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Well, she conceded, that was a big lie. She did like him, she’d liked him from the minute they met, in spite of who his father had been. He was charming and sexy, playful and self-confident. She liked that he didn’t swagger, and he felt no need to play tough guy. He was a flirt, a man who liked women. Right now he liked her, she knew it, in spite of his failure to call. She could see the heat in his eyes when he looked at her. He wanted her every bit as much as he had their first day. But something was holding him back.
If his last name were different, and if he’d come up with a reasonable excuse for not calling her, she might have tried to find out what was stopping him. And maybe she would have tried to change his mind.
The realization floored her. How strange that for the first time in nearly forever, she’d found someone who tempted her to let him get closer. She could conceive of lowering some of her guard, taking a chance on what could be a fabulously erotic, exciting relationship. But he’d erected barriers even taller than her own.
She supposed it was just as well there were insurmountable walls between them right up front. Jack obviously liked to play. A lot. He wasn’t the stick-around type and she knew it. While Kate believed if there ever did come a time when she found that one right guy—her true love—she’d be a goner for life.
Much like her mother had been, unfortunately.
Over the next couple of days Kate refrained from pumping Cassie about her problems—either her old ones, or her new one, in the form of the hunky sheriff. Somehow, while they priced, ordered and set up displays, she found herself getting excited as she had before the opening of her shop in Chicago.
Knock it off, this isn’t the same thing at all!
Nope, it definitely wasn’t. In Chicago, she’d wanted her shop to be a wild success. Here, she fully expected it to be a grand failure. But at least they’d have fun failing, doing it publicly, right on the main street of Pleasantville. And, as they failed, she’d be right here in case Cassie needed her. She knew her cousin too well…if Kate had stayed in Chicago, Cassie would never have come to her if things got bad. Here, she couldn’t very well avoid it!
She managed to avoid Jack for the most part—not an easy feat considering their close living quarters. But he was usually gone during the day, and so was she. That suited her fine.
Nights were tougher. They slept mere inches apart, separated only by the width of one slim, interior wall. There were times when she thought she heard his hand brush the wall behind her head, when he’d roll over in her old bed next door. She knew from childhood experience that at times she and Cassie had heard each other’s late-night bad dream cries.
On Wednesday morning she stepped outside on the porch as soon as she got up, glad for the fresh early-morning air. Down the block, a mother rode a bicycle, with a toddler in the child seat. The woman waved as she rode by.
A nice, peaceful morning. She didn’t remember those from when she’d lived here, though, she supposed there must have been some. At least for Edie. Otherwise, why would her mother have ever come back here when Kate’s dad died?
Hearing sounds coming from next door, she stepped closer and peered into the front window of her mother’s duplex. She wished she hadn’t. Jack stood in his living room, bare-chested, wearing only a pair of loose white pants. He was stretching, moving his body with fluidity and grace. And power. It took a second for her muddled brain to realize that he was running through some type of karate moves.
He had no idea she was there. So she watched for several minutes. The sweat gleamed on his bare chest and thick arms as he swung and kicked and arched. He moved his body like a sleek animal, a finely tuned—but dangerous—machine.
Walk away before he sees you. She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t turn and walk into her house. Just one more moment of watching…. One moment stretched into five or ten minutes until finally, inevitably, he glanced up and saw her there.
He immediately stopped. They stared at each other through the glass for a minute, then Jack lifted his hand and pointed toward her with his index finger, wagging it back and forth like a parent to a kid who’d done something naughty.
