Stonehill series collect.., p.98
Stonehill Series Collection, page 98
“You’ll fix it,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay, Daniel. Just close your eyes and sleep now.”
He inhaled deeply as he felt exhaustion taking over his mind. Her scent was on the blanket and soothed his anxiety as he floated into darkness, a spark of hope lighting inside him. Maybe, just maybe, everything really would be okay this time.
Chapter 10
Jenna eased her apartment door open, knowing that if she pushed too far, the hinges would creak. She poked her head in, confirming that Daniel was still asleep on the sofa. Not wanting to wake him, she slipped through the barely open door, slowly turned the locks, and slid the chain into place. Then she tiptoed to the bathroom and turned on the shower and stripped down, testing the water before easing under the stream. She sighed as the heat hit her muscles. Forget waiting tables and scrubbing floors—trying to maneuver around the booths so she could get varnish on the wall had been the real workout.
After drying off, she wiped the condensation from the mirror and looked at the bruise on her forehead. The deep purple had grown darker over the day but at least the swelling had gone down, making the wound a bit less obvious. She’d have to pin her hair over that side of her forehead for a good week or so, she expected.
Even with her attempt at hiding the goose egg, a few people had asked what had happened. She’d admitted to hitting her head on the edge of the table, but left out the physical assault by a homeless veteran part and implied that she was bending to pick something up. A little white lie to save herself a whole lot of explaining. Thankfully her brother hadn’t visited today, but she usually saw him and Annie several times a week, so her luck wouldn’t last. She didn’t know if Marcus would buy her tale, but she wasn’t about to tell him the truth.
He was already suspicious of her handyman. If he knew Daniel had anger issues that had inadvertently led to her smacking her head, he wouldn’t rest until Daniel was long gone. Then he’d spend the rest of his life reminding Jenna how dumb it had been to hire him in the first place.
She dragged a brush through her still-wet hair and brushed and flossed her teeth before carefully turning the knob and opening the bathroom door, listening for Daniel’s rhythmic breathing. She muffled a chuckle when he snorted. With nothing but the moonlight to guide her, she moved to the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and carried it with her to bed.
She’d slid between the cool sheets and fluffed her pillow before she even considered the fact that she’d showered and crawled into bed while a strange man slept on her sofa. God. Maybe she was as naïve as Peter had accused her of being. She rolled onto her side and looked toward the sofa, though she could only see the basic outline in the dark room. As she stared, she did a mental check and decided, no, there was nothing about the situation that made her feel unsafe.
She swore that she’d just closed her eyes when the damned alarm went off. She smacked the phone without looking, pressing the button to put an end to the old Fleetwood Mac song she woke up to every morning. When she took a deep breath in an attempt to work up the desire to get out of bed, her senses filled with the scents of coffee and…was that cinnamon rolls?
Forcing her eyes open, she lifted her head enough to look at her kitchen. Daniel eased the oven door open and pulled a tray out and yes, the sweet smell grew stronger. He’d baked the cinnamon rolls that had been sitting in her fridge, calling her name for the last three weeks. Every time she thought about baking them, she reminded herself that she didn’t need all the empty calories, but right now, that was the thing she needed most.
And coffee. He’d brewed coffee in the rarely used pot that sat on her counter.
Rolling onto her side, she curled so she could watch him. She smiled when he cursed as he pried a roll off the cookie sheet and then dropped it onto a plate. After the second time he burned his fingers, she said, “There’s a spatula in the second drawer.”
He glanced back. “I got it.” Then he cursed and rubbed his fingers again, squeezed the packet of icing over the plate, and headed in her direction, nabbing a cup off the counter as he went.
She pushed herself to sit as he set the coffee on her nightstand and held the plate out to her. She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips. “Breakfast in bed?”
“It’s not an omelet and hash browns, but it’s the best I could do.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” She leaned against the headboard and accepted a roll. She bit into it and moaned her appreciation. “Delicious. How’d you sleep?”
“Like a rock.” He looked around, but the closest chair was several feet away.
“Sit.” She nodded toward her bed.
He hesitated before easing down on the edge of her bed. “I hope you don’t mind me making breakfast. I was fidgety, but didn’t want to leave. I had no way of locking your door behind me.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked around the mouthful. “I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me.” She smiled when he did. She was quickly learning that little compliments went a long way with him—not in an egotistical way, just rebuilding the confidence that too often seemed chipped beyond repair.
“Did you get the varnish up?”
“I did. Should be dry by now.”
“We should open some windows. That stuff smells worse than paint.”
She touched her forehead when she noticed him staring at her bruise. “How is it?”
“Worse.”
“Well, wounds tend to get worse before getting better.” She focused on picking up her coffee as she said, “Remember that when you start counseling today.” She dared to cast a glance his way.
He sat, staring at a cinnamon roll.
“If you need to talk about anything,” she said, “anything at all, I’m here and not judging.”
He nodded before stuffing the roll in his mouth. He put the plate on her nightstand before standing. “You should get ready for work. I’ll see you later.”
And with that, he unlocked all the deadbolts on her door and disappeared.
Daniel dragged his hand over his face at the sound of a soft knock on the door. Jenna. A glance at his watch told him why she was knocking on his door. He hadn’t gone down to the café for lunch. She was probably wondering why.
He took a few cleansing breaths before opening the door. “Hey.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were here,” she said. “Hungry?”
“Sure.” He opened the door and stepped aside.
“I can just leave this if you want to be alone.”
Funny thing was that he did right up until he saw her standing there. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind company. That is, if you don’t mind standing.”
“I actually have a lead on some furniture.”
“I don’t want a handout.”
“It’s not for you.” She put the bag she’d carried upstairs onto the counter and turned to face him. “Eventually, I’ll rent it as partially furnished.” She shrugged as if that had been her plan all along.
He wasn’t going to argue. It’d be great to have a chair. Or a bed. He’d slept like a rock on her couch the night before. He estimated that he’d gotten a solid twelve hours’ sleep before waking up to the sound of her snoring softly. He grinned as he recalled the sound. Not obnoxious snoring, just the heavy breathing of a body completely worn out.
After a few minutes, he had gotten up, used the bathroom, and washed his face. He’d considered going to his apartment, but he had no way to lock the door behind him and damned if he’d leave the door open. Instead, he’d quietly made coffee and sat at the table drinking and watching the lump in the bed, fighting the urge to curl up next to her. Something told him she wouldn’t find the same kind of comfort from his holding her that he would.
She set the last container on the counter and met his gaze. “I don’t expect you to tell me how it went, but…you did go, right?”
He shifted, recalling how humiliating it’d been explaining to a stranger why he was sitting there seeking help. “Yeah, I went.”
She didn’t press, but he thought she likely wanted to know more. Maybe he just wanted to share more.
“I don’t think it’s going to help.”
“You can’t know that after one session, Daniel. The first session is always awkward. You know you’re just trying to feel each other out and let the counselor know the deal. It’ll take a few times before you feel comfortable enough to really let him…her?”
“Her.”
“It’ll take time before you are ready to really let her in on what’s going on.”
“You’re speaking from experience?”
“I went to counseling for months after my divorce. I mean, Peter left me with some pretty deep insecurities that still bite me in the ass when I least expect it. I’m still working on that. It takes a long time to heal. Don’t expect miracles, okay?”
He sighed as he opened the container. “Meatloaf? It’s not Tuesday.”
She smiled. “Well, someone once told me that meatloaf was your favorite. I thought today might be a good day for you to have your favorite.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
“I meant what I said this morning. I’m here if you want to talk.”
Taking a breath, he let it out slowly. “Not right now, but I’ll keep your offer in mind. But since you’re here, I stopped by Carson’s on the way home and picked up some paint samples. I think you should consider something similar to what you have in your apartment. It really makes the space seem even larger.” He spread out the samples he’d picked up and smiled when she pointed to the same one he had liked best. “I think two gallons would be enough. Whenever you’re ready to tackle this place.”
“I can splurge for some paint if you’re willing to slap it on the walls.”
He nodded and grabbed her binder of plans for the café, intending to keep her mind and the topic of their conversation off his problems.
Chapter 11
Jenna smiled as a man sat at the counter. “Good afternoon.”
“Ma’am.”
“Something to drink?” she asked as she slid a menu to him. She sensed something off about him. The way he watched her—not looked at her, but watched her—as he ordered a diet soda set her on edge. She liked to take a few minutes to chat with her customers, especially ones she’d not met before, but she didn’t feel much like trying to make that hometown connection with this man. She’d never met him, but he seemed to be judging her.
She focused on filling a glass for him and then set it on the counter and pulled a straw from her apron. “Know what you want?”
“How’s the meatloaf?”
“Best in town,” she said with a warm smile. “Or so I like to think. Mashed potatoes and a roll?”
“Sounds good.”
She stuck his ticket to the order wheel and grabbed a coffeepot from the burner to top off various cups and check on the diners. All the while, she kept an eye on the man at the counter. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anyone as interested in the café itself as he seemed to be. He looked up, his eyes traveling the length of the wall and counters and then moving on to look around the dining room. As if he were memorizing every inch of the building.
Or making a note of the location of her security cameras?
She returned the coffeepot and went into the kitchen, where she spun the wheel until she found the man’s order. “Fill this right away,” she said to Scott. “I want that guy out of here. He’s making me nervous.”
She left him to it and went back to the dining room to see what the stranger was up to now.
He’d grabbed a newspaper while she was gone, but as soon as she reappeared, she felt his gaze on her. Maybe all Daniel’s training was getting to her. All his warnings about how vulnerable she was had started eating away at her confidence. Or maybe this was the moment he’d been warning her about. It certainly felt like this guy was casing her café.
Scott hit the bell. Jenna was relieved to see it was the meatloaf that she’d requested he hurry to put together. She slid the plate onto the counter and nodded to the half-empty soda. “Refill?”
“Please,” he said, staring at her with his dark eyes.
She stuck the glass under the dispenser, hoping he would eat and leave without incident. As she returned the drink to the customer, she even debated running upstairs to see if Daniel was up yet. He didn’t usually appear for lunch until a bit later in the afternoon, but she was confident that if asked, he’d come sit in the diner, just to keep an eye on the man.
The temptation was strong, but so was her determination to stop letting the men in her life swoop in and save her. She was aware of this man. He was on her radar. She pulled the order pad from her apron and started jotting notes in case she needed it later. Brown hair, mid-fifties, moustache, overweight...
“Ma’am?”
She looked at the man she’d been describing on the pad and smiled. “Everything okay?”
“You’re the owner?”
“Yeah.” She slipped the pad back in her pocket and closed the distance between them. “Something wrong with your lunch?”
“No.” He offered her what seemed to be the first genuine smile she’d seen from him since he’d entered. “Actually, I think you’re right. Best in town. Don’t tell my wife that.” He chuckled.
She gave him a light laugh, but her sense of unease hadn’t lightened. There was some underlying purpose to his sitting at her counter eating meatloaf, and she suspected he was about to get to it. Her nerves sizzled with a wave of anxiety.
“I can see why Daniel thinks highly of you.”
She leaned back at the mentioned of her new friend.
“I’m his uncle. Charlie Burke.”
Ah, he hadn’t been casing the café. He’d been judging Daniel’s work.
She accepted the hand that Charlie held out to her. “Jenna Reid. Thank you for letting Daniel borrow your truck and tools to help me out. I appreciate it.”
“Well, I appreciate you giving him a place to stay. And food to eat.”
“He’s earned it,” she said. Daniel hadn’t been completely open about his relationship with his uncle, but she suspected it wasn’t a solid one. As sensitive as Daniel was about feeling like he was taking advantage of her, she wanted to make sure Charlie knew that wasn’t the case. “He’s done amazing work on the café.”
He nodded and looked around again. “He painted.”
“And the wainscoting and fixed the tables. He’s been incredibly helpful.”
Charlie kept nodding, slowly and thoughtfully.
“You have something to say to that,” she said.
“You seem like a nice person.”
“I like to think so.” She didn’t mean to sound defensive, but she had been from the moment he’d walked in.
“Look, Danny…he has problems.”
“Anger issues. He’s told me.”
“He said he’s doing the work at night? When you’re closed?”
“Yes.”
He gave that thoughtful nod again. “Are you ever here alone with him?”
And there it was. What he’d come here to say. She drew a breath. “Mr. Burke—”
“Charlie.”
“Mr. Burke. Daniel has told me about his past. His discharge and trouble holding a job. I assure you, if I felt the slightest bit threatened by him, he wouldn’t be working with me to improve my building, let alone living in it. He’s been nothing but kind and helpful.”
“I don’t mean to offend,” he said more gently. “But I know Danny a lot better than you.”
Taking a breath, she swallowed before speaking. “Maybe you don’t know him nearly as well as you think.” Biting her lip, she debated before walking around the counter and sitting on the stool next to him. “We all have things in our lives that we wish we could change. That we’d like to take back. If those things are constantly thrown in our faces, how are we supposed to ever grow and learn and move on? He’s suffered the consequences of his actions, and he deserves a chance to rebuild his life. I know you tried to give him that chance. I don’t think you could be any more upset that it didn’t work out than Daniel is. I think letting you down hurt his pride even more than losing his career. You gave him a chance and he blew it and he knows that. So maybe this will be the chance that works out.”
“He give you that bruise?”
She instinctively touched her forehead. “I hit my head on a table.”
“How’d you manage that?”
She scoffed. “I dropped my magic wand. Look, you have your reasons for giving up on Daniel, and I have my reasons for standing by him.”
“You seem like a real nice lady. I don’t want him taking advantage of you.”
“He’s not.” She gestured around her. “He’s working for his room and board. If anything, I owe him. I’ve had estimates done for the work he’s doing. I know what this would cost me if I hired a contractor. That’s why I hadn’t hired a contractor. Listen, it’s nice of you to be concerned about me, but I’m fine. So is Daniel. He’s working through some things, but he’s fine. Lunch is on the house. A thank-you for letting Daniel use your supplies.”
“Ms. Reid,” he called as she stood. “I didn’t know until things got bad, but Danny’s dad used to take out an awful lot of frustration on my sister. She made all kinds of excuses for him. She always had a way to justify what he’d done. When she was gone, I’m pretty sure Danny got the brunt of that anger. He never said so, but his father never remarried and he wasn’t the kind to not take his anger out on someone.”
Jenna’s heart ached for Daniel. “All the more reason to show him some compassion, don’t you think?”
“Listen to me,” Charlie said as he leaned a bit closer. “That kind of childhood sticks with a man. Shapes who he becomes whether he wants it to or not. Maybe that bump on your head was an accident. This time. But it’s a hell of a cycle to break once it starts. I tried to save my sister, but she was so determined to help that man. Excuse after excuse, reason after reason. I don’t pretend to understand why, but I do know that she always thought she could fix him if she just loved him enough. But nothing she ever did was enough. I don’t want to see another good woman fall into that cycle. Find another cause, Ms. Reid. Danny’s not going to be worth the trouble.”
