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Seeking Shelter

Page 12

by Angel Smits


  “This for Amy’s kitchen?” Gavin indicated the pile of two-by-fours.

  “Yeah.” Considering they were at her back door, the answer seemed obvious. “Just started the framing.”

  “You know, there are plenty of men already here who can help her. We don’t need a stranger interfering.”

  Jace picked up the circular saw and hit the switch, listening to the high-pitched whine. He resisted the urge to grin maniacally at Gavin. Stupid horror movies.

  He did, however, look over at him once he’d cut the board. “And yet her kitchen’s been waiting how long to be fixed?” He revved the tiny engine again and bent to cut the next board, ignoring Gavin.

  “Hello, Gavin.” Amy stepped out into the yard. “Back so soon? Did you need something?”

  “Morning.” The lawman’s hard steps seemed overly loud on the wood decking as he walked toward her.

  “Not too busy?” He tilted his head toward the store.

  “No. But it’s still early.”

  “Seems like you’d be busy in the morning, what with that fancy coffee bar and all.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt and paced back toward the alley. Maybe he was leaving. No such luck. He scooted over beside Amy. Jace’s fist tightened around the saw but he kept his mouth shut.

  Now what was Gavin going to say to her? She hadn’t been there when the punches and insults were flying at the bar the other night. She’d missed every filthy word that came out of the man’s mouth. The tension in the store yesterday had been thick, but had the audience stopped him?

  Jace saw her flinch.

  Surely Gavin knew how fast word spread in this town. Even Jace knew that, and he wasn’t from around here. Had the sheriff been spying on them? Was he threatening her? Jace put the saw down, ready to jump in if necessary.

  Gavin glared at Amy and Jace saw something in the man’s eyes that sent a shiver up his spine.

  “You better pay attention.” The lawman leaned close to her and whispered, though the sound carried in the quiet morning air. “You, of all people, need to watch who you associate with. You haven’t always made the best decisions.”

  He saw Amy cringe, then defiantly lift her chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Gavin chuckled, but it was an odd sound. “Just stating the obvious. Not too many other single moms around, if you haven’t noticed.”

  Jace stepped forward, getting between the two of them and crowding the shorter man. “Unless you have business here or need help finding something in the store, Gavin, maybe you’d better get back to work.”

  The sheriff laughed as he took a couple of steps back. “No sense getting your feathers in a ruffle.” He headed toward the alley. “I’m just down the street, you know.” He thumbed the brim of his hat. “When you need help, I hope I’m in the office for you.”

  Amy didn’t say anything else, simply let him go, her hands fisted at her sides.

  Once the lawman’s footsteps had faded away, Jace turned around to face her. “That one’s trouble.”

  “Gavin?” She scoffed at the warning. “I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s always been a bully. He’s just a lot of hot air.”

  She took several deep breaths, but Jace knew she wasn’t as calm as she wanted him to think.

  Something was up with that guy, but Jace didn’t know him well enough to tell what. Nor would he be here long enough to make a difference.

  “Thanks for stepping in, but I can handle Gavin,” Jace said, just as she reached for the screen door. She froze then slowly turned around.

  “Like you did the other night?” Amy stepped away from the door. “And for the record, I know you can. But Gavin isn’t your problem.”

  Jace cut through the next board with a swift swipe, the end piece falling to the deck with a loud thump. “Does he know that?” He picked up the cut piece and headed to the screen door. “You said the other night that he didn’t approve of you. Why? He can’t be old-fashioned enough to think being a single mom makes you a bad person.”

  “I know.” She didn’t sound convinced. “He grew up in a single-parent home. Not a good one. But you’d think he’d understand,” she murmured, and Jace saw her struggle to keep her chin high.

  She held on to her pride and he admired her for giving the guy the benefit of the doubt, though he hated that she had to do it. “That’s nuts.”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  * * *

  FOR THREE DAYS Amy had been good. She’d forced herself to trust Jace. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she crept down the stairs, hoping to just peek at the kitchen. The new cabinets were being delivered this afternoon, and she was more than curious.

  Jace had put up plastic to keep as much of the dust out of the rest of the apartment and the store as possible. Right now, it was pulled back. She’d heard him carrying supplies in for the past hour.

  She hadn’t used the kitchen in the last few days, which wasn’t that much of a change. She stopped two steps from the bottom, and could only stare.

  Jace had taken off his shirt. His broad, tanned back was to her as he hammered. She saw the muscles there and in his shoulders bunch and release. His skin rippled in rhythm with his every move. Her mouth went dry and the air stopped moving in and out of her lungs.

  She hadn’t felt this way in...she refused to think about the last time her hormones had been this revved up. Once, and only once, had she let herself lose control. She’d trusted Matt, wanted the relationship he promised—until she’d said no and he’d ignored her. Look where that had gotten her.

  Before Jace could notice her, or she could reach out and touch all that glorious skin, she started up the stairs.

  “Did you need something?” he asked.

  Damn. She turned around again, swallowing the heat that had lodged in her throat. “No. I was, uh, just coming down to check on the progress. But you’re busy. I’ll come back later.” Preferably after he put his shirt back on....

  Jace stepped over to the staircase, silently challenging her to stand her ground. The glint in his eye told her he knew exactly her dilemma.

  “I’m not busy. Not now.” He leaned his forearm on the handrail, bringing his naked upper body way too close. She could feel the warmth of him reaching out to her, engulfing her.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and she wasn’t sure she could speak. “I...”

  Oh, for God’s sake, what was wrong with her? This was her house. He was simply working on her kitchen. She should just move him aside and barge past, and she almost did...until her palm met his solid chest.

  She froze, staring at her hand, so small against his broad muscles. Slowly, she lifted her eyes and met his gaze. The heat there didn’t simply warm her, though. It threatened to melt her into a puddle on the stairs. She tried to pull her hand back, but suddenly he was holding it tight.

  She should struggle. She should scream at him. She should be scared to death.

  But she wasn’t. Why not? She could barely think, much less answer her own inane question.

  “I’m wondering,” he whispered. “Should I let you go?”

  No. “Uh...yes.”

  And he did, causing her to stumble. She caught herself with a hand on the rail at the same time that both his hands closed around her waist.

  “Come on,” he said, guiding her down the stairs. “Let’s get you out of harm’s way. Last thing I need is for Gavin to arrest me because you fell down the stairs.”

  “No, that wouldn’t be good.”

  For a tension-filled minute Jace stood there, in her space, exuding that masculine heat. And then he stepped away and started to pick up the tools he’d scattered around the place. He found his shirt and pulled it on, not bothering to button it, but still covering up all those muscles.

  Tha
t was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? So why did she feel so disappointed?

  He turned his head, and the smile that spread across his face did a number on her heart. “What do you think?” His voice was a rough bass.

  She tore her gaze away from him and focused on looking around the kitchen.

  The wall was up. He’d put down a new linoleum floor and she knew that later Rick planned to come over to help finish moving the appliances out of the hallway. “It’s getting there. I think.”

  The only thing that seemed the same was the sink. She walked over to it as much to get away from Jace and his temptation as check it out.

  “I’m not changing any of the plumbing,” he explained. “Though I do want to get a new faucet.”

  “What’s wrong with this one?” Amy pushed on it. Icy water splashed over her and she screeched in shock. Her thin T-shirt soaked through and became plastered to her skin.

  Jace moved quickly, hunkering down under the sink to shut off the water. “Damn. I thought that was tight. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s cold.” She pulled the clingy T-shirt away from her skin, but not before he took in the damp fabric and all that it clung to. She half expected the shirt to start steaming as a flush spread through her.

  His eyes met hers and she felt her nipples bead. Without a word, she turned and hurried out of the room, almost wishing he was the kind of man who would follow her and act on the thoughts she knew were in his mind. But he wasn’t. And she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d respond.

  Was she?

  Reaching her room, she yanked off the shirt and sodden bra and tossed them into a heap in the corner.

  “Amy—”

  She quickly covered herself with her arms.

  Their eyes met again. This time there was nowhere for her to run. His gaze never left hers as he stood there in the open doorway.

  And then he approached, his chest rising and falling with each step until his body heat caressed her bare skin.

  “You are...” He finally looked down, drinking her in. “...beautiful.” He reached out, sifting his fingers through her hair and settling his palm against the nape of her neck. The gentleness of his touch encouraged her to lean toward him.

  He kissed her. His lips were firm and yet soft. Then he stepped closer.

  Amy couldn’t think. She let herself feel for the first time in a very, very long time. The silkiness of his long hair against her fingers, and his chest pressing into her breasts, made her knees weak.

  Suddenly, cool air washed over her and she opened her eyes. When had she closed them? Jace stood several feet away. When had he moved?

  His gaze, which had been so hot, so intense, was now distant and cool. What had she done?

  She opened her mouth to speak, but before a word came out, he spun on his heel. This time he was the one who ran.

  Amy hurried to the closet and grabbed her thickest, heaviest sweatshirt. She shivered, but it wasn’t all from the cold.

  She heard the back door slam. Dressed again, she was halfway up the stairs before she registered the sounds coming from the kitchen. He’d gone out and come back in? She halted on the same step she’d stopped on before. Jace was packing up all his tools.

  “What are you doing?” She was too shocked to be embarrassed by what had happened.

  He stilled, staring at the screwdriver in his hand as if just realizing it was there. He didn’t look up the way she expected him to.

  “I may not be the most upstanding guy, but I don’t take advantage of women.” Something akin to guilt laced his voice.

  “I know that.”

  Jace briefly closed his eyes, then resumed cleaning up. When everything was in the toolbox, he came to face her. “Let me pass, Amy.”

  She put her hand on his arm, and felt his tension as his hands clenched. “Don’t go,” she whispered.

  He paused but didn’t let go of the toolbox. Then he did look up and the pain in his eyes nearly staggered her. But she didn’t take her hand from his arm.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he whispered.

  “Don’t I?” She moved her hand gently up his arm. “I’ve had a child. I know what it’s like to be with a man.”

  “Not a man like me.”

  “And what kind of man is that?”

  His eyes narrowed to a glare. “You said it yourself. A man who leaves his family and ends up on the streets isn’t a good man.”

  “I didn’t mean you when I said that.”

  “Maybe not, but it applies. I was sixteen when I ran away from home. I never saw my mother again.”

  Was he being honest or was he trying to push Amy away? Jace was most certainly a good man. He’d shown that in his every action since arriving. Why didn’t he believe in himself? Her heart pounded. She wanted, needed him to understand that she didn’t think badly of him. Just the opposite. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was afraid of herself. Afraid of what she’d already begun to feel for him. Caryn was right; Amy was attracted to him. And that attraction increased every time she saw him, touched him, kissed him.

  Jace was so different from the other men in her life. She liked that.

  He was tall, but up on the step she was eye to eye with him. When she felt his warm hands on her waist, she thought he planned to move her out of his way as he had before. But instead, he lifted her off her feet.

  Looking down at him, she found her hair falling around both their faces, creating their own little world. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jace eased her down his body, and the thick sweatshirt she’d donned as protection scooted up.

  Inch by inch, her belly, her ribs, the underside of her breasts felt his hot flesh. Her lips tasted his and she was lost.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “AMY?” HANK CALLED from somewhere in the distance. His footsteps registered overhead as he moved across the store toward the stairs.

  Amy tore away from Jace’s embrace, her breath frozen. She shoved her tangled hair out of her eyes to stare up at him. He looked as disoriented as she felt.

  “Damn.” Shaking her head, she moved up the stairs. Even though Hank’s footsteps were close, she paused and looked back at Jace. He’d turned away, his arms braced against the counter.

  She hustled on up before Hank got the bright idea to come down and see why she wasn’t answering. “I’m right here,” she called, hoping that would stop him.

  The old man stood at the top, leaning on his cane. His left eyebrow lifted questioningly. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” She tried to calm her breathing. “Why?”

  “Well, you’re downstairs in the middle of the workday, and you’re out of breath.”

  She scowled at him and headed toward the front of the store. “Jace asked me to double-check the, uh...the cabinet plans. They look great, by the way. And I just ran up the stairs....” She was babbling, but couldn’t help herself.

  Hank didn’t say a thing, though she could see he wanted to. He simply shook his head and followed her. “I came to pick up those steaks I ordered.” He stopped in front of the deli case. “If they’re ready.”

  “They’re ready.” She didn’t like the question in his eyes. Her cheeks warmed. She knew exactly what he was thinking. And even though it was probably accurate, it was none of his business.

  She finished wrapping up the steaks and sighed. She lived under a freakin’ microscope. Katie eavesdropped on everything she and Jace discussed, Gavin stared down his legal nose at her, Hank and Rick kept trying to watch out for her, while Caryn encouraged her to take a risk....

  Amy couldn’t win. She just couldn’t win.

  “And I brought this.” Hank laid a manila folder on the counter. She frowned as he flipped it open. A check from the estate account rested on top of a copy of the tax papers. S
he’d completely forgotten about it, which wasn’t unusual. She shut the ranch out of her life as much as possible.

  “Oh, thanks.” Guilt at her earlier thoughts made her cringe. He meant well.

  “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Hank said softly, with a glance over his shoulder.

  “What? I... I don’t know what you mean.” Even she heard the lie in her voice. Hank actually chuckled and she gave up trying to pretend. “I thought you liked him.”

  Hank shrugged. “I do, but I’ve been wrong before.” He looked her in the eye. “What I think won’t make a bit of difference if he hurts you.”

  Amy’s cheeks warmed. She did not want to know what Hank was thinking. “I’m not talking to you about this, Hank. It’s just—crazy.” She threw up her hands. “I’ll put that on your tab.”

  She pulled out the ledger book and made the notations on Hank’s account. He didn’t say anything more, simply picked up the meat and headed out the door.

  Amy leaned back against the wall. She thought about banging her head against it a few dozen times.

  It was just a kiss, she told herself. A simple kiss, albeit hotter than hell. It didn’t mean anything. Really. It didn’t. She closed her eyes. Who was she trying to fool?

  It meant a lot, at least to her. But to Jace? That was the problem. She didn’t know what he thought, or felt.

  Besides, she had a daughter to think of, and getting involved with a man who was just passing through town was downright stupid. But... She opened her eyes and looked back toward the stairs, hearing Jace moving around, making final touches on her brand-new kitchen.

  She knew all too well where mislaid trust could get her. And if she didn’t remember, those papers Hank had brought were a potent reminder.

  But she didn’t want to end up like Hank. Or Caryn...or her mother. Amy didn’t want to be alone. She wanted what she’d always wanted. A home. A family. To be loved.

  And Jace Holmes wasn’t the kind of guy to make anyone think of hearts and flowers. He was a drifter who rode a Harley.

 

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