Taken by Tuesday
Page 16

“Why don’t you pay for one of those fancy gyms?”
“Because unlike my brother, I’m broke.”
“Didn’t you say you worked?”
Judy slid the chopped onions into the big bowl of beef and cracked a few eggs into the mix. “It’s an internship. I’m not paid and I’m overworked.”
Dina squished her face in an expression of complete horror. “Why would anyone work for free?”
“I’ve been asking myself that question for two weeks.” She cringed when her fingers met the cold meat and she started the process of mixing the ingredients. “Damn that’s cold.”
“Yeah, but it’s the only way to mix it right.” Dina peeled and kept the conversation going. “You really work for free?”
“It’s a six-month internship. It’s a way of gaining experience so someone will hire me.”
“I thought college meant someone will hire you.”
“Not necessarily. I guess with some professions it works that way, but not for me.”
“Zach said you want to design buildings.”
“I do. The only thing I’ve been doing, however, is filing and playing the mail lady. I shouldn’t complain. It’s actually not that bad . . . but I can’t help but think I’m spinning in circles.”
“It can’t be any worse than high school. Like I’ll ever use algebra.”
Judy was about to correct her when a deep voice from behind them offered his opinion. “Amen to that. I never used algebra.”
Rick. Her skin tingled.
Without turning around, Judy said, “I use it all the time.”
“That’s because you have a geeky desk job, babe.”
Dina actually laughed. “A geeky desk job that doesn’t pay.”
“Even better. Hey, Dina.”
Judy heard the giddiness in the teen’s voice. “Hi, Rick.”
Rick stepped up behind her, looked over her shoulder. “Aww, babe, you didn’t need to cook me dinner.”
“I’m not . . . and I’m not your babe.” Judy turned the bowl over onto the counter and shaped the loaf.
“Seems like a lot of food for two tiny women.”
“I’m sure there’s plenty for you to join us,” Dina told him.
“Perfect. I haven’t had meatloaf in years.”
Judy turned, found it difficult not to take in the man standing a breath away from her. “I’m sure you have something better to do.”
Rick shook his head. “Nope. My work is here tonight. Should get done right about the time that comes out of the oven.”
She glared but found a smile somewhere deep inside. “So you hustle pool and dinners.”
“I do what I have to, Utah.”
Damn he was too good-looking for her sanity. She found herself staring at his lips, and when he lifted an eyebrow, she snapped out of her trance, placed her sticky hand on his arm to push him away, and moved around him to the sink. “Whatever.”
Rick moved beside her, took the washcloth from her hands, and brushed it against his arm before handing it back. “I’ll start upstairs. If you hear the alarm going off, just ignore it.”
“Fine.”
He chuckled as he left the room.
Once he was out of earshot, Dina said, “That man is hot.”
Judy fanned her warm cheeks and kept her comments to herself.
How an alarm could go off fourteen times in an hour was beyond her. Judy’s nerves were fried by the time the buzzer on the stove told her dinner was ready. Then, as if Rick were standing in the hall waiting for the call, he showed up with clean hands and the easy smile that always graced his face, and sat beside her for dinner.
Dina actually carried much of the conversation. The teenager yakked about school, her lack of desire to study math, her crappy teachers.
Judy tried to concentrate on what Dina said and ignore the presence of all things Rick. Didn’t matter that Rick’s green eyes drank her in like water on the floor of the desert every time he looked her way. Didn’t matter that every time his eyes collided with hers, her heart flipped in her chest. Didn’t matter that the chemical sparks flying off them could ignite soggy maple leaves during a rainstorm. Didn’t matter.
Rick was a distraction. And Judy wanted a career, a life where she met different people, experienced lots of life. Rick was dangerous, which she admitted, if only to herself, was a complete turn-on. His devastating smile and his fascination with her could break her. She had learned early on she couldn’t be a player in a dress. Flirting was one thing, but the whole intimacy without emotion thing was difficult. She blamed the small town she’d grown up in for her inability to play and move on. It would be easy to give in to the temptation known as Rick if she could do so without latching on and not letting go.
“You know, babe, this is really good.” Rick shoveled in a second helping of meatloaf.
“Dina helped.”
Dina sat taller, liking the praise.
“And enough with the babe.”
He pointed his fork in her direction. “One way to get rid of that.”
Judy shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Well,” Dina pushed away from the table and grabbed her plate, “I have a stupid book report to finish tonight. You’re going to be here in the morning, right?”
“I’m not out of here until Karen and Zach are back. They looked like they’d sleep in,” Judy reminded her.
“Great, because solving for X isn’t working.”
Judy told her she’d help with the algebra; give her a different perspective than Karen was offering.
Dina headed toward the kitchen with her plate, and soon the sound of water running in the sink filled the silence in the dining room.
“I can do that,” Judy told her.
“Rules of the house are everyone helps.”
Judy almost told her to skip the rules for the night, then Rick placed his hand on her arm. “Routine and order are signs of stability. Something she needs,” he whispered.
Judy glanced into the kitchen, noticed a grin on Dina’s face. When she turned back to Rick, he was staring at her. “Then you can clear the rest of the table.”
“I’m a guest.”
“I don’t think so, babe,” she threw his endearment back at him. “Inviting yourself isn’t the same as being invited.”
They put a plate aside for Devon and cleaned up the kitchen within twenty minutes. Dina excused herself, leaving the two of them alone.