Sweet Haven

by Shirlee McCoy

  He had finally had all he could take of it.

  He’d set fire to the outhouse.

  It had burned way more quickly than he’d imagined it would, and his grandfather had been way angrier than Sinclair had expected. If Jax hadn’t stepped in and sworn that he’d accidently set the outhouse on fire while smoking a cigarette, Sinclair would have been shipped away.

  Which wouldn’t have been a bad option if he hadn’t been afraid to leave Gavin alone in that rattrap of a house. “You’re calling that debt in now?” he asked.

  “You going to refuse to pay it? Because we’re standing here in this parking lot, and I did get a call about a trespasser. Seems to me, I could cart you in . . . ask you a bunch of questions that would waste time for both of us.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Probably not.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, rocked back on his heels. “But you do owe me, and I’m pretty desperate to get my aunt and uncle to stop worrying about my life.”

  “What’s to worry about? You’re living in their hometown, in their basement, and—”

  “Hold it!” Jax raised a hand. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not living in their basement. I’ve got my own place. Little Victorian on Monroe. Used to be Mary Pickford’s place.”

  “The old witch with a million cats?” He remembered the house as much as he’d remembered the woman who used to scream at them to stay on the sidewalk. A two-story Victorian that sat on a double lot at the corner of Monroe and Second Avenue, the place had smelled of cat piss and tuna, and so had the woman who’d owned it.

  “Mary died six years ago. I got the place for a steal because it had been empty for so long.”

  “Empty because it’s nearly impossible to get the smell of cat piss out of floors and walls.” Sinclair had been tasked with doing it on more than one occasion and had had to rip out drywall, pull up floorboards, and basically gut every house that required it.

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Jax agreed. “It took me a month to replace all the floors and replaster the walls. So, you coming to dinner tomorrow or not?”

  “You haven’t given me much of a choice.”

  “We always have choices, Sinclair. Just matters what we do with them. So, you coming? I’ll need to tell Vera if you are.”

  “I’ll come,” he conceded, because he liked Vera and Jim, and he should have visited them long before now. He guessed he’d forgotten how much they’d done for him, how many times they’d sent home food or offered a quiet place to study after school.

  He hadn’t wanted their charity, but they hadn’t made it seem like that’s what they were offering.

  “Good. She serves dinner at six. On the dot. Bring Adeline with you, if you want.”

  “Adeline?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Sinclair. There’s not a red-blooded man in this town who doesn’t know who she is.”

  “I’m not playing dumb. I’m wondering why you want me to bring my landlord’s granddaughter to Vera’s.”

  “Because she’s gorgeous?”

  “And?”

  “And, I’m thinking this might not be a bad time to start getting back in the dating game.”

  Jax might be thinking that, but Sinclair was thinking he might want to wait a little longer. Adeline deserved to be more than a rebound relationship. “Since when are you a game player?”

  “Turn of phrase, Sinclair,” he responded easily, his gaze drifting to the Corvette. “You were looking in the Corvette. Ryder was sure you were planning to steal it.”

  “I was looking for the owner.”

  “You want to make him an offer? It’s a pretty sweet ride.”

  “I want to talk to him.”

  “About?”

  “Nothing in particular. I’m just curious.”

  “I can tell you this. His name is Chase Lyons. Eighteen. From Houston. No record. Not even a speeding ticket. Got named to the two-year-college honor society last year. Had a write-up in a Houston paper.”

  “You’ve spoken with him?”

  “Ran the plates. Did a little research. I like to know who’s hanging around town. Not that there’s been any complaints about him. He’s applied for a couple of jobs, but other than that, he keeps to himself.”

  “How long has he been here?”

  “Three weeks. Maybe four.”

  “That’s a long time to be living in his car.”

  “Who told you he was living in the car?”

  “That was the impression Adeline got when he applied for a job.”

  “I think he’s staying in one of the outbuildings. There are half a dozen of them on the property, and I don’t think Ryder checks them more than once a year. I’ve thought about looking, but I call attention to what the kid is doing and he’ll end up having to pay Ryder for using a building that has no heat, no water, and no comfortable place to sleep. Since he doesn’t have the cash, I’ve just left things alone. I have been looking for him around town, though. I figured I’d offer him a loan or a place to crash while he earns the money he needs. Vera and Jim could sure use a little help around the house. Unfortunately, the kid is as elusive as hell. I’ve only seen him once, and when he saw me, he headed in the other direction.”

  “You think he has something to hide?”

  “As long as there’s no warrant out on him and he stays out of trouble, I don’t care.”

  “If you want to talk to him, I know where you’ll be able to find him. He starts working at Chocolate Haven tomorrow.”

  “Good to know, and a good excuse to stop by and say hello to Adeline. She sure has grown up a lot since our high school days.” He walked back to his cruiser, opened the passenger door. “Climb in. I’ll give you a ride back to town.”

  Sinclair had planned to finish his run, but he thought his time might be better spent reconnecting with Jax. Especially since Jax seemed intent on connecting with Adeline.

  She needed a date to May’s wedding, and Jax was looking for someone to hook up with. It shouldn’t have mattered to Sinclair one way or another, but it did.

  He got in the car, fastened his seat belt, answered a few dozen questions about his career, and asked a lot more about Jax’s. It was like old times, only better because they both had their lives heading in the direction they wanted. Jax seemed about as happy as a clam to be back in Benevolence working for the sheriff’s department. He substituted at the high school, taught self-defense classes at the community center. He was, Sinclair thought, everything he’d planned to be when they were growing up.

  Which was great for him, and would be great for Adeline.

  She deserved someone like Jax. Someone focused and determined and who loved the town as much as she did.

  Sinclair still didn’t like the idea, but then, if he let himself, he could picture the hollow of her throat, the way her pulse thrummed there. He could still feel the warmth of her skin, the silky smoothness of her hair.

  Yeah. If he let himself, he could think of a dozen reasons why Jax and Adeline shouldn’t go out.

  But the only real reason was that he wanted to be the one to ask her. He wanted to be the one picking her up at her house, touching her lower spine as they walked to his truck.

  Jax turned into Chocolate Haven’s back lot, pulled up in front of the door. “All right, man. See you tomorrow.”

  “See you then.” He got out of the car, frowning when he realized there was a light shining from the apartment again. “Damn,” he muttered. “I can’t be getting that forgetful.”

  “What’s wrong?” Jax leaned across the seat, eyeing the building.

  “This is the second time I left the apartment dark and came back to the lights being on.”

  “You think someone is in there?”

  “No, but I’d like to know why that light keeps going on.” He headed toward the stairs and wasn’t surprised when he heard the cruiser door open and close.

  Jax walked up the stairs behind him.

  It seemed a little like old ti
mes and felt an awful lot like being home.

  Chapter Nine

  Lack of sleep did funny things to people. Like making them want to shove a dozen chocolate bonbons down the gaping cleavage of Millicent Montgomery. Which was exactly what Addie wanted to do.

  She gritted her teeth instead, replacing the half dozen dark-chocolate caramels Millicent had said she wanted and taking out the newly requested vanilla creams. It was the fifth change in as many minutes, and Addie was about ready to blow a fuse.

  She didn’t want the forty-year-old to know it.

  Letting her impatience get the best of her wasn’t going to keep Chocolate Haven in business.

  But Millicent had married well. Twice. She had the money to prove it. In her opinion, that made her a little better than the rest of the town. That, also in Millicent’s opinion, gave her license to be picky, demanding, and a general pain in the butt.

  “You do have the best chocolate in the state, but I much prefer it when Byron is here,” Millicent said, her breasts heaving beneath a corseted top that was pulled so tight, Addie was surprised the implants beneath it didn’t pop.

  Poor Chase stood a couple of feet away, his face deep red, his gaze averted. First he’d been chastised for not switching out Millicent’s chocolate choices fast enough. Now he was being treated to a generous view of the woman’s over-inflated and tanned boobs.

  His mother had raised him right. He kept his eyes down as he tried to help Addie pull the new requests. He was fumbling for the chocolates, though, and managed to drop two on the floor.

  “Maybe,” Addie said as she placed the last chocolate in the box, “you should wait to come in again until Byron returns.”

  “Humph!” Millicent replied. “Is that any way to run a business? Being rude to a customer?”

  “I’m not being rude. I’m just making a suggestion.” And wishing like heck that Millicent would wait to return when Byron was back. She wouldn’t. The woman loved chocolate more than she’d loved either of her husbands.

  “I don’t need a suggestion. I know exactly what I want.” Millicent frowned, leaning toward the display case, her cleavage as deep and dark as an ocean trench. “Although . . .”

  Great! Here we go again!

  Addie thought she heard Chase groan.

  “Maybe you can switch out a few of those and give me chocolate mint bars instead.”

  “I’ll do it,” Chase said quickly, probably sensing how close Addie was to telling Millicent where she could shove her pound of chocolates.

  He took the box from her hands, his face still red, his hands steady as he exchanged chocolates, each one set into the box just exactly right.

  Of course.

  Addie had been working with him for three days, and she’d discovered that he was a quick learner—bonbon making, chocolate tempering—everything she taught him, he soaked up like a sponge. She’d also learned that he held himself to a very high standard. He didn’t like making mistakes. A shame, because that was the quickest way to learn. She didn’t know him well enough to say that, so she’d just let him work slowly through every task. The process may have been more challenging for Addie than it was for him. She had that list hanging on the wall in the kitchen, mocking her with all the things that needed to be done in the next few days, and she could have rolled bonbons in cocoa powder sixteen times faster than Chase.

  “I’m not sure how I feel about this,” Millicent said as she watched Chase.

  “Feel about what?” Addie asked, the words coming out just a little sharper than she’d intended. She’d spent half the night sewing the blasted zipper into the horrid dress. She’d finally managed to finish at two in the morning. There were a couple little buckles in the fabric, a few tiny little runs in the glossy sheen. She just hoped to God that May didn’t notice.

  “You having your hired help fill orders for me. If you’re unhappy serving me, Adeline”—Millicent huffed, her breasts nearly spilling out—“I can take my business somewhere else.”

  “There’s a Rite Aid in the next town over,” Chase volunteered. “They sell chocolate.”

  Millicent speared him with a look that could have made a grown man cry. His cheeks were still red, his gaze firmly planted on her face, but Chase didn’t look intimidated.

  “If I wanted drug store chocolate, I could have gone to the five-and-dime. I was in the mood for something more decadent, something richer.” She rolled her R, and Chase smirked.

  Millicent scowled.

  “Millicent,” Addie bit out, “do you want to add anything to your order?”

  “I’m not even sure I want the chocolate at this point.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Really, Adeline, Byron would never treat a customer like this.”

  “Byron isn’t here.” The words just slipped out, and Millicent stiffened.

  “Young lady, you don’t have to be rude.”

  “I’m not being rude. I’m being honest.”

  “It is not working to your advantage today. I was going to take another dozen chocolates, but I guess I’ll make do with what you’ve packed, because I just really do not have time for people’s disrespect.”

  Neither did Addie, but she kept her big mouth shut, closed the lid of the chocolate box, and used the big gold sticker to seal it closed.

  “Here you are,” she said, and Millicent snatched it from her hand, dropped a twenty onto the counter, and left.

  “Six-dollar-and-fifty-four-cent tip,” Chase said.

  Addie rang the order up, took the change from the cash register, and handed it to him. “You’re quick with the numbers, Chase.”

  “I love math. I also love science and English. I guess I’m a school geek.” He smiled, but he didn’t look happy. He looked exhausted, his face pale, his eyes shadowed.

  “You know, Chase, I’ve got a spare room at my place. It’s not going to be used until my grandfather is released from the hospital. Maybe the end of next week. You could stay there until he does, and then we can either clean out my attic and make a room for you there, or you could sleep on the couch until you’re able to get your car fixed.”

  He looked surprised and a little terrified, his gaze shifting away for a moment before settling on her again.

  She counted to five, counted to five again, and he still hadn’t responded. “It’s not a trick question, Chase, and you’re not going to get fired if you say no. I just hate to think of you sleeping outside or in that tiny car of yours.”

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer, I just . . .” He shook his head. “It’s better if I just keep doing what I’m doing.”

  “Well, you know the offer stands. Anytime you want to take me up on it, you can.”

  He nodded, his lips pressed tightly together, his eyes lowered.

  There was something going on.

  She hadn’t been able to put her finger on it, but he wasn’t being completely upfront about where he was going at night, what he was doing after the shop closed. Sinclair insisted that he hadn’t been sleeping in the ’Vette. He’d been out there a couple times, and had never seen Chase there.

  Adeline thought she should probably be worried about that, but she wasn’t. Chase was punctual, industrious, and focused. He also liked to eat. Not the chocolate that she offered every day, the snacks that she brought. The first day, she’d offered him pretzels. He’d taken both the snack-sized bags she’d given him, devouring them so quickly that she’d offered him another. The second day, she’d brought a dozen sandwiches, chips, and two boxes of granola bars. He’d eaten two of the sandwiches and then sheepishly asked if he could take a couple when he left for the day.

  He obviously hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was out of money. The kid ate like a starving man, probably because he was starving. His jeans hung from narrow hips, his button-down shirt bagging around his shoulders. She wanted nothing more than to put a little meat on his bones and a smile on his face.

  She’d held out the tip, but he pushed it away.
>
  “I didn’t earn it.”

  She stuffed it into his shirt pocket. “Anyone who can put up with Millicent deserves way more than this.”

  “You put up with her.”

  “I get paid more than you.” Not exactly the truth. She wasn’t getting paid anything. All the checks that Byron insisted on writing her were being put through the office shredder.

  “No, you don’t.” His comment surprised her, and she looked up from the bonbons that she was repositioning in the case.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I saw you put the check through the shredder yesterday.”

  “Just because I don’t take the money, doesn’t mean I’m not being paid.”

  “And just because I put up with someone for five minutes, doesn’t mean I get to take this money.” He took it from his pocket and slid it into the tip jar on the counter.

  “Look, Chase—”

  “More customers coming,” he said, nodding toward the door. “Looks like that police officer. You want to handle it or should I?”

  “I’ll handle it if you’ll pull that taffy we started,” she said, mostly because she was sick to death of making candy. She and Chase had filled twenty Internet orders in the past two days. They’d filled the display cases, helped twenty second-graders roll bonbons, made three dozen blue lollipops for Dixie Walker’s baby gender-reveal party.

  Chase didn’t seem to be tired of the process yet, but she sure as heck was.

  Chase hurried into the kitchen, disappearing a couple of seconds before the door opened and Jax Gordon walked in.

  “Morning, Addie,” he called as he sauntered to the counter.

  And sauntered was exactly how she’d describe it. He had more confidence than anyone had a right to. He was also one of the nicest guys Addie had ever met.

  “Good morning, Jax. No work today?”

  “What clued you in? The jeans, or the T-shirt and flannel jacket?”

  “The lack of gun belt and firearm.”

  “It’s my day off. I’m helping Jim put down a new tile floor and thought I’d pick up some chocolates for Vera before I headed over there.”

  “What do you think she’d like?”