Eleanor had told her the day before an old friend and her husband were in town and they had plans to meet up.
“Oh lovely. It’s always good to spend time with friends you haven’t seen for a while. It’s like picking up a book you love that you haven’t read in a long time. I’m glad you had a good evening, as well. Sophie seemed to have enjoyed herself.”
What about Nate? Had he said anything?
Jess frowned at herself. Good heavens. She wasn’t in junior high school. She didn’t need to ask his mother, of all people, if he had mentioned her.
“I’m glad my son offered to help you with your bike and the girls. He’s a good man. I might be a little biased, of course, but I don’t think so.”
Jess was beginning to agree. In fact, she was finding him very hard to resist.
Maybe she needed to try harder.
“Which room would you like to start on today?”
They had finished the family room/den area, Jack Whitaker’s office and several of the bedrooms. She would probably be able to wrap things up by Monday if they worked hard at it.
Usually at this stage in a job, she couldn’t wait to finish and was already excited about helping someone else. This time, she was trying hard not to drag her feet.
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to make up my mind about anything these days.”
The older woman looked pale in the morning light, Jess thought. Maybe she had had a few too many glasses of wine the night before. Or maybe she hadn’t slept well. Jess knew Eleanor suffered from insomnia, probably missing the husband she had slept beside every night for more than forty years.
“What would you suggest?” Eleanor asked.
“We still have a few more closets, the outdoor shed, the kitchen and your bedroom. Maybe we should start on Jack’s side of your closet.”
The two had a huge walk-in closet. So far, six months after Jack’s death, all of his clothing still hung neatly in his half, gathering dust.
A spasm of deep grief creased Eleanor’s features. “Not yet. I know I need to but...not yet. What about my craft room?” she suggested quickly. “I have projects in there from years ago and more material and yarn than I can ever use.”
Jess didn’t have the heart to push the matter. If Eleanor wasn’t ready to clear out her husband’s clothing, this last tangible link to the man she loved, Jess wouldn’t force her. Yes, that might mean she had to leave part of her job here at Whitaker House undone. So be it.
Like the ocean, grief had its own timetable, its own rhythm and flow.
“The craft room it is. I was thinking maybe we could donate some of the supplies you don’t want to the county women’s shelter.”
“Oh, what an excellent idea! Crafting and sewing can be so cathartic.”
It turned into truly a delightful morning. Energized by the idea of helping out the shelter, Eleanor was witty and full of stories.
After a few hours, she started to flag but pulled over her craft chair and continued helping Jess sort through the bins and boxes in the room while telling her about the amazing trip she and Jack had taken through Europe the year before his cancer diagnosis.
“He really said that to the shopkeeper in Paris?”
“She was so rude to him. Accusing him of shoplifting, just because her perfume bottles weren’t in perfect order! My husband was the most honest man you could ever meet. I wish you had been able to meet him. He would have simply adored you, just as the rest of us do.”
She smiled, touched at Eleanor’s open affection. The woman really was a dear. She would miss her so much when she left.
It wasn’t as if she might never see her again. Unlike most of her clients, Eleanor lived in a town where Jess had family ties. When she came back to visit Cody and Rachel, she could always stop here at Whitaker House and visit Eleanor.
It wouldn’t be the same as these long days they had enjoyed together since she came to town. Jess would be like Eleanor’s old friend from out of town, meeting up with her for dinner or lunch when she made it to town for one of the holidays or one of the children’s birthdays.
She tried not to let that realization sadden her.
They worked hard most of the morning and made a good start in the craft room. Jess was just about to suggest they take a break when she heard the kitchen door open.
“Hello?” a masculine voice called. Jess froze, her stomach doing idiotic backflips.
“Oh, that will be Nathaniel,” Eleanor said with a smile. “Did I tell you I texted him earlier to ask if he can help carry my old sewing machine table and all the extra bins of material for the shelter to your truck?”
“Um, no. You didn’t mention it.”
“I thought some of those things might be too heavy for you to handle on your own, my dear. I wish I could be more help, but it’s good I have a strong son to call upon.”
Jess swallowed back her protest. Her entire job consisted of lifting heavy things by herself. She had been doing this for years and was much stronger than she looked, plus she knew the value of a good hand truck and the ramp she kept in the back of her pickup truck. Still, Eleanor was the boss.
“Great.” Jess forced a smile. “I’m sure with Nate’s help, we can make short work of it.”
“We’re in the craft room, darling,” Eleanor called. A moment later, Nate poked his head through the doorway. He met her gaze first and for some ridiculous reason, Jess could feel her face heat. She had to hope neither he nor his mother noticed.
“How’s it going in here?”
“We’ve made so much progress,” Eleanor said cheerfully. “Well, Jess has made progress. I’m mostly sitting here like a lump and telling her what to do with things.”
“It looks great.”
“Thank you for coming over on your lunch hour. I know how busy you are,” Eleanor said. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you two load up Jess’s truck with the sewing machine and the boxes while I make us all lunch.”
Nate glanced at his watch. “I don’t have a lot of time, Mom. I have to get back to the library job. I’ve got three different subcontractors working there today.”
Jess again wanted to tell both Whitakers she didn’t really need help but that would sound churlish after he had made the time to drive home in the middle of the day.
“You have to eat,” his mother said. “I can have a club sandwich for you by the time you come back in.”
He looked resigned. “All right. Thanks. Where is the stuff we’re taking?”
“The sewing machine and everything stacked to the right of the hallway is going to the women’s shelter in Redding. Jess is driving it over today. They’re thrilled with the donation.”
“What a good idea.”
“Isn’t it?” His mother beamed. “I can’t claim credit. It was Jess’s idea. I never would have thought of it but it’s genius. If there are things they don’t want, they can sell it in their charity shop.”
“I’ll grab my hand truck. It shouldn’t take us long.” Jess hurried out to her pickup. By the time she returned, Nate was already on his way out of the house with his arms full of boxes.
“Am I loading them any particular way?”
“No. I’ll make two trips. Goodwill can wait until tomorrow.”
When he came back inside, she had just finished stacking boxes onto the hand truck.
“I can make another trip, if you want to go into the kitchen and visit with your mom.”
“No worries. You’re right, this won’t take long.”
It took them two more trips. He helped her stack the boxes in the back, return the hand truck and ramp, and close the tailgate, then they worked together to secure the whole thing with netting and bungee cords.
“This really is a lot of work for you. I guess I didn’t think about the logistics of clearing everything out. Culling out the extr
a stuff is one thing but you still have to find something to do with it.”
“Keep, donate, sell or bin. Those are the four options. I like this part of the job, actually. It’s tangible progress. Probably like you feel watching a structure being framed. One minute there’s nothing there, the next you have the bones of a house. In my case, the process is reversed in a way, clearing out the stuff to reveal those bones again.”
“How did the night go with the girls?” he asked, leaning against her truck.
“We survived. No bad dreams, no bed-wetting. The morning wasn’t terrific as we dealt with dog vomit but we survived that, too.”
“Any word from Rachel about how the appointment went?”
“I think they’re still there. It was supposed to last all day. I’m sure she’ll text me when she’s done.”
“I had a good time last night. It’s been a long time since I’ve had pizza in the park.”
She smiled. “The girls did, too. Ava was still talking about Sophie’s fun dad this morning.”
He laughed. “I don’t think Sophie would agree with that particular description right now.”
“Is she still mad at you for laying down the law yesterday about surfing by herself?”
He sighed. “She’s mad at me about something. I have no idea if it’s something in particular I’ve done or just general discontent that she has me for a father.”
“It’s probably just a phase. Teenage girls can sometimes be moody. I know. I was one.”
“I think this might be something more than that but she clams up whenever I try to ask. If she won’t tell me what’s wrong, though, I can’t fix it.”
“That must be tough.” Jess gave him a sympathetic look. Nate was the kind of man who had to fix things. Find the answers. Solve the puzzle. That was in his nature. She understood him because she was the same, yet one more thing they had in common.
“Raising a daughter is not for the faint of heart,” he said.
She had to smile at his heartfelt tone. “I’m sure when she’s ready, she’ll tell you what’s wrong.”
He didn’t answer and she lifted her gaze, not sure why. He was looking down at her with an intent expression that made her toes curl.
She had always thought that was a stupid turn of phrase in books but now she totally understood what people meant by it.
He was gazing at her mouth, she realized, and she suddenly knew he was remembering their kiss the day before.
“I think we need a do-over,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Yesterday wasn’t a real kiss.”
She blinked. “Funny. It felt quite real to me.”
“It was mouths only. Does that really count?”
Oh, it counted all right. She’d never had a kiss that counted more.
“I wasn’t aware we were keeping score.”
“You said that kiss yesterday morning should work this attraction out of our systems. I don’t know about you, but that certainly didn’t happen on my part. I think we need a do-over. One where I don’t have to worry about my damp wet suit making you cold.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Is that why you didn’t touch me?”
“Yes. And believe me, it wasn’t easy, especially when I wanted to press you up against the wall of your trailer.”
“Oh.”
It was as if he had sucked all the oxygen out of the entire area. She was suddenly aware of nothing but him.
He took a step forward and she swallowed hard. “I don’t think a mouths-only kiss was enough to get this out of our systems. I think we should try again when we can use hands.”
She ought to make some glib comment and go back inside with Eleanor, where she would be safe.
She couldn’t think of anything glib. She could only focus on the sudden aching hunger that seemed to have taken over all rational thought.
“That sounds fair.”
Her words were barely out when he was reaching for her and pulling her against him, his mouth fierce and urgent on hers.
She kissed him back, all thought of caution completely escaping her brain.
He was right. She hadn’t worked anything out of her system. Spending the evening with him and Sophie, seeing his sweetness to her nieces, had only increased her awareness of him.
The kiss the morning before had been delicious. This one, with her body pressed against his and his hands against her back and his hair beneath her fingers, was mind-bending.
She had spent more than twenty-four hours reminding herself of all the reasons why she couldn’t have a fling with him. After thirty seconds in his arms, she forgot all about those reasons.
What would be the harm? They were both unattached adults. He was a decent guy who cared about his family and was nice to kids.
She liked him very much and they certainly generated enough heat between them to burn down the surrounding forest.
Why not have a passionate affair for the remaining time she would be in Cape Sanctuary? That might be the only thing that would slake this all-consuming hunger.
It wouldn’t.
She didn’t know how she knew but something told her that even weeks or months or years wouldn’t be enough, when it came to Nate Whitaker.
She froze in his arms, reality splashing over her like a cold rain.
She didn’t want this kind of wild, frenzied desire that seemed to come out of nowhere. That she could feel this way toward a man she barely knew scared the hell out of her.
With great effort, she lowered her hands and managed to step away.
“I don’t know about you, but that should do it for me,” she said. It was a total lie and he had to know it. Her hands were trembling, for Pete’s sake.
“Should it?” His voice was raspy, his gaze stunned.
“This can’t go anywhere, Nate. You get that, right?”
He blew out a shaky-sounding breath. “Yeah. Of course. You’re leaving town shortly. I get it.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship. I like my life the way it is, where I’m free to pack up my trailer and move from place to place. I’m one of those people who is perfectly happy on my own.”
“An admirable quality.”
“It’s not that I’m some kind of loner or don’t like people. I do. I have friends. I just don’t...put down stakes.”
He studied her, his expression shuttered. “You don’t owe me explanations, Jess. No is sufficient, I promise.”
Most guys would have embraced the idea of a woman who didn’t want anything serious. She found it rather refreshing that Nate didn’t even try to persuade her he was that kind of guy.
“Okay. Thanks. I...hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”
He shrugged. “Why would it? You’re leaving soon. I think I can manage to rein in my rampaging lust for you until you’re gone.”
She had to admit, her toes curled again at the idea that this entirely too appealing man could use the words rampaging lust about her, even in that dry tone. She also wasn’t entirely sure she could do the same.
“We should go in,” she said. “Your mom will probably be wondering where we are.”
“I doubt that,” he muttered. “I have a fairly good idea she suspects exactly what we’re doing.”
That did complicate things. Did Eleanor suspect her attraction to Nate? Oh, Jess hoped not. She wouldn’t really be surprised, though. He was right. His mother was sharp and seemed to know everything that went on with those she cared about.
She sincerely liked the other woman and didn’t want to dash any hopes she might have regarding Jess and her son.
“You go ahead. I, uh, need a minute.”
She was confused for only a second, then could feel her face heat. He was obviously still aroused from their kiss, as she was, but it was much harder for a
guy to conceal that, especially when he was walking into his mother’s kitchen.
“Okay. I’ll see you inside.”
She hurried away, fighting with everything she had not to rush right back into his arms.
19
Nate
Nate watched Jess walk into the house with her brisk, ground-covering gait he found so compelling.
Face it. He found everything about her compelling.
He took a deep breath of air scented with coastal pine and sand and salt water, willing his arousal to subside.
He felt like a damn teenage boy, so turned on by a kiss that he couldn’t seem to think about anything else but chasing after Jess, pressing her against the nearest surface and kissing her again until she changed her mind.
He wouldn’t, of course. But he wanted to.
He still wasn’t sure how he had found the strength of will to let her walk away.
He couldn’t remember a woman ever having this effect on him. What was it that drew him to her so fiercely?
He couldn’t quite put a finger on it but thought it might have something to do with the complex mix of vulnerability and bravado he sensed in her, that hint that she had experienced deep pain but was doing her best not to let it define her.
It didn’t matter. She was right. He might be wildly attracted to her but nothing could come of it.
He hadn’t lived like a monk since Michelle died. He dated here and there. Not often and nothing serious. At first, he had been too busy surviving with a young daughter and trying to build his construction business to even have time to date.
About five years earlier, he had gone through a time when he had started thinking about remarrying. He’d had two semiserious relationships. One woman had ended up not getting along with Sophie—her fault totally, not Sophie’s, who had adored her—and the other, for some weird reason, had resented his close relationship with his parents.
After those disasters, Nate had decided he would wait until Sophie was eighteen before he considered another serious relationship.
Jess was the kind of woman who tempted a man to forget all his best intentions. Her tough exterior fascinated him, especially as he suspected it was only a crackly veneer around a softness she didn’t want people to see.
The Path to Sunshine Cove Page 16
