Close to Heart

by T. J. Kline

  “Like I’d be caught in flannel,” Dylan said with a laugh, looking down at his Henley.

  “It looks cute on her though,” Julia pointed out.

  Julia had loaned her a stretchy tank top and pair of leggings to wear as well, but she might as well be naked for the heat in Justin’s eyes. Alyssa felt Justin’s gaze skim over her from her damp hair to her face, devoid of makeup, before lingering at her lips. His eyes traveled over his button-up flannel shirt, hugging her curves over her belly. Alyssa felt a shiver of yearning settle over her shoulders, warming the butterflies in her stomach, and felt heat curling even lower.

  It had been a long time since a man looked at her like this. Not just with lust but with admiration, as if there was more to her than her body and looks. A smile spread over his lips, making his eyes twinkle slightly.

  “Yeah, it does.”

  Alyssa felt a blush spread over her face, and she looked down quickly, unable to hold that deep blue gaze. He was far too attractive, too charming, which made staying here in her circumstances far too dangerous for her emotions.

  She was still a married woman, at least for the time being, and Justin was stirring things, both in her body and her heart, that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Both equally wrong in her eyes until she made some decisions. And to do that, she needed to talk to Franklin. The last thing she needed was accusations of clandestine affairs from the tabloids.

  Justin adjusted the straw cowboy hat on his head before meeting her gaze. “But, have no fear.” Justin held her overnight bag up. “When I stopped by the body shop, Dave hadn’t left for El Dorado Hills yet so I grabbed your bags. The rest of them are in the truck.” He cocked a brow at her. “You didn’t tell me you had four bags,” he teased.

  She rose from the table as gracefully as her belly would allow, excited to have her own clothing again, and hurried to him. “Thank you!”

  Reaching for the bag, her fingers slid over his hand. Lightning struck between them, hot and electric, shocking them both. They simultaneously jerked back and the bag fell to the floor. Her eyes met Justin’s and she could see the desire, seductive and intense, within. It was enough to steal her breath and her ability to speak as well as any other natural brain function.

  This man wasn’t just dangerous. He was deadly to her resolve.

  Julia cleared her throat, breaking the spell between them, and Justin’s eyes shuttered as he reached for her bag again. Alyssa took a step backward.

  “If you’re ready, I’ll take this back out to the truck and we can head over to my place to get you settled in. I need to relieve Bailey with the pups.” There was a hesitation to his voice, making her wonder if she hadn’t imagined the heat in his gaze all along.

  “Puppies?” Julia asked.

  “Great,” Dylan grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Thanks, Justin. That’s just what we need. More dogs.”

  “What do you care? You’re gone twelve hours a day at the station.” She shushed her fiancé, waving a hand at him. “Besides, puppies are far easier to train, and I need some young dogs in training before the baby comes.”

  “Well, these are Lab mixes, so I’m not sure if they’re what you’re looking for. When Alyssa’s car spun out in the snow, the mom got clipped. We delivered the pups by C-section. Too young for training.” Justin eyed his sister. “I don’t suppose we could keep them here?”

  Julia held her hands up. “Oh, no. I have four dogs I’m finishing right now, and two of the new handlers will be here in the next few days. I’m going to have a full house, so I won’t have time for puppies until those little guys are weaned. But once they are . . . ”

  Dylan shook his head and pressed a kiss to Julia’s temple. “At least you know they’ll all have good homes, Justin.”

  Justin wiggled his brows as he turned back toward her. “I guess we’re back to square one. Just you and me, stuck keeping an eye on them around the clock.”

  She wondered if she shouldn’t have felt guiltier that the thought of being stuck here no longer worried her the way it had only a few hours ago. Suddenly, being forced to wait for her car repairs didn’t seem like such a chore.

  Chapter Five

  “WELCOME TO MY castle,” Justin said as he held open the front door for Alyssa.

  “It’s . . . nice.”

  Justin ignored the judgment he could hear in Alyssa’s voice as he brushed past her, heading toward the back bedroom that was set up for guests. Not that he’d ever had any. He didn’t even bring women back to his house. His sisters and Bailey would never let him live it down if he did. But it irked him to see Alyssa looking down her nose at his house, especially since, without him, she’d have nowhere else to go.

  It might not be as fancy as what she was accustomed to, but he was a small-town veterinarian. Cowboys didn’t bother with fancy. Jessie was the one with the nice house, since it had been the one used for their family’s dude ranch. When he’d decided to open the clinic on his portion of the property, he’d built what was functional and necessary for his needs. Those needs were pretty simple. Hell, he was happy if he got a cup of hot coffee in the morning and all of the dishes ended up in the dishwasher before he went to bed.

  He dropped Alyssa’s designer bags at the foot of the queen-sized bed, covered in his mother’s favorite quilt. Justin watched as she glanced around quickly and wondered what she saw with her upper-class, Hollywood eyes. Poverty? Immaturity? A man who was just too busy working to care about things like furniture and comforters? Between the clinic, his ranch calls, and watching out for his sisters and Bailey, he knew he’d slacked off on his housekeeping. There just weren’t enough hours in the day, and something had to give.

  “There’s a bathroom just outside the door to the right,” he said, pointing her in the direction. “Make yourself at home. If you need me, you can find me in the clinic.”

  “Thanks.” Alyssa bit at her bottom lip, and he wondered why she seemed so nervous. She looked up at him through her dark lashes as she laid a hand on his forearm. Desire constricted his lungs and nearly made his heart stop beating for a moment. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here, Justin. It’s been a long couple of days.”

  Justin took a step back, unsure how to best acknowledge her sincerity without revealing his intense reaction. “Um, yeah.”

  Way to go, genius. That didn’t make you sound stupid or anything.

  He cleared his throat and moved his arm away from her hand before trying again. “There’s plenty to eat in the refrigerator. Feel free to have whatever you want. There’s also a phone in the kitchen if you need to call anyone and let them know where you are. Your parents or your husband?”

  A flicker of hesitation skipped over her eyes as the color faded from her cheeks. Her hand moved to curve around her stomach protectively. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that every mention of her husband had been met with this immediate anxiety. As much as he was trying to detach himself from her situation, to remember that her circumstances were none of his business, he couldn’t shake this burning desire to protect her. She seemed fragile, as if a strong breeze might break her.

  She turned away from him and opened her bag. “I will, later. Is it all right if I unpack my things into the dresser? I hate to live out of my suitcase.”

  He didn’t miss the way she quickly changed the subject either. It wasn’t hard to see that she didn’t want to talk about her husband, and he wondered why she was being so reticent. She’d been featured on plenty of tabloids and entertainment shows, so most of her life was already on display. Why all the mystery now?

  He watched her move with delicate grace, the way a dancer would, commanding his gaze to follow her every movement. His eyes followed a line that traced her neck and shoulders then curved along her back and dipped in at her waist before flaring again at her hips. Her lithe frame, even pregnant, was statuesque and willowy, but that didn’t keep her from having curves in all the right places. Pregnancy suited her. He felt the kick of longing in his groin.
r />   She turned back toward him and caught him watching her. “Did you want me to hurry so I can take another shift with the puppies?”

  Think of something, you idiot, or get moving.

  “No, relax today. I’ll come back and fix lunch in a little while. We’ll probably have dinner at Jessie’s tonight since she has a camp starting this weekend and I won’t see her again until it’s over.”

  “Um . . . okay.” She looked uncertain. “Is she like Julia?”

  Justin realized it couldn’t be easy for her. She’d wrecked her car, delivered puppies, been up all night, and now was meeting his overly friendly family. It had to be a tad overwhelming. “Not really. Jessie’s . . . ” He shrugged unsure how best to describe his sister. “She’s Jessie. You’ll like her.”

  “You guys are all pretty close.”

  “We are. After our parents died, we kinda rallied together. We bicker a lot but it’s harmless.” Justin grinned, thinking about how his relationship with Bailey and his sisters must look to an outsider. “But we laugh a lot, too. And no one has my back quite like they do.”

  “That’s nice.” She returned his smile but looked sad again, almost nostalgic. “I never had any brothers or sisters. I used to pretend I did.” She let out a quick laugh. “I guess that was really when I started acting, with my imaginary siblings.”

  Justin couldn’t imagine life without his sisters and Bailey. They were meddling pains-in-the-butt who thought he couldn’t do anything without their help and there were times he wished they’d disappear for a day or two, but he wouldn’t give them up for anything. Alyssa looked as if she wanted to say more, but he saw her eyes shutter and she turned back to her bags to finish unpacking. He watched her, wanting to somehow convey to her that she could trust him, that she could open up the way he could see she longed to. She was carrying some burden that was far too heavy for her slim shoulders, but for the moment, she wasn’t ready to share it.

  He couldn’t continue to stand there, mere inches from her, and not reach out to comfort her. Justin wanted to pull her into his arms and reassure her that everything would be okay. He clenched his jaw against the emotions swirling in him, making him want things he couldn’t have and forget what he knew to be right.

  Spinning on his heel, Justin hurried for the front door. Yipping puppies were easier to face than the maelstrom he felt churning in him whenever he was around Alyssa.

  ALYSSA HEARD THE soft click of the front door as Justin left the house. The silence surrounded her but, oddly, she didn’t feel uncomfortable. The sprawling ranch-style house was tiny compared with the one she lived in with Elijah, but most were. Elijah had insisted on a Beverly Hills monstrosity, decorated by some renowned designer in only silver, black, and white. It felt as frigid as their relationship had become. She’d hated it.

  But Justin’s home was casual, decorated in earth tones and dark wood. Making her way back to the entry, Alyssa inspected the kitchen. A dirty plate and a coffee cup still sat in the sink and a damp towel lay on the counter, but there weren’t many other items out of place. In fact, there weren’t many items at all. There were no decorative touches, nothing to indicate the kitchen was used daily. She pulled open a few drawers, finding only basic cooking utensils and a few sets of silverware. Justin didn’t even have a full set of cups or dishes. One thing she could say about him, he was a pragmatic bachelor, living off only the barest essentials.

  She shook her head, realizing that Justin was a man accustomed to keeping only what he needed and would use. Anything else was frivolity. So unlike Elijah, who bought every item for show. She picked up the dish from the sink. If she was going to stay here, she might as well make herself useful. She loaded it into the dishwasher before finding detergent under the sink and starting the wash cycle. She wandered from the kitchen, down the hallway, and into the other spare bedroom, empty but for a weight machine and treadmill. At least an inch of dust covered both, proving that neither had been used in some time.

  She couldn’t help but remember the way he’d filled out his shirt, all broad chest and back muscles, flat abs and tight biceps. Most actors she knew would kill for Justin’s physique. To think he got it without putting in hours on the machines made her want to laugh at the time Elijah spent with his trainer. She tried to push aside the memory of the way Justin’s solid forearms felt under her fingers. Butterflies fluttered nervously in her stomach again, and she scolded herself for her immature fantasies, trying to convince herself that the pull she felt toward him was nothing more than gratitude. But the heat still churning in her body contradicted her.

  She went into the room across from hers and knew as soon as she reached the doorway, it was Justin’s. His scent filled the room—leather and spice with just a hint of whatever antiseptic soap he used in the clinic. So far, this was the only room in the house that even looked remotely lived in. The bed was unmade and a pair of jeans was tossed over the end. An overly full laundry basket was shoved into a corner against the wall. The man certainly didn’t spend much time cleaning. Of course, she couldn’t fault him too much. If this morning was any indication, he’d been working since before the sun came up, and he’d been there late last night when she crashed her car. Unlike her, he didn’t have a house staff equipped with several washers to do laundry. At least, she used to.

  Next to the hamper, the wall held a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and she moved closer, inspecting the titles, hoping to get some insight into the man who’d rescued her. She pulled out a leather-bound copy of Shakespeare’s Complete Works. The pages were well-worn and dog-eared. It appeared he’d read it until the pages were falling out since it didn’t look old enough for him to have acquired it this way. There were several veterinary books and journals with a few historical novels tucked into one corner. She was most surprised to see an entire shelf of children’s books.

  She slid out a copy of How the Grinch Stole Christmas! and opened the cover. An old photograph slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Alyssa set the book on the end of the bed and reached for the picture, turning it over to see a man and woman standing in front of a lovely log cabin home with a little boy and girl on each side of them and a smiling baby girl in the woman’s arms. There was no mistaking the dimple in the little boy’s cheek. It was Justin, no more than nine or ten years old, standing next to his father, a gap-toothed grin beaming at the camera.

  Looking around the room, Alyssa realized there were no other photos anywhere. Justin either wasn’t a sentimental man or he was hiding it. She guessed it was the latter. The baby kicked just below her ribs and she jumped, instinctively reaching a hand for her stomach and rubbing the spot absently as she looked at the picture again. She’d grown up with a life like this—simple, easy, happy. She’d thought that was what she would share with Elijah. That was what he’d promised her. But he was a great actor, better than she was. He’d convinced everyone that he was attentive when, in reality, he was domineering and demanding.

  She looked down at the picture she held, wondering if she would be able to offer her child anything like this life now. She didn’t want to turn into a bitter Hollywood ex-wife, living off alimony and child support. She might be able to resurrect her acting career. At least that was a way to support herself and the baby, but it would force her to find someone else to help her raise her child. She couldn’t be on the set without other eyes to watch over him.

  She’d also have to find new representation. If he wasn’t representing her, Elijah would make sure she’d never work again. She’d seen what he’d done to people who crossed him over the years. Who knew what he might do to her now that he’d kicked her out? He could blackball her with every producer and director before the week was out if he wanted to.

  Tucking her bangs behind her ear, she looked at the picture again. Her fingers slid over the glossy print of Justin’s mother holding her child, a radiant smile on her face as she looked up at Justin’s father, the spitting image of his grown son. Justin’s father stared down at his wi
fe and child, pride clearly written on his face. They looked like a perfect family. For a moment, she could almost envision herself, holding her little boy with her husband beside her. She was happy, smiling broadly. In her imagination, no matter how hard she tried, the face of her husband was unclear. The only thing her mind could focus on was a wide smile with a dimple in one cheek. Alyssa slipped the picture back into the front of the book and put it back on the shelf.

  She squared her shoulders and turned away from the bookshelf. She would give her child everything she’d had growing up—stability, happiness, and love—even if she couldn’t quite picture how yet.

  JUSTIN ENTERED THE house through the back door. “Alyssa?”

  There was no answer. He looked around the kitchen at the gleaming counters. This couldn’t possibly be his house. He saw three cookbooks he didn’t even remember owning standing neatly beside a rack filled with spices. Where had that come from? It looked like the rack he’d hung in the hall closet for his gloves. Justin rushed to open the closet door and found everything inside tidy and in perfect order. Had Alyssa organized his closet? He headed toward the guest room, her room, pausing when he saw his weight machine along the way. The equipment gleamed brightly and the blinds had been opened, letting the crisp winter air in.

  What the hell?

  “Alyssa, you’re supposed to be—” The words died on his lips when he saw her.

  Alyssa was curled on her side on top of his mother’s quilt, one hand tenderly draped around her belly, as if she was already holding her child. His heart lurched a beat, slamming against his ribs painfully. This woman was absolutely gorgeous and, in sleep, the worry that had lined the corners of her eyes disappeared. Her dark lashes fanned over her cheeks, moving slightly as she dreamed. Unable to stay away, Justin found himself squatting at the side of the bed, brushing back the bangs that had fallen across her face. He tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his thumb brush against the satin skin of her jaw. Longing grabbed hold of him and sank its claws in.