Authors: Kat Attalla
"So you agree. She's hiding out here. She's running away from something."
"Aren't we all, Jake?"
Trevor's pointed question lingered in Jake's mind as he went back to the house. He could rename his farm "The Sanctuary." His mother brought him and Trevor there after their father went to prison for the first time. Jake returned after his ex-wife, Libby walked out, leaving him with a five-year-old child. Even Trevor, who swore he'd never return once he left, had come back.
But Trevor only tolerated the farm in small doses. Jake sensed the restlessness in his brother. In another few months, when Trevor got his driver's license back, nothing would keep him from returning to the city. Especially now that he’d rented his house. Since Kate paid up front, Trevor paid off the last of the money he'd borrowed.
That left Kate. Did it really matter why she came? Shouldn't she be entitled to the same privacy that he himself wanted? Not much remained secret in a small town like Tannersville, but for as long as it did, she deserved some measure of peace.
He used Chloe as an excuse. He convinced himself that he wanted to shelter her from being hurt when Kate eventually left. People would come and go for most of her life, and Chloe would have to accept that fact. The problem wasn't Kate, but him. Did he want to have any kind of a relationship with her, knowing that one day she might walk out of his life?
A long overdue night out would make things clearer. He didn't have to worry about Chloe being alone. If she had a problem, Kate would be right next door. He needed some male bonding. Sitting around with a bunch of guys, lying about how he didn’t need a woman, would put things back in perspective.
* * *
"I think you lied to me, Chloe. You're the one who loves chocolate cake."
Kate pushed at the greedy fingers that reached for more icing. While they were at the market, she tried to come up with an idea on how to repay Jake for his missed day of work. She knew he wouldn't accept money, but he wouldn't refuse a cake. Chloe helpfully assured her that both Jake and Trevor shared a passion for chocolate cake.
When they returned to the farm, Jake had gone out. He pinned a note for Chloe on the door, telling his daughter he would be back early and not bother Kate except for an emergency.
“Chocolate cake is an emergency. My dad will agree with me,” Chloe promised. "It's in the genes, Kate."
"It's all over your jeans. I swear you're worse than a two-year-old. Get your hand out. It's almost done."
Chloe flopped down into the kitchen chair and huffed. "But I won't get a piece until after the Terrible Two get to it. It'll be gone before I get a taste."
Kate laughed. "The Terrible Two?"
Chloe chewed on her bottom lip. "That's what half the town calls them. Or the Crazy Callahans. You're not afraid of them, are you, Kate?"
"No," she assured Chloe, because it seemed so important to the young girl. Kate couldn't imagine anyone being afraid of Trevor. And Jake? He could be obnoxious, but basically harmless.
At least she hoped so. She would know in another two minutes. He parked his truck in the driveway across the road and headed in the direction of his house.
"Over here, Dad," Chloe yelled out the kitchen window.
He slipped his hands in the pockets of his Levi's and strode across the lawn. Chloe greeted him at the door and invited him in as if she owned the place. Jake, having better manners, waited for Kate to extend the invitation, too.
"I thought I told you not to bother her," he whispered in a not so hushed voice.
"It's no bother," Kate whispered back. "Besides, she said you consider chocolate cake an emergency of monumental proportions."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed, eyeing the gooey confection as if it were an oasis in a vast wasteland.
"Then come in and close the door before you let all the flies in."
"It's late..." He glanced at his watch and back at the cake on the kitchen table. "Well, maybe just a minute." He entered and slipped into the chair next to his daughter.
Kate felt at a disadvantage having Jake in her kitchen. She had just begun to feel comfortable here, and his presence reminded her that she shouldn't get too attached to a home she would never own.
"Milk or coffee?" she asked as she pulled the plates down from the cabinet.
"Milk," both Callahans answered.
She tapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Of course. What was I thinking?"
She poured two glasses of milk and cut two large slices of the cake. Chloe dove in with her fingers until Jake kicked her under the table. Etiquette remembered, she took a fork.
"What do you think, Dad? Isn't it better than sex?"
Jake choked. His blue eyes rounded like two Ping-Pong balls about to pop, and his face turned as red as his flannel shirt.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he finally managed to get out of his mouth.
Chloe handed him the empty box of unsweetened chocolate. "That's the name of the cake. The recipe is right on the chocolate box. See? Better than Sex Cake. I asked Kate, but she said she couldn't remember."
Kate lowered her head and sighed. She knew she should have chosen the Death by Chocolate Cake instead. It might not have tasted as good, but she would have spared herself the ultimate humiliation.
Jake read over the recipe, gazing at Kate. "I'm not sure I remember either, Chloe."
"I'll just have to wait and ask Uncle Trevor. He'll tell me the truth." Chloe cleared her plate and put it in the sink. "Well, I'm tired. See you tomorrow. So long, Dad. I'll leave the door open."
"Chloe, wait..." Kate's voice trailed off when she saw Chloe covering her ears. The sneaky little brat was as bad as her uncle. She’d thought that daughterly pride had Chloe talking about her father all evening, but it was more of that Irish matchmaking. She needed to have a serious talk with that young lady tomorrow.
Kate watched from the window until Chloe went into the house. Her stalling tactic didn't buy her much time to gather her courage. Being alone with Jake made her feel like an awkward teenager on her first date.
You're being ridiculous. He's just a man . . . drinking a glass of milk, for goodness' sake. She rested against the doorframe and exhaled slowly. And he is a fine example of how milk does a body good.
Stop that, she scolded the little devil breathing heavily in her ear.
"Could you sit down, Kate? You're making me dizzy trying to follow your eyes around the room. I thought it might be nice to talk to you."
She lowered herself into the chair that Chloe had vacated. "About what?"
"The price of tea? How the hell would I know? You invited me in. And while this is one mighty fine cake you baked, I'm not sure that I'd consider it better than sex. However, it is all I'm likely to get tonight, so I'd like to take it very slow and enjoy every delicious moment while gazing into your gorgeous eyes."
Where was her alter ego when she needed it most? Leather could better handle this kind of situation, with her outrageous antics and her brash, flippant style. "Are you trying to make me blush?"
He swallowed down the last bite with a large gulp of milk and leaned back in his seat. "I'd say I'm succeeding. You sure do embarrass easy for a big-city girl."
"Do you know a lot about New York women?"
The temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. Jake's entire body went rigid and he leaned in closer to her, readying himself to charge at any moving target. What had she said?
"I know Chloe's mother wanted to be one so bad that she ran off and left her own daughter. Not a call or a card in ten years. How does a woman do that?"
Kate couldn't answer the bitter charge. She knew she could never walk out on a child. It damn near killed her when she lost Kelly, and that hadn't been by choice.
He stared at her as if he thought she held some kind of answers for him. How could she explain what she didn't understand? "I'm sorry, Jake. I don't know what you want me to say."
* * *
Jake rocked back in his chair. What did he want her to say? Why had he even brought it up? Had he expected her to defend the woman's side so he could lace into her with righteous fury? He had something he wanted to get off his chest, only Kate wouldn't oblige him with a fight.
He’d never gotten the opportunity to tell Libby what she had done to Chloe by abandoning her. Libby selfishly destroyed the confidence of a five-year-old child and broke her heart, not to mention his own.
Would history repeat itself? "Chloe is getting attached to you."
Very methodically, she stacked the dishes. "Is that what all this is about? Are you angry because she came over here while you were out?"
"No. I figured she would."
"Then what’s the problem?"
"Make sure you tell her when you're leaving. Don't just disappear when you get tired of this place." You coward. He used Chloe because he didn't want to face the truth. His daughter wasn't the only one forming an attachment to their mysterious next-door neighbor.
"I don't pull vanishing acts. I'm a musician, not a magician." She lifted the dishes from the table and dropped them in the sink. Forks and plates crashed together, and she checked to see that nothing broke. "Big jerk," he heard her mutter under her breath.
"Look, Kate," he said, taking hold of her wrist as she passed him. "I just don't want to see her hurt again."
"Why are you so sure I'm going to leave?"
"Unless you don't plan to venture off the farm, you're going to hear a lot of bad things about our family in town that your pretty little ears might not like."
"Any of it true?"
He searched her face for a sign of fear. "Some."
"Good enough for the National Tattler!"
"Pardon me?"
"It can't be truly shocking unless it made the front page of the National Tattler. Who knows? I might have lined my bird's cage with your family history once."
He drew his brows together. "Are you mocking me?"
"Teasing," she amended. "It's just that you're the third person in your family to warn me. I don't listen to what people say. You're going to have to find another way to get rid of me."
She would be a rare woman indeed if she didn't listen to gossip. In Tannersville gossip was the lifeblood of the community, and his family alone had caused many a feeding frenzy.
He rose, still holding her soft hand in his own. "I don't want to get rid of you, Kate. I want to figure out who you are."
"You know who I am. You helped me get my New Mexico driver's license today."
If she had nothing to hide, why did she refuse to meet his eyes? Why did her color pale and her lips suddenly become dry? "I'm sure there's more to it than that, and I mean to figure it out, Kate."
"All right. I confess. I'm a space alien, here to gather data on the paranoid delusions of male humans. And you," she said, poking her finger into his shoulder, "are the finest specimen I have come across to date."
"You mean you're not a spy here to seduce me out of my secrets of high-tech farming?"
She shrugged. "Hey, Jake. This is your little fantasy. Whatever you say is okay with me."
"My fantasy?"
"Yeah."
"Then I get to end it however I want?"
"Sure." Little did Kate realize, his fantasy was about to get tangled up in her reality.
Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. He slipped his hands into her back pockets, cupping her firm, round buttocks. Inching her closer became a juvenile game of tug-of-war, a battle of wills with neither one in doubt of the outcome.
As their bodies meshed together, she rested her palms on his chest. She smelled of chocolate, and he knew right then that the Better than Sex Cake would be, at best, a poor second to her. She fit him so well. Like two intricate carvings from one piece of wood that apart were unrelated, but together were whole.
He reached back and pulled the elastic band from her ponytail. The strands of hair felt like silk against his callused fingers.
Her huge gold eyes stared up at him, waiting, wondering what his next move would be. Unable to tease her any longer, he lowered his head.