Jane's Gift Page 7

  Audrey stepped up beside her, staring into the cab of the truck. “Is that Chris Nelson?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Jane practically whispered. Oh, boy. It was gonna hit the fan now.

  Audrey looked at her oddly. “I thought you said you came with a friend.”

  “Um.” Jane didn’t know what else to say or how to explain herself. Caught in a sort of lie by the biggest gossip in town, what could she do?

  “Are you on a date with him?” Audrey laughed; the high-pitched sound grated on Jane’s nerves. “He’s the biggest player ever. Trust me, honey, he’s dated everyone.”

  “We’re not on a date. He’s a family friend like I said,” Jane protested, trying to send Chris an apologetic look. Audrey’s comment niggled, though. So had he really dated everyone?

  “Sure, he’s a family friend. More like a partner in crime for your little brother the player. Give me a break.” Audrey rolled her eyes and waved, backing away from Jane as if she had a disease. “Have fun with that one, Jane. If you don’t watch it, he’ll break your heart.”

  Audrey turned and walked into the movie theater without a backward glance, joining a man who stood inside waiting for her. She finally looked over her shoulder, shot a smug glance in Jane’s direction, and then they walked away.

  Jane turned to look at Chris, who waited patiently in his truck. A sharp slap of wind hit her in the face as she went to the passenger side door and opened it, sliding inside the warm confines of the truck.

  “Was that Audrey Daniels?”

  He didn’t sound too pleased. Jane didn’t know what to make of that. Maybe Audrey left an unpleasant taste in everyone’s mouth? “Yeah, it was.”

  “She, uh, talks way too much.” He shifted the truck into drive and pulled away from the curb, cruising through the parking lot toward the exit. “Did she tell you she’s divorcing Rich?”

  “She did. I haven’t seen her in years.” Jane gazed out the window, watched the dim lights of the closed businesses that dotted the main drag pass by as he turned onto the highway. “Back in high school she and Mindy were good friends.” Jane didn’t think they were anymore, and she could understand why Mindy didn’t want to be friends with someone like Audrey. But were her secret fears true? Was Chris a total player who went through women quickly? He’d never indicated that he wasn’t looking for a commitment, but that didn’t mean much. They barely knew each other. This certainly wasn’t anything serious. She didn’t want it to be anything serious.

  Jane figured if she kept thinking that, even saying it out loud, then maybe it would be true.

  So why did her heart feel like it was cracking in two? All over a few choice words spoken by a not very nice woman? It made no sense.

  This might be the excuse you need to stay away from him and protect yourself. The nagging little voice inside her head sounded surprisingly like her mother. She bet her mother wouldn’t approve of her seeing Chris, despite the fact that he was one of Mac’s friends.

  Then she thought of Stephen and wondered if she was moving too fast. He was the very last person she wanted to think about, but he was there, a constant reminder when she looked at the faces of her children. Logan looked the most like him, though Sophia was a close second. Even Lexi resembled him, too.

  The urge to see them, to be with them and breathe in their sweet scent was suddenly overwhelming.

  “Could you drop me off at Mindy’s, please? I need to pick up my children.”

  Chris looked at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. She met his gaze for the briefest second before she looked away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

  “Yeah, I can do that. Do you need a ride to your house once you pick them up?”

  “No, it’s okay, they’ll already be asleep. Mindy invited me to stay the night, anyway.” This new need to get away from Chris clawed at her gut. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, to try to compartmentalize them, to figure out what just happened this evening.

  She had told him she wanted to be just friends, yet she’d allowed him to kiss her, to touch her in the middle of a dark movie theater. The way he’d looked at her before he left her standing on the curb, the heat and passion swirling in his golden eyes. Audrey’s fake concern and mocking gaze…

  All of it was just too, too much.

  She remained silent the rest of the drive—a solid fifteen minutes—and Chris was, too. He turned the radio on, drowning the silence with a classic rock station, and she caught him tapping the edge of the steering wheel more than a few times.

  So he liked music, big deal. She happened to enjoy all sorts of music as well, had coveted a new iPhone for so long and finally received one as an early Christmas present two years ago. A new version had been waiting for her when she’d come out of the coma. Her sister told her they’d played music for her, slipped the buds into her ears and let her listen while she’d been asleep to the outside world.

  The memory made her heart ache, and she blinked back the tears that threatened. Stephen hadn’t been much of a music lover and so she’d denied herself of it for most of their marriage. Now, it felt silly. It wasn’t like he would’ve disapproved. Stephen hadn’t been that kind of man; he’d always encouraged her outside interests.

  A fresh wave of guilt hit her, swift and cutting. Thoughts of her late husband didn’t feel right when she was out with another man. A very handsome, virile man who kissed her like he never wanted anyone else. How he’d held her face with his big hands so gently he almost made her forget the scars there, the ugliness she felt.

  Jane bit back the sigh that wanted to spill. He was so attractive, so kind, and such a wonderful kisser. No man could be this perfect.

  Resolve straightened her spine. She would not see him again after this night, not like this, in what basically amounted to a date. No, if she saw him around town or with Mac she’d be polite, friendly. But she wouldn’t take it any further.

  She couldn’t. Her mind wouldn’t let her. It wasn’t right.

  Her gaze lingered on his mouth, noticed that it was straight and firm, his expression intent as he drove. He handled the truck with quiet efficiency, considering how the wind howled outside. She was duly impressed.

  Again, too perfect for words. There had to be a flaw inside there somewhere—most likely a big gaping one, too. The player thing came back to her mind, and the more she thought about it the more she realized it was probably true.

  No unattached man as gorgeous as Chris would not play the field.

  “I leave Monday morning for a conference in Sacramento,” he said once he’d turned off the highway and onto the county road that led to Lone Pine Lake.

  “Really?” She continued to stare out the window at the imposing shadows of the towering pine trees outside. The road led through a dense forest before opening up to reveal the lake and the little town that surrounded it.

  “Yeah, I’m gone for five days. Mandated training, all captains are required to attend.”

  “Who’s covering your shifts at the station?”

  “Eric will. He’s my engineer and backup guy.” Chris paused, turned right onto the road where her sister lived. “Maybe we could get together next weekend?”

  Jane swallowed hard, kept her eyes locked on the window. She couldn’t see the houses that lined the street, though she knew they were there. It was late, almost eleven, and the people of Lone Pine Lake usually went to bed early. If she were at home, she’d be in bed by now as well.

  But she wasn’t at home. She was with Chris. And she couldn’t accept his offer of another date, no matter how much she wanted to.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to see each other again. Like I said earlier, I’d like us to be friends,” she said quietly, choosing on purpose to drop that bomb as he pulled into her sister’s driveway.

  That way she could make her escape quickly.

  He jerked the truck to a stop, causing her to bounce in her seat. “Friends. All right.”

  The edge of anger and frus
tration in his voice surprised her, and she turned to look at him. The scowl on his face said everything, the disappointment in his eyes a confirmation.

  He didn’t like being turned down. Had she wounded his pride?

  “I don’t think I’m ready for…this.” She waved her hand in between them and clutched her purse in her lap, as if using it for a shield.

  Chris ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up in a way that made her ache to reach out and smooth it back into place. Just so she could touch him, one more time.

  “Did I move too fast? I’m sorry about what happened back at the theater. I know I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

  She wasn’t sorry for that magical kissing session. It now rated up there with one of the most unforgettable experiences of her life.

  “It wasn’t that,” she admitted softly, though she knew she should’ve just agreed with him. It would’ve made it all so much easier.

  “Fine, okay.” His mouth was drawn into a tight line and he clenched his jaw. His profile appeared as if carved from stone.

  “It’s not you, Christian. It’s me. I can’t do this. I don’t think I’m ready. It’s just…too much, what with my kids and my situation and the way I am.” She reached for the handle on the inside of the door and he sprang toward her; rested a warm, large hand on her left arm; and stopped her movements.

  “I don’t know about you, but I lied. I’m not sorry about what happened. That kiss we shared earlier was unbelievable.” He watched her, his eyes glittering from the glow of Mindy’s porch light. “And I don’t know if I want to forget it.”

  “You should. Forget it. I need to forget it, too,” Jane admitted. She looked down, watched as he gave her arm a squeeze before removing his hand, and then he was out of the truck, rounding the front so he could open the door for her like some sort of gentleman.

  Yes, indeed, the man was way too perfect for words. Just the idea of his secret fatal flaw instilled fear within her. It had to be bad. Really bad. And she’d figure it out while he was gone, convince herself he truly wasn’t any good for her, and reinforce her decision not to see him again.

  He walked her to the door and she shrugged out of his jacket, handed it to him without saying a word. He took it, pulled it back on, and then nodded toward the front door.

  “You should go inside. It’s too cold for you to stand out here.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist, regret filling her at having to tell him good-bye, for good. Even though she knew she had to do this. “Thank you for taking me to the movies. And for the popcorn.”

  He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He appeared sad, a little lost, and her heart suddenly ached for him.

  “I had a good time. I hope you’ll consider what I said.”

  “Good night, Chris. Have fun in Sacramento.” She ignored his reply on purpose, didn’t want to acknowledge it.

  Acknowledging it meant she should acknowledge her feelings. And she couldn’t do that.

  He chuckled. “Oh yeah.”

  And then he did something so unexpected he shocked the breath right out of her. Drawing closer, he pulled her into his arms and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. Soft and heady and with the slightest hint of tongue, a kiss designed to devastate her senses.

  And make her want more.

  It worked.

  “’Night, Jane.” He released her, a tiny smile curving those sensuous lips, and she felt as if she’d been clubbed over the head.

  Just the reaction he’d probably hoped for, too.

  Thank goodness he would be gone for the next five days. She didn’t know if she’d be able to take much more of this.

  Chapter Six

  “So tell me—how did your date with Chris go last night?” Mindy finally asked the question Jane had been dreading. It had taken her more than two hours to just blurt it out. That must’ve been some sort of record—usually Mindy wanted all the details way sooner than that.

  Jane shrugged, took another sip of coffee. “It really wasn’t a date.”

  Mindy grinned and pinched a piece off the blueberry muffin in front of her, popping it into her mouth. “Liar.”

  “It was fine. The movie was terrible.”

  “Really? Which one did you see?”

  Jane gave a brief description of the stupidity of it all. “Barely anyone was in the theater. Some of the people even walked out in the middle.”

  “And you two didn’t? Why suffer through it? I’m sure they would’ve given you free tickets for something else.” Mindy paused, stared at Jane for a beat, then two. “You’re blushing. What did you do instead of watching that movie?”

  Jane waved a hand in front of her face, cursing her fair complexion and propensity for blushing. Her face had always given her away. “Nothing.”

  Mindy’s brows arched. “Did you kiss him?”

  “Shh. Don’t say that. I don’t want the kids to hear.” All of them were in the family room watching cartoons, and she really didn’t need her children overhearing this particular conversation. “We didn’t kiss.”

  “You little liar; you so did! Tell me, is he any good? He has such a sexy mouth.”

  A deep blush flooded her skin at her sister’s words. “Mindy, you’re a married woman.”

  “Hey, I can notice these things. And come on, you know it’s true. Besides, just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m dead.” Mindy grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it—”

  “Stop it, don’t apologize. I know what you meant.” Jeez, no one in her family could mention anything about death without apologizing to her.

  “So come on, give me a few details. Let me live through you,” Mindy urged.

  “Fine. We may have kissed.” A tiny smile formed.

  “And how was it?” Mindy rubbed her hands together, and Jane couldn’t help but laugh. It felt good to be so relaxed with her sister. Like back in the old days, when everything was so much more carefree.

  “It was—good.” Not even close to good—more like fantastic, unbelievable, amazing. But she didn’t want to brag. And she didn’t want to dwell, since she wasn’t going to see him anymore. Why rub it in like salt in a wound?

  “I bet it was more than good. But I understand if you don’t want to kiss and tell.”

  “I told him I didn’t want to see him again,” Jane admitted, her voice low.

  Mindy’s mouth dropped open. “Why in the world would you do that? I thought you liked this guy. You two had major chemistry going on.”

  “We don’t have chemistry,” she protested, but Mindy just laughed.

  “Honey, you two had so much chemistry, I could practically taste it that night at the spaghetti feed. The way he looked at you—whew.” Mindy fanned herself, a melancholy expression crossing her face. “I wish Marty looked at me like that.”

  “I bet he does. Maybe you just don’t notice.”

  “No, I don’t think he’s ever looked at me like that.” Mindy sighed, sounding wistful. “So why would you tell him you didn’t want to see him again?”

  Jane shrugged, feeling stupid. “I need to focus on the children. On Lexi. The holidays are almost here and I can’t be distracted by a man when my main goal is to make this the best Christmas ever for those three. Plus, his job is too dangerous. I’d worry about him all the time. Oh yeah, and he’s too perfect—”

  “Honey, you’re worrying way too much about the future and not even giving him a chance! And hey, aren’t we all perfect with the first blush of love?”

  “There’s no love involved whatsoever.” God forbid; it was far too soon for that. She couldn’t believe her sister had dropped that word. “I just think he has to have a huge flaw hidden somewhere in his depths. And I bet it’s a doozy. It has to be.”

  “Well, like I told you, I do hear he’s a player. But they say that about Mac, too, and I don’t see him parading women around. Chris is respected in the community, his job allows him to be the hero every single day, he’s gorgeo
us, and he seems to like your kids. What more could you ask for?”

  “Exactly my point. He’s way too perfect.” Jane shrugged, her worries confirmed. She had just gone on a date with a man who went through women like Kleenex. Great. “Audrey Daniels told me he’s a player, too. I ran into her last night at the theater.”

  Mindy snorted. “Audrey Daniels loves nothing more than to stir the pot.”

  “She was kind of rude to me. She almost seemed happy that the children and I were ‘suffering,’ as she put it.”

  Mindy nodded. “She’s a total bitch, trust me. Steer clear of her. You know, now that I think about it, I heard a rumor about her and Chris. Apparently, at the big Fourth of July bash last year, she approached him and took off her bikini top, gave him a real show. He tossed her a blanket and walked away.”

  Why that warmed the remote corners of Jane’s heart she refused to think about. She already knew he was a gentleman. This story proved it, despite the player confirmation. “Poor Chris.”

  “Poor Chris is right. She couldn’t stop throwing herself at him every chance she got. I wasn’t around when all of this happened, but I heard it was pretty embarrassing. She made a fool of herself.”

  “No wonder she’s getting a divorce.” Sounded as if Audrey self-imploded.

  “Exactly.”

  “Doesn’t she have, like, five kids?”

  “And she breast fed every one of them.” Mindy grinned.

  “I bet those things are pretty droopy.” Jane giggled. She didn’t like talking badly about people—she knew what it felt like, the stares and the whispers and the back talking. She’d been whispered about for months after the accident. She bet people still talked about her.

  But bitchy Audrey Daniels deserved it.

  “I’m positive those things are droopy. They probably fall to her knees when let loose. And I’m sure Audrey said that to you because she was jealous.”

  “Why would she be? Please. I’m not the first girl he’s taken to the movies. Someone as hot as Chris can’t possibly go without female attention for long.” Jane picked at a napkin, shredding the thin paper strip by strip. “He’s going out of town for a week. For work. But he said he wants to see me again.”