“What guy?”
“The waiter. He was such a jerk. Did you hear him mumbling under his breath in a foreign language?”
“Um, he was French, Cody.”
“He was probably complaining about us.”
“He was repeating our order so he didn’t forget.”
“Oh. I knew I should’ve taken French in high school.” Cody turned into the empty space beside her car. She’d forgotten to leave her porch light on. Her burgundy door looked muddy-brown in the darkness.
Cody put his Camry in park, wearing a sheepish smile. “I guess I probably should’ve tipped, then.”
“You didn’t leave anything?”
“Now I feel like a jerk.”
Jade wished she’d known. She would’ve left a tip herself. Having been a server, that one hit close to home. Jade unbuckled her seat belt and glanced at the car’s clock. It wasn’t late, and neither of them had work tomorrow. She should ask him in for coffee. She wouldn’t mind extending the evening.
She waited while he responded to a text, looking at the darkened stoop. A shiver passed over her. She hated coming home to an empty, dark apartment. But she hated even worse the thought of letting a man into that space with her. When was she going to get past this?
He opened the car door, and she followed suit before he could come around. They paused at her front door while she unlocked it. She was being silly. Cody was a great guy. He was gentle and easygoing. He’d never hurt her. She opened her mouth, the invitation ready.
But nothing came out. The words stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard as she unlocked the second lock. Her mind knew he was safe, but her heart wasn’t ready to trust. She glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes and saw him waiting expectantly.
She pulled her key from the door and turned. “Thanks for dinner, Cody. I had a wonderful time.”
“Me too. I always have a great time with you.” His easy smile relaxed her.
He touched her chin and lowered his lips to hers. They met softly. His lips were yielding, and his scent was inviting. He kept space between them and didn’t pressure her for more.
When he drew away, his lidded gaze was trained on her. The easy smile was gone, and in its place was a serious look she hadn’t seen before.
His thumb swept over her chin. “I have a confession to make.” There was a serious note in his voice, a somber look in his eyes.
“Uh-oh,” she said lightly, bracing herself.
“I know we haven’t been going out long, but I feel like we’ve known each other forever. These past couple months have been great, and I wanted you to know . . . I think I’m falling in love with you, Jade.”
No. No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to keep it light and easy. That’s why Cody had been so appealing. He was safe. She worked to keep the rising panic from showing on her face.
“I hope I haven’t scared you off, but I—I just wanted you to know.”
She looked into his eyes and felt like scum. This was so unfair to him. He had a right to feel that way. Had a right to pursue that kind of love. But that’s not what she was looking for. She should’ve been honest. Now his feelings were involved, and she was going to hurt him.
He straightened, put his hands in his pockets. “It’s too soon. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She touched his arm. “No. You should have. It’s just . . .”
“You don’t feel the same.” His flat voice cut right through her.
“It’s not you, Cody. I’m just—I’m not looking for serious right now.” I’m not looking for love, just for a husband and a father for my babies. She closed her eyes. What a crock. Why had she thought that was even possible?
“You’ve got a lot going on.” He looked down at the ratty welcome mat the previous tenants had left.
“I do, I just—I can’t go there right now.” Or ever. She wasn’t living through the horror of love and loss again. Nothing was worth that.
“We can still, you know, keep going out.” He gave a hopeful grin. His phone buzzed, and for once he ignored it. “I promise I’ll keep my overwrought emotions to myself.”
A little piece of her heart broke. It would be pointless for her and painful for him. He needed to move on, find someone special. It wasn’t her.
She squeezed his arm. “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea, Cody. I’m really sorry. This is my fault. I never meant to—”
He held a palm up. “No, I get it. Really.” He turned his hand over, extending it. “Friends?”
She took his hand in hers. “Sure.”
He kissed her on the cheek, and with one last easy grin, he turned and got in his car.
Jade entered her apartment and locked it behind her. She flipped on the light and leaned against the door, remembering the hurt on his face. She felt like a dog.
You did the right thing.
Even if she were open to loving again, she didn’t think she’d ever love Cody the way he loved her. And she couldn’t help that. It had been the right thing to break it off. How else would he find that someone special? Still, it didn’t erase the memory of the hurt on his face. Jade closed her eyes and let out a sigh that came from her toes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DANIEL GLANCED AT JADE. “YOU’VE BEEN QUIET TODAY.”
She was stuffing envelopes at her desk. The mundane task must’ve been boring her silly. She hadn’t smiled once all day despite his efforts to cajole her from her bad mood.
“Twelve hundred envelopes won’t stuff themselves.” Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail today. Several pieces had fallen out and brushed the sides of her face. Her purple top skimmed her pregnant belly.
He remembered Cody’s hands resting on her stomach and fought back a growl.
She arched in the chair, rubbing her lower back. She’d been doing that a lot lately.
“Everything okay with the babies?”
“Yeah. I had a doctor’s appointment last week.”
“You should get up and stretch more. Would it help to put your feet up?”
She pulled the last few envelopes from the box. “I’m fine, Daniel.”
“Something’s wrong.”
She shot him a look as she slid her finger under the flap. “Ow!” Frowning, she sucked her finger.
Daniel rolled his chair to her desk and took the envelope from her hand. “Take a break. Boss’s orders.” It was nearly quitting time anyway.
She sat back in her chair. The twin commas between her brows and the pouty lips were adorable. “Stupid paper cut.”
“It’s more than a paper cut. Talk.”
She folded her hands on her stomach and fixed him with a look that made him squirm in his seat.
“Are you unhappy here?” he asked. “You want to look for another job?”
“No. I love it here.”
He found that hard to believe. “Then what is it?”
She looked down at the rings on her fingers. Started twisting the braided silver one. “I’m just in a funk.” Her eyes bounced off his. “I broke it off with Cody on Friday.”
Relief swelled inside. It was immediately squashed by the weight of guilt. “What happened?”
She started on the thumb ring. Her cheeks filled with color. She squirmed in her seat, avoiding his eyes.
An uneasy feeling started beneath his ribs and pushed outward. So help him, if Cody touched her—if he harmed one hair on her head, he was going to lay the guy flat out.
His cell phone on his desk vibrated.
“Your phone’s ringing.”
“I don’t care. Did he—Jade, did he hurt you?” There was no hiding the intensity of his tone.
Her eyes flew to his. “No. No, Daniel, he’d never—he’d never do something like that. He was . . .”
“What?”
She scowled, pressed her lips together until they were a flat line.
“He was what?” Daniel tried unsuccessfully to read the look on her face.
“Falling in love with me, okay?”
All the air left Daniel’s body. It was like a sucker punch to the gut. He reminded himself of what she’d said before. She’d broken up with Cody. It was over. No reason for his knees to start knocking now.
“That’s a bad thing?” he asked.
She sighed. Her rings clicked together as she messed with them. “I don’t want serious.”
He tilted his head. “Four months ago you were looking for a groom.”
She glared at him. “I do want a husband.”
“But not love?”
Jade’s eyes fell to her fingers.
What was she thinking? “They kind of go together, Jade.”
“I do want love. Just not—that kind of love.”
He shook his head, trying to clear it. Or maybe hoping the motion would jar some pieces into place, and he could figure out what the heck she was saying.
“I want someone safe and dependable and considerate. Someone who’ll be a good partner, a good father. I told you all this.”
“No guy’s going to want that, Jade.”
She met his eyes, and her shoulders slowly slumped, all the fight seeming to drain from her. Her eyes teared up. He felt like a jerk for making her cry.
“It was a stupid idea.”
He pulled her chair until their knees connected. Her chin wobbled, her lip trembled. Way to kick her when she’s down, Dawson.
Why didn’t she want love? It was a natural, healthy desire. Something wasn’t right here. Had the attack changed her? Was she afraid of men? Afraid to trust?
“So what’s with the boycott on love?” He’d hoped for a smile but didn’t get one.
She shrugged. “I don’t want to go there again.”
“Why not?” He wasn’t letting her off the hook. Not even when she narrowed her eyes at him.
She didn’t say anything for a while, so he waited her out.
“I haven’t exactly been a raging success in that department,” she said finally.
He wasn’t sure what she meant. The rape? That wasn’t her fault. And she’d had a good relationship with Aaron. Of course it hadn’t ended so well. His death had sent her spiraling into a . . .
He fixed her with a look. “This is about Aaron.”
Her Adam’s apple bobbed as she swallowed. She caught her trembling lip between her teeth as her lashes swept down. “I don’t want to do that again. Ever.”
His heart cracked open. He’d been there. Granted, on the outskirts. She’d hardly let her mom in, let alone him. She’d been like the walking dead for months.
“Honey, that won’t happen again.”
“You don’t know that.”
“It was a freak accident. The chances of losing somebody like that again are one in a million.”
“Everyone dies eventually.”
“But you can’t—you can’t just give up.” Was he really trying to talk her into loving someone else? He was a glutton for punishment.
“I’m not giving up.” Her voice wobbled. “I’m just making an adjustment.”
The kind of adjustment no man would ever accept. It was impossible to be close to Jade and not want all of her. He knew this better than anyone.
He looked at her face, at the remnant of pain from loving Aaron, and knew a moment of insane jealousy. The man was dead, and he still had the power to make her weep. Aaron was gone, but he was still holding her back.
Daniel palmed the back of his neck. This wasn’t Aaron’s fault. Much as Daniel had hated seeing them together, he’d been good to her, had loved Jade as much as she’d loved him.
“Aaron wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”
That got her attention. She nailed him with a look. “This has nothing to do with what Aaron wanted. It’s about what I can handle. And I can’t handle loving again, Daniel. I won’t.”
He didn’t like seeing her riled, but it beat sad any day of the week. “So you broke up with Cody just because he was falling in love with you.”
“Yes, I did.”
“And you’re going to break up with every other guy who has the misfortune of falling for you.”
Her lips fell.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Thanks, Daniel.” She stood, her chair spinning backward as she walked toward the back.
“Jade . . .”
She disappeared into the supply closet.
Way to go, Dawson. For a politician, you sure do have a way with words. He banged his head against the chair back. Once, twice, three times. Maybe he could go down to the nursing home next and pick a fight with one of the elderly women.
He heard a grunt from the closet, then a loud clattering sound. He sprang from the chair, darted across the office, and blasted through the doorway. Hundreds of envelopes fluttered to the floor around Jade. Reams of paper smacked the floor as the towering shelf tipped. Beneath it, Jade ducked her head, arms outstretched.
Daniel nudged Jade out of harm’s way and caught the shelf. He pushed hard. The heavy-duty shelf settled back in place just as the closet door banged shut.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
JADE’S PULSE RACED. THE SHELF HAD NEARLY SQUASHED HER. Her toes throbbed. A ream of paper had fallen on her foot.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thanks. I couldn’t reach, and I stood on the lower shelf—thought it was bolted to the wall.” She bent over and started picking up the mess.
“Where’s your phone, Jade?”
“In my purse. It’s going to take forever to clean this up.” She was ready to go home. She wanted to crawl under her covers and take a nice long nap. Her stomach let out a growl. After dinner. Something quick and microwavable. Or maybe a salad. She should probably have a salad.
Daniel stepped around her, moving toward the door.
“I could use a little help here,” she said, hearing the edge to her voice. A box of paper clips had fallen too. Hundreds of them. “Great.”
“We have a problem.”
She looked up at his serious tone.
Daniel ran his hand over his face.
She noted the closed door and remembered. “We’re locked in.”
“I left my phone on the desk.”
“What happened to the—” The wooden wedge lay at his feet.
“I must’ve knocked it loose when I ran in.”
She dropped the stack of envelopes and stood. Not good. Not good at all. The closet was small. Seemed even smaller with the door closed. Her lungs seemed to deflate, refusing to fill. Get a grip, Jade. Breathe. She turned so he couldn’t see her panic.
“Maybe—maybe someone will come in,” she squeezed out.
“Were you expecting someone?”
Deep breaths. In. Out. “No, but you have a five thirty at the coffee shop with Sarah from the Gazette, remember? I set it up this morning. Maybe when you don’t show she’ll—”
“She had to change it. She’s calling tomorrow instead.”
Jade looked away. The walls were closing in. She couldn’t breathe.
“You okay?”
“Maybe someone’ll see the lights on later, when it’s dark.”
“Maybe.”
Who was she kidding? The town shut down after dark. No one was going to wander by the mayor’s office and check the doors.
She inhaled deeply and walked toward the back of the closet, a whole four steps. A chill passed over her, and she looked up at the ceiling. Who’d had the bright idea to put a vent in here? And why had she never noticed it was freezing cold?
Maybe because you never faced the prospect of a night in here.
No. They were not spending the night in a closet. There had to be something they could—
“Mom,” she mumbled. Grandma’s Attic was right on the other side of the wall. Mom’s office was about this far back.
She raised her hand to the wall and pounded. “Mom!”
She stopped to listen, but there was nothing from the other side. She pou
nded and yelled again. The more she yelled, the harder her heart pounded, the more desperate she was to be heard. The harder her heart beat, the smaller her lungs felt.
“Mom!” She kept pounding. Her fist felt bruised. She switched hands.
“Jade.”
“Mom!” No one was expecting Jade tonight. Daniel lived alone. No one would even miss them, much less come looking.
“Jade, she’s not there.”
Her hands sore, she began kicking the wall with her good foot.
Daniel took her arms. “Jade. She’s gone home for the day.”
“No, she hasn’t.”
“Yes, she has. Calm down. Come on, don’t freak out on me. It’s going to be okay.”
She turned on him. “We’re stuck in a closet, and no one’s coming to get us.”
“I have a meeting with Bill Hollis at seven thirty to talk about the ferry.”
She spun, hopeful. Why hadn’t he said so? “Tonight?”
His face fell. “In the morning.”
Over twelve hours away. Dread sucked the moisture from her mouth. She needed out of here. Now. “I don’t like—” She couldn’t make herself say it. Felt stupid. It was a closet—and a pretty big one at that. Normal people were not afraid of closets.
“It’s going to be okay. If no one comes in, we’ll just sleep here. Nothing bad’s going to happen.”
“Sleep here?” She couldn’t fathom her heart settling enough to allow for sleep.
“The floor’ll be a little hard, but we’ll make do.”
A new thought hit. “How am I going to go to the bathroom? Hello, I’m pregnant.”
“Well. There’s nothing to drink anyway.”
Thankfully she hadn’t had anything to drink in a few hours. “Or eat,” she said. As if making the same realization, her stomach growled.
“Maybe there’s a granola bar or something. Betty Jean used to keep the office stocked with those. We’ll be fine. Have a seat while I get this cleaned up, okay?”
She tried to draw strength from his calm eyes. He wasn’t freaking out. Then again he didn’t have a pregnant bladder or a fear of tight spaces.
He squeezed her arm, and she squatted down. Might as well help. Not like she was going anywhere, and she needed a distraction.
Dancing with Fireflies Page 15