“So what if you don’t—haven’t you heard of the Kama Sutra?” Chessie asked. “I checked—Meadowview Public Library has a copy. That, and The Joy of Sex.”
Good God, how did Chessie know these things? Lia sighed deeply, letting out tension with her breath. Her friend was right, in a way. It wasn’t her lack of experience getting in the way. It was her mind. But she could feel her body and her brain start to shut down. She’d had all she could take for one day.
“I’m not ready to talk to him tonight. Just knowing he’s interested is enough,” she admitted. “Do you mind if we go out the back? I don’t want any of them to know we overheard their conversation.”
Within seconds, the three friends had stolen their way out the back. As the girls walked her home down the cobbled streets to her second-story apartment, Lia thought about Gary’s hurtful words, the way Jack had stuck up for her, and Peter’s interest in asking her out.
A date to a dance could be a safe experience. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself dancing in Peter’s arms. Being held by him. Touched by him. The idea sent her tummy twisting with anxiety, but she couldn’t deny that mixed in with her fear was excitement.
She didn’t want to jump into the fire again without thinking things through, but she had to admit the idea of dating again sounded like the first big step. For the first time in a long time, she felt like the girl she’d been before she’d married Vance.
And she felt hope.
By the time Lia got to her front door, however, reality had settled in. She couldn’t kid herself. Thinking she might be ready to start dating again was one thing. Being ready to give a red-blooded man like Peter what he’d inevitably come to expect after a few dates was something completely different.
Sex.
No way was she ready. No freaking way. So was there really any point in dating a man unless she could honestly say she’d be ready when the dating turned into something more?
No, as nice as it had been to feel those little tingles of desire earlier, she was nowhere near ready to start a romantic relationship. She’d stick to what she was comfortable with for now. Friendship.
Friendship like the one she had with Jack, a man who she could always count on. A man who always made her feel safe. A man who wouldn’t push her to give more than she was ready to give.
But she couldn’t stay this way forever. At some point, she needed to break free.
Three days later, Lia looked around the communal area of the three-story Victorian home she’d been renovating for months. Even with the heavy cloud cover filtering the late autumn sun, the room seemed warm and welcoming. She flicked a switch to add more light to the room, but the overhead light didn’t turn on. Damn. Not another snag. Though she was eternally grateful for Jack’s generosity in helping her get Meadowview Sanctuary up and running, the renovations hadn’t been without a few problems.
“Jack?” she called out, staring intently at the overhead light. The last she’d seen, Jack had been upstairs, screwing in a wall sconce in one of the bedrooms. “Hey, you around?” she called again, louder this time.
“What’s up?”
She jumped, startled by the male voice coming from directly behind her. Heart slamming against her ribs, she turned. Jack was so close that she brushed against him, realizing shockingly that he was shirtless.
Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe, and she felt her belly quiver. But unlike other times when she’d accidentally touched a man, the uneasy feeling in her stomach wasn’t triggered by fear. Nope, this was the same arousal she’d experienced watching Jack and his friends at the Goldpan Pub yesterday.
Arousal!
Whoa—wait. She frowned. This was Jack. Her friend. Not Peter Leary or any of the other hot firefighters. But still…wow. Her psyche must be healing if her body was reacting to Jack, of all people.
He stared at her, perplexed, as she sucked in a deep breath. Okay, so there was no arguing with the fact that Jack was beyond hot. His thick brown hair, tinted with copper and always in need of a haircut, had a perpetual way of dropping into his eyes. His rich, cocoa brown eyes held flakes of gold and were surrounded by lashes so thick and long that they looked fake. She let her gaze drift down his form. With his wide chest, muscular arms and legs, and ripped six-pack abs, he was handsome and rugged in all the right ways.
Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, she chanted to herself.
She couldn’t help it—she looked. Beads of sweat mingled with a light dusting of hair on his chest… The weird quivering started all over again, this time running from her belly to her knees, which suddenly seemed to want to dump her on the floor. Heat swept over her body as if she were on fire. Good God, she had to get a grip.
She swallowed and forced her gaze back up to his face, then said, “Um…I thought you were still upstairs.”
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stared at her intently, his brow furrowing. “Are you all right?”
Quickly, she nodded. “I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out. Sit,” he said, gesturing to the sofa. “Catch your breath. Get that heart rate back down.” He reached out and gripped her elbow, tight.
Too tight.
Suddenly the warmth fled her body, only to be replaced by cold. Horrible, horrible cold. A vision of the past, of Vance grabbing her and throwing her out of the trailer and into a snow bank filled her mind.
The world went black. Her knees buckled.
“Christ, Lia!”
Through the darkness, she could hear Jack’s tight voice, full of anger and concern. Could feel his arms wrap around her as he picked her up. Could smell his woodsy cologne. Knew he’d placed her on the couch. But she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.
“It’s okay, Lia. You’re safe. It’s just me, Jack. I’m so sorry I touched you. Breathe, kiddo. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
She followed Jack’s instructions, focusing on her breath the way her psychologist had taught her. In, out. In, out.
Slowly, the blackness faded away. Her heart still trip-trip-tripped with a fast rhythm in her chest, but was no longer pounding away at her ribcage. She opened her eyes to see Jack hovering above her, his face haunted.
“You back?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice coming out on a whisper.
“Was it because I touched your elbow?”
Embarrassment flooded her, and her face went hot. Yeah, she got it. Abuse victims don’t heal overnight. She’d been in therapy long enough to know this. But Jesus—did she have to pass out when a friend touched her? And after two years of being abuse-free? If she couldn’t even be touched by Jack, how on earth would she ever be able to have a normal relationship with a man?
She struggled to sit upright. “I’m sorry I worried you. I’ll be fine. You can go now.”
Jack sat back on his heels. The frown he’d worn when she first saw him had replaced the expression of emotional pain. “Are you telling me to take off?”
“No, that’s not it. I don’t want you worrying about me, that’s all.”
“I’ve known you since you were eight. You’re my friend—I can’t help but to worry about you. Talk to me, Lia.”
God, why was her mind acting so damned stupid? When would the effect of Vance’s abuse ever end? Her therapist kept saying she was making progress and an end was in sight, but if there was one, Lia wasn’t seeing it. Even finding herself attracted to the firefighters wasn’t enough to convince her that her life would someday go back to normal. She stood on wobbly legs and thrust her chin out in determination. She couldn’t talk about this to Jack. Not now. Not ever.
“Are you done upstairs?” she asked, making her voice deliberately cold to hide the tremor.
Darkness edged into Jack’s eyes. “I take it I’m dismissed, then.” He stood, turned, stiffly walked out the door. The pound of his footsteps taking the stairs thudded through her head.
Damn. She�
�d pushed him away too hard this time. But what else could she do? She didn’t want anyone’s pity, not even Jack’s.
For the next several minutes, she tried to busy herself with finishing touches to one of the rooms in Meadowview Sanctuary, but couldn’t keep her thoughts—or her guilt—off Jack. He’d been wonderful, trying to comfort her after he’d accidentally frightened her, and she’d forced him away. She’d dismissed him, just like he’d said.
That wasn’t right.
She was just about to go find him to apologize when she heard him call her name. She turned in the direction of his voice to see him leaning against the doorframe, his shirt back on, arms crossed over his chest. Most men crossed their arms over their chest when they were annoyed. Or feeling self-protective.
But not Jack. He was deliberately showing her that he’d keep his hands away from her body. That she had nothing to fear from him. That with him, she was safe.
And dammit, she was. Safe with Jack, that is. Forcing herself to act, she stepped forward until only a few inches separated them. His breathing intensified, but he didn’t move, letting her direct their exchange. Slowly and deliberately, she placed her hand on his arm and held it there. No shaking knees. No nausea. No memories of Vance.
Maybe there was an end in sight, the way her therapist had promised.
“I’m headed out for the night, kiddo,” he said softly.
She swallowed. “I’m sorry about earlier. You just startled me.”
“No one’s ever going to hurt you again, Lia. You’re strong now. You won’t let anyone hurt you, and your community won’t let anyone hurt you. And no one will ever hurt you while I’m around. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. Her eyes widened as he bent toward her, his arms still folded over his chest, but she kept still.
Jack hovered over her for a moment, as if testing the very air around her for tension. Then, slowly, he moved closer, closed his eyes, and touched his forehead to hers. For a moment time hung suspended as Lia took in the sensation of Jack’s warm skin on her skin.
Then Jack broke the silence by pulling away from her, backing up suddenly, and saying, “See you later” in a gruff voice, then turning around to walk away and out the door.
Lia let out a sigh as he left, a strange combination of elation and disappointment settling in her chest. She hadn’t voluntarily touched a man in years without experiencing panic, and she’d let Jack touch his forehead to hers.
So what did that all mean? The sight of the hunky firefighters back in the pub had awakened her, nudging long dormant hopes—and even arousal—back to life. For the first time since high school, her sexuality had let itself be known. Her body had responded to male vitality, to testosterone. That was all that mattered.
She’d spent the last two years following Vance’s death healing her heart, mind, and soul. Now, she was ready for a relationship.
No, she reminded herself. She was ready to want to have a relationship—a big difference from being ready to actually have one.
God, she wanted that. She wanted it so bad she could almost taste it. She wanted to prove to herself that Vance couldn’t ruin her life from the grave. She wanted to be able to go with Peter Leary to the Fireman’s Ball if he asked her.
But there was only one thing that stood between her and dating. Gary had been right in saying she was frigid. He just didn’t know how deeply her sexuality had been frozen, and certainly wouldn’t have a clue why. If she was going to be able to go to the Fireman’s Ball with Peter, if she wanted to have any sort of relationship with a man, she first had to solve her biggest problem—how she went to a dark place whenever a man touched her.
Which meant she had to learn to like being touched. To like being held. Oh, God—to like having sex.
But how? Apparently, mentally informing one’s body that it should want to be touched by a man wasn’t doing the trick. And yet she had touched Jack. And had even let him touch his forehead to hers. Sure, the touch had been minor and sweet, the way a good friend would give comfort, but for her, those were monster steps.
Apparently, she’d reached the point in her recovery where so long as she was prepared to touch or be touched, she could control her instinctive fear.
But dating and relationships provided their own obstacles to a controlled environment. She couldn’t just order a man when to touch her and when not to. So how the heck could she learn to enjoy holding a man’s hand? To dance with a man? To have a man’s hand stroke her body, to place his weight on her, his sweat pouring off his forehead as he slid into her?
And then the light bulb went off.
Jack.
Maybe Jack could be the answer to her dilemma. If Peter asked her to the Fireman’s Ball, she wouldn’t want to go unless she was already comfortable with being touched by a man—and not just touched, but intimately touched. Jack understood her fears and didn’t judge her. He was experienced and sensual. Her body responded to his, and she certainly didn’t find him unattractive—not in the least. He’d been willing to be a friend in a most unusual way once before, teaching her how to kiss at that dance they’d gone to, her freshman year in high school.
But would he go for the idea that was even now taking shape in her mind?
Because wow—this was one hell of a plan.
Jack leaned a hip against the granite counter in the kitchen of the house he’d designed and built himself, staring at Liz Pritchard, one of his friends since high school. He hadn’t invited her over, but when Liz made a rare appearance in Meadowview, she usually stopped by to check in. He’d been irritated when she’d shown up on his doorstop, minutes after he’d returned home from helping Lia with the renovations at Meadowview Sanctuary. A hot shower and a cold beer had been his agenda for the evening, not a friendly chat.
He wasn’t in the mood for friendly.
The fact that he’d freaked out Lia had him on edge. Angry with himself. Angry at the men—first, Lia’s abusive father, and then Vance, her abusive husband—who’d turned the once beautiful and radiant Lia Sawyer into a fragile, fearful mouse.
He motioned to the six-pack of beer on the counter. When she nodded, he snatched the bottle opener up and cracked two open, handing one to her. He wiped the condensation off his own beer bottle, wondering how long she planned to stay. As much as he usually enjoyed catching up with Liz, he had a cord of wood to stack and a mound of paperwork for his construction business to go through. Plus, he was on call as a volunteer for the fire department for the next twenty-four hours. Summers were when he saw more action as a firefighter, but even in winter he’d get called out occasionally when someone’s chimney went bust or a pile of burning leaves sent a spark onto a roof.
His other friends, Lia’s brother Ethan or Sadie’s brother Theo, or even his sister Chessie would have offered to help him stack the wood. Not Liz. She’d ruin her manicure. Didn’t matter that she was a high-maintenance woman, though—she was a kind and caring person who hadn’t been treated well by most of the citizens of Meadowview. He could certainly gather his patience and give Liz some of his attention.
“So what brings you by this time?” he asked.
She took a sip, waggling her eyebrows at him. “Bed, floor, or couch?” she asked. “Kitchen counter?”
He chuckled, allowing some of the day’s residual tension to ease out of his shoulders. One thing about Liz, she loved to tease. But he’d never take her up on her offer, and she’d never actually go forward with it, even if he did accept her proposition. Coming on to him was a long-standing joke between them, nothing more. Along with Ethan and Theo, he’d been there for her when no one else had been.
He cared about her, but he didn’t love her. She would have rejected love, anyway. Years ago she’d sworn she’d never do love, which made things easy for them to be friends. No complications. An easy friendship.
Not like with Lia. Now that was one helluva complicated friendship, given his true feelings for her.
His golden retriever, Rem
mie, hopped off the couch in the great room and came into the kitchen, shouldering his way between Liz and Jack, demanding attention and love in his tail-wagging, happy way. Glad for the distraction, Jack reached down to pet the dog.
“You going to tell me why you’re in town?” he asked.
“Doing the obligatory mother/daughter visit.” Liz rolled her eyes.
“Not easy?”
“Be glad you have a normal family.”
“Yep, because the Gibson family is so totally functional.”
Liz let out a light laugh at his sarcasm. “Lucky you. How’s your sister?”
He shrugged. “Chessie’s busy—working on her bath and body business. Sticking close to Meadowview. Not much has changed. She still hangs with Lia and Sadie, except that now Sadie’s moved back to town, Chessie gets out a bit more.”
“Does Sadie still hate me?”
A grin twitched at the side of his mouth. Sadie had been jealous of Liz forever, something Liz never let Sadie forget. In high school. Liz had dated Lia’s older brother Ethan, earning the wrath of Sadie, who’d had a schoolgirl crush on Ethan. “Probably not as much as before. She and Ethan got married.”
Liz’s brows arched upward. “Seriously? Never thought I’d see those two together. The dork and the sex god.” She took a long gulp of beer, staring at him over the rim of the bottle. She put the bottle down with a soft clunk. “How does Lia feel having her brother marry her best friend?”
“Lia…” His eyes swept shut. Oh God, Lia. An image of her delicate face, surrounded by long, black hair, charged full-force into his mind. How she’d fallen apart when he’d grabbed her elbow still hit him where it hurt. No one deserved the kind of pain she’d lived through.
Dragging in a few ragged breaths, he steadied himself. His eyelids felt heavy, but he pulled them open anyway. The world slowly swam back into focus. Liz stood before him, wearing a puzzled expression. Uh oh. What had he conveyed in that momentary flash of memory?
Trusting The One (Meadowview Heat 2; The Meadowview Series 2) Page 2
