Out of Eden

by Beth Ciotta

  Change is exciting. Change is good.

  “Right.”

  Minutes later, dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved cream tee and orange high-top sneakers with hot pink laces, Kylie made an appointment with destiny, aka Petunia of Petunia’s Hairdoodles.

  OPERATING ON LITTLE SLEEP and no coffee, Jack worked a crick from his neck as he drove into town. He’d dressed quickly and split without breakfast, hesitant to wake his guests. He figured they needed the rest, even though it meant Maddie missing another day of kindergarten. Apparently, she’d skipped the day before, claiming a tummy ache. But when tucking her into Jack’s bed, Jessie had confessed that it wasn’t Maddie’s stomach that hurt, but her feelings. Kids were making fun of her, calling her names. This bothered Jack, but, damn, maybe the kid would fare better if Jessie focused on inner strength as opposed to outer beauty.

  Then again, what the hell did he know about kids.

  Except that they liked dogs.

  He’d contemplated leaving Shy at home, more time to bond with his niece, less irritation at the stationhouse. But Jessie had indicated she had plans today. Wherever she went, she’d take Maddie. Which would leave Shy alone. Shy who’d gotten into the trash that morning and eaten a paper towel laced with cookie crumbs.

  So, once again, the dog rode shotgun.

  This time Jack rolled down the window so Shy wouldn’t slobber on it while looking at the passing scenery. The grooming had resulted in less shedding, and the dry food had cured her stink. Things were looking up.

  Jack cranked the classic rock station, anticipated Kerri’s featured pastry and ticked off a mental to-do list. Ten minutes later, he turned on to Main Street. Traffic was moderate and flowing. No gridlock. No blaring horns. The sidewalks in NYC would have been teeming, even at this early hour. He noted three pedestrians—total. All was calm. Quiet. Routine. Kylie would hate it.

  As he neared McGraw’s Shoe Store, he looked for her motorcycle. Even though she’d closed the store for renovations, he imagined she’d show early in order to put in a full day. According to Ziffel, who’d heard it from Boone, who’d heard it from Stan, who’d heard it from Faye—Kylie and her lone hired hand were handling the bulk of the work, and Kylie wanted to reopen in time for the Apple Festival. They’d need to pull long hours to make her goal. But instead of a sleek silver motorcycle, he spied a beat-up blue pickup.

  Jack pulled to the opposite curb and watched as Travis Martin hefted a box of supplies from the bed of his Chevy, then let himself inside McGraw’s. Kylie must’ve entrusted the man with a key. Bad move, Tiger. Something about Martin bothered him. Just because he had a clean record—and Jack had checked—didn’t mean he was harmless.

  Jack sat tight, observed. Not that there was anything to see. Kylie or Travis, or both, had draped a black tarp over the front windows, concealing whatever changes they were making inside. Given Kylie’s gripe with the ordinary, Jack envisioned pink walls, zebra-cushioned seats and displays featuring impractical shoes. Or maybe practical shoes with a playful twist. Like her flowered work boots.

  He wondered if he should alert Spenser. Not because the store was in his name—Spenser had never cared about shoes—but because Kylie’s actions affected her mom and grandma, too. If she ran the business into the ground, they’d all suffer. On the other hand, who knew? Maybe she’d breathe new life into the old business.

  “Maybe I should wait and see how she fares with the HPS.”

  Shy barked.

  “Right.”

  Just then Kylie roared by and parked her bike behind the Chevy. The first thing he noticed, aside from her cute ass, was her modest clothing. Denim jacket, jeans. Nothing scandalous. Nothing whimsical. Although, wait, were those sneakers orange? Uncommon, but not as unique as the flowered combat boots. Had she already ditched the idea of stirring things up by dressing out of the ordinary?

  Too bad. The boots had been cute, but it was the short skirt he missed. And the boxers. They shouldn’t have been sexy, but they were. Mostly because he’d speculated on the panties beneath the boxers. Bikini? Thong? Or maybe there were no panties. Maybe she’d gone commando. He wondered if those thoughts had crossed Ziffel’s mind. Not that he was jealous—hell, no—just protective of his friend’s sister.

  As he watched her dismount the bike, his thoughts turned to another man. What if she’d decided to shake things up by fooling around with the hardware guy? Or maybe Martin sensed she was vulnerable and intended to seduce her. Not that it was Jack’s business.

  Damn.

  If he sat here any longer, he’d end up inside McGraw’s. “Under what pretense, jackass?”

  “Arrff!”

  “Right.” Better to move on. Put his Aspen in gear and drive directly to the station house. Instead, he opened his door and jerked a thumb at Shy. “Let’s roll.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  KYLIE WAS LOST IN THOUGHT as she pulled off her bike helmet and looped the chin strap over the handlebars. Even though the store would be closed for business, she’d planned a full day. First, she’d put in time with the renovations. Then she’d hit Petunia’s for her hair makeover. This afternoon she’d plead her case with the Historic Preservation Society. At some point today, she’d at least try to get in touch with Spenser. On the ride into town the thought occurred that not informing him about the renovations wasn’t so much daring as cowardly. If he balked, she’d just have to convince him that change was good. If she could convince the stuffy HPS, she could convince her adventurous brother.

  She recited her argument in her head for the umpteenth time. She gripped the doorknob of McGraw’s just as someone said her name. That someone was Jack. Drat, she thought as she turned to face the man of her dreams. She’d hoped to avoid running into him until after her meeting with the HPS. The man mucked up her concentration. Although, she hadn’t run into him. He’d sought her out—along with the dog that wasn’t his.

  Flashing back on their last confrontation, she hiked a brow. “Want to see my driver’s license?”

  “I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee.”

  Kylie’s heart fluttered, which was nuts. It’s not like he was asking her out for drinks and dinner. This was…she didn’t know what it was. She furrowed her brow. “You made that same offer yesterday.”

  “Is that a ‘no’?”

  “It’s a ‘why’.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  Her frown deepened. “What did I do now?”

  His lip twitched. “Nothing. As far as I know.” He sobered then. “It’s about my sister.”

  “Jessica Lynn?”

  “Her life’s in turmoil, and since we’ve been on the outs, I don’t know specifics.”

  “It’s not like she confides in me.” Kylie tried to wrap her mind around this unexpected conversation. “We don’t even run in the same circles.”

  “But you both live in Eden and this town feeds on gossip. I’m sure you’ve heard talk.”

  She’d heard talk, all right. Mostly about Jessica Lynn’s husband, Frank Cortez. It wasn’t pretty. “You won’t like it.”

  “Better than being in the dark.”

  He sounded so earnest, looked so sincere, and just the teensiest bit desperate. Never in a million years would she have expected Jack Reynolds—super-man, super-cop—to come to her for help. “Why me? You could ask Deputy Ziffel, or Boone or—”

  “Because I know you’ll keep whatever’s said between us private. Because if you needed help with Spenser, I’d have your back.”

  Well, dang. How was she supposed to say no to that? Especially since just yesterday she’d declared them friends. It’s just that this talk struck her as awfully intimate and she was trying very hard not to fall for Jack. Again. Lust was one thing. Love…she didn’t want to think about it.

  She covered her heart, a silly protective gesture. She glanced at the store, wishing Travis would stick his head out and call her inside, any excuse for a getaway.

  “Heard Travis Martin is a compe
tent, hard worker,” Jack said, as if reading her thoughts. “I’m sure he can do without you for a half hour.”

  Dang.

  “Kerri’s Confections is a short walk away.”

  “Not Kerri’s,” Kylie blurted. “First, no dogs allowed.” She glanced down at the mutt sitting quietly at Jack’s side. “Are you sure she’s not yours? She seems awfully attached.”

  “She attaches herself to whoever offers food and affection.”

  Meaning Jack must dote on her. Kylie smiled at that. “Second,” she said, keeping the conversation on track, “do you know how busy Kerri’s place is in the morning? How many ears would strain in our direction? If you don’t want Jessica Lynn to know we were talking about her, we should go somewhere private.” Just not too private. “Although I could use a cup of tea.” And a moment to gather my wits.

  She’d known Jack all her life, but she’d never had a private, serious discussion with him regarding family or anything else for that matter. Her birthday exchange didn’t count—she’d been drunk. Yesterday’s heated exchange in McGraw’s didn’t count—he’d been lecturing. Even the many-moons-ago, never-to-be-mentioned exchange didn’t count because they’d both been walking on eggshells.

  Nope. This was a first. It felt weird and important. He wanted her help and she didn’t want to let him down.

  “What about one of the park benches near City Hall?” Jack asked.

  The Appleseed Memorial. A beautified area maintained by the Garden Club. Not too private, but private enough on a weekday morning. Kylie nodded.

  “I’ll get the tea and coffee,” Jack said. “You take Shy. I’ll meet you both there in five.”

  Five minutes to gather her wits. Great.

  Not willing to waste a second, she reached into her backpack and snagged a peanut butter cookie from her snack pack. She broke off a piece and offered it to Shy.

  “The vet said not to feed her people food,” said Jack.

  “Do you want her to follow me or not?” But it wasn’t the cookie Shy seemed as fond of, as the attention Kylie paid her with a hug and a kind stroke. “She’s awfully sweet.”

  “Like you.”

  Kylie frowned into Shy’s fur. Jack thought she was sweet? If only he was privy to her erotic dreams. Cheeks burning, she straightened and headed for the park. “Come on, Shy!”

  Thank God, the dog followed.

  Thank God, Jack headed for Kerri’s.

  Four minutes to gather her wits.

  USING HIS SISTER AS AN excuse to steal time with Kylie had been spontaneous and inspired. Jack sincerely wanted insight into Jessie’s situation. And he honestly did believe he could count on Kylie to share what she’d heard without embellishing and keep their discussion on the QT. His sister wouldn’t appreciate his digging, but since she wasn’t forthcoming, he didn’t have a choice. He’d be damned if he’d sit by while she was in an emotional tailspin.

  Jack stepped up to the counter of Kerri’s Confections, and just like the day before, Kerri Waldo herself insisted on taking his order. She was young, pretty, flirtatious and the Goddess of Baked Goods. Normally, he would’ve considered asking her out, but he was preoccupied with three other women just now—one of them waiting a mere block away.

  “Are these for you and Deputy Ziffel?” Kerri asked sweetly as she bagged the beverages and pastries. Even though she was an East Coast transplant, she played the small-town-where-everybody-knows-everyone’s-business game as if she were, what they called in Eden, a lifer.

  “No,” he said honestly. “I’m treating a friend to breakfast.” He swore the noise level dipped, sensed the café’s patrons leaning his way.

  “Anyone I know?” Kerri asked with a bright smile.

  Jack smiled back. “I’m sure you do. How much do I owe?” Kylie had been right. This place was a gossip mill. Amused, he paid up and said a congenial “good day” to Ms. Waldo and folks who toasted him with red-and-white-checkered coffee cups. As he left the café and crossed the street, he imagined everyone clamoring to the window to see where he was going. He rounded the corner, out of sight. He could almost hear their disappointed sighs. Although, now they could spin scenarios to their hearts’ content. He hadn’t escaped being the subject of gossip, but at least they wouldn’t overhear Kylie sharing news about his sister.

  Jack neared the Appleseed Memorial Park. It was small—a few oaks, an apple tree, a fountain, a statue of Johnny Appleseed and a half-dozen beds of flowers—but it was scenic and quiet.

  Instead of sitting on a bench, Kylie was playing fetch with Shy. He watched as the needy mutt retrieved the stick and smiled when Kylie lavished attention on her. His ex-wife would never have risked getting dirty to play with a dog. In fact, most of the women he’d dated over the years had been obscenely focused on the shallow things in life. According to the marriage counselor, Jack gravitated toward these women because they were needy. Then he’d suggested they were safe because Jack didn’t want to connect with a woman on a deeper, more intelligent level. He’d listed the possible reasons and Jack had shot them down. But those reasons sporadically ran through Jack’s mind.

  “Breakfast is served,” he called.

  Kylie tossed the stick aside and settled on a bench. Shy circled, then curled on the grass next to her backpack. Probably smelled more cookies.

  Jack sat, unsure whether to be amused or insulted when Kylie scooted away. She crossed her legs, and he noted those orange chucks had vibrant pink laces. Cute, and more whimsical than he’d first thought. Smiling to himself, he opened the bag and offered her a cup of hot tea, a napkin and a cannoli.

  “Thanks.” Brow scrunched, she inspected the crispy, cream-filled shell. “What is it?”

  “Kerri’s pastry of the day.”

  “Yes, but what is it?”

  “You’ve never had a cannoli?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s an Italian pastry filled with sweet ricotta cheese and, typically, vanilla cream. This one’s filled with chocolate cream and topped with almonds and a cherry.”

  “Sounds interesting, but I already had breakfast.”

  Jack lifted a brow. “You can resist Kerri’s pastries?”

  She snorted. “Yeah, right. It’s just that I’m not hungry. Mind if I save it for later?”

  “Mind if I indulge? I got hooked on cannolis when I policed Little Italy. Never thought I’d get one here.” He sampled and groaned. “Unbelievable.”

  “That good, huh?” She pursed her lips. “All right. Maybe just a taste. Who says you have to be hungry to eat?”

  Jack watched as she bit into the cannoli, smiled when her eyes lit up. “Rivals anything from Little Italy,” he said. “Impressive, since Ms. Waldo isn’t even Italian.”

  “It’s amazing. The flavor. The texture. Light but rich. How does she do that?” Kylie asked as she took another bite.

  He couldn’t remember ever enjoying watching a woman eat, as if it were a sight to behold. Concerned with maintaining a svelte figure, Amanda had always nibbled at her meals. Jessie, too. Kylie didn’t nibble, she ate with gusto. Messy and sexy. “You have a little something…”

  “What?”

  “The corner of your mouth.”

  “Crumbs?”

  “Cream.”

  Her tongue darted to the left side of her mouth, a sexy maneuver made even sexier because it was innocent.

  Christ. “The other side.” He wanted to get it for her. With his tongue.

  She swiped at her mouth with her finger, then sucked off the cream. “This chocolate stuff is to die for. What is it? Mousse? Pudding? Yum.”

  Yum came to his mind, too, only he wasn’t thinking about the chocolate. Jack schooled his expression, shifted to hide his arousal and scrambled for a distraction. “About my sister…”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything you know about the decline of her marriage.”

  “You at least know that Frank left her for another woman, right?”

&
nbsp; “That I know.”

  “No warning. No apologies. No chance to work things out. Just up and left—his wife and kid. His home and job. Creep.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Kylie wrapped up the remainder of her treat and wiped her hands and mouth with a napkin.

  Shy popped up and licked crumbs from her pant leg.

  “You never liked Frank,” Kylie noted, while petting the dog’s head. “I always thought that was strange since everyone else in this town respected the guy. Charming, friendly and successful. A lawyer who fought hard for his clients. But knowing what I know now… You must have a heck of an intuition.”

  Jack sipped coffee and braced himself. “What do you know?”

  “I don’t know anything. Not for a fact. I’ve just heard things.” Kylie fidgeted. “I hate spreading gossip.”

  “I appreciate that. What did you hear?”

  She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Frank was unfaithful. Rumor has it he had multiple affairs and that they had been going on for years. He must have been slicker than a hog on ice, because nobody knew. Well, the women he cheated with knew, but they never said anything. Although, why would they? He was married. Some of them were married. The only reason it came out was because one of those women confided in Jessica Lynn after Frank took off. She said, “You’re better off,” then confessed she’d had an affair with Frank and that he’d burned her, too. That woman was one of Jessica Lynn’s snooty friends, by the way. Part of her Garden Club circle.”

  “That sucks.”

  “It gets worse,” Kylie said. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “Spill.”

  She sipped her tea, wet her lips. “Well, it was like this weird trickle-down effect. Jessica Lynn blew up at her friend.”

  “Understandable.”

  “At a country club event.”

  “Shit.”

  “I think the only reason Jessica Lynn was there to begin with was to distract herself from Frank’s desertion. But she wigged out and blasted the woman and a lot of people overheard. Next thing you know, a few other bitter, jilted women slipped up and basically said, “Frank screwed you, too?” Kylie blushed. “I’m guessing they meant both ways.”