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Normally his height made her feel safe, but right now he just felt too overwhelming and too angry. She stepped back. “Where have you been?”
“I don’t answer to you.”
His cool voice was filled with the old Shane, and she hated it. Remote and angry, the man from their road trip was long gone.
He stepped inside and looked around. His quick assessment made her shoulder blades itch. Instead of the derision she’d been expecting, he seemed calm and accepting.
“Lily Proctor, this is Shane Justice. He’ll be staying with us for the foreseeable future.”
Shane held out his hand. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”
Her mother tipped her head back. “Are you sure you’re not Larry’s boy?”
Kendall flushed. He damn well better not be.
“No, ma’am. My father died before I was born. Larry raised me, for all intents and purposes.”
Lily narrowed her gaze. “Oh, really?”
Shane’s face gentled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Kendall’s gaze wavered for a moment before she blinked away the wash of tears. He didn’t have to be nice to her mother, but he was. She crossed the room to the small wine fridge she’d stashed behind a small bar she’d restained. She poured herself a glass and took a slug before turning back around, her innkeeper’s smile in place. She’d get him settled and make the best of things.
“Can I find you a room for the night?”
“That’d be great.”
Kendall glanced at her mother. “Is the Sage Room made up?”
Her mother nodded.
She returned her attention to Shane. “Did you bring your stuff in?”
“I’ll bring it in later.”
“Okay,” she said stiffly. She could feel him behind her as she started up the steps. Instead of waiting for him, she darted up to the next floor and down the hallway. He was finally in her space, in her things, and he was acting like they were strangers again. She could feel the headache brewing.
She opened the door and quickly surveyed the room. Cream sheets, deep sage comforter and walls, with a buttery pine bed reminiscent of their time at the church. Slatted headboard, side table, and a simple dresser kept the room uncluttered. The room smelled of lavender.
This part was her mother’s doing. She loved keeping the rooms clean and romantic. Kendall backed into the door, her skin on high alert when he filled the space. He swept by her; his distinctive amber scent was stronger and so distracting she wanted to crawl into his arms and apologize.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t have anything to apologize for.
Maybe she’d talked up the place more than was warranted, but she honestly saw it that way. Time away had taken some of the polish off, but it was her place, and she was proud of it.
“We have breakfast at seven, lunch at one, and dinner at six. You’re welcome to come downstairs for a meal with us.”
“Thank you.”
She tried not to react. But the throaty thanks shot everything all to hell. She stopped at the door, not looking back at him. Before she could do something dumb, she followed the hidden hallway to her corner of the house and jammed her fist into her mouth.
Crawling under the covers, she pressed her cheek to her cool sateen sheets and let the tears fall into her pillow.
SEVENTEEN
Dawn droveShane from his bed. The mix of lavender and vanilla in the room should have been too fussy and female, but he’d slept deeply and dreamlessly.
