by Mae Nunn
“I knew who you were before I came into the restaurant yesterday,” Jesse said.
“I don’t understand.”
He dropped his hand to her shoulder. “I was trying to act cool because I didn’t want to scare you off, but I was eager to see you. I recognized you through the window. You were looking at my bike.”
“It’s a unique bike.”
“And that’s something else I should come clean about. I’m not the guy you think I am.”
“Jesse...”
“You’ve been quick to defend me, because it must seem as if I haven’t changed, but I have.”
There had been changes to the outside, like his shorter hair, and the other differences she had noticed, but nothing he could say would convince her that he wasn’t still her Jesse.
“I haven’t ridden that bike in almost eight years,” he said. “I got rid of it before I went out west. I traded it to a friend in exchange for his car.”
“Why...?”
“Harleys are great for making a statement, but not so great for making a trip across the country.”
“No, I mean why do you have it now?”
“I stopped by my friend’s place on my way here from the airport and he agreed to loan it back to me. Like I said, it makes a statement. I thought if I returned to town the same way I left, it would help me get over my past. That’s the main reason I came home. It’s why I’m taking the time to clean up the house myself before I leave. It wasn’t just to sell this farm. I hope to break its hold on me for good so I can get on with my life.”
Hearing him talk about leaving should have doused her feelings. It didn’t. It only made the urge to kiss him stronger. In another two weeks at the most, he would disappear again. Was she going to spend the rest of her life wondering what might have happened if only she’d had more courage? She placed her palms on his chest and swayed closer. “Are all your memories of this place bad ones, Jesse?” she asked.
“No, Brittany. Not my memories of you.”
They fell silent, their gazes locked on each other. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, and she never knew who moved first. What happened next seemed inevitable. She was already lifting herself up on her toes to reach him when he lowered his head.
Their lips met.
Her breath caught.
Her pulse skipped and launched into a sprint.
When her balance deserted her, it didn’t matter because her hands had somehow anchored themselves in Jesse’s T-shirt and his arms were locked around her back.
Yes, yes! This was better than she had dreamed. No fantasy could compare to the flood of pleasure from Jesse’s kiss. It was empowering. Exhilarating.
And it was as reckless as racing down a gravel hill on a bicycle.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AIR BRAKES HISSED as the truck from the scrap dealer backed to a stop. Jesse glanced out the window, then hit the key to send the invoice, turned off his laptop and walked out to the porch. Regardless of how many more business details needed his attention, there was no way he would miss seeing this. He had looked forward to shedding the weight of his father’s lifestyle for eight years.
The guys he’d hired worked smoothly and efficiently. One operated the crane on the back of the truck while the other looped the chains around the wrecks. By noon, they’d secured the first load to the truck bed and maneuvered it down the driveway. Though plenty of junk remained in the barn, apart from the lingering smells of rusty metal and diesel exhaust, the yard was clear.
So where was the satisfaction he’d expected to feel? Had the anger, the resentment and the shame dissipated? He still didn’t see his past in an entirely new way. He just saw a lawn that needed mowing, and a fence that needed painting.
Are all your memories of this place bad ones, Jesse?
Brittany’s voice stole into his thoughts, drawing out the ghost of a smile. She had a knack for making him view things from a different angle. She’d definitely left him with a good memory of the front parlor. He wasn’t certain how their kiss happened, because he tried all day to resist it. He should have told her the rest of the truth about himself first. Instead, he’d given in to...
To what? An urge? A passing fancy? She meant more to him than that. So did the kiss. Remembering it had kept him up most of the night. Across the field, her bedroom had been dark, but he sensed she was awake, too, maybe listening to the mosquitoes on the screen, and relishing the touch of the cool breeze on her hot skin, and thinking about him the way he was thinking about her.
A sharp buzz interrupted Jesse’s musings. He laughed softly and slipped his cell phone from his pocket. He’d only been home for three days and already he was reverting to a love-starved kid.
“Mr. Koostra?”
The man’s voice was familiar, but Jesse couldn’t place it. “Yes?”
“This is Constable Reid. We spoke yesterday concerning your father’s case.”
Right. Brittany’s cousin. “What can I do for you, officer?”
“Your father was released from prison this morning.”
It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. Jesse staggered, bracing his free hand against the side of the house. He fought to keep his voice level. “There must be some mistake. He wasn’t due to be released until November.”
“There were special circumstances.”
His gut clenched with concern. It was a reflex reaction, and it surprised him. “What happened? Is he sick? Is he in a hospital?”
“No. He’s headed your way. I’ll explain more later. We have units moving into place to secure the perimeter. Can we count on your cooperation?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE AFTERNOON DRAGGED ON. Nothing stirred in the yard except an occasional barn swallow swooping after a fly. When Jesse saw movement in the brush near the property line, he assumed it was one of the cops who were posted around the farm. He was wrong. The branches parted to reveal a petite woman with purple-streaked hair.
“Brittany!” He ran to meet her. “What are you doing here?”
That made twice in two days he’d asked the same question. Her reply was the same this time, too. “I was worried about you.”
He grasped her arms to steady her. Her face was damp and she was breathing hard. She must have run all the way across the field from the Barton place. “I’m fine,” he said. “Why—”
“Arty called me at work. He told me to stay in town. He said there was a police operation at your place, but he wouldn’t tell me any more, so I came to see for myself. What’s going on? Where are the cops?”
Jesse looped his arm over her shoulders and guided her to the house. Her cousin should have known better than to give Brittany orders. “They’re waiting for my father.” He handed her a bottle of water and filled her in on the morning’s developments while she drank. “You should have listened to your cousin,” he said.
“I’m glad I didn’t.” She finished the water, set the bottle aside and caught his hands. “Whatever happens, I want to be here for you, Jesse.”
They were such simple words. Other people probably heard them all the time, but this was a first for Jesse. He had no doubt Brittany meant what she said, too. Her gaze brimmed with concern. It moved him as deeply as her kiss, only on a different level. He squeezed her fingers. “You would be better off at your place.”
“You don’t think your father would hurt anyone, do you?”
“He had a temper, but he wasn’t violent. He didn’t hurt anyone during that robbery, either. Still, it’s been eight years.”
“Eight years? You mean you never visited him?”
He experienced an unfamiliar twinge of guilt. “The last time I saw him, he was being driven away in the back of a police car. I hadn’t planned to meet him now, either. The sale of the farm w
as supposed to close months before he got out. I should have been on the other side of the country before he set one foot outside the pen.”
She stretched to bring her face closer to his. “Now for sure I’m not going home. I’m staying right here.”
“Why?”
“I already told you. I don’t want you to be alone.” Her lips trembled. “I care about you, Jesse. I always have. To be honest, I...”
He put his finger against her lips. “Wait, Brittany. I need to be honest, too.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE FLUSH THAT Brittany’s run across the field had brought to her cheeks slowly faded. She pulled back. “You’re married, aren’t you? I should have known. You’re so gorgeous and sexy and I’m an idiot for not guessing—”
“I’m not married. Never even got close.”
She paused. “No?”
“No,” he said firmly. “There’s no one.”
“What’s wrong with the women out west? Are they blind? Not that I wish you were in a relationship, because that would make me feel even more of an idiot, but...” She waved her hand in front of her face in an erasing motion. “I’m babbling. I’ll stop now.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. He could think of a more enjoyable way to stop her words. “You think I’m sexy?”
“Do they not have mirrors in Calgary, either?” She made another erasing motion. “What did you want to tell me, Jesse?”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans to prevent himself from reaching for her. “You couldn’t know how good it makes me feel every time you show your faith in me, Brittany. You were the one person in this town who treated me as if I was worth something.”
“I know you, Jesse. I—”
“Please, I need to finish. You said you envied me, and you thought my motorcycle represented adventure and freedom. You ran off with a rock band because you were searching for some kind of idealized, romantic picture of what I had.”
She seemed about to speak, then pressed her lips together and nodded.
“I already told you I no longer own that Harley. What I didn’t tell you is that I’m about as exciting as a bank statement. I drive a sedan and wear a suit to work. I prefer classical music to rock. I pay my taxes on time every year. I’m no rebel, Brittany. I’m a salesman for a company that manufactures drill bits.”
Her teeth dug into her lower lip.
“You don’t need to come to my defense with the police, either. I don’t like them, but I have nothing to fear from them. I’m an upstanding, law-abiding citizen. So upstanding I’m downright boring.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. Her shoulders shook.
“I’m sorry if that disappoints you, but I felt you should know.”
“Oh, Jesse.” She dropped her hand, revealing her grin. It was laughter she had been suppressing, not distress. “The women out west might have problems with their vision, but there’s nothing wrong with mine. I already noticed your manicure. And the reading glasses, and the expensive watch and cologne. It was nice of you to explain, but you didn’t have to. I’ve loved you too long to stop now. Whatever you do, you’ll always be my Jesse.”
Love. She said love. To him. He couldn’t reply. He couldn’t even breathe.
Into the silence came the crunch of tires on gravel. Jesse glanced out the window just as a police car rolled into the yard.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THOUGH JESSE’S FATHER was sixty-two, his hair was still thick and free of gray, and he kept his back straight, his chin out and his shoulders squared as he walked. He was a large man, the same height as Jesse, and yet...somehow he looked smaller than he used to.
The police officers who had brought him home remained beside the patrol car. Emile climbed the steps to the porch where Jesse waited and dipped his chin in a curt nod. “Hello, Jesse.”
No handshake, and no hug, even after eight years, but Jesse hadn’t expected either one. Their family had never been big on touching. He crossed his arms. “Hello, Dad.”
“You been doing some clean-up in the yard.”
“Yes.”
“Hope you got a good price for the scrap.”
“Sure did. Congratulations on your early release.”
“Guess the cops told you I made a deal?”
“They said you agreed to show them where you left the money.”
“That’s why they let me out.”
“You only had three more months to serve. You could have waited and gotten the money on your own. Why make the deal now?”
“I heard you came home to sell the farm.”
“How’d you hear that?”
“Believe it or not, your sister told me right after you got her to sign the papers.”
That stunned him. Then again, he never knew what to expect from Annie. “Were you worried the new owners would get your stash?”
“No, I had to get out before you disappeared again.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want the money, son, I came to see you. That’s worth more than a few million to me.”
There had been no change in Emile’s expression, but his voice had roughened with emotion to the point it was almost unrecognizable.
The screen door squeaked open behind Jesse. A moment later, he felt Brittany move to his side. Without uttering a word, she slipped her arm around his waist. She was a head shorter than him and half his weight, but it wasn’t physical support that she offered. He draped his arm over her shoulders gratefully, his mind reeling.
“I can’t blame you for cutting me loose when I got arrested,” Emile continued. “You stuck it out with me years longer than your sister did. Your mother...you take after her. She had a good soul.” He coughed, then used his sleeve to wipe his eyes. “She hated my gambling, and I just didn’t see how bad it dragged me down until it was too late. I hit bottom when I pulled that heist. Just about went crazy after I heard they arrested you, too. But that was the kick in the butt I needed. I got help, Jesse. I went through a program they had at the pen. I’ve got a job lined up too, an honest job. I...” He sighed. “That’s why I had to see you. I want you to know I’m sorry.”
Jesse was unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He reached out his free hand to grasp his father’s shoulder.
Emile clamped his hand over Jesse’s to keep it in place. His gaze shifted to Brittany. “So, who’re you?”
“I’m Brittany Barton, Mr. Koostra. I live next door.”
“Barton?” Emile laughed suddenly and turned his head to yell at the police officers in the yard.
“You don’t need me. She can show you where the money is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
IT WAS AFTER midnight by the time the legendary Koostra loot was found. By then, television crews from three networks were parked at the foot of the Bartons’ driveway. Police vehicles crowded the yard. Under the glare of portable floodlights, Brittany’s cousin Arty tossed down his shovel as one of the Tyvek-suited crime scene specialists emerged from the hole that the cops had dug beneath the Bartons’ chicken coop. A dirt-streaked canvas sack was clutched triumphantly in his hand.
“I still can’t believe this,” Brittany muttered, slapping at a mosquito. She and Jesse stood near the big maple by the house, beyond the ring of light yet close enough to have a good view of the action. “All these years. Three and a half million dollars. Right under our noses.”
Jesse crossed his arms in front of her waist to pull her back against his chest. He’d been smiling so much, his cheeks ached. “I’d say ‘noses’ is the operative word.”
She laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Poor Arty. He never did like our chickens.”
“My father chose a good spot.”
“I’ll say. N
o one would expect to find a fortune here.”
“Well, you never know. Sometimes you go out searching for what you think you want only to find what you truly want along the way.”
“Mmm. That sounds familiar.”
“It should. That’s what you told me.” He rubbed his chin over her hair, marveling at how natural, how right, it felt to hold her like this. Marveling at how Fate worked. “I decided to cancel the sale of the farm.”
She inhaled sharply. A tremor went through her body. “You did? Why?”
“My father needs a place to live.”
“Oh. That’s great. He’ll appreciate it.”
“Yeah. I realized something today. I do care about him. I guess that’s why I stayed with him as long as I did.”
“I hope you give him a chance. He seems sincere about wanting to improve things between you.”
“We’ll get plenty of opportunity for that, since I’ll be living here, too.”
She twisted to face him. “You’re moving back home?”
“Not right away. I’ll need to sell my condo, and if I can’t get my job transferred to my company’s Toronto office, I’ll have to find a new one. It’s going to take more than lumber and paint to fix up that old house, but it’s got a great location, and terrific neighbors.”
Her back was to the floodlights so he couldn’t see her expression clearly, yet he did catch the gleam of her eyes. Beautiful, green eyes, that always made him feel strong, special, good...
Good enough to be loved.
And just like that, the weight of Jesse’s past crumbled and fell away. He placed his hands on Brittany’s cheeks, cradling her with the gentleness that a treasure like her deserved. “Remember the love and the not-being-alone stuff you talked about this afternoon?”
She nodded.
“I could get used to that.”
* * * * *
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