Beauty in Hiding

by Robin Patchen

  When Red didn’t answer, Jack turned to face him. The man’s eyes were scrunched up like he was thinking. “You know what, son? I don’t rightly know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was after ten when Harper got home. She pushed open the door to find Jack seated on the sofa, staring at the TV. Gramps’s chair was empty.

  “How was your night?” she asked.

  He didn’t return her smile. “Interesting.”

  What did that mean? She closed the door behind her and crossed to the kitchen. “Was Gramps okay?”

  “He’s tucked in bed.”

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Jack clicked off the TV and joined her. “You’re right on time.” Still no smile. Maybe he got grouchy when he was sleepy.

  “Thanks for staying with him.” She opened the refrigerator, saw a plate covered with plastic wrap. Was that…? “You made steak?”

  “Yup.” He leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms.

  She pulled out the plate, took the plastic wrap off, and inhaled the scent. “That smells divine. You mind if I eat in front of you?”

  “I ate.”

  She paused halfway to the microwave and turned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Red and I had a long chat tonight.”

  Uh-oh. She set the plate on the table, her appetite quickly fading. “About what?”

  “This and that. Like how you’re not really his granddaughter.”

  She lowered herself into a chair.

  Jack didn’t move.

  “I just…” She forced herself to make eye contact, but it wasn’t easy the way Jack was glowering at her. “I’m his nurse, and he’s given me… I can get out the paper that gives me the right to make medical decisions for him. But it’s easier—”

  “Why are you here?”

  Her empty stomach filled with acid. Could she trust Jack with this? Would he believe her?

  She nodded to the chair beside her. “Can you sit down please?”

  He eyed the chair.

  She pushed away the cold plate, clasped her shaking hands together in her lap.

  “Derrick—”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  “Ex.” She said it too fast, as if it mattered. As if Jack would care, which, after this, he obviously wouldn’t. Not about her, not that way. “He’s been my ex for a while. He has a problem.”

  “Gambling.”

  What hadn’t Gramps told him? “He owes a lot of money.”

  “To loan sharks,” Jack said. “They want their money, and Red wouldn’t bail Derrick out.”

  She nodded, prayed for wisdom. Would he believe her, or would he turn her in?

  She met his eyes, saw the determination there. And the anger. “Gramps doesn’t know everything,” she said.

  His eyebrows lifted. “He thinks he does.”

  “I didn’t tell him the truth.”

  Jack crossed his arms. “At least I’m not the only one. You’ve lied to me about everything. You lied to ‘Gramps’”—his air quotes told her what he thought about that—“so why should I believe you now?”

  A wave of irritation—or was it fear?—had her pushing back in her chair. “What makes you think you deserve the truth from me? You’re my landlord. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  He blinked. “I’ve done nothing but—”

  “Yeah, I know. You’ve helped and helped.” Here it came, what she’d been waiting for. His demands for repayment. Tell him everything, and then he’d have even more of a hold over her. Then he’d be able to use it all against her. She stood, backed away until she bumped into the countertop. “And now it’s time to pay up? Because that’s what every other man I’ve ever known has told me. How much I owe them for their kindness.” Her voice cracked. Stupid, stupid Harper. She’d known this would happen.

  She’d thought Jack was different.

  “Harper, I would never—”

  “Kindness is never free. Never.”

  His hands lifted, palms out. “I didn’t—”

  “I’ll come up with the money to pay you back for…for whatever you think I owe you. Your time, your energy, that ramp outside. Whatever. But I won’t… I can’t…” She waved at the air, at the expectations she knew he had.

  “What do you think I’m asking for?”

  “More than I can give.”

  “Just the truth.”

  “And then you’ll know everything. And then what will you want? What will you demand?”

  “Nothing.”

  Right. Like she could believe that. “We’ll be gone in the morning.”

  “What?” He stepped back, hands still lifted. “No. Wait. You don’t have to—”

  “We’re paid through the end of the month. You can take what I owe you out of that. If you think there’s more—”

  “You don’t owe me money. You don’t owe me anything.”

  Tears burned her eyes, and she looked away. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anybody. “Just go.”

  “Harper, I’m not trying—”

  “What’s going on here?” Red’s shout had them both turning.

  The old man stood in the doorway. His pajamas were wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed in dark circles. He leaned heavily on his walker with one hand and pointed a gnarly finger at Jack with the other. “What did you do?”

  Jack’s hands were still up. “I was just asking her—”

  “You hurt that girl”—Red shook his finger—“I’ll take you out.”

  “I would never…” Jack’s eyes were wide, his mouth open.

  Harper looked back at Gramps. The color had drained from his face, making his red eyes look even worse. “We’re okay,” she said. “Everything’s fine. We were just talking.”

  “Talking loud enough to wake the dead.” He glared at Jack.

  “We’re okay.” She crossed toward the old man. Jack had to step out of the way so she could pass. She was careful to leave plenty of space between them. “I’m sorry we woke you.”

  Another moment passed before he jerked his walker back toward the hallway. “Had to use the bathroom anyway.”

  She followed him into the hall and waited outside the bathroom door, then escorted him back to his bedroom and got him settled. He seemed hardly awake as he rested his head on his pillow.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I heard yelling. I thought… I thought…”

  “You thought I was in trouble. I understand. You were protecting me.” She patted his shoulder. “And I love you for it.” She reached for the lamp, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head. Of course Jack was frustrated with her. She’d lied to him. A lot. And now she’d overreacted. Accused him of… Shame burned her cheeks. What was wrong with her?

  “I told Jack stuff tonight,” Gramps said.

  “I figured that out.”

  “I didn’t mean to make trouble for you. But I think we should trust him.” His lids drifted shut. When he said nothing else, she switched the light off and left him to sleep.

  She found Jack pulling a plate from the microwave. The room was filled with the scent of meat and pepper and roasted vegetables. He set the plate on the table. “I think you need to eat.”

  She tried to come up with a witty response, but her stomach spoke for her with a growl.

  Jack’s lips twitched. “Hangry much?”

  She snatched a fork and knife from the drawer and sat. The first bite of steak melted in her mouth. She couldn’t help the “Mmm” as she cut the second.

  Jack slid a glass of water onto the table, then stood behind his chair and curled his hands over the top.

  She swallowed her third bite while she tried to figure out what to say. What to do.

  She couldn’t trust this man.

  She couldn’t not trust him, either. Because despite her big pronouncement earlier, they had nowhe
re to go and no money to get there.

  “You might as well sit,” she said.

  “Your… Red… is pretty angry with me. Maybe I should go.”

  “He won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

  Jack blew out a long breath. “You don’t owe me anything. My kindness doesn’t come with a price tag.”

  “Gramps…” She took a deep breath, started again. “Red doesn’t believe in debt. Did he tell you that?”

  Jack didn’t respond. Didn’t sit. Just studied her as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. Eyes hooded, mouth closed, fists clenched over the chair.

  “He doesn’t believe in consumer debt, anyway,” she said. “He’ll take out a loan to buy a property but nothing else.”

  She met his gaze, waited for a response. Finally, he said, “Okay.”

  “He does believe there’s something we should all owe.”

  “Which is?” Jack asked.

  She nodded to the chair again. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”

  He sat, back straight, hands clasped together on the table.

  “He says, ‘The only thing you should ever owe is love.’”

  Jack blinked, tilted his head to the side.

  She shrugged, ate another bite of her dinner, sipped her water. “I guess it’s from the Bible.”

  “‘Owe no man anything, but to love one another,’” Jack said. “It’s in Romans.”

  Jack knew the reference? If that wasn’t confirmation that she should trust him, she didn’t know what was. “So I do owe you something, don’t I?”

  “You really—”

  “I don’t think it’s possible to…” She faltered, looked away. “It’s impossible to love your neighbor…” There, that sounded non-romantic, right? She met his eyes again. “When you’re telling so many lies.”

  He nearly smiled. “Good point.”

  “I’m not good at trusting people.”

  “Not even Red, apparently.”

  “What? No. I trust him completely.”

  “You just said he doesn’t know the whole story. So you must not.”

  “Oh. That.” She took a deep breath, speared a bite of potato. It was delicious, but she’d already eaten more than she should this late at night. She pushed the plate to the center of the table and sipped from the water Jack had given her.

  He glanced at the plate. “You’re not done already, are you?”

  “It’s a lot.”

  He eyed the steak, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Go on. You know you want to.”

  “I’m not proud.” He pulled it toward him and cut a piece for himself.

  “Typical man.”

  His amusement faded. “I hope what you think is ‘typical’ for a man isn’t true of me.”

  She felt her cheeks burn. The last thing she wanted was to return to this conversation. “I just meant…”

  When she didn’t finish, he said, “Yeah, I know.”

  He finished off her dinner in about five minutes, then pushed back in his chair.

  She stood before he could, grabbed the dirty dish, and set it in the sink.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything,” he said. “You’re right. It’s none of my business, and you don’t owe me anything.”

  She wanted to tell him. But what if he didn’t believe her? There was too much to lose. Not just the tenuous life they’d made here in Nutfield, but the connection she and Jack had forged. She didn’t want to lose that. She didn’t want to lose Jack.

  He stood, pushed in his chair. He glanced at the doorway, then focused on her again.

  Their gazes met, though neither spoke.

  The air between them pulsed.

  Neither moved. She knew she should look away, but she couldn’t seem to force herself to. Here was a man who’d done nothing but help her. Who’d been kind to her and Gramps. Here was a man who cooked for her and served her. How could she not want to be with a man like him?

  He crossed the room toward her. She should step back, out of his reach, but her feet weren’t cooperating. Or maybe they were listening to her heart, not her head, because there was something reassuring in his movements.

  He took her hands in his. When he met her eyes, he was so close, she could feel his breath in her hair.

  She had to stop this, now. Before it went too far. But she didn’t have the strength.

  She’d never had the strength.

  He bent his head, his gaze flitting from her eyes to her lips. He was going to kiss her. A kiss was supposed to mark the beginning of something good.

  But for her, every kiss had been the beginning of a downward spiral that led to her destruction.

  A descent into drugs.

  A prison sentence.

  A horrifying assault in a parking lot.

  And now, this.

  But Jack didn’t know any of that. His lips brushed hers.

  She told herself not to, but as always, her body refused to obey. She kissed him back, feeling his hunger, his need. Every cell in her body responded to that need.

  Her arms slid around his neck, her mouth opened, and her self-control disappeared.

  This kiss was more powerful than any she’d experienced before. Which meant the fallout would be devastating.

  She pushed him away.

  He stepped back, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “You need to go.”

  He blinked, and his gaze filled with sadness, worry, regret.

  She understood that last one. She’d live to regret that kiss. This time, she might never recover.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  Her laugh was short and joyless. “Right.”

  “I promise. I’m not—”

  “Go. Now.”

  He watched her, his eyes pleading, begging. For what, she wished she didn’t know. But she did know what he wanted, and she knew exactly what it would cost to give it to him.

  “I’m sorry.” He turned, walked toward the front door. She didn’t move, couldn’t bring herself to watch him leave.

  The door opened, then closed with a soft click.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jack set his egg-and-sausage burrito on the kitchen table beside his coffee and opened his laptop.

  He’d run a credit check on Harper before he’d rented her the house, and he’d found nothing that bothered him. He’d called her previous landlord in Las Vegas, who’d confirmed that she’d always paid her rent on time and never caused any trouble. What else had he needed to know?

  Nothing then. And nothing now.

  Because her life was none of his business. She’d made that very clear the night before when she’d ordered him out of the house.

  He swallowed a sip of coffee and tried not to think about that kiss.

  It was just a kiss. And he shouldn’t have done it. He’d known it was a mistake even as he’d crossed the room.

  What an idiot. Red and Harper meant so much to him, but when he stripped away his emotions and looked at the core of the situation, he remembered that they were renters. His first renters, and he’d totally blown it. What if Harper reported him for sexual harassment or something?

  The thought didn’t take root. Even after everything, he didn’t think she was the type. Not vindictive. Not vengeful.

  Just suspicious.

  And people who were suspicious of others were often the ones others needed to be suspicious of.

  If that even made sense.

  He opened a browser window, clicked in the search bar.

  Hesitated.

  Bit into the burrito. The spicy pork sausage and salty cheddar cheese were the perfect accompaniment to the eggs. He had another bite.

  Finished the whole thing.

  Sipped his coffee while he glanced at the news on his homepage. Typical political junk. Why couldn’t people just get along? Be nice, for crying out loud? Be honest?

  Harper had been anything but honest.

  She was abso
lutely not the type of woman he should fall for.

  Should have fallen for, he amended, because he was already careening toward a crash landing. And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  All the lies, all the deception, all the suspicion didn’t change who she was beneath that hard shell.

  He’d felt the truth in her kiss. In the way her arms had slid around his neck. The way her lips had parted, soft and eager and—

  Not going there.

  Right.

  This was ridiculous.

  He found a website that would do a national background check for thirty bucks. Paid the money and typed her name.

  He hit enter before he could talk himself out of it.

  He watched the progress bar inch to the right, his slow internet practically huffing with the effort. Only a handful of results were returned. It just took a second to find the listing for his Harper.

  His Harper. Like that was ever going to happen.

  He clicked, watched the progress bar again. Sipped his coffee. Hated himself.

  What kind of man did a background check on the woman he…

  Nope. He had to shut his stupid brain up.

  And then, results.

  He set down the coffee and stared at the screen.

  His hands trembled. It couldn’t be.

  More clicks, more searches. He read the stories. A man had been killed in a liquor store robbery.

  Three people had gone to prison for the murder.

  Harper Cloud was a convicted felon.

  This and that.

  The words kept running through Jack’s mind as he showered and prepared for his day. The words Harper had used to describe the time between when her boyfriend had been sent to prison and the time she’d moved to Maryland.

  This and that.

  Jack couldn’t get the situation, or the woman, out of his mind.

  Because this and that referred to prison.

  She’d been in prison.

  That sweet, beautiful woman had been an accessory to murder?

  It couldn’t be. Surely she’d been wrongfully convicted.

  He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So he focused on something else.