Seeking Shelter

by Angel Smits

How could she ever be selfish and think just of herself?

  But looking at Jace right now, feeling the heat of his body engulf her, she knew she wanted this, wanted to touch him. For so long she’d kept herself shut away and distant. For once she needed to do something just because she wanted to. Go for it, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Caryn’s whispered through her mind.

  Amy hadn’t been kissed since—

  Jace’s lips met hers, and there was no more thinking. She closed her eyes and let herself feel him. The surprising softness of his lips. The brush of his breath on her skin. She sucked in his scent, letting it swirl around, intoxicatingly, in her brain. Masculine. Warm. She heard a sigh, and realized it came from her.

  He moved closer. His big hands curled around her waist. Images slammed into her mind of another time. Another place. A very different man.

  Amy whimpered and jerked away, gulping in air. She wasn’t sure if it was desire or fear racing through her blood, but her chest tightened and she fought to catch her breath. Her whole body trembled.

  She backed up, her fingers to her lips. Not to wipe Jace’s kiss away, but to hold it there, safe and sweet.

  Mortified, she moved toward the door. What must he think of her? He reached out to stop her, but she flinched and his hand fell away.

  He watched her, raking his fingers through his thick hair. “Who hurt you?” he finally asked.

  His words shocked her. “N-no one.” How could he have possibly guessed? She’d never told anyone about what had happened to her and she wasn’t about to start. Especially not now.

  She glanced at the back door, remembering what Jace had told her earlier. Katie could hear everything they said out here. Her daughter could never know about Matt. “I think you should go.” Amy reached the door, and felt almost disappointed that he didn’t try to stop her again.

  She didn’t look back until she was inside and had to turn to close the door.

  He was gone. There was no evidence that he’d ever even been there. Only the few dishes she’d left on the table indicated anyone had been out there.

  Amy wanted to cry, but a call from Katie saved her. “I’m coming,” she answered, closing and locking the door on the building as well as her foolish heart.

  * * *

  JACE WALKED FOR WHAT seemed like hours and very well could have been. All around him, the lights of the small town winked out, and soon everyone was in bed.

  What made Amy so skittish? He’d almost think she didn’t like his kiss, except that her initial response had been warm and receptive. Then, as if a switch had flipped, she’d turned away.

  He had the key to the B and B and knew Hank was expecting him. Finally, he made his way back to the old house. Maybe he should just go in, grab his gear and get the hell out of here.

  Quietly, he climbed the stairs, ignoring the tightness in his gut, and found his way through the darkness. The shades in his room were open and the glow of the streetlight illuminated the furnishings. His backpack on the dresser, and the few clothes he’d worn, scattered across the still unused bed, were all he’d brought with him. He hastily crammed the clothes inside the pack and turned to go.

  He’d leave the key on the kitchen counter and head out the back. No one would ever know, or care, once he left. He winced as he remembered what he’d promised Katie. Regret wasn’t anything new. He’d get used to it this time, too.

  Hank sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, doing a crossword puzzle, put a kink in the plan. He frowned over his reading glasses, then pulled them off before he spoke. “You leaving, too?”

  Jace cursed.

  “Thought maybe you’d think about sticking around.” The older man stood and went to the worn coffeepot. He poured the last of it into his cup and switched the machine off. “Guess she’s just too good at it.”

  “Who? At what?”

  Hank chuckled. “Amy. That’s where you had dinner, wasn’t it? Chasing away anyone who gets too close is her specialty.”

  With that single comment, Jace knew he wasn’t going anywhere. At least not now. He let the backpack drop and joined Hank at the table. “You got something you want to say?” He met the man’s stare with one of his own.

  “You’re not so stupid, boy.” Hank sat down again and put his glasses back in place. “Give me a five-letter word for altercation. Oh, yeah...brawl.” He filled in the squares of the puzzle with a laugh. “Heard you got a pretty mean swing.”

  “I can hold my own.”

  “Yeah, well, Rick’s always had a big mouth, but his heart’s in the right place.”

  It dawned on Jace that he didn’t have a clue if Amy’s heart belonged to someone else. Kissing her might not have been the best idea, but he could still taste her.... “There a history with them?”

  “Nah, just friendship. Ever since they were kids.” Hank laughed again. “He’s always had a thing for Caryn, and if you went to the bar, you saw it. That boy wears his heart like a badge on his sleeve.”

  “Yeah.” Jace shifted in his seat. “Someone hurt Amy.” It wasn’t a question.

  “How would you know that?”

  He wasn’t about to share the details of their kiss with Hank or anyone. It was private, and it was clear Amy guarded her privacy. He knew the difference, though, between a reluctant kiss and a flinch of fear. “Just a hunch. From her reactions.”

  Hank looked at him for a moment, as if wondering how much to say. “Yep. Hurt her pretty damned bad, too.”

  “Who?” Jace asked.

  “Don’t know. She came home from college after her freshman year, pregnant and broken. She’s never told me and I don’t ask. The rest is hers to tell, if she chooses. So far, she ain’t choosin’.” The gleam in the older man’s eyes told Jace he knew more than he was saying, and Jace knew there wasn’t any way to get him to talk.

  “Katie’s dad?”

  “Think so.” Hank rubbed his chin and got that distant look in his eye again. “Not sure. Guess it could be a combination of everything. Amy’s own dad taking off. Her mom dying. She’s always been a good girl, but she’s never really been happy.”

  The silence was almost painful. Jace let it go on as long as he could. “But?”

  “But nothing.” Hank took a deep drink of his coffee. “She does just fine supporting and raising that girl. She’s tough. It’s a shame she has to have such a hard life.”

  “You got a point to all this?” Jace leaned back in the chair, figuring he looked a whole lot more relaxed than he felt.

  “Guess I do. Always wondered if anyone’d come along who’s willing to take on the challenge. Ain’t nobody around here who can. You hungry?”

  Jace frowned at Hank’s change of topic. “Why would I be? I just had dinner at Amy’s.”

  Hank laughed. “That’s exactly why I’m asking. Amy is a good businesswoman. That store’s never been run better, but we’ve all been subjected to her cooking before.”

  “It isn’t that bad.” Though Jace barely suppressed a shudder as he remembered the burgers from hell.

  “You’re a better man than I. You must like ketchup.” Hank laughed again. “It could be worse, I guess.” He took another sip of his coffee, looking over the cup’s rim. He wasn’t smiling now and Jace knew he probably wasn’t kidding.

  “How?”

  “She could actually need to support herself with her cooking the way Maddie did. At least this way, we only have to buy the homemade stuff occasionally.”

  Jace stared at him. Ah, hell. “You’re kidding, right?” He pushed himself out of his chair.

  “Nope. That girl can’t cook her way out of a paper bag. She’s a fair baker, but when it comes to whipping up dishes like her mama used to? Nope. She didn’t get that gene.”

  Jace hadn’t ever met Madeline Grey and he was p
retty sure that was a good thing. The damage she’d done to Mac had gone a long way to making him the wandering, homeless man Jace had first met. Were these people helping Amy because they’d protected her from Maddie, or had the woman convinced them to help her daughter after she was gone?

  Jace could hear Mac swearing all the way from heaven. He wouldn’t be happy with either of these possibilities. He’d always hated liars.

  “I can warm you up some leftovers,” Hank offered from where he stood at the refrigerator.

  Jace grabbed his pack. “No, I’m good. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. Think I’ll turn in.”

  He pocketed the key and headed out the back door to the hammock in the yard. Standing under the stars, he pictured Mac’s face. That familiar determined look was the same one he’d seen on Amy’s face last night, and again tonight preparing dinner.

  He had an idea how to help her. He just wasn’t sure she’d actually let him.

  Out of habit, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the worn silver dollar he carried. It had belonged to his dad. With a practiced ease, he flipped it into the air. Heads he’d stay, tails he’d fix the bike and ride away.

  Heads. He laughed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AMY SMELLED COFFEE. Strong, rich coffee. Heavenly... Her eyes flew open. What the...? She flung back the covers, rushed out the bedroom door, then skidded to a halt. There stood Jace, smack in the middle of her kitchen, casually leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand.

  As his gaze raked over her, she was reminded that all she wore was her blue T-shirt-and-shorts pajamas. She should have grabbed her robe, but looks were the last thing she was considering when she’d realized something odd was happening in her kitchen.

  Now, though, she felt her cheeks warm. She definitely felt underdressed next to him in his jeans and black T-shirt. She resisted the urge to tug the hem of her shirt down.

  How had he gotten in? Katie stood beside him, gazing up adoringly. Great. Amy needed to talk to her daughter about letting strangers in the house.

  “What are you doing here, Jace?” she asked.

  “Mama!” Katie frowned at her. “Jace said he’s going to fix our kitchen.”

  “You what?” She stared at the man lounging against her counter. The grin on his face was far too self-satisfied. “Are you kidding?”

  “No. Not kidding.” He took a long swallow of his coffee.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Katie mimic his actions, lifting her matching cup just as Jace did. Amy nearly wrenched it from Katie’s hands. At the last second, she realized he hadn’t given her daughter coffee, but milk. Amy felt a little sheepish, but refused to look at him in case he could read her expression.

  “Go get ready for school, sweetie,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Aw, Mama.”

  “I mean it. Now.” She didn’t like being stern with her daughter, but Jace was moving in too close, too quickly. Katie liked him way too much, and Amy despaired at the hope she saw in her little girl’s eyes. She had to put a halt to this.

  “Okay.” Katie dragged her feet as she left the room.

  As soon as she was out of hearing, Amy turned on Jace. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in a low voice.

  “We’re remodeling this sorry excuse for a kitchen.”

  “And why are we doing that?”

  “Because you need it. You cook to supplement your income, right? Doing it here doesn’t seem possible.”

  “It works just fine. Besides, I use Caryn’s kitchen when I need to, like the other night.”

  He leaned in, an indulgent smile on his face. “And you think that’s a good idea?”

  The clean scent of him teased her and her mind went straight to last night...and that kiss.

  “That’s just crazy.” Jace handed her a mug of coffee and Amy was too distracted to refuse. She took a sip. He did know how to make it. Drinking also gave her time to think. “I never said anything about needing a new kitchen.”

  “You don’t have to. Sorry if I hurt your feelings, but look at this place.”

  She had. Plenty of times. It was clean, but useful? Not so much. “It’s like a studio apartment setup.” As if that made it any better. Looking around the lame kitchen, she saw it for all it wasn’t.

  She’d had everything checked before she’d moved in, and Hank had insisted on an inspection, top to bottom. But she used it only when she had to. Otherwise, she cooked at the diner or, like last night, she grilled.

  Right now, Jace was the best-looking thing in it. She quickly reined in that thought.

  “Two people need more than a studio. Besides, I can do this. It’s a perfectly good solution,” he said.

  He didn’t look or sound like he was giving in. She frowned. This was her home. She’d decide what was best for her and Katie.

  Amy grasped the nearest straw. “You can’t afford that.” The idea of a new, usable kitchen was tempting. But not realistic.

  Jace set down his coffee cup in a deliberate movement. The lack of sparkle in his eye told her she might have grabbed the wrong straw.

  “You don’t know what I can or can’t afford. Don’t judge me, lady.” She saw the anger in his eyes. “Besides, I’m not doing this just for you,” he whispered. “I’m doing this because it’s what Mac would expect of me. And because that little girl deserves better.” He pointed toward Katie’s closed bedroom door.

  “What the heck does that mean?” Amy didn’t think she was going to like what he planned to say next.

  “It means you leaving her here alone at night, even if it’s just to go next door, is unacceptable. Putting Mac’s granddaughter at risk is not an option.”

  Amy felt the sting of his accusation. She didn’t put her daughter at risk. She had no choice....

  Her heart sank. He was right, but dang it, it was her responsibility to take care of her daughter. Katie was happy, healthy and as safe as Amy could keep her.

  But that wasn’t enough, was it? Not nearly enough, and she knew it. She trembled and turned away, once again feeling like a terrible mother. When she next glanced over at Jace, he’d hidden the accusation in his eyes.

  “No. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think it’s time you left.”

  “What? Why?” He leaned back against the counter, entirely too comfortable in her place.

  “Just get out.” She pointed at the stairs. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

  “Hank’s right. You are good at pushing people away.” Jace took his time moving to the stairs. At the bottom he stopped. “Offer’s good as long as I’m in town. When you change your mind, come find me.” His boots clomped on each step, slow and deliberate.

  * * *

  “DON’T YOU JUST HATE to admit when a man’s right?” Caryn said from her perch at the coffee bar.

  Amy looked up from where she knelt beside the low shelves, and watched her friend nonchalantly sip her latte. Caryn didn’t bother to meet her eye, which was a good thing, as Amy glared at her.

  They’d been discussing Jace’s insane offer to remodel her kitchen. As she unpacked stock, she’d filled Caryn in. Even after two days, Amy felt her blood pressure rise just thinking about it, about him. She wasn’t sure what response she’d expected, but that wasn’t it.

  “What are you talking about?” She slammed a can of soup down on a shelf.

  “Oh, come on.” Her friend laughed. “He’s right. Admit it. You have the worst kitchen in the known universe.”

  Even when they were kids Caryn had been prone to exaggeration. This time, though, it wasn’t far from the truth. Amy didn’t even reply. Having it pointed out to her—repeatedly—didn’t help her mood.

  Another can slammed onto the shelf. Amy didn’t say anything until a
bright blue high heel came into her peripheral vision. “What?” she snapped.

  “Don’t get grumpy. Come on, take a break.”

  Amy looked up at Caryn. Her arms were crossed, a sure sign she wasn’t backing down. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “Fine.” Caryn plopped down on the floor beside her, leaning back against the full shelves. “We need to talk, Aim....”

  The use of the childhood nickname surprised Amy. She couldn’t remember when she’d last heard it. It made her long for the days when they’d hung out and just been kids together, none of this grown-up confusion to get in their way.

  “He’s not a horrible guy,” Caryn continued. “And what a deal. Your kitchen fixed and a very lovely show.” She winked suggestively and waggled her finely plucked eyebrows.

  Amy fought the laugh, but with Caryn it was hopeless.

  “Ha! Gotcha.”

  “Stop that.” Amy put up the rest of the soup, less loudly this time. “It’s just...” She didn’t even know how to explain what she was feeling when she didn’t understand it herself.

  “Just what?” Caryn prodded.

  “I don’t know. The apartment is my world. My space. I don’t mind the setup we have now.” Then a thought occurred to her. “It’s not a problem for you, is it? If you need me to find somewhere else—”

  “No. No. It’s not like that. You’re always welcome there. Now, stop it.” Caryn twisted to face her. “What are you afraid of?” she whispered.

  Amy’s head snapped up. “I’m not.”

  “Really? After all these years you’re going to try to lie to me? Your best friend? I’m shocked.”

  Caryn hid behind the humor, but Amy could see the disappointment in her eyes. They’d been friends too long. She tried again. “I don’t know him. I—”

  “You’re attracted to him.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Everything.” Caryn leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a brief second, then pinned Amy with a stare. “Even before you had Katie, you let guys intimidate you. Remember the crush you had on Marcus Finch? You could barely speak to him without stammering.”