Bittersweet: Can she rebuild her life?

by Lyz Kelley

  “Both are at a sleepover. I don’t have anywhere to be.”

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall forward, battling the powerful attraction she experienced since the first time she’d seen him with Ellie, which was why she'd been rude and condescending, and then felt guilty for giving a guy doing the right thing for his niece a hard time.

  Oh, man. There couldn’t be anything sexier than a guy making a little girl happy. When his shoes intruded in the space she was staring down at to avoid meeting his eyes, she took a step back to study him.

  “Look, Deputy. You’re a nice guy. There are a dozen women in this town who might find you sexy. But—”

  “Don’t.” He moved closer and lifted her hand and massaged her fingers. “Don’t add a but.”

  His warm, callused hands, and the way he loved each one of her fingers, made her innards melt into a puddle of longing. She couldn’t do this again.

  She tugged her hand out of his grasp. “Deputy—”

  “Heath.”

  His voice was soft and low and sensual. Oh, crap. Plus, he smelled delicious, like a caramel latte with a touch of whipped cream. “Heath.” She swallowed the urge to lick his lips to see if he tasted as tempting as he smelled. “I’m going home to crawl in bed and sleep until the sun is up. I suggest you do the same.”

  “You sure you don’t want company?”

  Fear rippled across her skin. No. I don't want anyone, especially you, to see the scars and burn marks.

  Plus, she simply didn’t want to answer the questions she’d been trying hard to avoid.

  She straightened his jacket’s zipper and patted his chest. “Tempting offer, but I don’t do casual.”

  His eyes intensified with fiery interest. “Who said anything about casual?”

  Oh, not good. “Go home, Heath.”

  “Leza?” He took a step closer. “I’m getting a few mixed signals here. Your nipples are telling me you want to be kissed, but your mouth is telling me to go home. Which is it?”

  Her nipples were indeed giving him a come-hither signal. Other body parts were signaling I-wanna-dance, and tingling to be touched. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the underneath let’s-get-jiggy-with-it vibrations. She hadn’t been held in years.

  She rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired.”

  “Okay. I’ll drive you home.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m tired of going at life alone. Coming home to a special someone at the end of the day, sharing my life, sharing my problems…it all sounds truly perfect.” Deceivingly so.

  “It’s just that everyone I’ve ever loved has ended up dead.” She reached to touch his face, then lifted up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Trust me when I tell you I’m no good for you or anyone.” She let her hand slide down his face. “Although it would be nice to have a friend I can count on.”

  “A friend?” He took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “A person who returns your dog, or watches your niece, or hangs out to watch movies.” She shrugged. “An adult to talk to when I need advice.”

  “Friends?” He shrugged. “Sure. I can do that.”

  A snicker welled and caught in her throat as her eyes narrowed. “And, just how many women friends do you have that you haven’t slept with?”

  “One. You.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. Oh, she liked this man. She truly did.

  “And how many male friends do you have that you haven’t slept with?”

  “None, until you,” she said, with a touch of sadness. She had no friends, just colleagues, and sleeping with one of them wasn’t an option.

  “So this will be a new adventure for both of us.”

  She thrust out her hand. “To just friends.”

  He grasped her hand, and rotated her arm to draw an imaginary figure on her palm, then closed her fingers into a fist.

  “What did you draw?”

  “It’s an old Celtic symbol. The icon symbolizes peace, joy, mind, body, spirit, to name a few.” A small flicker of a smile curved his mouth. “You wanted to build a wellness center. It’s my way of sending good vibes, and the first step in working toward that friendly thing.”

  Damn it. Why did he have to be so sweet? “I guess you heard about the center I want to open. I forgot how small this town can be, and how quickly rumors fly.” But she didn’t mind. It was just the way folks around here cared about one another. “And what do you want?”

  “Me?” To be more than friends. He shrugged. “I want Ellie to grow up healthy and happy. I want to find a home, one I can afford. A Subaru STI would be nice, but not practical. That’s about it. I’m pretty simple.”

  “Well, friend,” she choked on the unfamiliar word, “I hope you receive those things and more.” She tugged keys out of her pocket. “I’d better go. I’m scheduled to help Mara and Karly at the animal shelter tomorrow, and both get there early. “

  He nodded. “And just for the record”—he pointed at the sheriff’s SUV—“when you see me following you home, remember I’m not trying to protect you or stalk you. I’m just your next-door neighbor.”

  Her exhaustion pumped out a giggle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Good night, Heath.”

  “Good night, gorgeous.” He winked his amusement.

  Freakin’ frosted fruitcakes. Her body sighed with lust.

  She was doomed.

  Chapter 8

  “Oh, hi, Ellie. I didn’t see you in here.” Leza peered over the top of the row of kennels with cats and fluffy beds on every open surface. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

  “I came for Gunther's adoption training class, but then Mara said the cat room volunteer couldn't come today. I don’t want them to be lonely, so I came to visit. How come you’re here?”

  “I came to help Mara and Karly get ready for adoption day. I was in with the dogs and didn’t see you come in.” Ellie’s sullen face made Leza pause. Leza ran her hand over the nearest tabby. The medium-haired cat closed her eyes and purred her appreciation. “I bet the cats are glad you’re taking the time to show them some love.”

  Ellie didn’t respond, only wiggled her fingers at a grumpy animal hovering toward the back of its cage, trying to attract his attention.

  “Ellie are you okay? You seem quiet today.”

  Her shoulders lifted, then dropped. “I feel sad for Truman.”

  Leza glanced at the oversized black and white male. “Why is that?”

  “No one will ever adopt him, and he’ll be here forever, all alone.” Ellie gripped the wires to the kennel tighter.

  “Someone will adopt him.”

  Ellie’s lower lipped quivered. “No they won’t” She dropped her hands to wind her shoestring around her finger.

  Oh, boy. Leza released a slow breath, then sat on the floor to better connect and understand what Ellie’s expression tried hard to convey but didn’t quite manage to express. “Why do you think he won’t be adopted?”

  She pointed at the kennel. “Look at him. He’s a fuzzy mess, only has one eye, and half his ear is missing. Plus, he’s got a big black splotch in the center of his head. He’s pretty ugly. People only like pretty stuff.”

  Leza dipped her head to observe the extra-large tomcat curled in the far back corner of his cage. His round eyes were wide and watchful. The hair along the ridge of his back fluffed in warning. He didn’t trust people. Distrust she understood. She didn’t trust a lot of people either, and for a good reason.

  Leza tapped Ellie's arm. “It’s not true, you know.”

  Ellie's expression grew serious, then softened into curious. “What’s not true?”

  “There are people, like me, who like a person better for what’s on the inside.”

  “Ewwww. Gross. You like blood and poop and stuff. That’s disgusting.”

  The scrunched-up disgust on Ellie’s face made her chuckle. “Not exactly. I’m talking about what you think and feel. You fe
el sorry for Gunther and Truman. All the animals. You care. That’s important.”

  “Well, then, that’s okay. I thought you liked farts. Heath’s farts are the worst. They smell like Mom’s compost bucket when she hasn’t taken it outside for awhile.” Ellie pinched her nose, then her expression went serious again. “You don’t think Heath will die, do you?”

  “Heath? We all die eventually. That’s part of life. Are you thinking your uncle is going to die like your mom?

  “Yes. Well, no. I went to my great-grandma’s house once, and they said she smelled like death warmed over. She died a week later.”

  A bubble of laughter rolled from her belly. Leza wrapped her arm around Ellie and leaned in to whisper. “I’ll let you in on a girl secret, but you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Ooookay.” Ellie stilled. Her breathing shallow.

  “Guys farts always stink. That’s why farts make them giggle.”

  Ellie’s expression bloomed, opening wider. “Heath laughs when Gunther farts.”

  “See? I’m telling you, guys love to fart and burp, because normal bodily functions make them laugh.”

  “Boys are silly.”

  The conviction in Ellie’s statement made the smile in Leza’s heart expand. “Yes, they are, but we end up liking them anyway.”

  Ellie took Leza’s hand and rubbed her fingers over the jagged edges of the chipped nail polish. “I think my uncle likes you.”

  Leza’s thoughts did a skid and a flop. “Of course he does. We’re friends.”

  “I think he wants to be more than friends. He watches you when you’re not looking. My mom liked a guy at work. She watched him a lot, and I saw them smoochy-face once.”

  Leza coughed and pounded her chest. “Something’s caught in my throat,” she fibbed. “Heath watches a lot of people. That’s his job. He makes sure people are doing what they are supposed to.”

  “I don’t think so. When Heath watches you, he gets this weird smile on his face. It’s the same smile he gets when he looks at those bunny magazines he keeps in the bottom of his closet.” She suddenly looked away. “Oops. I’m not supposed to know about those. Please don't tell Heath, okay?”

  Did she mean Playboy? She could only be talking about sex magazines. She stifled a laugh. She’d love to see Heath’s reaction when he found out his niece knew about his hidden stash, but she wouldn’t be the one to tell him.

  “I won't,” she said while working hard to keep a straight face. “How he looks at me doesn’t matter, because we are just friends.” And barely friends at that.

  “If you say so.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  Ellie pressed her fingers down one by one in a piano-playing motion. “I’m not supposed to disagree with adults.”

  Leza closed her hand around Ellie’s, hoping those sad eyes would look at her. “Look. I know I’m an adult, but it’s okay if you want to tell me what you’re thinking. I won’t mind. Ever. You can tell me anything.”

  Ellie bit her lip. “I think you like my uncle too, even though you won’t admit it. Mom liked her boyfriend, but she kept pushing him away.”

  Leza’s breath hitched in her throat. “Why do you think she did that?”

  “Because she didn’t want to get hurt.”

  Leza inhaled sharply. And people say kids don’t understand. While undercover, she’d discovered that kids might not be able to articulate what they noticed, but they picked up plenty, way more than adults gave them credit for.

  Leza ran her hand over Ellie’s beautiful blond hair, and then tucked her overgrown bangs behind her ear. “If you ever want to talk about your mom to anyone, I’m a pretty good listener.”

  Ellie’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to make you sad. Heath always gets sad when I talk about mom.”

  “That’s because, like you, he misses your mom. I didn’t know your mom, but I’d like to learn about her through your stories. When you’re ready, maybe you can tell me a story about her.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” Leza struggled to keep her body relaxed. “Maybe a trip you went on. Or your mom's favorite meal to cook. Or your favorite moment with her.”

  The dullness in those beautiful blue eyes disappeared, replaced with a spark of hope. Leza wasn’t sure if Ellie would take her up on the offer, but she hoped. And she would listen, because children desperately needed to be heard.

  Ellie traced the cat’s kennel wires before wrapping her fingers around the metal grid. “I still wish Truman could find a home.”

  “Tell you what,” Leza hesitated, because the poor animal seriously could win an ugly contest. He stared at her with his one golden eye, then, as if sending a silent plea, unfolded his front paw and stretched his leg, toes spread, toward her. The small gesture solidified her decision. “If Truman isn’t selected during adoption day, he can stay with me.”

  Ellie’s expression bloomed, and her mouth dropped open. “Really? Pinkie promise?”

  “I promise.” Leza thrust out her hand, pinkie held high, but instead she found herself rocking back as little arms flew around her shoulders.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Ellie sat back. “Truman’s the luckiest cat ever.”

  “I don’t know about that.” The intense golden eye watched her. “Cats pick their owners, not the other way around.”

  “He’ll love you. You’re nice. You’ll give him treats and a soft bed, and even let him sleep with you.”

  I doubt that. “I’m glad you think so.”

  Ellie pressed her face to the cage door. “Did you hear that, Truman? You’ll have a home, just like me. You won’t be abandoned.”

  Leza’s breath screeched to a halt.

  Abandoned? Oh, kid. You don’t know what truly abandoned is, and I hope you never do.

  The kids lured out of their homes by traffickers certainly felt society’s abandonment.

  Most kids, thankfully, didn’t know what losing a parent felt like. The day two planes hit the New York twin towers were permanently etched in her memory. She could still hear her mom screaming at the television, then reach for her phone, weeping while she frantically tried to send her dad a text message. He never responded.

  She figured out later that her dad died as soon as the first plane hit the building.

  There were days she stared at the phone, wishing she could talk to him.

  He always knew how to make her laugh. And he never tried to solve her problems…he just listened.

  She missed his silent strength.

  Empathy for Ellie doubled. The hole her mom left in her heart would never be filled.

  Some say time heals, but not that soul-crushing kind of hurt. The pain might dull, but it still lingers.

  Losing the center of your world forever tips a kid off-balance.

  She folded Ellie into her arms for a hug, and to her surprise, the young girl who understood too much didn’t resist. Like a favorite blanket, Ellie tucked herself around Leza and settled in.

  Minutes passed. Neither spoke. There was nothing to say that mattered.

  “El?” a masculine voice called.

  Ellie flailed and launched out of Leza's arms. The aching absence left Leza cold.

  “Over here,” Ellie waved.

  Leza pushed to her feet. A sensual prickle skittered up her spine.

  “Guess what. Guess what. GUESS WHAT!” Ellie clapped her hands. “Leza’s adopting Truman.”

  Leza choked off the regret for her hasty decision. “I said he could come home with me if he wasn’t adopted on Saturday.”

  “Still, either way he’ll have a home.”

  “That’s great.” Heath’s reluctant smile said sucker. “Ready to go? We need to run to the post office before closing time. My schoolbooks arrived, and they have them on hold.”

  “You’re starting school again?”

  He tipped Ellie’s chin higher. “We can study together.”

  Her nose and mouth crinkled in disgust. “You
study a lot.”

  The humorous sparkle in Heath’s eyes made Leza’s insides mushy again.

  “Why don’t you get Gunther from the play area, and I’ll meet you at the car.”

  Ellie tugged on the hem of Leza’s shirt. “That’s code for Heath wants to talk to you alone. Toldja he likes you.” With a playful expression, she skipped around her uncle and disappeared through the kennel door.

  Heath’s cheeks shaded red and he blinked to cover the embarrassment.

  “Are you seriously adopting that ugly cat?”

  “I’ll try. At the moment Truman doesn’t look like he wants to be bothered.”

  He scratched the head of the nearest fat black cat. “It’s movie and pizza night tonight. Want to join us?”

  Oh, so tempting. “I’m working tonight.”

  “How about tomorrow night?”

  She bit her lip and turned to put the nearest cat back in his cage so Heath wouldn’t see her hesitation.

  “I take it your response to my offers is a solid, forever no.” He continued to brush his hand down the cat’s back. “How are we supposed to be friends if you won’t even consider a casual dinner that includes a seven-year-old mood-breaker?”

  If you weren’t wearing a badge, I might be more tempted.

  “You’re right. If we don’t at least become friends, rumors will start that I don’t like you. And that’s not true. Why don’t you pick a night next week? You and Ellie can pick the movie and I’ll cook. I’ve seen your attempt at cooking, and I think it’s safer if I take command of the kitchen.”

  “My cooking is getting better. I only burned dinner when I found out Ellie had a fever.”

  She tightened her mouth to keep from laughing at his automatic defensiveness.

  “I can cook...or, more accurately, microwave...or order takeout.” His arms dropped to his sides, and he released a sigh. “Yeah. Okay. Dinner. Your place. How about Thursday?”

  “My place. Thursday.”

  At the shelter door, his triumphant smile broadened, reminding her of an athlete doing a victory dance. The twitch of his lips gave her the impression he wanted to say more but decided not to. Unfortunately, he disappeared before she could take the invitation back.