Never Stopped Loving You (13 page)

She shook her head. “And I want time for the gossip to cool down. I just got back and you heard the women at the soft opening. I just went through it all over again at the ice cream shop this afternoon.”

“They’re just talking because you’re back. It’s the new thing in town.”

“And I want to be more than today’s gossip.”

He looked down and a heavy sigh seeped out of him. She started to reach out too, but pulled her hand back. Hands off and moving forward couldn’t include touching him. Even though it was killing her to watch him and the way his thumbs tapped on the counter. But then he lifted his head and he was smiling. She was certain there was something working behind that smile. Something deceptive. “All right, fine. I agree. Can we shake on it?”

Oh, dear. Yes, something definitely deceptive was at work in his head right now, but she’d started this. She liked it. It was a chance and the best one she’d come up with so far. She wouldn’t see it end now. She stretched her hand across the kitchen island and shook for one quick, businesslike shake.

Then he
whistled
as he left the kitchen.

Chapter Fourteen

Wade pulled the sheet of paper off his sister’s desk and looked at the numbers she’d calculated of acres and price point for corn. “Looks good.”

“Yep. While I hate it for those other farms who lost their crops under the floods, we’re going to be in a really good place between all our fields. The price of corn will go up and we have a good supply.”

He studied the sheet of proposed profits. For the past generation, the name Chester was synonymous with farming. While Wade liked the fields and the crops, his heart was with the equipment, and looking at price points was not his passion. He handed the sheet back. “Let’s go for it.”

She tapped a pencil on her desktop. “So.”

He looked up from the sheet of paper. “So?”

“The peach orchard, Wade. Really?”

“She told you about that?” He grinned and also inwardly groaned at the nonstop ache in his pants that had yet to be satisfied. He’d taken care of business solo in his barn after she’d gone to pick berries. It was either that or walk uncomfortably for days. It hadn’t been enough. He needed her. And soon, he’d have her. Very soon. Once they got over this hurdle she’d created. He had to believe that or he’d lose his mind otherwise.

He didn’t know what she thought he was after, where they might go, but it sounded an awful lot like she was imagining something quick, and he was thinking anything but. No, take that back. He could imagine something quick with her. Like against a wall in the house while Whitney was gone. Back in the orchard would be fine. Bend her over a chair in his barn for something quick too.

Whitney put her hands flat on the table. “Lord have mercy, Wade. I’ve never gotten into your sex life before, but this time—”

“I know, I know.” He sighed. “She’s your friend. Don’t screw it up. I got it. We’re good, though. We will be.” The only thing that had been missing from them before was chemistry. That wasn’t a problem anymore. Not with the way her cheeks colored and she fidgeted with her lower lip anytime he got close.

Whitney leveled a look at him. “This is my friend and I expect you to at least put her in a comfortable bed rather than on the ground with bugs, sticks and out where everyone could see. Take better care of her next time, Wade.”

He laughed. “It was early. You weren’t awake yet. No one was here.”

“Be careful. She’s trying really hard to clean her name up.”

His humor sobered. “I am. She wants to slow down, so we are. I am.”

“Good. I think that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think I’ve asked, but why are you giving her a second chance?”

Whitney looked at her lap. “She’s still my best friend.”

A scream echoed down the hall, followed by a thump that shattered the gentle smile off his sister’s face as she jumped from her chair. “Kara!”

The answer was another scream and Wade couldn’t help it, he chuckled. Whitney spun around and faced him. “What. Did. You. Do.”

He shrugged one shoulder, lifted his hands palm up. He was going to be in so much trouble, but hell, he had to. “She wanted us to go back the way we were. Before we dated way back then. I told her we’d try it so—”

“
WADE CHESTER!
” Kara’s footsteps pounded down the hall and she stepped in the office, her cheeks burnt red. Hands in fists against her hips. She looked wild. Unattainable. Not to mention pissed. He wanted her as she stared him down from across the room. “You asshole.”

He grinned. “It’s just a little grass snake, Kara.”

Whitney turned on him. “A snake?”

“In my pot!” She did a full-body shake. “Curled up inside. I picked up my pot, went to fill it with water and looked down to find a damn lime-green snake looking at me!”

He stood and headed for the kitchen. “It won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“It could have eaten me.”

He glanced over his shoulder and wasn’t able to stop the chuckle at the sight of her narrowed eyes and pouting lips. “Kara. It wouldn’t be able to get your pinky in its mouth. And I caught him some crickets and fed him before stashing it in there. He’s stuffed. Probably wouldn’t be able to eat a thing. You’re fine.”

She straightened, still pissed the hell off. “I am not fine. Get it out.”

For a passing moment he considered whether or not he’d gone too far. Then a laugh started up the back of his throat with the way she was looking at him. Color high across her cheeks. Anger smarting from her eyes. When another laugh threatened he shook his head and let that chuckle out. Definitely not too far. This was, after all, what she’d asked for. “I’m getting it.”

He reached in the pot and grasped the squirming, tiny snake and held it carefully in his hands. The tail wrapped around his wrist. The slim body squirmed in his palm. “Get the door.”

Kara and Whitney both backed up a step. He shook his head. Girls. He’d tried and tried to make them into tomboys over the years. Never did stick. If Whitney wasn’t groaning about stains on her dresses, Kara had whined about mud in her hair.

He managed to get the door open, walked back to the spot midway through the yard where he’d happened to catch the little guy shooting across the ground and released him. No sooner did he look up than the snake was gone.

He dusted his hands and returned inside. The second he stepped in, he was thwacked on the ass with something wide and rough, but not painful. He spun around and found Kara standing there with the broom. “What are you going to do with that?”

“If I have to, beat you with it so you won’t do that again.”

He eased back and leaned on the counter. Whitney had vanished from the room and he was thankful for it. Kara alone was the way he liked her the most. Her hands tended to shake. Lips were constantly caught between her teeth. There was no one else around for her to focus those nerves on. Just him. He could do without the broom, though. Not that it would stop him. Not any more than her canning the other morning had stopped him. “You wanted us to go back to those people we were before we dated. This is the kind of shit we did.”

Her hands twisted around the wooden handle of the broom. “You never put a snake near me before.”

Just a half dozen other things. “I didn’t want to repeat something and have you tell me I didn’t try hard enough.”

She moved the broom out from in between them and headed toward the wall with it. “You bring a snake near me again and I’ll hit you with the other end of this broom. And not on your butt either.”

He smiled and straightened from the counter, figuring now was safe. “You got it, shortcake.”

Standing so near, he could smell that special Kara scent coming from her neck. The same scent he also knew she carried between her breasts. He glanced from there to her face. To the desire and the need in her eyes.

She swallowed. “Thank you for getting it out of here. When I said I wanted to go back, that wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“You weren’t clear.”

“I’m being clear now.” Her head hung forward a bit and she rubbed her arms. “I want us to be friends, you know? For now. Give me time.”

No, he didn’t really know. When they were kids, Kara had been around the house. He couldn’t remember any one particular thing or another they’d done together. Occasionally they’d tossed a football while camping in the backyard with his parents. She’d attended some of his games from football to baseball. If Whitney dragged them together for a board game, she was there, or movie night, she often went with them. Everything he could remember doing with her included the rest of the family, or at least Whitney.

Apparently, though, there was something they’d had and he’d better figure it out and fast. Telling her he didn’t remember them being the greatest of friends probably wasn’t the smartest thing he could do.

Hair had fallen around her face and he combed it back with his fingers before she tossed it out of the way with a hard breath or stuffed the strands behind an ear with a jerk of her hands. “I’ll work on the friend thing.”

Her gaze moved down the front of him. Her eyes very clearly undressed him all the way to his toes and back up. The look on her face, her parted lips, spun through him. Heated his blood. Her mouth was only inches away and he could claim it in seconds. That’s not what she wanted, though. Not yet.

Unless he could change her mind. The short little pants seeping past her parted lips said he had a good chance of changing her mind too. “I’m thinking.”

“Probably not a good idea,” she managed to get out and then swallowed.

He smiled and soothed his thumb across her bottom lip. The purr that slid over her tongue was more than worth it. “We should find some sort of balance to this relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship. We’re in a friendship. Big difference.” Her words had grown breathy, weightless. Eyelids were falling and chin angled up.

“So I see.” Heart pounding in his chest, he lowered to her anyway, unable to resist the pout of her pinked lips. The sweet scent of strawberries on her breath or the warmth of her mouth.

When he sealed his lips to hers, she grabbed his shirt and his knees buckled. This was supposed to be something sweet and quick. Leave her thinking about other options, but hell, when it started at a devouring openmouthed kiss with her tongue immediately finding his, all he could do was grab her hips and hold on for the ride.

As much as he wanted, he knew better than to let this go on beyond a kiss. Knew better than to sweep his hands down and cup her ass to have her against him. To bring her against his length that was hard with wanting. Ah, but there was knowing better and then there was not being able to stop himself anyway. He squeezed her hips, arched her back to take as much as he could from her in the seconds remaining before he pulled away.

If this continued, if he did with her what he wanted, she’d regret it. He was learning that about Kara. The woman of the past would have gone after anything with hardly a dare. This woman would look eight times both ways before crossing a street.

He backed a step away, heading toward the doorway. “I have a few things to do today. Last minute cleanup on stuff. I’ll be out, so no worries on any other creepy crawlies today.”

“Wade.” Her voice shook. She swayed on her feet. He reached, but she leaned on the counter. “This is not slowing things down.”

“Not true.” He grinned. “I didn’t make it to third base like I did before.”

Before going back to her and putting her on that counter, dropping her shorts and having his mouth between her thighs, he left the room and headed out the front door.

Chapter Fifteen

Kara pulled the front door shut and stood on the porch to soak in the morning sun on her cheeks. When she’d gone in and out of her mom’s house before, that’d been it. Just in and out. Since she wasn’t escaping anymore, it was nice to not take two steps and then leap off the porch to get out of here. For almost a moment, she could imagine what life should have been like had Dad not left and her mom lost her mind.

She shook off the useless daydream and headed down the stairs. Aiden was by the fence again, peeking through the slats. Screw Maddy Booth. Kara wasn’t crazy like her mother. She rubbed the edges of the newspaper tucked under her arm and swallowed. She hoped. She could stay away from the boy as requested, but that didn’t mean she had to be a bitch and completely ignore the child too. She gave him a friendly wave. “Hi, Aiden.”

“Momma says I can’t talk to you no more because you’re crazy as your mom.”

“I...” Her heart crumpled. “I know.”

“I told her you weren’t. That you were nice and everything, but she said no. Ms. Ashley and Ms. Jeannie said I should stay away. That you may look nice, but not to forget what happened to Sue. And then!” His cheeks reddened. “Ms. Mary said you had feathers like your mom and I know you don’t have any feathers.”

“I...” She no longer had a stomach because it was just kicked out of her. She cleared her throat. “You better run along, Aiden. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

With that, the boy hopped across the yard like a rabbit to a sandbox. The newspaper under her arm crinkled and she jumped in her car and headed to Chester Farms. Her own little safe cubby hole where there wasn’t anyone gossiping about her.

At least not in front of her.

She climbed the back steps of Chester House and poured a cup of coffee. She rarely drank it but today she needed something to clean out her foggy brain. Give her the energy to wake her from the confusing dream—nightmare?—setting her spinning round and round.

A pile of strawberries waited in a basket for her by the sink. She looked between them and the newspaper.

Dwell on her old life or move forward?

She went for the berries, though she knew later she’d have to look at the paper. She was like a nail-biter with a new manicure with that newspaper.

After picking berries the other day, she’d gone with Whitney to town and with Tasha to the ice cream shop. She made her non-dating plan with Wade and really hadn’t gotten back to them since. Yesterday when she should have been in the kitchen, Wade had left that damn snake in the pot and that was it for the day on that.

She’d spent the rest of the afternoon first trying to update her website to match the new Chester Farms logo on her jars. Checked on orders and then sorted through her baskets, ribbons, flowers and hundreds of other little accents and designs. It all needed to be done and she’d made a lot of headway on it yesterday.

She’d even wrapped the day up dusting Mom’s old house. A good little reminder after that heart-stopping, awesome tongue-tangling kiss.

But today, back to business. All of that updating and maintaining yesterday was useless if there was no product. She strapped her apron on, put the strawberries in the sink and covered them with water.

Whitney was no doubt in her office or heading into town. Wade already said he’d be out for the day. Kara slipped her headphones on, clipped her music to her side and turned on a long, upbeat playlist. Anything to keep her moving and her mind clear of Wade.

And his touch.

And his scent.

The way her skin prickled all over when he watched her.

She shuddered, cranked the music up and got busy washing and slicing strawberries. The first batch of sugar filled the bottom of the pot; she added the berries and a hint of lemon juice and cranked up the burners.

Really, there wasn’t anything much better than making jam. It was sweet. Light. Tasty. Sugary. Sure, she did soups and such too. Vegetables as well, but jam was her favorite. Such an easy, no-fuss thing that could sweeten hundreds of things.

Perfect on biscuits and toast. Then there was oatmeal and crackers. Hors d’oeuvres if you got creative. Across the top of a simple sugar cookie or, on occasion, when a girl just needed something sweet, right off the spoon.

While the jam cooked, she moved into prepping her water bath. With her pot that’d had a surprise waiting for her yesterday. She inched close enough to lift on her toes and see through the glass lid and into the empty silver bottom.

She laughed, lifted the pot to the sink and filled it up for the bath to seal off the jars. As the pot went back on the stove, the jam mix was beginning to cook. It was the first of several batches she’d be spending the day on. And she wouldn’t spend her time thinking about Wade Chester, that was for sure.

She prepped all her jars and got to work, switching, moving. Then filling and starting the canning process. Washing up dishes. Cutting more berries and then putting another batch on to cook.

Rinse and repeat was the basic process. Some found it boring, but it was the creating Kara fell for. The structured patterns. And the simple steps so that when she was done, there was a perfect jar of strawberry jam that no store-bought product could compare to.

She packed up another full box, set it aside on the table and returned to washing her pot again, setting it up on the stove and slicing the last batch of berries. She added the berries, got the rest of the ingredients going and turned to the island to clean it up for the next set of empty jars. The pepper shaker was stuck in the center of the island instead. A small piece of paper stuffed under it.

She frowned and unfolded the square to reveal scratchy handwriting.

Last time I tapped you on the shoulder while you wore headphones
,
you fell down.
So I’m leaving this note instead.
Save me a jar of whatever you’re doing.
Smells great.
—
Wade.

P.S.
You hum and dance while you work.
Would dancing with me be considered a friendship thing or a relationship thing?

It was the silliest smile ever spreading across her face, she knew it was. She didn’t care. She tucked his note in her pocket and patted where it landed. Dancing with Wade. Even if it was innocent dancing, there would never be anything friendly about it. Her hands would be on his shoulders and she knew how her head would fit against the crook of his neck. That she would indeed keep her hips against the front of his and it would be the best dance she’d ever had.

She rubbed over the denim of her pocket. Dancing with Wade wouldn’t be the best idea. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist if the opportunity came up. It was pointless though. The conversation with Aiden earlier that morning went through her head. How could she ever fit in if half the town was afraid she was on the verge of going crazy? Some days, Kara could almost agree with them.

Or was that Maddy just being Maddy with her friends? Did everyone think like her? Best not to make any waves in town until she could find out.

At the end of the afternoon, Kara washed all her dishes, cleaned the water stains off the last batch of lids. Thirty jelly-size jars of strawberry jam were canned and packed out of the way while they cooled. All they waited on was the new Chester Farms label and these were ready. With the strawberry and the jalapeño, she could even make up a sample basket to show as mix-’n’-match options this weekend.

She tossed her rag in the sink as Whitney’s and Tasha’s voices carried through the front of the house. She pulled off her apron and started for them, but they stepped in the kitchen instead.

“Wow.” Tasha walked forward and glanced at the row of jars Kara had just pulled out of the water bath, too hot to box yet. “You’ve been busy.”

Kara grinned. “Strawberry jam.”

“How...domestic. And it’s hot still.”

Whitney laughed. “That’s Kara for you, but I guarantee you it is
delicious.
” Whitney groaned as she stared into the maroon jam with parts of whole berries pressed to the side of the glass. “Lord, I haven’t had this in forever.”

Kara smiled, grabbed one of the cooled jars and pried the lid off with a spoon. “Here you go.”

Whitney squealed, took a spoon and dug in. At Tasha’s throat clearing, Kara grabbed another spoon and handed it over.

“You two are ridiculous. And I’ve hope you had supper or you’re both going to be sick to your stomach.”

Tasha was moaning and pointing at the jar. “Oh my God. It’s like sugar fruit soup. Only firmer. Do you have any pound cake?”

Whitney’s eyes lifted and landed on Kara’s. She blinked several times and Kara shook her head. “Fine, but give me the jar first.”

They each dug for another spoonful and handed the jar back. Kara slipped it in the refrigerator and traded it for butter and milk. “Have you had supper?”

Whitney grinned and slid on the table. “I think you’re making it.”

“You’re going to eat cake and jelly?”

Tasha glanced to Whitney, then back to Kara. “Hell yeah.” Tasha winced. “You’re not using the pan the snake was in, are you?”

A full-body shake went through Kara. “No. That pot has been scrubbed within an inch of its life.”

She went after eggs, flour, sugar and vanilla, the rest of the ingredients, and stretched them across the counter.

“If Patrick did that to me, he’d be buried in the yard somewhere.”

She laughed. “At the moment, I was close to getting a shovel.”

Whitney got up and grabbed some glasses. “Have you decided on revenge?”

“Ohh!” Tasha rubbed her hands together.

Kara shook her head. She’d considered it, but didn’t really want to go through something like a snake again. When it came to pranks and one-upping each other, Wade was always in the lead there. And while it wasn’t spoken, she was pretty sure they’d agreed on a truce. “I wasn’t planning on it. He’ll just retaliate with something worse.”

“Chicken.” Whitney sat back down with glasses of water and then flapped her arms in classic chicken-dance moves. “Come on, we need to think of something good.”

“Something that’ll equally terrify him.”

“Or piss him off.”

The two continued on with making plans, but Kara wasn’t having it. It was dangerous work to play with Wade and she was barely hanging on as it was. Instead she let the girls dream out their fantasies and plans for Wade. Kara focused on her cake, the only thing she’d be getting her hands in tonight.

She mixed up her dry ingredients and put her eggs in the beater and let them go for a few minutes. After all that was done, she was helpless but to be drawn back into their revenge plot.

Tasha made the motion of pushing her sleeves up, even though she wore a spaghetti-strap shirt. Things were likely about to get serious. As serious as it could, anyway, with two people plotting pranks.

Tasha slapped the table top. “Put Saran wrap over the toilet!”

Kara shook her head. “That’s more of a prank you pull on a girl. Wade will see it when he lifts the lid up.”

Tasha stared into her glass. “Oh. True.”

Whitney tapped her glass on the counter. “I can’t think of anything he’s afraid of. He’s one of those annoyingly stupid boys who aren’t afraid of anything.”

Kara only smiled, poured the batter into a pan and popped it in the oven. “I’m not sure teasing him is the best idea anyway.”

Pranking him was a dangerous line to be walking. It would force them close together again. Probably while they laughed. And he’d have that Wade look on his face with those dreamy eyes that were humored by whatever pathetic attempt she could manage to pull. Yeah, probably shouldn’t prank him. Like she probably shouldn’t dance with him if that option came up. Oh, boy. She had a feeling where this idea to leave him alone would end up.

Whitney waved her off. “Nope. We’re pranking him. You’re going to take the blame and we’re all going to get a good laugh.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Whitney studied her. “What’s wrong with you? You’re always up for a prank.”

She tapped on the top. “I talked to Aiden today. This morning. He told me he’s not allowed to talk to me anymore because I’m as crazy as my mom.”

“What?” Whitney grunted.

Tasha crossed her hands under her chest. “I hate that bitch.”

“By what he said, Ashley, Jeannie and Mary thought the same. I guess they were all talking with him.”

“Ashley Carter?” Whitney asked and Kara only shrugged. “Has to be. That two-faced lying piece. I ran into her in the grocery store and she said she was glad to hear you’d come home. Don’t listen to that trash. They’re jealous.”

“Of what?”

Whitney glanced to Tasha and then back to her. “Of you. You’re competition and Wade is one of the last few men left in this small town and he’s rich.”

Tasha nodded. “Yep. And hot too.”

Whitney shook her head. “Whatever is said about your past is gonna come from there because she’s an asshole. Most everybody knows that anyway.”

But what about the rest? Kara gripped the edge of the counter and faced her friend. It was time to find out the truth. “What happened to Sue? You said she got hurt.”

Whitney’s gaze moved to Tasha and then back on her. “Your mom threw a dozen roses in a vase at her head.”

Tasha winced. “And knocked her out.”

“She had a nasty cut on her forehead and when the light catches it, you can see the scar under her makeup.”

“Oh God.” Her stomach flipped upside down. By the way the room spun, so did her brain.

Whitney reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “But none of that is your fault. You weren’t even here!”

“But I went crazy for two months before I left and they all think I’ll turn into her.” A fear Kara shared at times. How different had she been from her mom for those two months? She’d dreamed of what she wanted. Plotted ways to get it done. Dumped her friends. Turned her back on everything in a headstrong attempt to get what she wanted. All that was the very definition of her mom.

What would it take for her to be thrown into another situation where she got so focused on dreaming about what she wanted that she lost all touch with reality? And truly become just like her mom. Not skirt the line. Not flirt with the line. But actually cross that line and become the mirror image of her mom lost in her mind to her wants and desires.