Seeking Shelter

by Angel Smits

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Jace reached out and tipped her chin up with his finger. “You go home like your mom wants you to, and I’ll come over to the store later for coffee. We can have a drink together then, okay? Maybe your mom will join us and we can get to know each other better.” He needed to see how Amy was today anyway, after all he’d said—and done—last night. Might as well get it over with.

  The way Katie’s face lit up made Jace smile.

  “Okay.” She turned and ran toward the grocery, her curls streaming out behind her and her backpack bouncing. “Mama!” she yelled as she pulled open the door and disappeared inside.

  Jace was fairly certain Amy would soon start building a wall to keep him out of her store. He turned back to the bike, realizing he wouldn’t be taking it out on the road today, after all. Not if he intended to keep his promise to Katie.

  He didn’t wait long to head down the street. Partially because he didn’t want Katie to think he’d forgotten her, and partially because he was curious about what kind of reception he’d get from Amy. For some reason, it mattered to him. He stopped thinking and stepped inside the dim store.

  He waited for his eyes to adjust and looked around for Amy.

  “Hi, Mr. Jace.” Katie sat at the tall coffee bar, waving wildly. “I saved you a seat.” She pointed at the stool next to her own.

  Amy was behind the bar, very obviously not waving at him. He smiled at her and sat next to Katie. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  Katie grinned back at him. Amy nodded, her manners firmly in place. “What can I get for you?” she asked.

  “What’s good?” A blackboard above her head had dozens of drinks written in various colors of chalk. Some of the names were familiar to him, some were definitely concoctions unique to this place, like the Rattlesnake Shake. “What are you having?” he asked Katie.

  “She’s already had her after-school snack. It’s too close to dinner.”

  “But, Mama,” Katie whined. “I told you he was coming over here to have a drink with us.”

  “Sorry, sweetie.” Amy frowned at her daughter and Jace rubbed his chin, wondering what to do next. He’d promised Katie, but Amy wasn’t even slightly interested in giving. The determined gleam in her eye reminded him of Mac, and he smiled. Katie wasn’t winning this one.

  “How long until supper?” The little girl leaned over on the counter.

  “Not long.”

  “Can Mr. Jace stay for supper?”

  He nearly laughed at the stricken look on Amy’s face, which would not have been a good idea. Katie saw it, too, and grinned. The little minx. He’d have to remember that bit of information about her. Her manipulation skills were primo.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” he protested, not feeling as reluctant as he should. He’d like to spend some time with Amy. Talk with her on a level that wasn’t so confrontational.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Please, Mama?”

  Few Hollywood actresses had what this kid had. Pure moxie. Jace could only sit back and watch. Amy was doomed, he realized. When this kid was a teenager? Yeah, seriously doomed.

  “Well...” Amy said the word slowly, as if it were being dragged out of her. “I suppose.” She looked up at Jace then, a forced smile on her lips. “It’s nothing fancy. Just grilled burgers.”

  “That’d be nice.”

  Katie giggled and jumped off the stool to run to the back of the store. “I’ll go get washed up for supper. Butcher?” she called, and the dog went trotting after her, his tail flapping wildly behind him.

  Jace looked at Amy and the breath hitched in his throat. She was watching Katie with a look on her face that was pure mom—loving and disgruntled all at once.

  He laughed. “Hey, if it’s a problem, I can come up with some excuse to bow out.” He didn’t want to, but he would.

  “No. That would disappoint her. She invited you. You’re welcome to join us.” Amy actually smiled, and though it wasn’t the wide, warm smile he’d prefer to see, it would do.

  “I’d still like a cup of coffee, if you don’t think it’ll spoil my dinner,” he teased.

  Shaking her head, Amy poured him a cup and took his money without another word. She wasn’t smiling, but she hadn’t thrown him out, which gave him hope that he hadn’t screwed up everything. She was about to move away when he spoke. “Just to warn you, she overheard us talking last night.”

  Amy froze, and turned wide eyes on him. “What do you mean?”

  “She heard us out on the porch.” He tilted his head toward the back of the store. “She came by the garage on her way home from school and asked if I knew her grandpa. That’s why I came over here. To tell you.”

  “Great.” Amy leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms over her waist. “I didn’t want her to know about my father. Not...not now. Maybe when she’s older. Maybe.”

  Jace wasn’t sure she was talking to him or to herself. She looked so damned defensive standing there, and at the same time vulnerable. She was tough, he knew that, but he also knew she shouldn’t have to fight the world all on her own. She wasn’t going to like what he said next, but he wasn’t keeping secrets from her anymore.

  “She also said she doesn’t sleep when you leave to cook. She worries about you.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what she told me.” He didn’t say any more, just slowly sipped his coffee, giving Amy time to digest that piece of information. And giving himself time to swallow back the urge to walk around the counter and...and what? Comfort her? He refused to let himself pursue that thought, but the image of her leaning into his chest was too vivid to ignore. He took another swallow and tried to wash it away.

  “It’s time to close up.” Katie ran through the store, stopping only when she and Butcher reached the front door. She turned the old lock and flipped the Open sign over like a pro. “Come on, Mama.” She walked to where they were, looking up expectantly. “I washed up and everything. See? Even Butcher’s clean.”

  Jace looked down. The dog’s face was wet, the fur above his eyes expertly parted to lie flat against his ears.

  They all laughed and Katie headed to the back of the store. “Come on, if you dare,” Amy said to Jace as she followed her daughter.

  Jace’s heart sank. This kid was pinning way too much on this. “Hey, maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” he said to Amy. Katie looked back and her face crumpled, sending a twinge of guilt through him.

  “No, please.” Amy turned to glance at him. “We’d love for you to join us.” She still didn’t sound as if she meant it, but the glare she gave him said loud and clear, Don’t you dare let her down.

  “In that case, I’d appreciate it.”

  Katie grinned and guided him to the back porch, to one of the wooden chairs that sat at the small table. The sun was low in the sky, and while the heat of the day hung on, it was pleasant out here in the shade. Luckily, the girl chatted a mile a minute to fill the awkward silence as Amy put the meat on the grill and brought the rest of dinner outside.

  Jace was a burger and fries kind of guy. He wasn’t ashamed of it. But the “burger” that eventually sat on the plate in front of him wasn’t quite what he usually ate. It lacked that dark, grilled color, looking a pale gray. And were those lumps? He gazed at it for several moments, trying to figure out what to do.

  “Ketchup,” Katie whispered.

  “What?”

  The little girl slid the red bottle toward him, then stared at him, expectant and innocent. Amy was in the kitchen getting the salad, so he narrowed his eyes at Katie.

  “Like this.” She picked up the bottle and started squeezing it for all she was worth. He’d never seen anyone put that much ketchup on anything. Then she passed it to him again.

  Jace frowned. He didn’t want t
o upset Amy by not eating her food. His mom had taught him at least the basic manners before he’d left home. He picked up the burger, and just as he sank his teeth into it, heard Katie whisper, “You’ll be sorry.” Then she had the audacity to giggle.

  He knew instantly why she was laughing at him. How could someone ruin something as simple as a burger? It was just hamburger, grilled in its own delectable, fattening juices, right? Not this one.

  “Told you.” Katie gave the bottle a nudge.

  In self-defense, Jace squeezed a large mound of the stuff onto his burger. Just as he set the bottle down, Amy returned to the table.

  She gave a polite, hostess smile and looked at his plate. “Ah, you’re one of those. Just like Katie. Don’t tell me you put ketchup on everything the way she does?”

  “Everything?” he said around his next bite.

  Katie looked at him in pity and nodded. “Yep. Everything.”

  “Uh-huh.” He ate a couple more bites, realizing all he tasted was the ketchup. Whatever she’d done to the burger was masked by the condiment. Thank goodness.

  “This is one of my mom’s recipes.” Amy looked at him expectantly, as if daring him to say anything bad about it. Was she trying to poison him?

  He paused in chewing. “Um.” He swallowed. “Good.” Something hard that felt suspiciously like Katie’s shoe hit his shin, and the little girl glared at him. “What?” he mouthed before turning back to look at Amy, who ate her ketchupless burger as if there wasn’t a blessed thing wrong with it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DINNER WAS FAR FROM a silent affair, as Katie kept up a running monologue. Jace learned more about the small town and this tiny family in those twenty minutes than in the two days he’d been here. Who knew Butcher liked so many different dog treats?

  Amy had to tell Katie twice not to talk with food in her mouth. She responded by being quiet for maybe half a minute. Then she’d start talking all over again. Jace tried not to smile, sensing Amy was not in a laughing mood, but it was difficult.

  He hadn’t been around many kids, which put him at a loss when Katie asked questions, but left him totally beguiled by Amy’s interactions with her. Even a rebuke was delivered with kindness and warmth. He couldn’t remember a more entertaining meal...despite the inedible food.

  “Mama, did you know Jace ran away from home?” Katie volunteered as she ate the last of her chips.

  And he’d forgotten that there were no secrets with a six-year-old.

  “Uh, no, I didn’t know that,” Amy answered, frowning at him. “Did he tell you that?”

  “I might have said something....” He shrugged.

  “Yep. His daddy is in heaven, like Rachel’s.”

  “I’m sorry, Jace.” Sincerity softened Amy’s eyes.

  He swallowed. “It was a long time ago. I was just a kid.” The silence hung heavy between them, and for once Katie didn’t fill it.

  The sun was low in the sky when Amy stood. “Finish up, Katie,” she prompted, gathering dishes. “It’s almost time to get ready for bed.”

  Even though her eyelids were at half-mast, the girl groaned. “Aw, Mama. Can’t I stay up tonight? Jace is here.”

  “Nope. Sorry. It’s a school night. You knew that when we invited him.”

  “Okay.” Katie slid off her chair and came to stand beside him. “You’re not going away, are you, Jace? You can come back for dinner again, right?”

  “Uh...” He looked over at Amy, who frowned at her daughter. “I’m not going anywhere, not for a while anyway.” He didn’t elaborate. It all depended on the woman who stared at them from across the porch. “Go ahead. Do as your mom says. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Katie smiled and reached out to give Jace a hug. Then with a giggle, she ran to the door and held the screen open for her mom.

  Jace shot to his feet. “Here, let me help.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve got it.”

  Amy caught the door with her elbow and Katie went inside, her sneakered feet thumping down the stairs. Jace grabbed the door and reached out for part of the dishes.

  “No.” Amy looked almost afraid. “I’m fine.”

  “My mom taught me better,” he teased. “You did the cooking. I’ll help clean up.”

  “I always do the cooking. I’m used to it.”

  Why was she arguing with him? It was dishes. Simple, everyday stuff.

  She ducked inside, and Jace knew she wasn’t really inviting him in, but he followed anyway. He didn’t want to startle her, so he made sure she heard his boots, just as he’d heard Katie’s sneakers on the steps.

  “I really don’t need your help,” she said once they’d reached the bottom of the stairs. What surprised him, though, wasn’t her words, but the flash of uncertainty in her eyes. He stopped, knowing he was pushing a button, but not sure how to do anything else.

  Jace stood in the doorway and looked around. How did she manage to cook anything in such a cramped space? No wonder she used Caryn’s kitchen.

  The whole apartment seemed clean, but tiny and cluttered. One wall had a sink, a two-burner stove and a countertop that was maybe a foot long. A small table sat a few feet away with two chairs and a top barely big enough for two plates. The illusion of separation from the living room came only from the bulk of the refrigerator.

  He smiled when he looked over at that fridge. A dozen drawings held in place by magnets covered every inch of the door. One in particular seemed to outshine the others—a crookedly drawn face with a shock of bright purple hair. Katie loved to draw, and it seemed her mother liked to display that love.

  “I know you don’t need my help. Need has nothing to do with it.” He strolled on inside. “It’s about manners.”

  With a sigh, she smiled. It still wasn’t the full, broad smile he wanted to see. It was a polite one. He hated that kind.

  “I absolve you of the whole manners thing.” She deposited the dishes in the tiny sink.

  “Is that what you’d tell Katie if she visited someplace?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Gotcha.” He grinned and stepped to the sink, turned on the water and grabbed the dish soap sitting on the back.

  “You do dishes?”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You don’t have to look so surprised, but yeah. Mac and I didn’t exactly have the money for paper plates. And maid service was way out of our budget.” He plunged his hands into the soapy water. “You bring the rest and I’ll get started here.”

  For a minute she stood there, staring at him in obvious shock.

  “What?” He grinned at her, noting the color rising in her cheeks. All night he’d fought to keep his gaze away from her. Polite. Friendly. Safe. Appropriate for the daughter of his best friend, and the mother of a six-year-old who’d sat at the table with them.

  But there was nothing safe about the flare in her eyes, or the answering rush of heat that shot through him.

  * * *

  “DO YOU EVER ACCEPT HELP from anyone?”

  Jace’s voice came out of the shadows and Amy spun around, nearly dropping the last few dishes in her hands. She hadn’t heard him come outside.

  She’d been too lost in her own thoughts. It was so strange to have someone in her home. She didn’t even let Caryn or Hank come down to her apartment. They always met her in the coffee shop or at the diner.

  It wasn’t that she was ashamed. She just...needed her space. Needed to have one safe place all her own.

  “I...I accept help from my friends.”

  He stepped toward her. Her throat went dry as she watched him move. He looked the same as he had all evening—yet different.

  His dark hair fell to his shoulders, curling slightly on the ends, tempting her to touch. The black T-shirt he wore melded
to the thick muscles of his shoulders and chest before it met the narrow waistband of his jeans. Jeans that weren’t tight, but fit well. Her mouth watered as she wondered what he’d feel like. Taste like.

  She shook her head, fighting the sensual atmosphere.

  “What does it take to be your friend, Amy?” he whispered, stopping only a couple inches away from her.

  “I—I barely know you.”

  “We can work on that.” His smile shone white in the dim night.

  Something inside her screamed, No! Amy trembled. She looked down, breaking eye contact, and focused on putting the dishes back on the picnic table to keep from dropping them. She wanted to run away—again—but knew she couldn’t. She shouldn’t.

  Not every man was like Matt. She knew that, though she had to keep reminding herself. Jace didn’t push, simply stood there giving her the space she needed. She appreciated it. She looked up then, not sure what to say or do, but knowing she had to somehow take control of the situation.

  “I feel like I know you.” Jace moved closer, carefully.

  She could see the heat in his eyes. She saw every whisker along his jaw.

  He reached out and took a curl of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing gently before letting go so the strands could curl down her back. “You had white-blond hair when you were two.” His laugh was soft. “You’re a hard worker.”

  He was so close. His touch seemed innocent, yet intimate. He didn’t scare her, which she tried to analyze, but couldn’t.

  “You’ve raised a beautiful little girl.” His gaze burned into hers and she couldn’t look away. “What do you do for yourself, Amy?”

  Nothing, she wanted to say, but bit her tongue. He’d never believe her. No one was that altruistic, and certainly not her. So many people did so much for her. Caryn let her cook in her kitchen. Rick fixed her car when she needed it. Hank helped at the ranch and with everything else she needed. She owed them. She helped pay them back by keeping the store going. Without it, they’d have to drive over fifty miles for food. But it wasn’t enough, not nearly.