by Dora Hiers
He tugged out his phone and glanced at the caller ID on the screen. Silver Properties.
His heart rate alternated between accelerating and freefalling. He turned back to Jillian’s inquisitive face, the kitten snuggling against her chest, purring loudly. “Excuse me, please. I need to take this call.”
“Of course.” Smiling, she nodded and dipped her head toward the cat.
In three steps, he was out the door, closing it quietly yet firmly behind him. He cleared his throat then swiped to connect. “Carson Lambright.”
“Mr. Lambright. Justine Silver with Silver Properties.”
“Yes ma’am.” He tried to temper the emotions racing through his veins.
“I’m calling about that job we talked about earlier…”
****
With tiny claws firmly attached to her chest, Jillian slogged over to the wall where Carson had stashed the bag. Readjusting Purrtygirl so she rested in her palm, she peeked inside the bag.
Cat food and litter, cute dishes for food and water, and play toys. He’d thought of everything.
Jillian glanced down at the little bundle, now sleeping, but still purring loud enough to alert the llamas.
Was all of this to keep her occupied when Carson moved to Raleigh? From the sounds of it, he didn’t put too much stock in Corbin’s bid.
Sadness swelled in her belly. Loneliness squeezed her heart like a vice.
Would Carson ever be content to stay in one place? Sure, he might hope to stay, but would the wanderer truly ever be satisfied to stick around the tiny town of Harrison for the rest of his life?
“What will we do if he leaves again, Purrtygirl?” She pressed the kitten against her cheek and inhaled Carson’s scent lingering on the soft fur.
She stepped over to the window, pulled the fabric away, and glanced outside.
Carson was standing on the far end of the porch, the phone plastered to his ear, his face angled toward the floor, his deep voice muffled by the wall dividing them. He turned to stride in the other direction. She couldn’t see his expression to know whether he was excited or not, but he’d taken the call outside, so that meant he wanted, no, expected some privacy.
She turned away, shame swamping her for violating his wish.
She needed a distraction. She set the sleeping kitten on a rug in the kitchen then pulled out the contents of the bag. She could at least keep busy while Carson was on the phone.
She filled the litter box and walked around the house, debating on where to put it. The hall bathroom seemed to work. She left it there then headed back into the kitchen to fill Purrtygirl’s food and water bowls.
A knock sounded right before a dark head peered around the corner of the door. “It’s me again.”
“Come on in.” She twisted on the tap water to fill the dish.
A thick hand reached around her and turned off the faucet. Carson took the dish and set it on the counter, his hands entwining her wrists, tugging her around to face him. “Jillian…”
She stared at his chest, a huge lump of emotion sticking in her throat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t bear to look at his face, afraid of what she’d see. Afraid to learn that he’d be moving somewhere far away. Again.
He nudged her chin up.
Teardrops cung to her lashes, making his face a blur. She gave an angry swipe at her cheeks with the back of her hand, forcing down that lump that had lodged in her throat.
She was a firefighter. She dealt with life altering decisions every day at work. She could handle this. Whatever it was. Whatever decision Carson made. Couldn’t she?
“Jillian, honey, it’s okay.” His gentle words seeped into her wounded soul.
“Is it?” She lifted her chin, pulling away from his feather-light touch, from the longing it ignited in her.
Warm eyes regarded her, kindling a fire in her belly. His lips twitched on one end, showing off his dimple. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”
“I’m not sure your definition of ‘okay’ and mine are the same.” Why couldn’t she control that quiver in her voice?
“I’m staying.”
“Here?” Temporarily? Permanently? What did he mean?
He nodded. “In Harrison.”
“You are? In Harrison?” She covered her heart with a palm, hoping to quiet the frantic churning that threatened to send her back to the hospital, to still the voice of doubt in her head that kept screaming it wasn’t possible.
He gripped her arms and gave her a gentle tug against his chest. His heart thumped against her cheek, matching the speed of hers.
“I just got a job offer from Silver Properties.” His voice rumbled from where his chin rested against her head. There was no mistaking the pleasure in his tone.
She pulled back to look up at him, but his arms still curled around her waist, keeping her connected to him. “That’s fabulous news, Carson! I’m so happy for you.” She was happy. Thrilled, ecstatic even, but also slightly wary. Was this company based out of Raleigh, too? “Tell me about it.”
“Have you heard of them?”
Silver Properties. She mulled the name over a couple times but came up empty. She shook her head.
“They’re a boutique real estate firm based in Charlotte.”
“Charlotte! That’s awesome!” She squealed and gave his weight a tight squeeze before pulling back again to look up at him. “That explains why I haven’t heard of them.” Like Remi, she rarely made it into the big city, preferring to spend all her time in the quiet bedroom community of Harrison rather than fight traffic and people congestion.
“They specialize in taking on deadbeat listings, remodeling and staging them to sell.”
“What will you be doing for them?”
“I’ll be in charge of the remodel and staging phase.” His face literally glowed with excitement.
“Really? Wow! That’s amazing! Congratulations! After seeing what you did for Remi and Mason’s kitchen that sounds right up your alley.”
He nodded. “It’s my dream job.”
A dream job. Maybe. But was Harrison the ideal location? A place that he’d be willing to settle down for the long haul?
Would the job of a lifetime be enough to keep him here that long?
20
“Your paperwork is all in order. Looks like we’re good to go.” Ms. Peterson closed the file and rose, stretching out a delicately manicured hand, so smooth and satiny compared to Jillian’s roughened one.
A twinge of unworthiness pricked at her, but Jillian tamped it down. Ms. Peterson worked with papers all day. Jillian worked with a fire hose. It was the price she paid for the career she’d chosen, and her hand had nothing to do with her burn injury. And even if it did, that feeling wasn’t from God. She knew that now. God had been using Carson to speak to her about inner beauty.
Amazing. The man who’d shamed her was the very person God had sent to—
“Is everything all right?” Ms. Peterson placed her other hand on their already entwined hands and peered at Jillian through narrow slits.
“Yes. Definitely.” She nodded firmly, releasing the petite woman’s hand. “I appreciate the opportunity to partner with you.”
“Believe me when I say we’re thrilled with what you and Mr. Lambright plan to do, Jillian. It’s a wonderful concept, and as a burn survivor, you’re the perfect person to spearhead the project. We’ll do our best to help you succeed.” Ms. Peterson’s voice exuded confidence.
If only she felt the same. She hadn’t stopped shaking since she stepped into the elevator for the meeting.
“Thank you.” Jillian exited the sterile office and headed down the narrow corridor toward the rooms, her low-heeled sandals clicking against the tile floor.
Was she the right person to lead these impressionable, wounded young souls?
Please, Lord, help me not to mess this up. These girls are precious in Your sight. Help me to be a lighthouse for Your love.
She nodded at the nurse behind the desk and ke
pt walking. She’d start by visiting with—
“Jillian!” Excitement rang out from a female voice behind her.
Jillian stopped and turned around, flinging names through her brain until one of them clicked. “Hey, Cassie.” She stepped over to the girl she’d met once during a visit with Carson. “How are you?”
“Getting better.”
“One day at a time, right?”
“Yeah.”
She remembered that Cassie’s burns covered her legs. Jillian sent an appreciative glance downward and then back up to the girl’s face, reassuring her young friend that people could see past the scars to the capable person she was underneath. “You’re moving around really well.”
The teenager nodded. “Doc tells me not to get my hopes up, but I might be able to go home in a couple days.”
“That’s wonderful.”
That same expression darkened Cassie’s face as Maria’s the day she learned she was going home. A terrified combination of dread and longing, of worry and fear. But mostly dread.
Jillian rested a hand on the girl’s forearm, her touch light. “It’ll be okay, Cassie. You’ll see.”
“I know. Eventually.”
Jillian nodded. “There will be some adjustments in the beginning, but you’ll get there.”
“Well, wouldn’t you know it? The two beautiful ladies I most wanted to see this morning.” The deep, masculine voice jolted Jillian, startling her.
“Carson.” A dreamy eyed expression took over the teen’s face.
It took great effort on Jillian’s part not to roll her eyes. But if she was honest with herself, her heart blipped more than just a tiny bit on hearing his voice.
And he did look divine in jeans that clung to his narrow hips and a cotton shirt that stretched taut against his chest. Not to mention the dimple that flashed so sweetly from lips curved on one end.
He winked at her before turning his attention to Cassie. “What’s on your agenda today, young lady? Heading home?”
“Not yet. Doc says maybe in a couple days.”
“Oh wow! That’s great news. Hey, if you had the chance to hook up with a group of other girls who’ve been burned, would you be interested?”
One sandy eyebrow hiked, and Cassie snorted. “Uh, yeah.”
“So you’d be willing to discuss your injury? How it happened? Take part in the discussions, share your feelings and ask questions?” Carson pressed on, a challenge in his voice and on his face.
Cassie considered his questions for a few seconds, her eyes taking on a glassy sheen. She swallowed and nodded. “That sounds like a lot, but yeah. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk about it.”
“I think so, too.” Carson smiled, sending another wink in Jillian’s direction, causing her heart to stutter. “And do you think it would be helpful to have a facilitator who was burned several years ago? Someone who might share her experiences. Would that help you?”
“Sweet!”
Jillian cleared her throat, figuring it was about time for her to take part in this discussion, especially since she was the facilitator. “We just signed the paperwork with the hospital making the group official.”
****
‘We.’ Carson liked that word. Not that he wanted credit for the idea, but because she was including him in something that meant a lot to her.
And that meant a lot to him.
“Cool! When do we start?” Cassie’s gaze pinged between the two of them, excitement softening the brittle edges he’d seen on her face during his last few visits.
“We’ll meet the first Thursday night of every month.” Jillian’s gaze flickered back to him. “But I’ll need you to facilitate the meetings on my duty nights if I can’t get off for a few hours.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I should be able to swing that.” He planned to attend as many of the meetings as his work schedule allowed. He turned to Cassie. “Are you on social media?”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes, her tone laced with teen sarcasm.
“Look up Beauty in the Scars. We’ll post the meeting dates online.”
“We will?” Jillian speared him with the question, furrows wrinkling her forehead.
“My contribution.” He smiled and cupped Jillian’s elbow. “Cassie, I’ll be back to visit before you head home.”
Jillian didn’t object when he led her down the narrow hall. Cassie could keep a body talking all day, and he longed for a few private moments with his woman. Especially since, standing next to her, her fresh, alluring blend of violet and musk kept drifting into his space, taunting him with questions.
Like now that he had a secure job, what was he going to do about her? About them?
“See you, Cassie.” Jillian waved over a shoulder.
“You’re on social media now?” Jillian’s heels clicked the tile. “Since when?”
A nurse passed them pushing a man in a wheelchair.
He nodded at the pair. “Since my brother helped me set up my accounts. He thought that might help with a job search.” Or was it really because Cam didn’t trust him not to take off again and that was his way of staying in touch?
The jury was still out on that one, but Carson allowed him to do it. After a brief tutorial by his twin, he’d played around until he figured out how the whole social media concept worked.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now what, what?” He angled around her to mash the elevator button.
“Now that you have a job.”
He shrugged. “I can post updates for Beauty in the Scars at night.”
“When do you start?”
Was that hope in her expression? Joy? Expectations? He couldn’t tell, but he had to admit, it frightened him a bit.
What if he couldn’t deliver? What if Ms. Silver didn’t like his work? What if he really couldn’t stay in one place for the rest of his life? What then? What if he was just like his father and couldn’t handle the stresses of everyday living?
The elevator dinged.
He blinked. Scratching the whiskers lining his cheeks, he pushed back the fear, refusing to allow it to rule his life anymore.
What had she asked? Oh, the job.
“Next week.” When the doors whooshed open, he held his arm between them to allow her to pass. After she stepped inside, he followed, relieved to find the space empty aside from the two of them.
“Are you excited?” She pushed the lobby button and turned to him, her sandy colored eyebrows arched, her mouth curved in a wide smile.
“Excited?” No. More like nervous, but he wasn’t admitting that to Jillian just yet. He’d worked quite a few construction jobs, but he’d never done design work on a job, only as a hobby for friends. And he’d never been in a position of authority. This position was definitely outside his realm of experience, but something he’d always dreamed of doing. Would he be the right fit for Silver Properties?
Time. He needed time. “Cautiously optimistic might be a better way to describe what I’m feeling.”
She angled her head and tucked her long bangs behind an ear, the smile still tugging at her lips. Lips he had this sudden craving to kiss.
He edged closer, appreciating the confines of the closed space.
“You’ll do fine, Carson.” Softly spoken words from an angel whose lashes fluttered against creamy cheeks before her blonde head dipped to her chest, hiding her feelings.
As if.
His arms snaked around her waist and tugged her closer. He nudged her head up so he could gaze into those stunning, wide eyes.
Her subtle prettiness, and the fact that she wasn’t even aware of it, captivated him. He framed her soft face between his rough palms. “You’re so beautiful, Jillian.”
Her eyes widened even farther, transforming from hazel to emerald green in seconds. She sucked in a breath, her lips parting slightly.
He didn’t need any more invitation than that.
Her short breaths tickled his lips, anticipation of her
sweet kiss kindling a spark in his belly that promptly ignited, fanning into a raging flame that coursed through his veins.
“Jillian. How can you not know how crazy you make me?” His lips pressed against hers, lightly at first. But when she responded with enthusiasm, sliding her arms around his neck and tugging his head closer, her mouth opening under his, he moaned and deepened the kiss. His fingers glided through silky slivers of hair. Her subtle fragrance filled his lungs. Joy exploded inside him until all he felt was love.
The weight of thirteen years of wandering bore down on him. How could he have missed out on all those years with her?
“Uh hum.” Someone clearing a throat soaked into his consciousness.
Where were they?
In a daze, he opened his eyes, took in their surroundings.
Right. Elevator. Hospital.
He dropped his arms from around Jillian, twining their fingers together as he guided her out of the elevator, past the guy with a smirk waiting to get in. When they breezed through the glass exit doors, he soaked in the bright sunshine, warm on his face.
That kiss, Jillian’s response, sparked longing. But more than that, it birthed hope.
21
“I needed it done yesterday.” Trying to control his irritation, Carson stuck his thumb inside his leather tool belt and surveyed the unfinished kitchen, the phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder.
“I know. I’m sorry, but half our staff came down with some type of stomach bug. Henry will be out today for sure.”
Pressure built in his chest. He was on a tight deadline, and the customer service representative for the county inspections office had said the same thing for three days straight, promising that an inspector would be out today. Hadn’t happened yet, and even though her voice sounded more confident today, she didn’t exactly inspire hope that it would happen soon.
“I’m sorry to hear about that, but I sure would appreciate if you could make it happen today. Thank you.” He disconnected and slid the phone back in his pocket then swiped a sleeve across the sweat beading on his forehead.
