Page 79 of Don’t Go Stealing My Heart

Lucien: As far as I know, all’s clear. Something up?

She nibbled the inside of her lip while eyeing the fallen thread. Aside from being jumpy, Clementine hadn’t actually seen anything concerning at the Elvis show, and Jack had said he’d probably moved the electrical cord. She could easily explain the thread. Her instincts still tingled, but she was probably overreacting.

Clementine: Nothing’s up. Just being cautious. If you hear anything, let me know.

She almost added that she missed him and couldn’t wait to go for dinner or meet for coffee or watch him brush his teeth. Needy Nelly. At least he’d replied swiftly. Not that she was surprised. He wouldn’t play hot potato and drop her just because they weren’t partners. Something else she should accept. Every shift and change wasn’t a sign of the apocalypse. Lucien would always be in her life.

Emailing her father was the best way to regain her sanity. The second her fingers hit the keyboard, her worries began to fade. A swarm of butterflies filled the nervous cracks the fallen thread had left.

She gushed for two pages about her very own Elvis Presley. Nothing felt real until she’d emailed her dad, even though he’d never read the messages. A wish sent into the wind. But writing the words solidified this newfound relationship. She’d be there for Jack as much as possible and hate on whoever gave him trouble—Alistair and Ava would be getting some serious stink eye. She would do her best to integrate into this life and get to know Marco and Jack’s friends.

Her fingers paused, hovering over the keypad as a different worry sparked. Firing your best friend who’d just had twins could lead to regret and resentment. If Clementine became a distraction, she could wind up in that line of fire. She would be an easy target to hit. Residual nerves blossomed, reminding her how fragile their new beginning was. Then she replayed their night and morning, the hungry look in his blue-suede eyes as he pushed inside her.

I love him, she wrote to her father. I already love him so much it hurts. If I lose him, it will devastate me.

23

Jack shouldn’t be happy. He shouldn’t find himself smiling for no reason. His father was fighting for his life. His family business could be weeks from imploding, but here he was, his pen poised over his scribbled notes, a goofy smile on his face, like he was thirty-one going on thirteen.

Clementine Abernathy was to blame.

If he could sequester her in his house for a week, to talk and make love day and night, it wouldn’t satisfy his cravings. He had enjoyed his few girlfriends. Three women in his life were enough to know how happiness felt. Clementine was happiness to the tenth power. She was adrenaline. She was better than an adoring crowd whistling and cheering for him. He couldn’t wait to spoil her, show her how full life could be. How good they would be together, and he knew exactly where to start.

Another perfect gift for his little cat burglar.

A knock on the door was followed by Marco’s head popping in. “How was your night? Anything you wish to share?”

“Why are you here?” He should be with his girls. All three of them. Not nosing around for gossip.

“Left a few loose ends on the Every Cent project that needed tying up. Thought I’d sneak in while Lauralee slept.”

“And harass me?”

“The town is buzzing, my friend. I heard you were making out on the side of the road.”

Jack really did live in a fishbowl, but the making out had been too good to be annoyed with the gossip. As was the trust he was building with Clementine. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to discuss his business difficulties until she’d ferreted out his troubles. With everyone else, he had to be careful. With everyone else, there were reasons to keep secrets. Not with her. They knew each other’s deepest and darkest.

“Clementine is staying in town,” Jack said. “She’s moving in.”

Marco made a weird whooshing sound effect and pretended to pitch an invisible baseball. “Isn’t that kind of fast?”

“Didn’t you profess your love to Lauralee after two dates?”

“Point taken, but she was the first good thing to happen to me after I lost my scholarship.” He flexed his wrist, as though the memory brought with it physical pain. “I owe her my life.”

“Pretty sure I was the one who forced you to sober up and got punched for the effort.”

“I owe you, too, man. For everything. Including this job.”

Not the reminder he needed. “You earned it.”

“I begged for this job, and you know it. Who else was gonna hire an injured pitcher without a college degree?”

“You excel at what you do. You’ve made a difference in the world.” Like Clementine had, although her methods had been questionable. He still worried leaving that life was easier said than done. Once the realities of regular work kicked in, she could have second thoughts and disappear from his life as quickly as she’d appeared. A smart man would keep his heart protected, but if he wanted her to open up and be honest with him, he had to do the same.

“I am good at my job,” Marco said. “Unfortunately most people don’t look past a résumé. But I didn’t stop by to worship your overpaid ass or needle you about your love life, or gush about my perfect wife and perfect baby girls, who are absolutely perfect, by the way.”

They shared a grin. “I’m thrilled for you both. Can’t wait to meet them.”