by Sabrina York
He clapped his hand to his chest. “Such heresy.”
“I’m more of a wine-r.”
“And here I had you pegged for Appletinis.”
“Oh, I won’t say no to an Appletini. Or a Lemondrop.” Her lips quirked.
She stilled when she realized they were having a conversation…and she was enjoying it.
Where the hell had that come from?
With the realization, heat crawled up her neck and she looked away. “Um, thank you for helping me back there.”
“You didn’t seem to need much help, but I had to step in. That guy fucking pissed me off.”
“I think you broke his arm.”
“Did I? So sorry,” he said, utterly unrepentantly. “He was lucky.”
“Was he?”
“I didn’t want to scare you more.”
She stared at him. “Scare me…more?”
“Yeah. You looked pretty shook up.”
She had been. And she had to wonder what he might have done if his fury slipped the leash. “I, well, thank you.”
“What were you doing out there at that hour anyway?” His gaze bore into her.
She tipped up her chin at the accusation in his words. She’d heard it before. You were asking for it. She hated that bullshit attitude. “I just got off work.”
“You walked from work?”
“It’s not that far.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
Oh, she didn’t care for his tone at all. “I am aware of that.”
“Don’t you have a car?”
“Of course I have a car.”
“Where is it?”
“In the parking lot.” She waved at the window and snarled, “Where it will be until I can afford a mechanic.” God damn son of a bitch—
“You broke down?”
Duh. “I wasn’t walking for my health.”
“Obviously.”
She nearly smacked him. How dare he judge her? He knew nothing about her. He was just a guy who’d passed her in the halls in high school. A guy who’d run from this town at first chance. A guy who—
“I’ll have a look at it in the morning.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“Don’t look so surprised. I know my way around an engine.”
“I’m not surprised. Well, not about that. It’s just…”
He tipped his head to the side and studied her. “What?”
“Why are you helping me?”
It was his turn to gape. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I help you?”
She huffed a sigh. “Everyone has an ulterior motive. Always.”
“That’s a pretty cynical view of life.”
“I have reason to be cynical.”
He studied her for a long moment and then nodded, as though he’d peeked into her soul and seen all her secrets. She didn’t like the feeling. It was far too raw.
“Okay. I do have an ulterior motive.”
Bitterness surged up her throat and danced on her tongue. Yeah. She knew it. He was too fucking good to be true. “And what is that?”
He eased forward, to the edge of his seat, and leaned in. Then he whispered, “I always liked you, Melissa Divine.”
Hell. Is that what it was? Was he one of those men? Men who traded for favors? Disappointment ravaged her.
“You were nice to me, back then. When I needed a friend. And I feel the urge to return the kindness.”
“I…what?”
“Don’t you remember? When I flunked the algebra exam and you tutored me?”
Oh. Yeah. “I remember.”
“But it was more than just that. You were always nice.” He leaned back, threaded his fingers and stared at them. “We were friends. Weren’t we? I like to think we were.”
Something lodged in her throat. Something thick and clingy. “We were.”
“Well, there you go.” He offered a smile, but it was a little wobbly. “I’d like to be friends again.”
Try as she might, she couldn’t completely eradicate her suspicion. “Just friends?”
He lifted a broad shoulder. “Don’t jump the gun, honey. We just met again.” It was a jest, one designed to put her at ease. It didn’t work.
She sucked in a breath and stiffened her spine. “Because, in the interest of full disclosure, I just got out of one bad relationship and I have no desire to…indulge in another.”
He sighed and scrubbed his face. “Look, I’m only in town for a short while, and, in the interest of full disclosure, I’m not looking for a relationship either. But if you’re asking me if I find you attractive, I do. And if you are asking if I would be interested in exploring something with you, I would. But if you’re not ready or interested in anything like that, I’ll settle for friendship. If you’re willing.” He shot her another smile. “I could use a friend or two in town.”
Damn. He did seem sincere.
There was nothing creepy lurking in his demeanor, and she was a pretty good judge of creepy.
“I…would like to be friends,” she said. But it took effort.
Trust took effort.
He nodded. “Well, there you go. Friends.” He thrust out his hand and she took it. His warmth seared her, comforted her. She didn’t want to let go, but she had to.
She was the one who had drawn the lines here and she didn’t want to give him mixed messages now.
“Friends.”
“Excellent. Now, I’m tired. I have to get up and go to the courthouse in the morning. You’re welcome to stay here if you don’t want to be alone. I totally understand. Or I can walk you to your room.”
The thought of being alone sent a ribbon of panic through her. But she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t test this fragile friendship right off the bat. Could she?”
He stood and headed for the closet. “You can have the bed.”
“I can’t take your bed!” Then, when he pulled out a blanket and pillow and tossed them to the ground, “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”
His chuckle was harsh. “Trust me, compared to some of the places I’ve slept, this carpet is like a feather bed.”
“Andrew, I won’t put you out.”
He turned and fixed her with a steady stare. “It would put me out worrying about you all night. Really, it would. But if you’d rather not stay, that’s cool too.”
Damn it.
She wanted to stay. Needed to stay. But that weakness irritated her.
She didn’t like to think she needed anyone.
But she found she did need what he was offering.
Companionship.
And she needed it bad.
Chapter Four
Melissa was still sleeping when Andy woke up. He lay there for a moment on the hard floor, just enjoying the sound of her snores.
The fact that she snored amused him.
After a while he sucked in a deep breath and levered to his feet, biting his tongue to keep from groaning. It had been a foolish chivalry to give her the bed. His knee and his hip were screaming at him. He hobbled to the bathroom and indulged in a long, hot shower, which got the joints a little warmed up.
He was going to need to find a good masseuse before long, because his old injury was beginning to complain again.
He left Melissa sleeping because it seemed like she needed it, and he didn’t want to scare her by waking her up—she seemed pretty skittish when it came to men. But if what Joseph told him was true, Andy understood why.
After a visit to the police station to make sure the creep that had attacked her was staying in custody, he headed over to the courthouse to review the details of his father’s estate. As he expected, other than the property, there wasn’t much left.
There probably wouldn’t even have been that if the ranch and the house hadn’t been in his mother’s name. She had willed the estate to her two sons. Even if his dad had wanted to drink it away, he couldn’t have.
A wave of grief and regret pummeled him at the thought. As a ki
d he’d always imagined himself and his brother working the land together. But now he was the only one left.
Damn Marcus Grant.
Damn him to hell.
At least there weren’t a ton of probate costs and Andy had a healthy savings from the years he’d served as a contractor to the military after he’d retired as a SEAL. So if he decided to stay and keep the ranch, he could afford it.
He stilled as the thought hit him.
Staying had never been the plan.
Now, somehow, it not only seemed possible, but he might even enjoy it.
In his hatred for his father, he’d completely forgotten how much he’d loved this town. How hard it had been at first to leave all his friends. Now, this unpleasant pit stop on his tour of the Southwest had become something more.
It all revolved around her.
A woman who wanted nothing more than friendship.
Well, hell.
He was staying.
At least long enough to explore this.
Until he was sure there could be nothing more between them, he was here for the duration.
Melissa awoke in a warm nest to the smell of coffee and bacon.
It took a second for her brain to shift into gear and when it did, when she recalled everything that had happened last night, she froze.
She was in Andrew’s room. In his bed. And he was…humming.
Cautiously, she cracked open a lid and peeped at the table by the window where he sat reading the paper and drinking from a Styrofoam cup. The paper plate in front of him was empty, but another sat covered on the other side of the table.
She could only assume it was for her.
He’d brought her breakfast.
Her stomach growled and he glanced in her direction. When he saw she was awake, he lifted his coffee in a silent salute and went back to his reading.
It was the fact he didn’t pin her with any intense scrutiny that encouraged her to sit up and edge off the bed.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked without glancing up.
She padded toward the table and sat, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. “Fine.” She carefully unwound the plastic silverware from the napkin and uncovered the plate.
“It may be cold,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I don’t mind,” she responded, but it was a complete lie. She hated nothing more than cold eggs. Except cold and snotty eggs. She poked at them with her fork. “Did you go to Millie’s Diner?”
He did look up at that. His gaze tangled with hers and she struggled to remain blasé. But damn, he had beautiful eyes. “Is Millie’s Diner the one around the corner?”
She grimaced. “Yes.”
“That’s where I went.”
“Well, for future reference, you’re better off going the extra block to the Sunshine Café if you like breakfast that hasn’t been basted in grease.”
“Sorry.”
She smiled to take the sting out of her criticism. Because she really did appreciate his thoughtfulness. “Willie was a short order cook for the Navy and old habits—”
Andy chuckled and held up a hand. “’Nuff said. I spent half my life in a chow hall. I didn’t even notice that the eggs were bad. But the coffee’s good.”
“Mmm. The coffee is always good at Millie’s.” She took a sip and moaned as the rich flavor warmed her.
“Do you eat there often?”
“Never,” she said on a laugh. She knew better. “I work there.”
“Wait.” He put down his paper and fixed his attention on her. “I thought you worked at Hardbodies.”
“I do.”
“And Millie’s?”
“Yep.” At his astonished expression, she added, “I’m saving up. For a place of my own.”
“Ah. I see.”
She almost believed he did.
“Well, thank you for breakfast. It was very thoughtful.”
He lifted an enormous shoulder. “I was getting something for myself anyway.”
“It was still thoughtful. You will have to let me repay you.”
“You don’t have to repay me,” he growled. For some reason, her suggestion annoyed him.
“I know. But I would feel better if I did.”
“But—”
“Shut up.”
She froze the second the words came out of her mouth. Oh, hell. She would never have been this flip with Baron. She didn’t know why she’d sassed Andrew. Didn’t know why she’d done so without a thought to the consequences. But now he would retaliate. He would—
Laugh.
Was he laughing?
She stared at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn’t. He was genuinely amused by her attitude.
Of their own volition, her lips quirked.
Man, how wonderful would it be to say what she liked without worrying about infuriating someone? It had been a long time since she felt she could be herself.
She might actually enjoy this friendship.
“So,” she said, taking another sip of coffee. “What are your plans for the day?”
It was such an utterly domesticated scene it made her want to laugh.
“Well, first I want to have that look at your car. Then I thought I’d go check out my father’s house to see what condition it’s in.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “I always loved that house. What are you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know. Bulldoze it?”
She gaped at him. “Why?”
But he only shrugged.
“I always thought that was a perfect house,” she said.
“Perfect?” She didn’t understand the bitterness in his tone.
“With the columns. The bay windows. The whimsical lattice. That old oak in front. Very evocative.”
“Maybe it will sell quickly.”
“You’re going to sell it?” Damn. She wished she had the money to buy it.
For some reason he glanced at her before responding. “Not sure yet.”
“Not sure if you’re going to sell it?”
“Not sure if I’m staying here.”
The thought of him leaving town and never coming back filled her with an unaccountable sadness. She had no idea why. “When will you know?”
“When I know.” He smiled at her to soften his words.
She was intuitive enough to see that he didn’t want to discuss it, so she blew out a breath and said, “I just can’t imagine anyone not wanting to live in that house.” It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She remembered driving past it on the way to church on Sundays thinking it looked like a fairytale castle. Of course, she’d only been a child then, but it still stood at the forefront of her mind as the height of perfection. All other houses had been measured against that one.
“There are…bad memories there.”
She flinched as she remembered. His brother had died there. Not in the house, but in the barn, which was close enough. Everyone in town had been stunned when it came out that Danny Grant had taken his own life. “I’m sorry. I forgot.” She toyed with her napkin. “But there must be some happy memories too.”
Andrew nodded, but looked away. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you…” She broke off when she realized the impudence of her question.
“Do I what?”
“Nothing. It was stupid.”
“There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” he said.
“You haven’t heard the question yet,” she quipped.
“Try me.”
With a heavy sigh, she blurted it out. “Would you like me to go with you when you visit the house?”
He didn’t respond, other than to stare at her with an intensity that made all her nerves prickle. She was about to withdraw the offer when he swallowed heavily and said in a choked voice, “I would love to have some company, Melissa. Thank you for offering.”
It was the hardest thing he’d done in a while, driving up that familiar drive to the house he hated.
He was so thankful for Melissa’s cheerful presence at his side. It was as though she chased the darkness away.
She’d been so thrilled that he’d fixed her car—though it had only been a couple of loose spark plugs—she’d given him a hug.
He could still feel her warmth.
When they pulled to a stop before the house, his fingers clamped on the steering wheel.
“Well,” she said in a chirp. “Here we are.”
“Here we are.”
“The barn looks like it needs a coat of paint.”
He glanced to the left and nodded. It probably needed a good deal more than a coat of paint. His father had not been one for taking care of business, unless business involved getting shitfaced and beating his wife and kids.
“The house could use some sprucing up too. Can you imagine how pretty that trim would be in a bright white?”
“It would be pretty.” But he just said that to be polite. His stomach was churning and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. Damn. This was going to be harder than he’d anticipated.
“Andrew?”
She waited until he met her gaze. “Hmm?”
“It’s just a house.” This she said in a whisper, but there was a wealth of empathy behind it. As though she knew what he was working through. As though she understood.
Then again, of all the people in the world, she probably did.
He nodded and briskly levered from the car and, when she joined him in the yard, made his way up the path to the porch.
The rose bushes his mother had planted along that walk were overgrown and speckled with weeds. He’d need to take care of that. Mom had always loved roses and he hated to think of her babies being in a derelict state.
The porch steps creaked as he mounted them, and he added that to his list of things that needed to be done. Keeping a list was a great way to deal with a situation without facing it emotionally. It was a strategy he’d perfected through hundreds of missions in dangerous territory.
Nothing was more dangerous than this.
When he tried to fit the key into the lock, his hand shook. He sucked in a deep breath, steadied himself, and tried again. The turn of the tumblers resonated through him.
He pushed the door open and it swung in, creaking on its hinges. He almost expected the specter of his father to come screaming down the stairs in a rage.
