Written in the Sand (Pacific Shores Book 4) Page 3

  “Well, if he doesn’t kill you, I’m going to do it when you get home!”

  Jalen reached over and laid his hand on her arm. His look said “take a breath.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. Rem, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just so relieved you are alright. Can he bring you all the way to Marinville?”

  Rem exchanged a few muffled words with the driver, and then came back on the line. “Yeah. He’s says he can drop me at the Thrift and Save.”

  “Okay, give me a call when you get to the edge of town and I’ll meet you over there.”

  “Okay. Bye, Ri.” The phone clicked off in her ear and she dropped it into her lap with a relieved sigh. Now her only worry was whether he’d been picked up by a serial murderer.

  “He alright?”

  “For now.” Riley nodded.

  “He’s a good kid, Riley. I see a lot of good changes in him from two years ago.”

  She rolled her eyes but said, “Yeah, thanks.” A puff of pent-up tension she didn’t know she’d been holding shot from her lungs. She had been trying to be a good influence on him. She took him to church with her whenever she could talk him into it. And he’d even gone to the Bible camp she’d paid for last summer.

  She lost the battle she’d been waging and the tears spilled over, but she kept her face averted and swiped quietly at the betraying wetness. The last thing Jalen probably wanted was an emotional female basket case on his hands.

  By the time the school came into view, she had herself in hand once more and her eyes were dry. Still, when Jalen parked next to his rig and she came around the Jeep to get her keys from him, she kept her face averted. “Thanks for coming with me, Jalen. I appreciate it.” She reached out one hand for her keys, still not looking at him.

  “Ri? He’s going to be okay. Anyone who wanted to harm him wouldn’t have let him use their phone.” He touched her chin and bent down, drawing her gaze to his. His expression softened and he tilted his head, taking in what she could only assume were her red rimmed eyes. “He’ll be okay.” His hand slid up to rest against the side of her face. And his thumb stroked soft caresses against her cheek. He didn’t offer any other words, but just his closeness was comfort.

  Riley knew she should pull away, but everything in her drew her to the support and care he offered. He had her full attention and she couldn’t find the strength to retreat.

  The brown of his eyes was dark chocolate drizzled with caramel highlights. One eyebrow had a tiny scar through it, and the dark stubble coating his jaw only accentuated the angular masculinity of his face. His lower lip was full, his upper one slightly thinner with a distinct dip in the center. She wondered what it would feel like to have those lips against her own, and her mouth went dry. Heat seared through her and she stepped back, forcing her gaze to the side of her Jeep.

  Jalen was offering nothing more than consolation and comfort after a long trying week, and she shouldn’t even be contemplating kisses when her little brother could still be in danger, even if it was probably true that Rem would be fine.

  Jalen swiped his cheek against one shoulder and settled his hands against his hips. His eyes narrowed, honing in on her. “Where are you going tonight?”

  She worked the weary muscles at the back of her neck. “I have some remodeling to finish on a house I’ve been working on.”

  “Let me come help you? You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  “No no. It’s fine. I’m sure you’re tired after a long day.”

  “And you’re not?”

  She offered a weary smile of acknowledgement. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll be better if you let me come help you.” He grinned charmingly.

  “Jalen…isn’t there some woman somewhere waiting in anticipation to spend the evening with you?”

  His grin broadened. “A guy could hope.” He tilted her a look. “I’m trying to get her to say yes to me right now.”

  She laughed and couldn’t deny that her heart soared to learn he wasn’t connected to anyone else. She also couldn’t resist a flirtatious retort. “Fine, but only if you buy me Chinese takeout on the way.” She bit her lip. Weston Hollingsworth had been asking her out for over a year now and she’d staunchly resisted him every time. How had Jalen elicited a “yes” the first time he asked to spend an evening with her?

  His brows lifted. “The lady drives a hard bargain, I see.”

  She was in with both feet now so she offered a teasing wince. “Too much to ask?”

  All humor seeped out of his expression. “Not at all.” His gaze roamed her face, pausing on her lips before rebounding to her eyes. “I’ll even throw in dessert.”

  She, snatched her keys from him, yanked open her Jeep door, and scuttled inside before she could be tempted to ask what type of dessert he meant. “Follow me then,” she said, just before she slammed the door and started her engine to drown out his knowing chuckles.

  Chapter 3

  Once they were at the little house on Second with their bag of Chinese takeout, Riley dug out a couple paper plates and plastic cups. She was here often enough that she’d left a supply of things like that to have on hand.

  Jalen stepped into the kitchen and set his sports bag in one corner as he took in the freshly remodeled room. “Wow, I like it. Did you do this yourself?”

  Riley glanced around the space. She’d painted the walls a deep red and the cupboards stark white. She’d replaced the doors on a couple of the cupboards with glass ones, and added decorative shelving to the interior. She’d already added some red dishes she’d found at the thrift store in Portland to the cupboards as display items. The stainless steel sink gleamed from where it was set into the shiny black granite countertop. The appliances were new, but had a retro look and were deep red to match the walls. Near the bay window was an old fashioned corner booth with bright red buttoned-leather cushioning.

  She placed the paper plates on the small Formica and chrome table that nestled into the corner booth. “Yeah, I had fun with this one, except for that red paint. It took three coats to get good coverage.”

  “This is amazing, Riley.” Admiration shone in his expression. He trailed one hand over the stainless faucet. “Are you doing this for yourself?”

  She shook her head and took her time pulling two cream sodas from the interior of the fridge so she could compose her features. She would love to remodel a little place like this for herself. But when her father had kicked her out of the house the year she turned eighteen, she’d made herself a promise. Even though he’d generously supplied a bank account for her, she wouldn’t spend one red cent of his guilt-assuaging gift on herself. She grasped the cans in one hand and turned back toward the booth. It was likely the red color that triggered the memory and sent one hand to trace the scar just behind her ear in her hairline.

  There had been a year when Mom had gone for reds in one of her many remodels – deep crimson walls, a red velvet bedding set, red glass lamps, and cream accents like the polar bear fleece on the floor.

  Katherine, you’re a whore! Who’s the father?

  You are! Dylan, I swear!

  The whimper her mother loosed pierced Riley clean through because she knew Mommy was trying to be quiet and not wake her. Still, she’d peered around the corner, Mr. Griz, her stuffed bear, tucked safely under one arm.

  Daddy had Mommy pinned to the wall of their bedroom with one hand around her throat.

  Daddy, please don’t hurt Mommy anymore. Riley was by his side tugging on his arm before she’d even realized her feet had moved. A dangerous place to be.

  He’d proven that in the next moment with the blow that had sent her sliding across the hard wood floor into the corner of the cherry-wood footboard.

  With a blink, she returned to the table and settled onto one side of the cushioned bench.

  Jalen watched her with that soft scrutiny of his that seemed to be able to cut past all the scar tissue to her very heart.

&nb
sp; She wondered how long her thoughts had wandered. “No, I’m not doing this one for myself. I’m flipping it.” She didn’t add that every penny of profit she made on the places she remodeled and flipped went straight to women’s shelters. So far, since Nate’s death, she’d remodeled and flipped four houses and had donated the proceeds to a different shelter each time.

  Jalen sat on the opposite cushion and kept his distance, for which she was thankful because this was suddenly seeming much too…something. Intimate? Desirable? Scary? Yes to all three. Especially when he was looking at her with such gentleness in his expression.

  Terror clawed at her throat. “Do you mind saying grace?”

  “Not at all.” He bowed his head and offered up a quick prayer of thanks for the food, adding thanks that Rem had called to ease Riley’s mind about where he was, and ending with a request for his continued safety.

  And then the silence settled again as they dished food from the cardboard containers onto their plates.

  She chastised herself. She’d known a lot of men from church between the Dad-and-Nate-years and now. Good men. Honest and loving men. She should be able to let the past go. Not all men were monsters.

  Jalen took a slow bite of sweet and sour pork, studying her over the top of his wooden chopsticks. He chewed methodically while his gaze lingered leisurely. Searching… Analyzing… Admiring.

  This was one of those good men. Her face heated and she suddenly took great interest in her chow mien noodles. She stirred them with her chopsticks but couldn’t resist a peek back up at him. It had been two years. Could she let someone past the barriers she’d built up? Should she?

  He grinned unrepentantly and swiped at his mouth with a paper napkin. “So…we lost contact a while back. Tell me what you’ve been up to the last year and a half.”

  Riley took her time, working at getting the next bite of noodles just-so on her chopsticks. He hadn’t sounded angry that she’d essentially cut him off. And there was genuine interest in his question. The touch of guilt was coupled with regret. Where would things have gone for them if she hadn’t broken off contact? Finally, realizing he still waited in that patient way of his, she shrugged. “Not much. Working at the elementary school as a teacher’s aide now.”

  He nodded. “Knew that.”

  She paused. “You did?”

  The soda can crinkled beneath his grip as he sipped slowly, watching her over the rim, then nodded as he set it back down. “I did.”

  She waved a hand around the interior of the room. “Been flipping some houses.”

  He twisted the can in a circle on the table. “Knew that too.”

  She pressed on, not wanting to contemplate the ramifications of his words at the moment. “Other than that I’ve just been helping Mom and Rem get by, and doing a little volunteer work at church.”

  “Heard you started a Sunday school class for survivors of abuse?” His angled gaze held concern. “How are you doing with that yourself?”

  She’d nearly forgotten how direct he could be. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact that he’d obviously been checking up on her a little over the years. Thrilled and terrified all at once about covered it. What she did know was that she wasn’t ready to talk with him about Dad. Or Nate. She ignored his last question and asked one of her own. “How do you know so much about what I’ve been doing?”

  He shrugged. “Dakota must have mentioned it.” A sly smile lifted one side of his lips. “I may have asked about you a time or two—or two hundred.”

  For a moment, Riley allowed the thrill to override the terror. She tilted her head. “Talking about me behind my back? I’m hurt.” That flirtation was outrageous and she ought to be ashamed of herself.

  Humor lingering in his eyes, he held up his phone and then set it next to her plate. “If you’re willing to give me your number again, I can get my information straight from the source.” The wink he tossed her was so quick she might have missed it if she’d blinked.

  Her fingers trembled as she wiped them on a napkin. Her heart was beating so hard one might have thought the phone could leap up and slap her at any second. She should slide the device back to him, walk him to the door, and say goodnight. Or at the very least enter her number and then send him on his way. But the thought of painting alone tonight suddenly held very little appeal. “Hmm…my phone number is going to cost you.”

  “Oh yeah?” He chuckled and eased against the back of his bench, stretching his legs out so far that one of his feet touched her ankle. He folded his arms and raised his brows. “What’ll it cost me?”

  “Man power.”

  “Deal.” He reached out and nudged the phone closer to her.

  She laughed. “You don’t even know what I need you to do yet.”

  With a quick shift of movement, he settled his arms on the table and leaned forward. “What I do know is that for the past year and a half I’ve thought about you every day. Wondered how you were. Wished we hadn’t lost contact.” He tilted his head. “I knew you needed some space…but now I’m hoping we can reconnect. So whatever you want me to do will be worth it.” Another wink levered her pulse up one more notch.

  She pretended to be thinking hard before she slowly lifted the phone and tapped in her number. A peek over the top of the screen revealed he was grinning from ear to ear. Face heating, she held it out to him.

  He took it, studied the entry she’d just made, and then pressed the call button. From her purse, her phone rang. She didn’t rise to get it, but cocked him a curious look.

  He grinned and held up one finger, apparently listening to her voice mail greeting. After a moment he said, “Hi Riley. This is Jalen. Just wanted to make sure you had my number in your phone. Now you have no excuse not to call me the next time you need something.” His gaze held a gentle humor touched with a hint of seriousness as he studied her across the table.

  Her heart seemed to melt in her chest. She took a breath, held it, then eased it out slowly.

  Jalen hung up the phone and then grinned at her outright. “Well I think my job here is done.” With that, he stood and reached for the sports bag he’d chucked into the corner when they arrived. “Thanks. Have a good night.” He took a deliberate step toward the door.

  She laughed. “Don’t even think about it, mister. Just head on down the hall and get ready to do some painting.”

  “Mind if I shower first?” He arched a brow.

  She swallowed, not sure she wanted to contemplate him in the shower, with her just down the hall. She delayed a response by teasing, “So you’re one of those guys who’ll do anything to get out of a few minutes of work, huh?”

  He chuckled. “Trust me you’ll be a lot happier in cramped quarters with me if you let me rinse off the soccer practice.”

  “I don’t keep towels or soap here.”

  He lifted his gym bag. “I have both.”

  “Sure then.” She pointed through the living room. “The bathroom’s the first door on the right down the hall.”

  “Thanks, I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Sure that’s what they all say,” she called to his retreating back.

  His laughter drifted from the hall. She glanced around the room and realized how good it had felt to just converse, and enjoy a man’s company. And yet…she pressed her lips together and one palm drifted to her lower abdomen…there were so many reasons she shouldn’t let this go another step further. Lord, do you see me down here? I’m trying to move on and put the past behind me, but there are some mistakes I’ll never be able to escape. It wouldn’t be fair for me to ask others to live with them too, now would it? With a sigh, she rose and made quick work of cleaning up the kitchen.

  She’d only been in the bedroom painting for a few minutes when, true to his word, he slipped through the door. She was standing on the old paint splattered chair she always used to reach the high corners. He stopped beside her, and his intoxicating cologne and shampoo combination wafted up to her. A longing to close he
r eyes and inhale more deeply nearly caught her off guard, but she stopped herself just in time.

  She forced herself to be all business. “I’m on the final coat, so I’ll do the cutting in near the ceiling if you don’t mind manning the roller behind me? I’m going to put trim up around the floor, so just use that old piece of cardboard and get as close to the floor as possible but it doesn’t have to be perfect because it will be covered by the trim.”

  He maintained his position and settled his hands on his hips. “Are you going to drip on me? Because I happen to love this shirt.”

  She glanced down to see he was wearing an old green Seattle Sounders T-shirt that already had a hole in one shoulder. Glancing from him to the paint in her cup and back, she lifted her brush to draw his attention to the cerulean color. “Sounder colors are blue and green, so if this gets on your shirt it will just look like it’s supposed to be there.”

  He growled good naturedly. “Woman, this is the lucky shirt that I wore for every game they won last season.”

  She angled him a look. “Which shirt did you wear for the games they lost?”

  He brushed aside her question and bent to pick up the roller and work it into the paint in the tray. “Let’s just say this shirt wielded more power on some days than others.”

  She laughed out loud. “My, that is a powerful shirt. I could get you a garbage bag to protect its mighty magic?”

  He chuckled and ended the silliness with his lifted roller. “Alright, where do I start? Here good?” He pointed to the section just to her left.

  She nodded and they settled into a quiet routine. Again the silence was companionable and comforting instead of awkward. Riley’s iPad streamed Third Day from under the rag she’d tossed over it to protect it, and every once in awhile Jalen softly sang a few bars of a song.

  She liked that more than she ought to. She didn’t recall ever hearing Nate sing, much less to a Christian song. They were nearly around the perimeter of the room now and Jalen had long since caught up to her and was working his roller over the section of wall in front of her now.