by Ciara Knight
His expression lit up. “Thanks. I’ve been showering in truck stops. It’ll be nice to at least camp shower in here.”
“No need. There’s a shower in the house.”
He turned onto the pad at the other side of the house and stopped a little too abruptly, sending her against the seat belt. “I need to make sure you understand that I’ll pay rent for this spot once I’ve earned my way here—or you can deduct it from my pay—but I won’t use anything inside. I’m fine with what I have, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to use your shower each day. I’m a tenant.”
Felicia didn’t like the way he put up a retaining wall each time she tried to give him a little help. If she was being honest with herself, it felt like a personal rejection. Perhaps he wanted to make it clear he didn’t like her as more than a friend. “Water and utilities are included with the rent, as is the use of the facilities if you so choose to use them.” She hopped out and headed for the door, eager to check on her grandmother.
Declan cut her off at the back of the camper. “Wait. I’m sorry. I can tell that I’ve hurt your feelings, and that isn’t what I intended. Listen, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. The only person who’s treated me like a human being since I was released, but I can’t take advantage of your kindness. This isn’t personal. I need to maintain a positive environment where I can concentrate on my future with as few complications as possible. I’m under probation, which means no alcohol, no theft, not anything. If I were to have access to your home and there’s beer, I could get in trouble. If something went missing and I have access inside, then I’ll be blamed, and that could mean returning to jail. I will not allow myself to return to that place.”
His voice cracked, and she knew he’d suffered greatly. “I’m sorry. I never thought of it that way. That was selfish of me. I only wanted some company for my grandmother and to keep you here to help with the work. I’m afraid I resorted to manipulation with material things to entice you not to flee in the night, leaving me here with more work than I can handle.”
He tilted her chin up to look at him. The man was tall and wide as a beast but with the touch of a lightning bug in the night. “You could never be selfish.” His breath sounded short and quick. “It’s more than just the alcohol and the theft. It’s you.”
He stepped away and cleared his throat before she could gather her wits and ask what he meant. “I’m going to clean up, and then I’ll go knock on the front door in about twenty minutes. I’d be honored to sit with your grandmother while you get some rest.”
“Wait, what did you mean?” she blurted, as if her lips finally caught up to her imagination. Her heart beat faster than hummingbird wings flapping.
“You’re an extremely attractive woman. A kind, gentle, giving, talented woman who deserves better than an ex-con. I won’t allow myself to complicate your life more than it already is.” He ran a hand through his thick hair that fell above his eyebrows. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll help out any way I can, including with your grandmother, as long as we maintain a friendly business relationship in which we’re never alone inside the house.”
“But—”
“You want me to stay? That’s the condition.”
“Can I ask why?” Felicia studied the moon rising into the sky. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”
“No, not in any way. You’re perfect.” He laced his fingers behind his head and turned to face the open field. “I don’t trust myself. Please, just agree.”
The desperation in his voice, as if he waged an internal war between good and evil, made her realize if she wanted the help and to keep Declan around until she could show him he was worth more than just self-loathing and hiding from the world, she’d have to agree.
“Fine. I’ll see you in twenty. In the morning, I start at sunrise.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. “See you in twenty.”
Felicia headed to the edge of the house before he shouted after her.
“Wait.”
She paused, expecting him to soften and say he was sorry for making her feel so dejected.
“One more thing.” Declan faced her. Even in the dimming light, she could see his set jaw. “You have to lock your doors at night. There needs to be no doubt that I can’t enter your house at any point unsupervised.”
The way his voice dipped to a warning tone sent a shiver through her. For the first time since they’d met, she doubted that this man was the saint she thought he was, an angel sent to help and to give her comfort. Maybe he was still an angel but a dark one.
Six
Declan hooked up the water to the house and took a camp shower from his wet room. One appendage at a time since his shoulders didn’t fit inside the tiny space. He longed to go inside Felicia’s home and explain why he’d said those things to her about keeping the doors locked and him out of her life. There was an awkwardness between them now that he didn’t like. The way she bolted inside with a dark, downturned gaze after their conversation made him want to explain why he made such demands. But she’d only argue with him, and his words were necessary to put a wedge between them. If he didn’t, his growing attraction for her would become too great for him to deny, and she deserved better than him. She deserved the world.
He put on a clean shirt and brushed his unruly hair, took a deep breath, and headed to the front door. For a moment, he wished he had flowers in his hand to show her how much she meant to him for helping him out, but that wouldn’t be appropriate. Besides, the woman could grow her own. If he were to bring a gift as if they were on a date, he’d come up with something far better.
The front door creaked open, and Felicia stepped aside, allowing plenty of space for him to enter. She’d never been so distant before. Inside he found the place clean and tidy with an older décor that probably housed Felicia’s grandmother’s belongings more than her own. Something told him that Felicia never required much to be happy. She had a servant’s heart. One that he desired for himself but knew he’d never achieve in his lifetime.
Felicia’s grandmother sat asleep in a reclining chair facing an old television with reruns of a black and white show playing. Felicia paused at her side and looked down as if debating about waking her. “She’ll probably sleep while I cook. I’ll wake her for dinner.”
“Let me help.” He headed for the kitchen. Once, in a past life, he’d enjoyed cooking and baking. He’d started preparing all the meals the first time his mother had forgotten to turn off the stove, and over time he’d found it a stress reliever in his life. Creating something instead of having something torn apart like his life had been.
Felicia straggled in behind him. “You don’t have to. You’re my guest.”
“Nope. I’m your tenant who can’t pay. I’d like to make dinner for you and your grandmother as a thank-you.”
“You’ve already thanked me enough by working all day.”
“That paid for my room for the night. Now I’m paying you for the water and food I’m consuming.”
Felicia huffed. “Fine, but why can’t you just accept a friendly gesture and stop turning everything into a business arrangement?” She opened the refrigerator and tossed some chicken onto the counter. “I know what you were doing outside, and you need to stop.”
He opened a cupboard and snagged a few ingredients he thought could dress up the chicken and found some arborio rice and vegetable stock to make risotto as the side. She also retrieved broccoli and set it on the counter next to the chicken. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Before he realized what was happening, she slid herself between him and the counter, leaving only inches between them. He dropped the rice and vegetable stock to the floor. The can rolled across the tile, only stopping when it hit the carpet threshold to the living room. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe for several seconds.
“You listen to me. I know you want to make sure you protect yourself from any issues that could harm your parole, and I completely un
derstand that, but the deranged way you said it was intended to scare me. Well, it didn’t work. I’m not and never will be scared of you, Declan Mills, so get over yourself and stop pushing me away. I won’t hurt you. I’ve been thinking, and I’m guessing you didn’t even commit the crime you served time for. I can’t reconcile the man in front of me with a criminal. Perhaps you went to jail because of some plea deal, or covering for someone else, or you were reformed. I don’t know which, and I don’t care. You’re a good and caring man. I’m sorry you’re so scared of me that you push me away, but I’m a good person too. You don’t have to worry about me causing you further harm. I could never hurt you.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t trust you.” He couldn’t resist touching her tight cheek at the sight of her wounded gaze. She relaxed into his hand but remained with straight posture and eyes wide, as if to drive her point home that she wouldn’t back down. He’d never met a stronger person, not even while incarcerated.
For several moments they only stood, staring at each other as if having a discussion without words.
“I hate to point out the obvious, but you have nowhere else to go, and I think you could be happy here. I’m not putting you down in any way because I know you could make it anywhere, but I need you as much as you need me.”
He couldn’t help but feel like she was talking about more than just a job right now. It had to be lonely out here, and more than anything he knew how lonely it was to care for a person who was once your parental figure. That’s when he saw it… Felicia, despite all the people in town and her best friends since childhood, still needed a friend. A good friend who wasn’t distracted by his or her own life. “You’re right.”
She blinked, as if surprised she didn’t have to fight more.
“About most of it. I did push you away and try to frighten you so that I could protect myself from any trouble. And let’s face it, feelings are trouble. And Felicia, I have feelings for you, the kind that mean I want to take you on a date, bring you presents, hold your hand, and watch the sunset or the night stars.”
She leaned into him, and he knew there still had to be a line drawn between them. He had to find the strength to control his own emotions and desires. “But that can never be.” He dropped his hand to his side and backed away. The distance was like a mile-deep crevasse between them he feared he’d fall into if he touched her again.
“Why?” she whispered, as if she didn’t want to know the truth.
Declan hunted for a pot, for a knife, for the pepper, for anything but Felicia and her distracting pull. “You need to promise me that if I stay here, we keep things platonic. I’d love to be your friend and live here while I get on my feet and help you, but I can’t get close to you.”
“Not that I’m saying I want any more than a friendship with you… Yes, I like and respect you. You’re the hardest worker I know. But why close off possibilities? You just said you like me, so I don’t understand.”
He forced his emotions under control, knowing she would argue with any reason he gave, leaving them both open to complications between them. And he couldn’t let that thought exist. “You don’t have to. You just have to respect my wishes.” He pushed his shoulders back and hand out to her. “Deal?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her brows furrowed. He could see the internal struggle rage inside her, but then she took his hand with a firm grip. “Deal.”
Relief should have flooded him, but her touch only doused him with more doubt, opening him up to what ifs, so he slipped away under the guise of preparing the chicken for dinner.
Felicia cleared her throat. “For now, until you see yourself the way I see you. A man worthy of more than just a job. A man worthy of compassion, companionship, and to be cherished for all the gifts he offers the world.”
Seven
Dinner tasted even more amazing than it smelled. Felicia dug in, and to her surprise, Nana used her adapted fork to puncture a piece and ate it in front of a stranger. The same Nana who refused to eat in front of anyone but Felicia.
Fluffy and Fuzzy meowed at their feet, as if the aroma was feline fabulous, too. Nana managed to eat five pieces before her arm gave out and she dropped the fork to the table.
Declan retrieved the utensil before she could warn him that Nana might impale him with it. “Let me help you with that.”
Instead of Nana chomping her mouth shut like a vise grip, she opened wide. She chewed the piece while Declan arranged the strap on her other hand. “I know it’ll be tough, and you need to use the other arm as much as possible, but let’s try using your nondominant hand for part of the meal.”
Nana swallowed. “I don’t know if I can. The therapist tried to get me to last time I saw her, and I nearly poked my eye out.”
“What if I keep my hand on yours and guide it to your mouth?” Declan asked in a non-condescending, I’m-happy-to-help tone.
She smiled. Nana smiled. What was going on? Felicia had tried to get Nana to try the other hand every day, but she’d given up the last time after her grandmother threw her plate on the floor and refused to ever eat again. “I think I can do it if you help me.”
Felicia sat back and watched as her fiercely independent grandmother melted into whatever Declan said. That was his gift—helping people without making them feel like they needed assistance. As if it was his absolute pleasure with no strings attached. This was not the personality of a bad man who served time, white collar or not. A man like this didn’t take what didn’t belong to him. He only knew how to give.
“You gonna sit there staring at me throughout dinner, or you going to eat? Because if you aren’t going to eat that, I will.”
Felicia picked up her fork but watched out of the corner of her eye as Declan dabbed at her grandmother’s mouth. The woman was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, giggling in between bites. She didn’t even scream or throw something when food fell from her mouth. Was Nana flirting?
The meal continued until the woman who hadn’t eaten more than a few morsels of a meal since her stroke had cleaned her plate. Felicia savored the last two bites of rich goodness on her own plate. Declan dabbed her grandmother’s lips, brushed off the crumbs on her bib, and then unstrapped the fork from her hand. “Next time, we’ll try to go a little longer with the other hand, but now you know you can eat with both.”
“Only with your help.” Nana winked at him.
Felicia dropped her fork unceremoniously onto her plate with a loud clank.
“Don’t be jealous. I need the help. You don’t,” Nana said with a devious chuckle.
Felicia wanted to ask what the heck was going on, but she’d wait until later when they were alone. “I’ll get these dishes done.”
“I’ve got them. You hang with your grandmother while I clean up.”
“You cooked,” Felicia said, stacking her plate on his.
Declan swiped all three plates and stood. “You’ve had a long day, and I’ve been monopolizing your lovely nana all through dinner. I’ll let you two have some time together.” He reached the sink and started the water before she could argue. Which was fine with her because she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“What’s going on with you?”
Nana’s thin, painted-on brows rose. “Whatever do you mean?”
Felicia leaned over the table and whispered, “You ate all your dinner. You never eat like that.”
“You don’t cook like that. No offense, darling, but you’re a terrible chef.” Nana waved her hands at Felicia. “And get your elbows off the table. Have you forgotten your manners?”
She dropped her hands to her lap but kept leaning in to talk without Declan overhearing them. “It’s not just that you ate all your food. You were…were…flirting with him.”
“I’m old but I ain’t blind, not legally anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Felicia asked.
“It means that if you’re not going to go after that hunk of handsome,
I will.” She pursed her lips in a wrinkly O shape.
Felicia sat back in her chair. “It’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated? He’s handsome, strong, kindhearted, giving, a hard worker, and has a butt you could bounce a shovel off of.”
“Nana.”
“What? I’m not lying.” She eyed Declan like another piece of his excellently prepared chicken.
Felicia debated how much to tell her grandmother. If she told her the truth, would she insist that he leave? Would she turn on him because he had served time? It didn’t matter. This was her grandmother’s house, and she deserved to know the truth. In all the years she’d lived with Nana, the number-one rule was that they didn’t keep secrets from each other. “He’s an ex-con.”
The water cut off, and Felicia knew he’d heard her. She wanted to pull the words back in, but it was too late.
“So?” She didn’t seem the least bit surprised.
“Wait, you knew?” Felicia crossed her arms over her chest.
“I had a stroke. I’m not deaf.” She shrugged. Her left shoulder moved close to her ear, but the other one only rose a millimeter or two. “I do have visitors, you know. I’m not a complete hermit.”
“Ms. Horton.” Of course she’d told Nana. Ms. Horton always looked out for the girls, and despite the fact that she’d agreed to allow Declan to stay in town, she wouldn’t leave Felicia completely unprotected.
“Maybe. Doesn’t matter. If you can’t see he’s a good man, you don’t deserve him.”
Wow. Where had that come from? “No man I’ve ever brought home has been good enough for me. But Declan, a man the town wants to drive outside of our boarders, one who served time, is unemployed, is good enough for me?”
