you up for this kind of fall if I didn’t think it was worth the risk.”
“Three weeks ago you were telling me to be careful of getting in too deep with Johnny Gamble,” I reminded her.
“That was before the ten bottles of wine and the communication of his
desire to do you against the wall of The Star.”
It was indeed before all of that.
She wasn’t finished.
“And three weeks ago Shandra hadn’t called him and forced him to take a good look at his life and what he had in it. You been spending the last two weeks cut up about something you wanted that was never meant to be. I think last night states clear Johnny Gamble spent the last two weeks the same exact way.”
“I can’t think of it like that. We’re friends. It may take some work to get to that place but we’re just going to be friends,” I stated firmly. “He heard about Kent and got protective because he’s that kind of guy.” I paused and then added, “And I had on a pretty dress.”
“Babe that dress is fine, and you look fine in it, and Johnny Gamble could want a piece of that action but Johnny Gamble would never go for that, say one word about it. For you and your peace of mind, to keep things where they need to be between you two, he’d control the urge, put it in the back of his mind and keep on keepin’ on. That is, he’d do that if he didn’t want a piece of what was in that dress because of who was wearing that dress. He might not have consciously intended to make you think about him doing you against the wall of The Star all through dinner, but I don’t think he’s too cut up about knowing you spent half that dinner thinking about him doing you against the wall of The Star.”
“That’s not Johnny, he isn’t like that,” I told her somewhat heatedly, the heat coming from defending Johnny.
“Precisely,” she retorted, reading the heat.
Sometimes I really hated when Deanna got things straight.
“My advice doesn’t change,” she announced. “Be careful. Look after you. But it also has changed because I know you, Izzy. I know how beautiful you are right down to your bones. I know that runs so deep, it spills out everywhere. I don’t know Johnny Gamble to throw him but I know enough to know the man isn’t stupid. He caught that. He caught your sweetness and he definitely caught your honesty, and he caught you being gentle about understanding where he was at and not ending it ugly but ending it compassionately, trying to salvage some part of what both of you felt brewing between you. Again, I don’t know Johnny and I also don’t know what happened to him and Shandra. But just like anyone else in Matlock, I paid attention because it was just something you pay attention to.”
She paid attention because she was nosy.
I didn’t interrupt her to share that. I also didn’t have a chance because she again wasn’t finished.
“And what I’ve seen of that man, what you’ve said, he’s a gentleman. He wouldn’t play you. He might have dinner with you and the family he’s got left in an effort to start this friendship you think you two are building. But he’d never, never, Iz, mix his signals like he did last night with you. He might be twisted up still, but he’s not playing games. His heart is telling him something and it seems to me he’s listening.”
“I can’t do this,” I whispered.
“Then don’t,” she replied. “If Johnny gets his head sorted and decides he’s gonna make that play, all I’m saying is, let him do it.”
I decided not to respond.
But my heart was still beating fast, warming up my entire body.
“I love you, doll, but I need to quit thinking about this and get back to work,” I said.
She nodded. “I hear you. But did you hear me?”
I nodded.
She gave me a gentle smile and stood, but she leaned into a hand on my desk and did it holding my eyes with her warm brown ones.
“Just to finish up, I was wrong about something else. You got your hands on a stray, baby girl. Lost and alone, maybe cast aside, definitely done wrong. And you’re Izzy Forrester. No one better at taking the stray out of the stray and giving them home. And also, Scarlett wanted Ashley. He went for Melanie. And Melanie was the finest being in that book. Even Rhett adored Melanie. Scarlett gets all the attention because the woman is the diva to end all divas. But there ain’t nothing wrong with being Melanie. Far from it. She was just as strong as Scarlett but a whole lot quieter about it, which is strength in itself. Johnny isn’t Ashley but I’m thinking he isn’t Rhett either. I’m thinking that Johnny Gamble is realizing that and because of it he’s realizing Scarlett wasn’t the one for him. He’s thinking he’s all about Melanie.”
“You need to stop it,” I told her quietly.
“So I will.” She grinned, pushing away from my desk. “Just to say, I’m also thinking this is going to be fun.” She kept grinning as she shook her head. “Don’t worry, I still got my eyes on you and I’m always here. This is still going to be fun.”
“Not from where I’m sitting,” I muttered.
“Then, Izzy, start paying attention.”
With that, she sashayed out of my office.
I watched until she disappeared.
Then, stupidly, I dropped my eyes to my phone and lifted my hand to it.
Leaving it sitting on my desk, I engaged it.
And I went to Johnny’s text screen.
I scrolled up and started reading.
You too. Johnny from weeks ago.
You home okay? Johnny from last night.
Yes, Johnny, thanks. And thanks for dinner. Me, because Johnny and Dave got in a minor fight but definitely the word “fight” was apropos about who would pay. Although I went so far as to get my wallet out, they didn’t even acknowledge I’d done that, ignoring me so completely I had no choice but to put it back in my purse without having a chance to utter a word.
This fight had unsurprisingly been sorted when Margot waded in, stating, “Split it, boys. That way, David, you’re taking care of me and Johnny’s got Izzy.”
Johnny’s got Izzy.
They agreed immediately.
God, I hated it when Deanna got things straight.
No problem, babe. Going to the festival? Johnny texted.
Yes. My first big thing as a resident of Matlock, I replied. Then, drunk on an evening spent with Johnny and two people he cared about who cared about him, at the same time disconcerted about it and not thinking straight thus being an idiot, I added, Though I’ve been before with Deanna and Charlie.
It’s a blast but go early and get out early. Out of towners come in the afternoon and traffic is a bitch.
Thanks for the advice. Are you home?
Yup.
How? You had farther to drive than me.
I followed you, Iz. You need to take driving lessons from Margot. Dave calls her AJ Foyt. You drive like you’re behind the wheel of a Buick and just celebrated your ninth decade on this earth.
I laughed at his joke, wandering my house, letting the dogs out, checking the cats, covering the birds, getting ready for bed, through it all phone held in hand like a lifeline, texting Johnny Gamble.
Not surprised Margot drives like an Indy car driver, I’d shared.
He’s being nice. It’s more like demolition derby. Her car is in my shop more than any in three counties and not because she’s big on keeping her oil clean.
That made me laugh again.
Right, you got work tomorrow so I’ll let you go. Dogs in? He’d asked.
That made my belly flip-flop and I answered, Getting them now.
Lock up tight after you. Windows too, baby.
Baby.
I’d missed that.
Two breakfasts, two dinners (now three) and the little there was of the rest and I’d missed him.
A lot.
Now I was getting more of him.
A lot more.
And liking it.
Too much.
I will, Johnny, I’d replied. Sleep well.
And he’d ended it the way it had ended before.
But this time it didn’t seem an end at all.
You too.
I stared at the screen of my phone, scrolling up and down idly with my finger, reading and rereading, so lost in it, I let a small smile spread on my face and I nearly jumped out of my chair when
the phone I was staring at rang.
The screen changed from the text string with Johnny to announce Johnny was calling.
Oh God, what did I do?
My mind didn’t know.
But before it rang twice, my hand decided it did and it snatched up the phone, took the call and put it to my ear.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Hey, got a sec?” he asked.
I didn’t. I’d barely gotten any work done that day.
“Sure,” I answered.
“Got a friend who has a horse. He and his family are going on vacation and the person who used to look after him has left town. He’s way out there, about a forty-minute drive away or I’d look after him. I noticed you got a couple of open stables. Wondered if you’d be cool stabling his horse. Not more work for you, Iz. I’ll come and deal with him.”
I sat staring at all the work on my desk I should be doing but wasn’t since I was talking to Johnny, and I did this thinking of Johnny coming out to my house every day to take care of a horse.
This was a good thought.
“So?” he prompted when I said nothing. “Will Serengeti be able to handle company?”
“I . . . well, I’ve got to take care of Serengeti and Amaretto anyway so you don’t have to—”
“While Mist is there, I’ll deal with Serengeti and Amaretto too.”
He’d take care of my horses too.
“Johnny—”
“You’d help him out. He’s in a bind. Everyone he can find is charging a shit ton. He’d pay you, bring his own feed, make sure you’re covered for hay and time. But I’d deal with the rest.”
My mouth made up my mind for me. “I don’t think that would be a problem.”
“Fantastic, spätzchen, I’ll tell him.”
“Spätzchen?”
“What?”
“You called me spätzchen.”
Johnny made no reply.
My heart convulsed.
Whatever that meant, he’d called her that too.
“Okay, whatever. Just let me know when—” I began.
“My granddad called my grandmother that. She was German. He met her over there when he was in the service. Married her there.”