Trusting The One (Meadowview Heat 2; The Meadowview Series 2)

by Rochelle French

  “Jack, you sap—you truly are a man in love.” Liz pulled him into an embrace.

  He wrapped his arms around her, returning her hug, and admitted, “Yeah, I am. And I’m totally screwed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Lia doesn’t love me back.”

  Liz faced him then, and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Just wait. She will.”

  * * *

  Lia stared, slack-jawed, at the scene in Jack’s kitchen. Goosebumps formed on her skin. Ten minutes earlier, she’d left the parking lot in town to head to Jack’s house, intent on telling him how profoundly appreciative she was of all he’d done for her and to apologize for dashing out of there so suddenly. Another car had been parked in Jack’s driveway, and she’d realized he had company. On the front porch, she’d seen movement through the kitchen window. Looking through the glass, she could see Jack, naked from the waist up, holding Liz Pritchard in his arms. Kissing her.

  Her stomach roiled and her chest squeezed as if she’d never be able to suck in a full breath again. Was Jack going out with Liz? Had he been all along? Or now that she’d finally been able to actually have sex, did he consider their arrangement over and had moved on to someone else? A million different feelings raced through her, a cacophony of emotions.

  Her body shook, triggering movement. This wasn’t the time to announce her presence. Nor was it the time to discuss with Jack if their lessons were over or to find out if he was seeing Liz now. All she had to do was ask, but did it matter? With careful steps, she backed away down the stairs and ran to her car at the end of the driveway. She fumbled with the key—it took two tries before the blasted thing slid into the ignition. She slammed the car into reverse and backed all the way down the steep driveway, not willing to take the time to do a three-point-turn.

  She wasn’t sure why she felt so disturbed—it wasn’t as if she and Jack had an actual relationship, after all. The sex lessons had been just that—lessons. And now they were complete, and they’d been successful. She’d slept with a man and she’d enjoyed it. It was over. Was she just upset that he’d chosen Liz, of all people? The woman had made Sadie’s life miserable when they were kids, so was Lia simply feeling protective of her friend?

  Although truthfully, she’d not minded Liz so much when they were younger. There’d been a raw vulnerability under the tough-girl façade. If Jack was dating Liz, Lia couldn’t hate her for that. But why did she feel so miserable? Why did she feel so…? She searched for the word, any word that could describe her current emotional state. Jealous? Used? Betrayed?

  Betrayed. Maybe that was it. Even though she and Jack weren’t in a relationship, what they’d just shared had been one of the most amazing and profound experiences of her life. Ever. How could he go from her arms to those of Liz in under an hour?

  The rational part of her brain reminded her that the kiss could have been innocent.

  The emotional part of her entire being didn’t care.

  Anger charged through her, dominating all other emotions. Fine. If their passion meant that little to him, then it could mean that little to her. Sex lessons with Jack were over. Now was the time to implement all she’d learned.

  Quickly, she pulled over on the side of the road, her tires crunching on earth heavy with frost as the car came off the asphalt and onto the forest floor. She swallowed hard, her instincts screaming at her to turn back around. To face Jack and tell him she didn’t want him going out with Liz. That she wanted the lessons to continue. But she couldn’t. She’d set out on this journey intent on becoming whole, to be able to go out on dates. To be touched. And yes, even to have sex without freaking out. Jack had agreed to participate in her plan. What he did now that it was over was his own business, and she needed to respect that.

  With shaking fingers, she furiously punched in numbers on her cell phone. After one ring, a distracted voice answered, stating she’d reached the Meadowview Fire Department.

  “Peter Leary, please,” she demanded. After a moment, she heard Peter’s smooth voice on the other end of the line. She gulped a huge breath. Now or never. This was the defining moment—the moment when she’d know for sure if Jack’s lessons had worked. And suddenly, the words came out. “Would you like to go to the Fireman’s Ball with me?”

  “You have us all worried,” Chessie said, a frown etching two lines across her forehead. She didn’t look at Lia, but instead stared upriver, her hands on the bridge railing, tracing patterns on the concrete as the Maidu River churned below. “Two weeks ago you said you had a little cold, but then you stayed holed up in your loft or at work. Sadie and I haven’t seen you at all—you wouldn’t have come out today if I didn’t weigh a billion pounds more than you and was able to manhandle you out to the car.”

  Lia leaned over the bridge railing and watched the water roil below. Two weeks before, snow had been forecast, but instead a series of near-freezing rainstorms had hit the foothills. The river had been inundated and was now swollen, the water a mucky brown except where white froth topped the charging waves and swirling eddies. How ironic that the river looked exactly like how she felt on the inside.

  Ever since the morning after she and Jack had made love—no, had sex—her tummy had felt like she’d been riding the Tilt-A-Whirl at the county fair. She’d stayed inside, either at her loft or at the Sanctuary, claiming she had a mild cold as an excuse but knowing inside she was hiding from Jack. From her friends, even.

  Maybe even from herself.

  Because Jack had tried to reach out, and she’d rebuffed him. He’d called, texted, stopped by work and her home. She hadn’t returned any of his calls, had managed to avoid his visits, and had only responded to one of his texts, stating simply:

  I’m okay with what happened. It’s time to move on.

  Because really, what else could she say?

  That her feelings had been hurt when she saw him kissing Liz? That even it if had been just a friendly kiss, seeing his lips on another woman’s had triggered something uncomfortable in her heart? That she didn’t understand her feelings where he was concerned? That she was scared of losing him—losing her friend?

  She’d tangled and wrestled with the myriad of thoughts that had barraged her ever since that morning she’d woken up next to Jack. She wasn’t ready. Maybe she was ready to date, to be kissed by a man, but she wasn’t ready to completely break down her emotional walls and let someone in.

  Dating someone like Peter Leary would be perfect. He was the equivalent of a male bimbo—there was no way she’d get emotionally attached and have to take down that brick barrier she’d built up around her heart and soul. She could chip away at the walls on her own, under her own timeline. But Jack? Jack was different. He cared. And she cared for him. If she continued being with him, she could see him taking a wrecking ball to the constructs around her heart and she’d be left open, raw, covered in dust and detritus and unable to breathe.

  And then where would that leave them? She couldn’t risk losing him. Not over this. Not over sex.

  No, better if she simply avoided him for a while. Her Grand Plan was over. A little distance between the two of them would keep the decade-old friendship intact.

  Although now his sister had dragged her out of her loft and to the river, not taking no for an answer. Lia knew Chessie was concerned—no, downright worried. And she knew she needed to put her friend’s mind at ease.

  “I’m okay,” she said, searching for a good excuse for why she’d been relatively incommunicado. Apparently, the whole “I’ve got a cold” thing hadn’t worked very well. “I’m just taking baby steps in coming out of my shell. I think I freaked myself out a bit a couple of weeks ago. I actually asked Peter to the Fireman’s Ball.” There—that wasn’t a lie. Asking Peter to the dance had freaked her out. So much, in fact, that she’d avoided him, too, when he texted to ask her out on a date before the dance.

  “I heard, actually. That’s when I started to get worried about you. I would have thought you’d t
ell me and Sadie you’d done something so brave.” Chessie turned to her then, frustration chasing away the worry on her face. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  Lia shrugged and ducked her chin. “I’m not sure. There’s a lot going on in my head that I can’t always share, so maybe that’s it.” She couldn’t tell her best friend that she’d been messing around with Chessie’s brother. That was between her and Jack. But she could let Chessie know how confused she was. Maybe Chessie could help her find clarity.

  “I’m glad you asked out Peter,” Chessie said. “And I’m sorry you got tweaky over it. Honestly, I can’t see you two being a couple, but if you’re just going to the dance, it should be fun.”

  Fun. Yeah, that’s what Lia had thought at first. Now, though? She let out a long sigh, the sound almost drowned out over the rushing river. “Have you ever felt something you weren’t ready to feel?” she asked.

  “Nope,” Chessie responded instantly. “I was so ready to fall in love when Arthur Dietrich came along during college. Didn’t hesitate for a moment. And whenever I’m attracted to a man, I let him know. No sense in waiting around to see if he notices me, hoping he’ll ask me out. As soon as I know what I want, I go for it.”

  “But what if you don’t know what you want?”

  The wind picked up, billowing Chessie’s patchwork quilt-patterned skirt out. She worked her skirt back under control and gave Lia a quizzical look. “I always know what I want. Don’t you?”

  “No.” Lia bit her lip and gripped the railing so tight she ground concrete under her fingertips. “I can’t figure anything out.”

  Chessie stood silent for a while, then said quietly, “Tap into your body and see how it feels. Your body doesn’t lie to you. If you’re attracted to someone, it will go all tingly. If you don’t want someone, you’ll feel icky inside. Or like, blagh. It’s easy.”

  Easy for earth-mama Chessie, maybe. She was the most grounded person Lia knew. Being in touch with her body had to be easy, but not for Lia. Not for someone who’d learned to live almost outside her body, behind tall walls made of brick and stone.

  “Close your eyes and imagine the last place you felt at peace. Then put Peter in the picture,” Chessie said. “See how your body feels.”

  With her eyes closed, the sounds of the river amplified. The rush, the roar, the occasional splash all filtered into her mind, where she realized the setting her mind had automatically chosen was the location where she and Jack had gone to find the bald eagles. But instead of Peter in her vision, Jack stood there, in his plaid shirt and faded Levis rolled up to the knees, the way he’d looked the day he’d taken her to the secret cove.

  “You see him?” Chessie asked in a near-whisper.

  Lia nodded.

  “What do you feel?”

  “Warm and cold at the same time. My stomach is twisting, like there are a thousand butterflies in there. And it seems like there’s something zipping up my chest—something that’s making me…God…happy.” Lia opened her eyes to see Chessie grinning at her.

  “I never thought Peter Leary would make you feel this way, but it looks like you got it good for him. I don’t think you need to freak out about the dance, Lia. Your body doesn’t lie. You like him. You want him. And from what you described, you might even be falling in love with him.”

  Oh, God. This was not good. Because those feelings in no way had been about Peter. The butterflies, the electrical zip in her chest, all the things Chessie was describing as love, had all been for Jack.

  The wrong man.

  * * *

  Flames poured out of the open windows in Sally’s Feed Sack, on the edge of Meadowview. Jack shouldered the wet hose, holding it steady as a stream of water came out of the hydrant and down the canvas tube. He wasn’t usually called out for fires in the town, but two of the hired firefighters, Marcus and Peter, were incapacitated by a sudden flu bug. That, or they’d played hooky to go skiing up in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

  Didn’t matter. He was grateful for the distraction and work the fire provided. After Lia had taken off the other morning, he hadn’t been able to clear his mind of her. And did he ever need to. Sneaking out in the dark hours of the morning he could understand—the intensity of what they’d shared could have freaked anyone out, much less someone with intimacy issues.

  But not returning his calls or texts? Not responding to emails? Avoiding him when he stopped by Meadowview Sanctuary, or even her loft?

  That was chicken shit.

  “Here, I’ll take over,” a male voice called from behind.

  Jack turned to see Peter sauntering up to him. What the fuck? The guy was supposed to be in bed or praying to the porcelain god, not walking around. At least he wasn’t riding the ski lift at Sugar Bowl, picking up on snow bunnies. “Thought you were sick,” Jack said, nodding to a spot on the hose where Peter could hold it to help the firefighter at the nozzle get a better angle.

  Peter shrugged, then grabbed the dripping canvas and held it steady. “Just some twenty-four hour thing. Felt better this morning and the chief said to take another day, but when I heard about this call, I thought I’d better come on out. Give a hand.”

  For several long minutes, they worked as a team, moving back and forth, from side to side, following the chief’s directions until no more flames and smoke came from the upper floor. One of the crew turned off the hydrant and they placed the empty hose on the ground, preparing it to be rolled back up.

  A loud crash came from the feed store, followed by a shout. Both Jack and Peter stood suddenly to trace the source of the noise.

  “Fuck,” Peter said, staring at the building, intense worry on his face. “Everyone accounted for?”

  Jack cast a quick glance around, counting the requisite number of helmeted heads and three bystanders. The owner and her two sons. “Yep. Entire crew is outside, and no one’s inside.”

  “Thank God.” The words had come out of Peter’s mouth quietly, almost reverently.

  As firefighters, they’d both seen their share of death—fire might be pretty to look at when dancing in a fireplace or on the tip of a candle, but once out of control, its devastation was horrific. Jack turned and walked away, headed to where several of the other firefighters were waiting. As he walked, he readjusted his opinion of Peter Leary. The junior firefighter might be a playboy, but he wasn’t an ass.

  Jack still didn’t want to see the man anywhere near Lia, though.

  God, Lia. He’d tried to connect with her after they’d slept together, but she’d shot him down, time after time. Hell, if she didn’t want him, that was one thing. But not even letting him know she was okay? The one text she’d sent said far too little. Fuck. He’d had to reach out to his sister to check in on her. And even then, all Chessie would say was that Lia was fine, blah blah blah, and then something about walls coming down—none of which made sense to Jack, except his sister seemed calm and unruffled.

  Then again, not much ruffled Chessie, but if something were wrong with Lia, his sister wouldn’t hesitate to tell him.

  In his pocket, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out to read a text from Liz: I’ll be in Meadowview soon. I need a date to the Fireman’s Ball. Be my arm candy?

  His chest tightened, and he hefted the weight of the cell in his hand, images of Lia pummeling his mind.

  “Hey, Gibson,” a voice called to him.

  He turned to see the chief headed his way. “Need something?” he asked the older man as he tucked his phone back in his pocket. He could text Liz later. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get Lia out of his head, though.

  “Heard it was going to snow. When we get back to the firehouse, can you double-check the chains for Engine Number Two? Leary said he’d packed them, but the guy’s a bit of a newbie.”

  “Will do.”

  As the chief walked away, Peter came up to him. “Did I hear the chief mention my name?”

  Shit. Peter wouldn’t want to hear the chief doubted his abilities, but Jack wasn’t about t
o lie. “He wants to make sure the chains are packed correctly on Engine Number Two. He doesn’t think you fucked up—just wants to cover his ass, I’m figuring.” There, that should salve the man’s ego.

  “Why the fuck did you tell me that?” Peter snapped.

  What the hell? “For the sake of disclosure, dickhead.”

  “For the sake of disclosure, then, I should tell you I’m taking Lia Sawyer to the Fireman’s Ball.”

  Jack saw red, but not from the fire—those flames had been put out. His hands balled into fists and his breathing grew rapid and shallow. “I told you to steer clear of that woman.”

  “And I told you that if she gave me some indication she wanted me, I’d be all over that. And she did. We had a conversation.” Peter added emphasis on the final word, punctuating it with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  “What, that discussion around ‘pie’ back at the fire station a few weeks ago? That was nothing.”

  Peter grinned. “Nope. Not that conversation. I’m talking about the one where she called me up, out of the blue, and asked me to be her date to the Fireman’s Ball. Guess I’m gonna get me some.”

  The son of a bitch. Suddenly, Jack realized Peter’s expression had changed from cocky to worried. Peter was no longer staring at Jack’s face but rather at his fist, which Jack had cocked and at the ready to smash into Peter’s face.

  “Uh, dude,” Peter said, nerves twisting his voice up high. “I heard you could go back to prison if you hit someone. Maybe want to put that thing away.” He backed up a few feet, his focus still on Jack’s fist.

  Hell. The shitass was right. It wasn’t just that Jack had done time for violence—it was that he could go back at any moment if he so much as slapped someone. He lowered his fist and imagined the babbling brook. Then saw Lia sitting on a log next to the brook. Somehow, her image calmed him more than the fucking imaginary creek.

  But she’d chosen Peter. She’d asked Jack for sex lessons and then had walked away. He cast his gaze back down to his hand, now at his side but still clenched in a fist. He’d searched his mind after she’d taken off, trying to understand why she kept avoiding him, but nothing made sense. He’d even wondered if his violent past had scared her off.