by JM Stewart
The mention of her grandmother sent the old familiar pain wrapping around her chest. Her grandmother raised her, officially adopting her when she was seven. Or so Gran had told her. Cecelia didn’t actually remember. She didn’t remember much of anything before the day she’d come to live with Gran, next door to Kyle and his family. Gran was the only mother Cecelia had ever known, and yet deep inside lay the knowledge that she’d had parents at some point. After all, you couldn’t come into this world without them, so, what happened to hers? The thoughts had filled her with questions over the years. Rather than answer, though, Gran would always evade or outright change the subject. Once, when Cecelia was about fifteen, she’d demanded an answer. Gran had smiled that sweet smile and very calmly told her, “They’re gone, sweetie. You have me now. That’s all that matters. We have each other.” Then she’d hugged her and walked away.
Three years ago, her grandmother had come down with a case of pneumonia she hadn’t been able to shake. Her grandmother had a chronic lung condition from years of smoking. It never failed that every winter she’d end up in the hospital. That winter, three years ago, she’d spent two months there. Eventually, her body gave out.
She got her love of flowers from Gran. Gran had had one of the best gardens in the state. She was always outside, with her hands in the soil, tending her plants. She’d shown Cecelia everything, from when to water, to how to fertilize to produce the best blooms, to how to group the plants together so they complemented one another.
Over the years, word had gotten out. Gran placed in several gardening contests, which landed her in the paper. Her garden was labeled one of the top in the state. People came from all over to get tips for their gardens and bouquets to put on their table. About ten years ago, Cecelia finally convinced her to open a small shop nearby. Full Bloom sat in a small shopping center on one of the busier streets in the area. The shop was a work in progress, but like everything else, Gran had had a knack for business. She’d been good with people, and with each regular customer they gathered, the store grew steadily every year.
After her death, Cecelia had taken over the shop. She had to admit, she loved being there, loved working with the flowers. Every day at the shop was like spending time with Gran. Some days, she swore she could still hear her calling out. Cecelia, sweetheart, go in the back and bring up those roses I just clipped . . .
Cecelia sighed, her chest aching. She missed her the most on days like this. If Gran were here now, she’d know the exact right thing to say that would ease all her fears in one fell swoop.
“Well, you know you can always count on me.”
Kyle’s gentle encouragement had the last of the panic finally releasing its hold on her chest. She smiled, warmth and relief seeping into her heart. This was why she’d walked over here in the pouring rain. She always knew she could count on him, that no matter what happened between them, he’d be there. And for the first time in a long time, she wanted to take advantage of that.
“Can I stay here tonight?” She folded her hands together and prayed he wouldn’t turn her down. “Jimmy’s supposed to come over to pick up his belongings, and I don’t want to be there when he does.”
Okay, so that was an excuse and a flat-out lie. She’d stopped seeing Jimmy two weeks ago, the day she’d told him she was pregnant. He’d stormed from her house with a slam of the screen door. What little he kept at her place could fit in a shoebox, which currently sat out in the grass beyond her porch. She’d hurled it out the front door after him that day.
Today, she needed her best friend. Her grandmother’s house felt too large, too quiet, as it often did. She needed Gran’s advice, but all she had was the big, empty house echoing around her. It made her feel alone, more than she had in a while.
She might not have meant to come here when she started walking ten minutes ago, but she didn’t want to leave. She knew darn well she’d taken a risk, wanting to stay with him, having to face this newfound attraction. But she needed her best friend. His strong embrace always made everything right, reminded her she wasn’t all alone in the world, and right then, she needed that the most. Whatever emotions being close to him brought, she’d deal with them.
“Sure you can trust Jimmy not to steal anything?”
Kyle’s question was a serious one but spoken with enough sarcasm she couldn’t accuse him of sounding contemptuous. A tone he used often in reference to Jimmy. Kyle had never liked him, nor had he bothered to hide it.
Cecelia heaved a sigh, the heat of shame creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. “You must think I’m a complete idiot.”
Twenty-seven years she’d waited, for the right man, the right time, afraid to trust her heart. Most of her boyfriends lasted anywhere from a few weeks to a few months before the panic set in. Her relationship with Jimmy had lasted longer than any other. Letting someone close meant opening up and inviting them into her heart. That kind of intimacy terrified her. It meant a leap of faith she’d never been able to make before with any man except Kyle and his brothers. And even then, the Morgan family had grown on her over time, in large part because they were friendly and patient.
She’d tried with Jimmy, though, and now she felt like a fool. Her grandmother’s stern warnings echoed through her mind. You have to be careful, Cecelia. People aren’t always what they appear to be.
“Gran always warned me to be careful about whom I trusted, to only give my heart to those worthy. She drilled it into me, over and over. Every friend I brought home, every boy I wanted to date. Are you sure you can trust him, Cecelia? There are bad people out there who can hurt you. You have to be careful. God, I can still hear her.” She shook her head. She used to think her grandmother had lost her mind, her distrust of people had been so encompassing. Gran was the epitome of overprotective. Now, she had to admit, maybe Gran knew something she didn’t. “I should’ve listened.”
Gran had been right, at least as far as Jimmy was concerned. Only now that their relationship was over did she see all the problems within it. Jimmy could be a sweet talker when he wanted something. Usually, it was sex. Even if the shop had been busy and she was exhausted, he’d sweet-talk her into giving in, even going so far as to convince her she wanted it. Despite all the years of growing up with Gran, Jimmy had slipped past her radar.
“People make mistakes, Ceci. God knows I have. You remember Kaitlyn?”
Oh, she remembered Kaitlyn, all right. Just thinking about the tall blonde had another confusing array of emotions knotting her stomach. Kaitlyn was Kyle’s last girlfriend. The woman had a fetish for men in uniform. She’d hung all over him. Kyle found out a little too late he wasn’t the only cop she had a fascination with. Cecelia had loathed the woman to the point she’d make excuses why she couldn’t see Kyle if he had Kaitlyn with him. She didn’t want to contemplate what it meant that she’d gotten so upset over her. She definitely didn’t want to face the possibility she was actually jealous. That was a road she refused to travel.
“All right, I’m done. You can turn around now.”
She dropped her arms to her sides and turned to face him. He stood in the same spot, staring at her, a tender smile curving his mouth. The sight of him caught her, and Cecelia couldn’t help smiling in return. She loved the way he looked when he dressed for work. He currently wore a crisp, clean light blue dress shirt that brought out the same color in his eyes, over which he wore a dark blazer. Khakis hugged his lean hips yet fell loose down his long legs, barely hinting at the corded muscles memory told her lurked beneath.
He kept his hair short and neat, completing the tidy appearance. The rich golden brown combined with his lightly tanned skin gave him a sun-kissed appearance. His eyes were her favorite feature. A beautiful mixture of sky blue and rain-cloud gray, they were intense and focused. She could always tell his mood by the color of his eyes. When he was playful and upbeat, those eyes were bright blue, like a cloudless sky on a summer day. Wh
en he had more on his mind than he wanted to share, when he was broody, they reminded her of the dark clouds that normally blanketed the sky this time of year.
Her gaze drifted to the curve of his right shoulder. Her head fit so perfectly there, as if the spot was tailor-made for her. Heat shivered up her spine, spreading throughout her body to settle liquid and delicious deep in her belly. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his long, lean body against hers, his addicting warmth infusing her, the way his strong arms closed around her . . .
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Kyle quirked a brow as he slid his watch onto his left wrist and latched the clasp.
Her hands resumed their trembling. Oh God, what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she stop doing that? She needed to get back the simple connection they’d shared before her attraction.
Kyle and his family had always been there. She recalled the day she’d met Kyle, down on the bank of the river running past the end of their combined properties. Something about his easy smile had drawn her in. She hadn’t trusted anybody back then, and all she remembered about that time was being full of fear. But Kyle had a smile for everyone. He’d sat down on the bank, pulled off his socks and shoes, and dangled his feet into the cool water. She couldn’t remember what he’d said anymore, but he’d talked, drawing her in with his easy personality as he tossed rocks into the water.
Turned out, he’d lived next door. He’d introduced her to his brothers, Chase and Evan, and his sister, Becca. She didn’t remember when exactly she’d started calling him her best friend. Those beginning years were a blur, a mishmash of memories. They’d met down by the river after supper every night for months. There were memories of playing tag or hide-and-seek between their combined properties. Until, slowly over the years, it became more abnormal not to see him every day.
Every year for Thanksgiving, Georgia invited them over. Turned out, Kyle and his family were all alone as well. No father in the picture, no family nearby. But it had taken Gran three years to finally accept one. All Cecelia knew was being with them made her feel like part of a bigger family. They all just . . . fit. Like somehow she’d always known them. The next year, Gran invited them over for Christmas dinner. Eventually, it became tradition to spend the holidays together. They’d combine fireworks on the Fourth of July and set them off together out the field behind the houses, and Gran and Georgia took turns cooking. It was a tradition they kept up even now.
Over time, Kyle’s family had become her family, and they treated her as such. But letting in others didn’t come easily. The doubts about the people she came into contact with hit her like the panic attacks—instinctive and immediate.
Now Kyle was the only family she had left. Whatever nonsense this attraction was, she’d squash it. Yes, being attracted to him made her wonder what it would be like between them. She wouldn’t be human if she didn’t. Could Kyle be the relationship that actually worked? After all, she’d known him for more than twenty years. Outside of Chase and Evan, he was the only man she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she could rely on.
But the fear of losing him always cut that wondering short. Besides, Kyle didn’t think of her that way. He saw her as another sister; but if by some odd twist of fate he thought of her as something more, she couldn’t risk their relationship for the sake of sex. Okay, yes, he was a man, and he was good-looking—she’d always thought so—but she didn’t do relationships well. What if a relationship between them didn’t work? Then she’d lose her best friend. She couldn’t go there.
“Actually, I was thinking about how you dress.” She swallowed hard, praying he didn’t notice the way her voice shook, and offered him what she hoped was a bright smile. She didn’t know what she’d do if he ever caught her drooling. “You’re a perfectionist if ever I’ve seen one. Right down to the crease in your khakis.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He picked up his tie off the bed and looped it around his neck, the left side of his mouth lifting into his trademark lopsided grin. His eyes twinkled at her, a genuine contentment there that seeped inside and wrapped around her heart.
Truth was, they hadn’t been very close lately. Kyle had never said anything, but there was a distinct distance between them she couldn’t put her finger on. It was a bunch of little things. He didn’t call her as much. Once a week or every two weeks, instead of every morning the way he’d done for years. When he called, the conversations were tight and awkward. They weren’t as open with each other. Kyle held back, so she did, too. When they saw each other at get-togethers with his family, he always seemed to watch her but kept his distance.
He didn’t touch her the way he used to, either. In the past, whenever he wanted to feel close to her, he simply did. It wasn’t unusual for him to pull her into his arms for a hug or slip his hand into hers and pull it into his lap. He’d done it for so long she’d never thought twice about it. With the exception of today, he hadn’t done anything like that in at least six months. Instead, a distinct tension had risen between them, an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.
She’d told herself it was because their lives were so busy. Most days she left the flower shop about the same time he started his shift. She opened the flower shop at seven and went home at three, leaving it to Jeanine to close up at nine. Kyle worked second shift, four to midnight, five days on, two off. Not to mention he’d worked a lot of overtime lately, and she’d spent most of her free time with Jimmy. They hadn’t gotten together, simply to spend time together, in months. They used to make dinner and watch a movie together every Saturday night, but she couldn’t remember the last time they’d done that.
He was still her best friend, though, and she missed him. Badly. Hadn’t even realized how much until he’d opened the door and stood in front of her. It made her realize that half the empty ache in her chest lately was him missing from her life. It was past time to do something about it. Whatever went on between them, it stopped now.
She squared her shoulders, firmly ignoring the butterflies that took flight in her stomach, and crossed the room to him. She took the tie from his hands and began to make the knot. Ironically, he was the one who’d taught her how to tie a tie in the first place. “Tell me something. If I were to go open your closet, what do you suppose I’d find?”
One corner of his mouth twitched, and amusement danced in his eyes. “Contrary to what Becca says, I do not alphabetize my closet.”
She couldn’t help reciprocating a smile. “Yes, but I’ll bet you five bucks it’s all arranged in a systematic fashion. Most likely by type and then by color. You probably even line your socks up in your drawer like a bunch of little soldiers in a parade.”
“Again, I ask you, how is this a bad thing?” He cocked a playful brow and leaned down, touching his nose to hers.
The twinkle in his eye and his sudden closeness had her brain shorting out. He was so close his warm breath fanned her mouth, filling her head with visions of his soft lips closing over hers.
Goose bumps popped up along her arms, and her fingers fumbled over his tie. She swallowed hard, ignoring the images bombarding her mind, and refocused on her task. “Actually, it makes you dependable.”
His whole apartment was like that. Clean white walls, decorated with pictures of the two of them, of his brothers and his sister and their families. Evan and his wife, Malia, and their three girls, along with Becca and her daughter. The rest of the apartment he kept furnished only with the essentials. Everything had its place. That was Kyle—efficient and tidy almost to the point of being anal. He thought everything out, never left anything to chance.
“You’re the kind of man I ought to be searching for.” The words were out before she’d thought about them, but she couldn’t deny their truth. Kyle loved kids. He was terrific with his nieces. Kind, considerate, and thoughtful, he was the kind of man a woman could rely on. One who made a girl feel safe, made her want to give her h
eart and invest her dreams in. Kyle was one of the good guys.
Kyle froze in front of her, and the atmosphere shifted, filling with the awkward tension that flared between them too much lately. His gaze seared into her with an intensity that made her already trembling hands shake like leaves blowing in a strong breeze. The ends of the tie slipped from her grasp, completely ruining her perfect Windsor knot.
She frowned, yanked the knot apart, and started over. “I hate it when you do that.”
When he studied her like that, she became nervous. Often made her wonder what really went on in his mind. He never said half of what he thought, but his eyes were always moving, taking everything in. Like now. Kyle had an eagle eye, one that had earned him a place in Homicide years earlier than many of his coworkers.
What did he see when he looked at her? Could he see right through her? Could he sense the uncontrollable thoughts that flew at random through her mind these days? That even now, standing there with his tie in her hands, an act she’d done for him countless times, she couldn’t stop trembling because every breath filled her lungs with his clean, spicy scent? Or that she longed to discover the scent on his skin?
“Do what?” His voice drifted quiet and pensive between them.
“I’m not one of your criminal cases.” She concentrated on pulling the wide end of the tie through the knot and not on the way his intense gaze called to her. If she looked up at him right now, he’d no doubt see right through her. Kyle could read her like nobody else. As if she were made of glass. “You won’t find any clues on me.”