A Time to Build (Love's Time Book 2)

by Dora Hiers

  Disappointment speared her in the chest.

  Caffeine. She definitely needed caffeine.

  Long legs hoisted his lean body from the chair in a single athletic, graceful movement. She tried not to stare, tried to school her expression and keep the admiration from showing but must have failed. Miserably.

  Because when her gaze lifted, he was smiling at her like he could read her jumbled thoughts. Then, just as quickly, his attention shifted to the teen.

  “Maria, it was nice to meet you. Would you mind if I visited tomorrow?” Carson’s tone was sweet, gentle, unassuming.

  “Yeah. That’d be great. Thank you for coming.” Her words slurred toward the end, and her eyelids closed again.

  Carson flicked his head toward the door and cupped her elbow.

  She tugged out of his grasp, waited until the door clicked behind them before speaking through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m volunteering.”

  “You’re what?” No. That wasn’t possible. He hadn’t even been back in Harrison for a week.

  “You heard me.”

  “You can’t just waltz back into town and…and…” She stumbled over the right words, confusion churning with dismay in her belly.

  “Volunteer?” He crossed his arms and nudged a shoulder against the wall.

  How could the man look so good in a hospital gown? She huffed, waiting until a nurse passed by in the hall.

  What had he just said? Volunteer…hospital…rules. That’s right! “Yeah. The hospital has rules—”

  “Yeah. I know. And also quite a few forms. Not sure why they’re all necessary, but—”

  “Exactly. Forms. Approval. It takes time—”

  “I submitted the application over a month ago and received approval even before I headed back to Harrison. Mrs. Peterson gave me the welcome tour today. She’s the one who introduced me to Maria.” Was that victory that just flashed across his face?

  Jillian slumped against the wall, the starch deserting her spine, the conversation leaving her emotionally drained.

  “Come on. Let’s head down to the cafeteria. I can afford to buy you a cup of coffee and a piece of pie.” His arm snaked around her back.

  Wait a minute! Did this volunteering gig mean that he was sticking around Harrison?

  Without warning, her knees buckled. Her legs wobbled.

  “Whoa! I think you need something more substantial than coffee and pie. Come on.” His arm tightened around her waist, the only thing that kept her from tumbling on the tile floor like a couple sticks of limp pasta.

  Caffeine? Did she think she needed caffeine?

  Sure thing, but she needed to get out of here more. Away from the kindness shining from Carson’s face, and the dimple that kept coming out of hiding. To escape the ache that came from the constant desire to reach out and cup his cheek, to rub her palm against the rough whiskers lining his jaw.

  But most of all, she needed to flee from the sweet memories that his soft touch on her back roused. The tender feelings it ignited.

  If she didn’t leave now, she was toast.

  She shook her head, determination steeling her spine. She was so not going back down memory lane.

  “You know, I just remembered an errand I need to run.” It wasn’t an outright lie. She had some books stashed in the car to drop off at the library. Granted, they weren’t due until next Thursday, but he didn’t need to know that. And she could swing by and grab a giant cup of coffee on the way back to the hospital.

  He narrowed those dark eyebrows at her, but, thankfully, his grip loosened.

  “You’re just putting off the inevitable. You know that, right?” His deep voice rumbled close to her ear. A hint of soap replaced the normal hospital smell.

  She closed her eyes and breathed deep. How did he do that? One minute, escape was all she could think about. But then his earthy-sweet, robust woodsy scent descended on her, wrapping her in a cloak of pure sensory overload and all she wanted to do was soak it in. Soak him in.

  But look where that had left her.

  Her eyelids bolted up. She charged down the hallway, putting a safe distance between her heart and the man who drew her tighter than a magnet. She glanced over a shoulder. “I’ll catch you later.”

  Later. Much, much later.

  7

  He didn’t like the looks of this.

  Something was wrong.

  Carson planted gloved fists on his hips and surveyed the crowd of males. All of them were busily munching except one. Jumbo.

  The big lug was perched in the grass, a mournful expression dulling those giant irises.

  Carson scratched his jaw. What should he do? He had no idea what was wrong. He hated to call the vet when it might be something as simple as the llama wasn’t feeling sociable today. Or maybe the cranky one was just resting? How was he supposed to know?

  He didn’t, but Jillian would. If Jumbo was truly sick, she’d advise him on whether it was time to call in the vet. And he’d feel more comfortable with her taking a look at his new buddy anyway.

  He tugged out his phone and connected to her number.

  “Hello.” She sounded out of breath.

  “I think something’s wrong with Jumbo.”

  Silence. Only the sound of her breathing.

  She’d been so anxious to ditch him at the hospital. Had he made a mistake in calling her?

  He slapped his head. Of course. Friday evening. Likely he’d interrupted her plans. Or maybe she was already with the vet? Disappointment poked him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  He pulled the phone away from his ear to glance at it. She’d disconnected.

  Not even five minutes later, hooves pounded the ground outside the barn, the powerful gait breaking the silence inside the cavernous building. She must have been out riding when he called.

  He tugged off his gloves and stuffed them in his back pocket, moseyed to the entrance.

  “Whoa!” In one smooth, graceful motion, Jillian hopped from the saddle, her boots landing on the ground before the horse had even stopped. She looped the reins around the fence post. Lightning immediately lowered his head to chomp at the grass.

  She was stunning, standing there, framed by the waning sunlight, and he drank in the vision. Figure hugging jeans, soft and worn, and snug over well-defined hips.

  Chiding himself, he jerked his attention north.

  She’d scooped her long blonde hair up in some sort of clasp at the back of her neck, but loose wisps feathered around creamy cheeks that held just a bit of color from her ride—

  “Let’s go check him out.” Long legs took her quickly to the fence.

  But he moved faster. He reached around her to open the gate and brandished his arm through the air, gesturing for her to go through first.

  She did, and as tempted as he was to watch her, he turned and latched the gate.

  “What’s the matter, big fella?”

  Carson turned back around in time to see Jillian’s fingers glide along the fiber of Jumbo’s neck, her sweet crooning making the animal’s ears flicker. Other than twitching his ears and rolling his expressive irises, Jumbo didn’t move from his contorted position on the grass. A loud growl came from the giant’s belly.

  From her crouched position next to the llama’s front end, Jillian’s concerned gaze shot to Carson as he approached, taking slow and cautious steps. “Has he been acting like this for very long?”

  Stooping to get close, he caught a whiff of her musky scent, making his chest tight with longing. He took a deep breath, and let it out, knowing it would tickle her ear. But she was wreaking havoc on his pulse. Fair was fair. “Do you think he’ll understand that we’re talking about him? Should I whisper, too?”

  She swatted him on the arm. He chuckled, backing up for good measure. Just in case she decided to chunk that huge box containing Remi’s medical equipment at him. Or Jumbo got aggravated
. Whichever came first.

  “Maybe we should just call Corbin.” Her raised eyebrows challenged.

  “Aww, come on. I promise I’ll behave.” The last thing he wanted to do was call in the vet, especially if she could help him. Three was definitely a crowd. His gaze jerked to the llama. Make that four. He shook his head. “This morning he was his normal, ornery self. I noticed him like this when I got home from job hunting this afternoon.”

  Jillian whipped her head around in his direction, her sandy colored eyebrows disappearing into her bangs, those beautiful smoky eyes shifting from brown to green. “Job hunting?”

  “A job might be kinda nice to have.” He smiled at the squeak in her voice and the long-lost drawl in his. Hadn’t taken long for it to show back up.

  Finding a job? Now that was a different story. It was taking longer than he’d expected and he needed to find one soon, especially if he wanted to invite a certain beautiful woman out to dinner occasionally. Or if he ever hoped to get his own place.

  He still wasn’t sure what he’d do when Remi and Mason returned from their honeymoon. A steady income would help him know how much he could afford for rent. He didn’t want to overextend himself. Maybe Cam would let him crash in his extra bedroom until he could find a place of his own.

  “A job here?” It was impossible not to mistake the disbelief in her tone.

  “A man needs to work, Jillian.” Did she not want him to stick around?

  “I didn’t know you planned on staying.”

  “Why would I sign up with the hospital to volunteer if I didn’t plan on staying?” At least for a few months. “I don’t see any reason why not.” He lifted a shoulder. Harrison was as good as any place in the world. Better, in fact.

  Before he’d left Seattle, he’d considered staying in Harrison. It was time. Past time. Not only was he ready to reconnect with his family, but Lilly’s death had ignited a passion in his heart. A desire to make a difference in the lives of burn survivors, to find a way to boost their self-esteem, to show them that there was still beauty under the scars, that their life still held meaning and significance.

  Or did it all have to do with Jillian?

  Because now he understood, from the deepest, darkest, loneliest corner in his heart, that he wanted to repair his relationship with her. That would take lots of time.

  And a job.

  The large animal struggled to stand, drawing Jillian’s attention away from him and back to the llama. Jumbo lumbered around for a couple minutes then dropped back to the ground.

  “I think we should call Corbin.”

  Okay. Maybe he could think of one reason. The vet.

  How serious was their relationship? With the vet in the picture, did Carson have even a sliver of hope to repair the damage?

  Jillian rose and whipped a phone out of her pocket. She swiped at the screen and held the phone to her ear, relaying Jumbo’s symptoms to a receptionist then disconnected. “Corbin’s on another call. It’ll probably be a couple of hours before he can make it out here.”

  A breeze swept in and rustled some stray locks across her face. She blew out a breath, but the stubborn hair fell right back.

  He looped the loose strands behind her ear, his fingers grazing the silky smoothness of her jaw, jumpstarting the too-long idle muscles of his heart.

  “A couple hours, huh?” His voice came out husky with emotion, but standing so close to her, drinking in those smoky eyes, watching them transform from forest green to coffee brown was cranking up some mighty inner turmoil.

  “Yeah.” The word came out on a whisper, and her bottom lip disappeared beneath her teeth.

  “Want to come inside for a glass of iced tea?”

  “Sweet?” Her gaze never strayed from his face.

  He liked her undivided attention. No wonder the vet hovered like an annoying fly, constantly buzzing around her. That thought curved his lips. The vet might not appreciate being compared to a household pest. “Is there any other kind?”

  “Wow! Didn’t take long for that North Carolina drawl to show back up.” When she laughed, llama heads jerked and angled their way with interest, ears perked straight up. One llama lumbered toward them, and the rest followed.

  “Sure. Tea sounds good.” Jillian crouched again and leaned over to stroke Jumbo’s back. “Help is on its way, big guy. Hang in there.”

  He extended a hand to help her up, but she didn’t really need it. In dancer-like fashion, she rose and swiped her palms against her denims.

  “How about a hamburger? And I might even be sweet-talked to throw in some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.” Truthfully, he wanted her to himself for those two hours. Because when the vet arrived, Corbin would be standing guard like a hawk.

  “Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. My favorite.”

  He smiled and nodded, knowing the cookies had been the clencher.

  “Deal. I’m famished after my ride.”

  Savoring a juicy burger and sipping some sweet iced tea while relaxing on the back deck listening to the llamas’ contented sounds while the breeze ruffled Jillian’s hair…he had to admit the idea appealed to him.

  Could the night get any better? Was this what life would have been like if he’d stayed in Harrison?

  ****

  Was this what life would have been like if he’d stayed in Harrison?

  Jillian tipped the glass to her lips, the sweet liquid cooling her throat. She set the tumbler on the table, the condensation leaving moisture on her hand. She swiped her palm against her jeans.

  Smoke curled up from the grill where Carson hovered, brandishing a spatula and wearing a silly “Kiss the Cook” apron.

  Her breath caught every time she caught a glance at the words, her heart rebelling against the silent scolding to stand back, to step away from the reminder of what used to be, to guard herself against wishing for what would never be.

  “Still like your hamburgers medium well?” He angled his head over a shoulder.

  How could he possibly remember that? Or the fact that she loved oatmeal chocolate chip cookies? “Yeah.”

  He scooped the hamburgers onto a serving platter and carried it to the table. “Ready to eat?”

  “Oh yeah.” When had her vocabulary become so limited?

  “Mind if I pray? I’m kinda new at this, so bear with me.” He didn’t wait for her response. Just cradled her hand in his while he uttered a sweet, short blessing on the food.

  When he finished, she pressed back against the deck chair, stunned. First, he’d attended church without being coerced. Now he was a praying man?

  Her heart was in big trouble.

  “Let’s eat. A cold hamburger doesn’t taste near as good. Trust me.” He slid a burger onto her plate, his lips curved in that delicious way of his, angled up on one side, the words on the apron taunting her. Again.

  She scooted closer to the table and slathered some ketchup on the bun. How would her heart ever survive if he lived in Harrison, even temporarily?

  Lord, I’m not sure what to pray for. That he not find a job? That he leave and go back where he came from so my heart could stay in one piece?

  She bit into the burger, the spices melding with the sharp cheddar and coming alive in her mouth. “This is really good.”

  “Thanks. Glad you like it.”

  He may not know much about llamas yet, but the man sure could cook. And remodel. “I love what you’ve done with the inside of Remi’s house.”

  “I’ve picked up a little construction experience along the way.”

  “A little?” Her gaze swung to his powerful shoulders, straining against the cotton fabric of a faded red shirt. She tried not to stare, but he looked so much older, so much more mature, than when he’d left. Those awkward lean boy spaces had expanded and firmed until a man, a man who wielded so much more power over her heart, emerged.

  “I like working with my hands.” He shrugged, tendons flexing under his shirt as he bit into the burger.

  “It
shows. Remi’s been wanting to make a few changes to this place since she got it.”

  “She’s done a lot already. I’m proud of her.”

  “Yeah. Camdon and Ryan helped when they could, but she did plenty herself.”

  “I’m sure she roped you into pounding the hammer once or twice.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” She nibbled on her lip, biting back words best left unsaid…for now.

  Like friends stuck through tough times. They didn’t up and leave without a goodbye. Not even a phone call or text.

  Her appetite faded, and she dropped what was left of the burger on the plate, settling back in the seat to gaze off into the distance, allowing herself a reprieve from staring at the words blazing across his chest.

  A deep sigh brought her back. His fingertips grazed her forearm, his touch light and gentle as he caressed her puckered skin. “You’re beautiful. You know that, right?”

  “Beautiful?” She scoffed, his touch stoking the fire that had never quite burned out. Why was he doing this?

  “Yes, Jillian. A few scars can’t extinguish that radiant glow that positively shines from the inner you. Stunning, in fact.”

  She bit her lip, picked up the fork just to force him to remove his hand from her arm. She pushed the green beans around on the plate.

  “I missed you.”

  Her gaze jerked to his face. Was he serious? Yep. Not even a smile.

  He was pulling out the “I missed you” card on her? Who did he think she was? The same naïve eighteen-year-old girl he left behind?

  Pathetic.

  “I missed your laughter, your sweet spirit, your friendship.”

  Anger swirled below the surface, threatening to spill over. “You have a funny way of showing it. I must not have left too great of an impression on you since you stayed away so long.”

  The pendulum swing of his head was almost imperceptible. His lashes shuttered over dark and unreadable eyes. “I just needed a little more time than the average guy to figure out was important in my life.” He lifted his head and caught her staring.

  Leaning close, his knuckles grazed her cheek. Brown flecks glittered in his eyes. His words came out like a reverent whisper, “Why can’t fire victims see that they’re still the same person on the inside? The flames that ravaged your body didn’t change who you are or diminish the beauty that shines from the inside out.”