Authors: Dawn Atkins
“Hang tough. Cara will surface. It’s impossible to truly
disappear these days. She’ll make a mistake and we’ll catch her. Don’t
worry.”
Easy for Malloy to say. Barrett needed Cara and Beth Ann like
life itself. In fact, he woke at night gasping for air, still in prison until he
was reunited with them. He wanted it to be how it had been at first, when Cara
was sweet and eager to please. She’d needed him and he’d wanted to give her the
world. When Beth Ann was born—their love made flesh—it had been perfect.
Until Beth Ann started school and Cara got bored and confused.
He’d been too busy at work to catch the signs in time, but he’d learned his
lesson. This time he’d have clear priorities and so would she.
Barrett was willing to forgive Cara for all of it—for putting
him in prison, for turning his daughter against him, even for this betrayal,
running away.
If he could do that, she could surely forgive him his part in
the accident—his one mistake.
Forgiveness was the answer. Forgiveness would make them whole
again.
If he knew Cara at all, she wanted what he did—to have their
happy family back. And he did know her—better than she knew herself. This was
his chance to prove it.
* * *
T
HE
NEXT
EVENING
, the breeze lifted Cara’s hair from her forehead, but it
didn’t cool her one bit as she crossed the gravel yard toward Jonah’s trailer
carrying the plate of good-luck buns she wanted him to try.
It wasn’t the summer heat that made sweat trickle down her
face, her ribs and the backs of her legs.
She was
nervous.
It wasn’t her
errand—to tell him she’d be staying the summer and her plans for the café—it was
that she’d never been to his place before. Cara had taken extra care getting
dressed tonight, without admitting to herself why, donning a red-silk tank and
white denim skirt, earrings and full makeup. She’d even curled her hair, as if
she were going to a party…
or out on a date.
So stupid. What on earth would Jonah think?
Already, he would think her insanely ambitious with his aunt’s
café. Rosie had made her promise not to mention the foreclosure either.
The strings of white lights on Jonah’s deck were bright against
the newly darkened sky. Red geraniums in barrels and the homey wood furniture
softened the futuristic effect of the silver trailer.
At the door, Cara paused to breathe in the smell of pines mixed
with the warm yeasty aroma of the buns, which she’d wrapped in plastic and
placed on one of Rosie’s decorative plates, covered with baby chicks popping out
of eggs. Wooden wind chimes clinked like a quiet xylophone.
It was some seconds before Jonah responded to her tap on his
door. She saw that he’d come from the shower, and the sight of him nearly took
her breath away. He wore a towel around his hips, and water gleamed from his
bare chest, his hair wet and tousled. He smelled of a fresh application of that
woodsy spice of his, and it hit her so hard, her knees gave way like a girl with
her first crush.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
It took a second for her to respond. “Oh. Uh. Bringing you
these.” She thrust the plate of buns at him.
“Thanks.” He started to close the door.
“Wait. Can I come in?” Her face burned.
“Oh. Sure. Dressed like that, I figured you were going
somewhere.” He looked her up and down.
Cara flushed even hotter. “Just to see you.”
And be alone with you in your tiny trailer barely big enough
for a bed. Ulp.
“Come in then.” He held the door as she passed, looking her
over again, making her tingle everywhere his gaze landed.
They had no choice but to stand close together in the small
space. The low ceiling made Jonah seem larger than ever beside her. He was
barely dressed, the towel hanging so low it seemed about to drop. Desire
swooshed through her on its familiar path, setting off little fires here and
there.
Jonah swayed, possibly feeling it, too. He cleared his throat.
“I’ll put some clothes on.” He set the plate of buns on the small table that
divided the tiny kitchen from the main room, then tromped down the short
hall.
“I’ll wait here,” she called, long seconds too late.
When he turned toward her to close the curtain that marked off
the bedroom, she caught sight of his bed.
Where he slept.
Naked?
Cara wished she had a glass of water. All the moisture in her
mouth was gone. Maybe turned into the sweat that had made her top stick to her
stomach. She pulled the fabric away from her skin and looked around the compact
space. Everything was in miniature—sink, stove, cupboards, even the windows.
Framed photos placed on ledges along both walls drew her attention. Each showed
a piece of furniture with a hand-scrawled description. Jonah’s work, no
doubt.
She was studying a picture of some elaborate built-in cabinets
when Jonah emerged, as sexy in a black T-shirt and cargo shorts as he’d been in
nothing but a towel.
“You do cabinetry, too?” She nodded at the photograph.
“Not anymore.” He frowned briefly. “A partner and I did
high-end cabinetry. He found the clients. I built the cabinets. Furniture’s more
interesting.”
She wondered what had happened, but knew better than to ask.
He’d moved to the table, clearly to change the subject.
“So what’s this you brought?” He peeled back the plastic and
picked up a bun.
Cara joined him. “They’re called good-luck buns.” She reached
past him to pick one up, vividly aware of how close her arm was to his chest.
The chest that had been bare and water-dotted just seconds ago. She was here for
business reasons, but they stood barely a kiss apart and his scent was turning
her knees to wet noodles.
“So, what, you eat a bun and get lucky? Be great at pickup
bars. Save on small talk.” His eyes twinkled at her.
“Would you like that? Getting lucky without having to say a
word?”
“I’m not much on the subtleties of banter, but I know a loaded
question when I hear one, CJ. Let’s move on.”
“Good point. Open the roll and you’ll find your fortune.”
He tore the bun in two and picked out the candy. A heart glowed
yellow in the center of the dime-sized red circle. She’d used yellow to color
the shapes she embedded in the red candies. “A heart. What does that mean?”
“That you’ll fall in love.” Awkward. Maybe she should have
marked a roll with a more neutral charm.
“What did you get?”
She ripped the roll apart and pulled out the charm. A
heart.
“You’ll fall in love, too. What are the odds?” He gave her a
funny smile.
Did he think she’d set it up? That she wanted
them
to fall in love?
God no.
“The charms must have
clumped.”
“Clumped, huh?” Jonah held her gaze.
“Definitely clumped.” She took his charm and put it with hers
on the table. “Anyway, taste the roll and tell me what you think.”
He started to take a bite, then stopped. “Wait. You’re not
adding this to the menu, are you?”
“Actually, yes. Rosie thinks it’s a good idea, too. We’ll sell
them by the dozen with little cards that explain the charms.”
“We?” he said. “Don’t you mean
me?
You’ll be gone in a week.”
“That’s just it.” Cara took a deep breath, knowing her face had
to be as red as the gummy charm, then said what she had to say. “I’ve decided to
stay for the summer.”
Using the café’s pay phone to call the center’s blind number,
Cara had confirmed that a two-month delay wouldn’t lose her place in Phoenix.
They had a protected way to get Beth Ann’s records to her new school, too.
His eyebrows lifted. “What about your job? Your apartment? You
were ready to tear out of here on the bus a few days ago.”
“I know, but I make better money in the café, so I can pay for
the car repair. Plus, Bunny likes it here. I’ll still have the apartment and
job.” She tried to meet his gaze, hating that she had to lie about Rosie and
their deal.
“If you say so.” He blew out a breath, sounding unhappy. He
wanted her gone? That hurt. Her cheeks stung with heat.
“You sound disappointed.”
“No. It’s good. I need a waitress.” But he didn’t look
pleased.
“But you’d rather it wasn’t me.”
Jonah didn’t confirm, but she could see it was true.
“Is it all my din? The French toast and pecan rolls and the
coffee? My personality?”
“No. None of that.” He dropped his roll on the table. She set
hers down, too, waiting for him to explain. “I was braced for you to leave.”
“Okay…” Was that supposed to make her feel better?
His eyes dug in, dark with a golden glow. “Don’t you get it?
You…disrupt me.” His voice was rough. “I can’t think straight around you. More
and more it’s all I can do not to…” He tilted his head, shifted forward.
He wanted to kiss her. He could hardly
stop himself.
The thrill of that zinged through her. The air between them
nearly crackled with electricity.
Then do it. Kiss me. I
want you to.
She angled her mouth, leaned in.
Jonah pulled backed. “But that can’t happen. You don’t want
that.”
Cara sucked in a breath. He was right. She knew it. Instantly,
the rush stopped, the heat fled. A kiss would be just the start. After that came
getting naked, touching each other in intimate spots. Then Jonah would be on top
of her, weighing her down, overpowering her, and she would think of Barrett and
panic.
That was the last thing she wanted.
They looked at each other for a long charged moment.
“I guess we’ll have to be careful around each other,” she
said.
“Meaning?”
“You know. Avoid temptation.”
“Like being alone with my bed close enough to fall into? With
you in a clingy top and a short skirt? With those lips?”
“And you smelling so good you make me weak in the knees?”
“Yeah? I had no idea aftershave had that power.”
“Yours does. On you. You disrupt me, too.” She felt dizzy, like
her words were spinning her in a circle, turning her and turning her until she
didn’t know what she was doing. “I’d better go. I have some ideas to go over
with you. Tomorrow, we’ll talk. In the café. With customers all around.”
“Right,” he said, looking a little dazed himself.
“Taste the bun, okay? Tell me what you think.”
“I will.”
“Good night.” She went to the door and twisted the knob. Then
she remembered Rosie’s fancy plate, and turned for it, finding herself against
Jonah’s chest, looking up at him.
His eyes widened in surprise, then he enclosed her in his arms
and covered her lips with his own. He’d thought she’d changed her mind.
It felt like she had.
He tasted of mint and man and his lips were gentle, but
insistent, giving and taking at once. He teased her lips with his tongue,
seducing them open.
Everything in her wanted this. This kiss, this embrace, this
man.
Desire roared through her, blocking her hearing, stopping all
thought. Again, she felt swept into wild waters.
Cara grabbed on to Jonah’s back, digging in her fingers,
holding on tight, trying to stay above the flood. He deepened the kiss, pulled
her closer, making it worse. And better. She didn’t know what was happening.
She felt his body against hers, his hardness. He was ready for
her.
Was she ready for him? She felt tight and liquid between her
legs. That part of her was ready. It would be normal and natural to keep going,
take the next step. They wanted each other, they liked and trusted each
other.
But Cara wasn’t normal, and nothing about sex would feel
natural to her. Not now. Not for a long time. Maybe never.
She couldn’t do this. The part of her that was strong enough to
leave Barrett, that had helped her find a way out with Beth Ann, knew that.
Cara broke off the kiss, pushed out of his arms, fighting to
breathe, to think, to explain. “I just wanted Rosie’s plate,” she managed to
say.
Jonah appeared stricken. “My mistake.” He turned to dump the
remaining buns from the plate, and they tumbled to the floor. He thrust the dish
at her.
“I’m sorry, Jonah. It wasn’t you.” She’d said that before. How
totally lame, so weak. She was a scared rabbit, and as soon as she got the door
open, she ran like one all the way to the safety of the café.
She was so ashamed. The man had barely kissed her and she’d
acted like he’d threatened her life. How could she face him again?
For a few minutes, it was only her promise to Rosie that kept
her from packing up and taking the bus in the morning.
CHAPTER NINE
J
ONAH
STOOD
watching CJ cross the
yard, feeling six shades of stupid. She’d turned back for
the plate
and he’d basically assaulted her.
She’d kissed him back, sure, but not for long.
Was he that desperate, that out of control?
CJ was running from her ex-husband, he was almost certain, and
the man had likely abused her. God knows what he’d done to her in bed. The
thought made Jonah see red, made him want to find the guy and beat him to a
pulp.
Just like your old man. Solve it with your
fists.
Jonah shook his head. The point was some guy had given CJ
trouble, and the last thing she needed was more from Jonah.
What she needed was a friend. What she needed was to feel safe.
And he’d gone and scared her.
He made sure she got into the café, then shut his door.
What the hell was wrong with him?
CJ would be here all summer. He’d better fix it fast, be an
adult from now on, keep his hands to himself, support her, listen to her, keep
her daughter busy in the shop and say yes to whatever she wanted to do to the
café.
She deserved a good man. Someone worthy of her trust, who would
consider her needs first, let her call the shots, and always, always be there
for her, through good times and bad. That was not Jonah. He’d proved that once
and for all with Suzanne.
He found the torn roll on the table and took a bite. It was
tasty. Complex. Tangy and sweet. Like a fruit muffin but airier. Even the nuts
tasted better than usual. Peanuts…cashews, too. And CJ wanted to sell the buns
in the café. More mess, more trouble. He threw out the rolls that had hit the
floor, swept the candy charms into his hand. He started to toss them in the
trash, but they glowed golden in his palm. CJ had gone bright red when their
charms had matched. They’d
clumped,
she said. That
made him smile.
What the hell. He’d keep them. He dropped them onto the
windowsill next to the jade plant he couldn’t seem to kill.
You’re going to fall in love.
Yeah,
right. Did she have a charm for hopeless horn dogs?
Through the window, he spotted Louis slinking toward the
trailer, so he went out to pretend he didn’t notice when the cat tucked in for
his nightly scratch. As far as dealing with needs and feelings, a cat was about
his speed.
* * *
A
T
5:00
P
.
M
.
the next day, Cara set
two places on the café counter, wiped her palms on her apron and inhaled deeply.
She was holding a tasting of the new menu ideas for Jonah and Ernesto. As soon
as the café closed, she had started cooking. The pair of them were due any
minute.
Sure enough, the door jangled and in came Jonah.
Cara’s heart lifted at the sight of him. She couldn’t help it.
“Hey,” she said, glad she could blame the steamy kitchen for her red face.
“Hey.” He gave her that look, cool as the iced coffee they now
offered, just like this morning’s and all day when their eyes met. She’d
expected awkwardness. She was mortified, after all. But coldness? Distance. That
felt awful. The kiss had ruined their friendship.
“Ernesto can’t make it,” Jonah said. “Some family thing.”
“Oh.” They would need Ernesto as
sous
-
chef if they added the menu items
Cara wanted. “So it’s just us then.” She swallowed.
“You think that’s bad? The two of us alone?”
She gave a wry smile. “After today, when you treated me like I
had the plague? I doubt there will be a problem.”
He frowned. “After last night, I figured you’d want me to steer
clear. I attacked you.”
“You didn’t
attack
me. I wanted you
to kiss me. I wanted to kiss you.”
Jonah stared at her, not understanding.
“Look…I’m not in good shape for…intimacy.” She couldn’t even
say
sex.
“I pushed you. I saw your face.”
“No, Jonah. I’m messed up. I wish I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was out of line.”
“I won’t if you won’t,” she said. “Be sorry, I mean.”
Jonah studied her for a long moment. “Okay,” he finally
said.
“So, we’re good? Able to pass within a foot of each other
without flinching?”
“Depends on how disruptive you plan to be.” A smile flickered
on his face and it made her feel so much better.
“Yes! That’s what I missed today. The joking around, the
teasing.” She’d missed
him.
“We’re back to being
friends.”
“Guess we are.”
The surge hit again.
She wanted
him.
She could see the same reaction in his eyes. That had to
stop.
They
were
friends. They’d shared a
little of their personal stories. Jonah had been good to her and kind to Beth
Ann. He’d said Cara had helped him. They cared for each other.
If only they could try…
No.
She forced her thoughts in
line. No wishes. No if-onlys. Just here and now and how things were.
“So, let’s get this done.” Jonah gave a weary sigh and headed
for the counter.
“You make it sound like torture.”
“That’s later when I have to cook it all.” But his teasing
smile was back. Much better. They would be okay. All she had to do was focus on
doing her best for Rosie and the café. She was nervous about the ideas she had,
whether they were good, whether they would work, but Rosie kept encouraging
her.
Jonah’s approval would help.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right out.”
* * *
CJ
BUSTLED
INTO
the kitchen and Jonah
climbed onto a stool to wait for her to turn his menu upside down. What just
happened? She didn’t blame him for the kiss. That was good. She wanted them to
be friends.
Friends.
Yeah, he could do that.
She’d missed the teasing and joking. He’d missed
her.
Period. He wanted her in his arms and in his bed.
Can’t happen.
Forget it.
If she could, he could. So he sat there while she dashed out
with dish after dish, explaining each one, sampling them with him, comparing
opinions, deciding on spices and salt, leaning across the counter, giving him a
way too tempting view of the tops of her breasts. Lace on the bra, too. Mmm.
“Well?”
“Huh?” She’d asked him a question.
“Is there too much tarragon in the green goddess dressing?”
He took a bite of lettuce and savored the dressing. “Tastes
like licorice? Yeah. Too strong.”
“That’s what I thought. Okay. I’ll back that down. The garlic
parmesan dressing is good?” She seemed so nervous. Her color was high and she
kept biting her lip and bobbing side to side. She was smart, she knew what she
was doing, but she seemed to doubt herself.
“It’s great, like I said. Looks like you’ve got plans for
Rosie’s garden. The bistro girls won’t be happy to lose the produce.”
“Can’t be helped. Garden-fresh dishes will bring in more
health-conscious patrons. We need another niche.”
She went on about ads and specials and coupons and maybe a
highway billboard until his head spun.
“You seem to know a lot about the restaurant business. You get
your degree in that?”
CJ froze, then looked down at the counter. “I don’t have a
degree. Not yet anyway.” She glanced at him, embarrassed, it seemed.
“Not a big deal,” he said. “College doesn’t guarantee much
these days. People I know—”
“I’m halfway toward a teaching degree,” she blurted.
He studied her. “Teaching, huh? You’ll be good at that.”
“I hope so. I won’t really know until I student teach.”
“Come on. You’re smart, energetic, enthusiastic. You’re good
with people. You care. What else do you need?”
“A lot, trust me. I want to teach middle school. There’s so
much about psychology, how people learn, the curriculum, brain development.”
She’d flushed when he’d praised her.
“You’re brave.” He smiled. “Middle school is hormone hell.”
“It’s a crucial time. Kids solidify their beliefs about
themselves during those years. I kind of got lost then. If a teacher had
encouraged me, I might have pushed myself more, ended up less timid.”
“Timid? I don’t see that.”
“You don’t?”
“No. You gave me hell from the day you walked in here.
Relentless is more like it.”
“Really? That’s good, I guess.” Emotions swirled in her blue
eyes, not all of them happy. “After I had my, um, rough patch, it took a while
to build my confidence.” She swallowed. “I’ve had a setback.” CJ glanced at him.
“But with you, here in the café, I think I’ve bounced back. It’s been good for
me.”
For some reason, his eyes started watering. “All I can say is
if you can get me frosting pecan rolls, you’ll have seventh graders writing
operas and acting out quadratic equations.”
CJ smiled a big, bright, treasure box of a smile, and it lit
him up inside. She’d been good for him, too.
She served him beef and chicken curry turnovers, home-style
mac-and-cheese, fried catfish in panko crumbs, grilled zucchini in a peanut
sauce, fried pickle chips and sweet potato fries.
Jonah savored every bite, snared constantly by the sparkle in
her blue eyes, the soft fullness of her lips shiny with oil. It made him
light-headed.
“Huh?” CJ had asked him another question.
“I said you’re probably wondering how we’ll prep all this.”
“Sure. Yeah.” But he’d been too distracted. “How will we?”
She told him she thought Ernesto could help, doing some of the
baking, gradually taking over as
sous-
chef as they
got busier and more money came in. Ernesto had a cousin, Hector, who could take
over as busboy.
“You’ve thought this through,” Jonah said.
“I had time last night. I didn’t sleep well.”
“Me neither.” He’d relived that kiss a million times, then
slapped himself down for taking advantage of her. She’d taken the guilt away,
though, when she’d told him she wasn’t sorry, that she’d wanted it, too, but had
just lost her nerve.
“That’s all I’ve got for now,” CJ said finally.
Finally.
She’d wreaked enough havoc on the menu. “No
dessert, but I do want to add more baked goods. So…what do you think?” She
looked at him eagerly, excited about it.
What did he think?
My life would be so
much easier if I’d closed up early the day you walked in smelling so
pink.
But what he said was, “Long as we ease into it, dish by dish,
I’m good.”
“Really? That’s so great. I’m so glad. Help me clean up and we
can talk about the renovations.”
“The…what?” But CJ had flitted off and he had no choice but to
follow her. He washed dishes, while she put away food, and rattled on about
painting the interior, reupholstering the benches and making a new sign to
reflect the fresh new menu. Damn, what had he said yes to?
She reached over his head to put away the pepper jar. He
steadied her at the hips, liking the weight of her in his hands, the curve, the
give of her flesh. And she smelled so damn
pink.
CJ turned to him, leaning against his arm. “So will you do
it?”
“Will I…”
“Sketch the new sign. Weren’t you listening?”
“Doing my damnedest.” He blew out a breath. “Yeah. I’ll sketch
it. I’ll build it. I’ll reupholster the benches and get Evan to help me paint
the place.”
“But you have your show and all.”
“I’ll fit it in when I can.”
CJ looked stunned. “Are you sure?”
Hell, no.
But he was too far gone
to back out now. He was under her spell, swept up in all her energy and fire.
Whatever she needed, he’d do—bag her happy buns, frost her rolls and rinse grit
from Rosie’s greens. Hell, if she asked, he’d probably build a gazebo and a koi
pond out back. “Of course I’m sure.”
She squealed and threw her arms around him. Just like that he
had her body against his, the soft give of her breasts, her warmth, the weight
of her in his arms.
CJ backed away with a shaky breath.
It took Jonah a second to see straight. “If you’re serious
about all that baked crap, you’ll need a display case. Lighted. Rotating
shelves. I’ll see what I can put together.”
“That would be amazing.” She stepped forward, as if to hug him,
then thought better of it, bouncing foot to foot. Finally, she held out a hand
for him to shake.
He linked fingers with her and gave her small hand a squeeze.
It seemed like the most natural thing to do.
She squeezed back. Her eyes flitted all over his face, similar
to the way she zipped around his kitchen. When they let go, his hand felt too
empty.
Jonah couldn’t offer her much, but he could do this. Cook for
her. Paint and build and sketch.
He’d need a small motor
for the shelves....
“This will be fun, won’t it?” she said.
“It’ll be a hell of a lot of work.” The fun would be being in
the eye of her hurricane and watching her fly, seeing her zest for everything
she did. “And fun. That, too.”
Their gazes tangled. CJ looked so happy that he got another hot
oil pop. By now his chest should look like a shot-up highway sign. She took a
ragged breath and swayed closer. A few more inches and she’d be in his arms…
The pay phone by the johns rang. CJ jumped like she’d been
bitten. Her eyes went wide. “I’ll get it. You can go. I’ll finish up.”
She wanted him out of here. Was she expecting the call? On the
pay phone? Why? There was the café phone and Rosie’s upstairs.
He went to check the food order, then headed out, pausing to
say goodbye to her. CJ stood in the hall, frozen and pale, her eyes blank.