Where She Belongs (Destiny Falls) Read online

He faced her. His gaze lowered to the bunny slippers, and his mouth twitched. “Molly said to feed you.”

  Molly said. “I thought you’d left.” Jess tightened the bathrobe’s frayed belt. “Didn’t the door slam?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t expect it to swing shut so fast.”

  She didn’t want him apologizing. It made her feel mean. “So you were leaving?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Amusement flickered in his light blue eyes.

  I sound like a witch. And probably looked ridiculous. She refused to squirm beneath his penetrating gaze, though. She belonged here—he didn’t.

  Yet Adam Wright looked more at home in her mother’s kitchen than Jess had felt in years.

  “I went to get my dog. That’s why the door slammed,” he said in a deep, mellow voice. “She’s on the back porch. Hope that’s okay. The truck drives her stir-crazy after awhile.”

  “Oh.” Heat climbed her neck. First her mom, now the dog, even Jess—didn’t he treat anyone like trash? It would be a lot easier to follow through on her plan of kicking him out if he did. “You shouldn’t leave her on the porch. Mom leases the pasture to the neighbors. The horses wander up to the fence sometimes, even at night.”

  “Sheba doesn’t chase horses. An irate mare nipped her in the rear when she was a puppy. She learned her lesson.” His gaze drifted over Jess, cheeky and bold. “Nice housecoat.”

  The heat exploded, splashing her face and shooting sparks to her nerve-endings. So much for putting him off-guard. The man couldn’t be swayed.

  She focused on an invisible spot above his left shoulder. “It’s cold out. You should bring her in.”

  “It’s nearly April. Not cold for a German shepherd who sleeps outdoors eight months of the year.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She can come in.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. With the ivory shirt setting off his wide shoulders and his hips encased in the low-riding jeans, he dominated the country kitchen. Hopefully, he would seem less imposing with his dog around, less likely to cause her to combust again. She couldn’t kick him out now that he’d fixed the pancakes. She did have some manners.

  “We’ll put her in the mudroom,” she said. “If she barks, there’s less chance Mom will hear her.”

  “You’ll eat with me, then?” Half-turning, he transferred the browned pancakes to a platter. He ladled three more dollops of batter onto the hot pan, and the thick mixture sizzled.

  “I guess.” Her grumbling stomach seconded the motion.

  “You guess? That’s your invite?”

  Her face warmed. “I’m asking.”

  “Asking what?”

  “For you to stay.” She smiled stiffly.

  “Stay and...?”

  “Eat.”

  “Stay and eat. Okay, great. I will. Thanks.” He lowered the element beneath the gurgling coffeepot. “Like pulling teeth,” he murmured.

  A smile played around his mouth as he winked, and images of the seventeen-year-old guy who’d once teased her and Molly filled her mind.

  Her tummy fluttered. For a second, she almost felt “thirteen going on fourteen” again. Adam had shot her that same killer wink when she’d caught him staring at her over the triple-patty Load ’Em Up Special he’d inhaled during her and Molly’s double fourteenth birthday party at a long-defunct burger joint.

  However, back then, coerced by his aunt to join the family outing, he’d winked at Jess to torment her—no different than tormenting his cousin. Now, he probably got his jollies by keeping the rude city girl off-balance.

  The trick was not to let him know how well it worked.

  He strolled to the back door and let in his dog.

  “Hi, girl,” Jess said when Sheba nosed past her. The German shepherd’s tail wagged, and her brown eyes glittered.

  “She likes you.”

  Sheba’s winking master sounded surprised. Score one for Rude City Girl. How gratifying to up-end him for once.

  Jess tore a bit of warm pancake from the stack on the platter and fed the piece to the dog. Sheba gobbled the tidbit, then woofed softly. Jess rewarded her with another chunk of pancake.

  “Of course she likes me.” She wiped her hands on a tea towel, then flipped the remaining pancakes on the stove. “When I was a kid, I had a German shepherd who could have been her twin. She loved pancakes, too.”

  Adam gazed at her with a new light in his eyes. Respect or bafflement? Hard to tell.

  “What did you call her?”

  “Sheena.”

  He flashed a devastating grin. “Great minds.”

  Jess smiled back at him before she could stop herself. Something subtle had changed between them. Because they liked the same breed of dog?

  Whatever, she’d take it over the unease stretching between them earlier.

  She closed the cupboards while he settled Sheba in the mudroom with a bowl of fresh water and a promise for an entire pancake if she didn’t bark again.

  “By the way,” Jess said while he was out of view. “Thanks again for getting me from the airport so Molly could stay here with Mom. She liked the toast. You were right, she was hungry. She loved the flower. I left the glass on her dresser.”

  See? She could do this. Humor the man to placate Molly, then send him on his way.

  He emerged from the mudroom, wiping his hands on his butt. “It was no big deal.”

  “Sure it was.” Jess stacked pancakes on the platter. “You said Mom wouldn’t mind if you stayed, and you were right about that, too. She said you knew Pete from some group that mentors teenagers?”

  He nodded. “Destiny Falls Young Achievers.”

  “Well, I’m sure you could have found a better way to spend your Friday night. I appreciate everything you’ve done. I really do. I’m sorry if I’ve come off a little, um, rude.”

  “You haven’t been rude.”

  “I wasn’t the height of graciousness when you offered to stay.”

  “When I wouldn’t leave, you mean?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t get you from the airport to score points in the good guy department, Jess. I went because Molly asked me to and because I respect your mom. As for staying, that’s turning out to my benefit, I think. It’s not every day I have a chance to make pancakes at midnight. Now I get to share a nice meal with you and a couple of damn cute purple bunnies.”

  His smile, slow and incredibly sexy, warmed her from her soon-to-frizz curls down to her rabbit-eared toes. “You’re okay, Adam Wright, you know that?”

  “How about you taste my pancakes and then you can judge my okay-ability?”

  She smiled back. Darn it, but it was difficult not to.

  “Deal.”

  Adam riffled through the buffet drawer where Jess had said her mom stored tablecloths. Apparently, Nora was a stickler for protecting the original finish of the old table. Adam wouldn’t know an antique from a well-used piece of furniture if they both clubbed him in the face, but he admired Jess’s desire not to disrupt her mother’s routines. After rolling out the unwelcome mat with the disapproving vibes he’d given off earlier, he wanted to help make her feel as comfortable as possible.

  He chose the first cloth beneath a pile of napkins, then moved Jess’s purse onto a chair out of the way. He arranged the tablecloth and located a bottle of pancake syrup while she washed the messy counter.

  “Plates and cups?” he asked as she rinsed the washcloth and folded it over the faucet.

  “I’ll bring them. You can get the butter, though. Thanks.”

  He retrieved the butter and cream from the fridge and joined her at the table. She stood motionless, staring at the tablecloth, the stacked plates sitting by her hand.

  Uh-oh. “Jess?”

  Her gaze lifted. “It’s nothing,” she murmured, glancing away. “Just nostalgia.”

  Bull. He put down the cream and butter dish. Her dark hair hung past her shoulders in tight spirals, starting to dry. When she�
��d showered, she’d removed her makeup, and shadows smudged the skin beneath her eyes. She looked impossibly young and vulnerable.

  He rested a hand on her shoulder, and her fingers twitched on the table.

  “This was my dad’s favorite tablecloth,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize Mom still had it.”

  Way to go, Wright. Pick the wrong freaking tablecloth.

  “Why wouldn’t she?”

  He watched Jess’s shoulders rise then slowly lower. “Mom made this tablecloth when I was eight... because Dad used to bring her buttercups. I even embroidered a couple. We worked on it together, for him. One of the few things we did together.” Her fingers glided over a loosely stitched buttercup. “See here? My masterpiece.”

  “You still miss him.”

  She nodded.

  Adam’s gut twisted. How awful it must feel to lose a loving parent. The difficult years with Pop had often felt like a loss. Their constant moving and Pop’s drinking, his self-condemnation and sadness. Through the hard times, Adam had clung tightly to the good memories. With the help of his mother and his older brother, he’d hung on.

  Maybe Jess, faced with the depth of her mother’s grief, was only trying to hold on to the sweet, whispery havens of her youth, too.

  “It must be rough, losing first your dad and then a stepfa—” Damn it. He’d nearly mentioned Pete again. The last time hadn’t proven successful.

  Her fingers fluttered on the tablecloth. “My feelings for Pete are complicated. I loved my dad very much. When Mom and Pete got married...” She moistened her lips. “My mom and I had a lot of problems. Pete and I never warmed to each other.” She looked up. “I’m sorry, we’d better eat if you want to get home before morning.” Off she went, collecting cutlery, coffee, and the pancake platter with exaggerated effort.

  She’d just hung out her “Closed” sign. Adam recognized the indicators from earlier in the evening in the self-conscious way she moved around the kitchen, pink bathrobe flowing around the ugly nightgown that did a horrible job of disguising her curves.

  Well, all right, then. She didn’t need him butting in on her limited time with Nora, stirring up emotions best discussed with her mother, not him.

  He poured the decaffeinated coffee and pulled out their chairs. While they ate, he made polite conversation, asking about her job as a buyer for Arlington Shoes. It was a name he recognized from a Kamloops mall as a pricey national chain—classy and sophisticated, like Jess, when she wasn’t swathed in faded pink cotton.

  Even now, wearing the tattered robe, she radiated an elegance that fascinated even as it reminded him they lived in two different worlds.

  Jess lived in the world Crysta had left him for.

  But he wouldn’t think about his ex-fiancée and what he discovered he’d lost when he’d tracked her down.

  Especially not what he had lost.

  “What does a shoe buyer do, anyway?” he asked between forkfuls of syrup-drenched pancake. “Go shopping with a vengeance?”

  Jess smiled, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for managing to encourage her to unwind.

  “Attend trade shows, meet sales reps, decide which styles to buy or arrange to manufacture for our stores.” She glanced at him over her coffee cup. “There’s a lot of travel involved.”

  “I’ll bet.” To destinations nowhere near as ordinary as rural B.C. “Such as?”

  “Europe, South America, Asia.”

  “Sounds glamorous compared to trekking through the bush.”

  Her gaze wavered. “You’re a logger?”

  “Nope.” He downed more pancakes. “Consulting forester.”

  “You have your own company?”

  “Don’t sound so shocked.”

  “I’m not. Not that you own a consulting firm, just that it’s located in Destiny Falls.”

  Why did city dwellers always assume that hicks from the sticks were business no-minds?

  “Why do you say that?”

  She sipped her coffee. “The small population, for one. Wouldn’t a regional center like Kamloops make a better base for your company than a tiny place like Destiny Falls?”

  “Not necessarily. In fact, if we’re talking small contracts, the more local the firm, the better.” Warming to his subject, he swabbed pancakes in syrup. “The Vancouver firms that hunt the big contracts—that’s where my competition lies. Right now I’m bidding on a contract that’ll bring in several months of work. Not only for me and the guys I usually hire, but also as summer jobs for our university kids. To win it, I need to convince the timber-company bigwigs that I can provide the same bang for their buck.”

  Jess nodded, although her thoughtful gaze held doubts.

  “It’s not only a matter of coming in cheaper.” Adam drank his coffee. “I have a good reputation with small contracts, but can I be trusted with a big one? I need to prove I’m reliable, dependable, rock-solid. My success with current jobs is paramount. There’s no margin for error.”

  “I know where you’re coming from there. Mistakes in merchandising can be disastrous.” She set down her cup and lifted a forkful of pancake. “It sounds like winning this contract means a lot to you,” she said before closing her full lips around the fork’s tines.

  He tore his gaze away from the tempting sight.

  “It does. The Vancouver firm I’m probably competing against rarely hires locals. The town gets a boost from the cash their guys spend while they’re here, but then they leave again.” Like Jess would. Like Crysta did—taking his future with her. “What good does that do a struggling community like Destiny Falls?”

  “I see your point.”

  “The purpose of the program Pete and I ran for Destiny Falls Young Achievers is to help kids with bright futures realize they don’t have to leave the area for work. After they earn their degrees, they can return to make their homes here. Assist in building the local economy instead of taking their money and expertise elsewhere.”

  “Expanding your business will help them realize that?”

  “That’s the plan. I won’t sacrifice my lifestyle to do this, Jess, but I don’t think I’ll have to. I’ll continue doing fieldwork and bidding on small jobs when it suits me, and I’ll tackle the administrative load from my home office. The point behind winning this contract is simply to get started. To get the kids believing they can achieve success in their hometown, too.”

  She sliced her pancakes. “It sounds like when you commit to something, you give it your all.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I told you perseverance was my middle name.”

  She blushed, a delightful, rosy glow. “You make hard work sound easy.”

  “No. Worthwhile.”

  Her gaze swept to the ceiling. Was she thinking of her mother?

  Good. He liked that. And what it suggested about her.

  She cared. Perhaps more than she wanted to admit.

  Who knew, maybe Jess would realize she owed it to Nora to put in more than a cursory appearance. Maybe she’d hang around town a while and try to sort through whatever had gone wrong between them.

  Or maybe he was pushing his own set of values on her, hoping to see something that wasn’t there.

  Either way, it didn’t really matter. He’d promised to repair his aunt and uncle’s rotting fence this weekend. Next week looked jam-packed: meetings, fieldwork, a trip up the valley come Tuesday or Wednesday. By the time he returned to Destiny Falls, Jess Morgan could well be gone.

  As would the chance to get to know her better.

  The idea bothered him much more than it should.

  Chapter Three

  WHAT MUST JESSIE think of me?

  Nora Olson sat beside her grown daughter in Peter’s cherished classic luxury coupe. The morning sun streaming through the open garage door mocked her. She was an anxious mess.

  She glanced at Jessie, who struggled to start the car’s rebuilt engine. In the four days since her daughter had come home, they’d shared several t
alks. However, each time Jessie broached difficult issues, Nora balked. She didn’t mean to. Her heartache for the mistakes of Jessie’s childhood haunted her, and her anguish over losing Peter remained too raw. Yet, witnessing Jessie’s confusion over her visible grief for Peter ate at her.

  Her daughter deserved an explanation. But how could she tell Jessie that Peter was the true love of her life, that his steady influence had always nourished her while her tumultuous feelings for Jessie’s father had left her drained? Jessie had adored Frank so, and Frank, who’d loved big and boisterous and grand, had doted on their only child.

  Nora couldn’t destroy Jessie’s memories by exposing another side of Frank—and further revealing her own flaws.

  Her daughter might think her weak, and she couldn’t bear that. Jessie was all she had now, and Nora was too big a coward to risk their fragile bond.

  Shredding her tissue, she watched Jessie turn the key again. The engine clicked, nothing else. Not even a whir or a whine.

  “It’s no use. The battery’s dead.” Jessie pulled out the key and looked at her. “When did you last drive the car?”

  “Not since before—” She couldn’t even say the words. “Not for some time. Peter used it mainly for work, you see, and what with our friends helping me out...”

  Jessie’s golden-brown eyes softened. Her lashes were long and dark, like Frank’s had been. “It’s okay, Mom. I knew your lawyer appointment was today. I should have checked the car before now.”

  Jessie had never understood Peter’s love for the classic automobile, or why Nora hadn’t insisted on a more reliable source of transportation. The answer was simple. She hadn’t required her own car, because she and Peter had done everything together.

  “But Peter tinkered with this car all the time. Why would it act up now that he’s—’’ Her breath hitched. “Darn it, I remember now. Peter parked in the driveway the day he—that Friday, and I didn’t move the car into the garage until the next night. Did I forget to turn off the headlights?” Since her husband’s passing, sometimes she truly thought she was losing her mind.

  Jessie checked the headlight knob. “Looks like that was it, all right.” She pushed the knob back in. “Why did you move the car?”