A Not-So-Perfect Past
“I’m not sure about better, but it might be more honest.”
“Yeah, well, honesty’s overrated,” she muttered. The few times she’d allowed her temper to get the better of her, she’d ended up with a lot of bruises. Besides, she couldn’t get mad at some troubled teenager. The town would probably pass out collectively in shock.
And take away the halo they’d branded her with.
“There will be consequences,” Jack told her as one of his officers called his name. “Kyle’s facing some serious charges. And this isn’t his first offense. It could mean time in juvenile hall for him. Excuse me for a minute,” he said before walking away.
While she was glad Kyle wasn’t seriously hurt, she just couldn’t feel bad for him. He’d only been here a few months, and he already had a reputation as a troublemaker. Although truth be told, he’d arrived with the stigma in place. Everyone had been concerned when Joe, a local accountant, and Karen, an elementary school teacher, had become Kyle’s foster parents. Married for close to twenty years and unable to have children of their own, they’d chosen to take in a juvenile delinquent instead of adopting an infant.
“You’re allowed to be pissed,” Dillon said.
She laughed and rubbed her temples. “That’s a new one. Usually people are telling me not to bother getting mad. Especially over things I can’t control.”
“I’m just saying you have the right to be angry. Most people would be.”
She dropped her hands. “I don’t want to be angry. I just want this to not have happened. I want to close my eyes and open them to discover this is all a bad dream.”
“That’s not how life is.”
“No kidding.”
He thumped his fisted hand against his thigh several times. “Since you can’t blink and make this disappear—”
“What if I wiggled my nose?”
He smiled and the effect was so sexy, she caught her breath and lowered her gaze. The last thing she needed was her hormones taking notice of Dillon Ward.
Of course, it’d been so long since she’d been aware of a man, she’d begun to doubt she even still had hormones.
The tow truck driver got into his truck and started hauling the SUV out. Dillon took a hold of her elbow and led her to the far corner.
“Unless your magic powers suddenly materialize,” he said, bending close so she could hear him over the noise, “you’re going to have to decide what your next step is.”
He still hadn’t dropped her elbow. His hand was large and very masculine against the bright pink of her puffy coat. His hold on her was light. Supportive. And steady. She could really use some steadiness now.
She swallowed. “I…I guess the next step is to call the insurance adjuster.”
“Yeah, but right now the exterior wall needs to be boarded up and, since the interior wall is weight-bearing, it’ll have to be jacked up temporarily.” He leaned back, his jaw tight, his eyes steady on hers. “I could take care of the exterior wall. I wouldn’t be able to do anything inside until tomorrow, though. That is, if you want my help.”
Her pulse skittered. Before she could answer, her dad barreled toward them. His weathered cheeks were red from the cold, his knit ski cap pulled down low over his ears.
Dillon dropped her arm and stepped back. Nina forced a smile for her father. “Good news, Dad,” she said, trying to ignore the sudden tension, “Dillon’s offered to board up the wall tonight. Dillon Ward, you know my father, Hank Erickson, don’t—”
“That won’t be necessary.” Her dad’s mouth was turned down at the corners. “I already have a contractor on his way.”
Dillon looked at her as if…what? “Thank you so much for offering, Dillon, but—”
“No problem,” he said. “Good luck with the renovations.” His expression hard, he nodded at Hank and walked away.
Hank squeezed her shoulders and dropped a quick kiss on her head. “We’ll take care of this, honey. I called Jim Arturo to handle the repairs. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
She stiffened and slipped out of his hold. “Don’t worry? This is my livelihood we’re talking about.”
He patted her arm. She wanted to bite his hand. “I know it’s upsetting, but let me handle this. Now,” he said, taking his cell phone out of his pocket, “you have your insurance with Todd Alexis, right? I’ll call him and get things moving along.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she could call her insurance agent herself but he was already dialing a number as he walked into the kitchen. She slumped into a chair. She had a bank loan to repay and Christmas gifts to buy, not to mention her ancient minivan needed new tires. And she’d kicked out her tenant, the only source of income she could count on.
She blinked back tears. But she wasn’t supposed to worry. Or be strong enough to solve her own problems.
The sad part was, even though it grated on her last nerve, she knew she wouldn’t stand up for herself. She was so damn tired. And scared. And since everyone expected her to stay in the background and let them take care of her, that’s what she’d end up doing.
Even if she did want to take charge of her life.
Chapter Three
“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO come in today,” Allie said from behind the polished, horseshoe-shaped bar.
“Yeah, I did.” Dillon sat on a stool and shrugged out of his jacket. Early morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting The Summit’s barroom in shadows. Despite a jukebox filled with classic rock songs, Allie hummed along to some bubblegum song playing on the radio underneath the bar. He grimaced as the singer hit a high note. “How can you listen to this crap?”
She flipped her heavy, dark hair over her shoulder. “It’s pop music, not crap. And I like it.” She did a little shimmy and shake to the chorus. “Besides, if I have to listen to ‘Hotel California’ one more time, I’ll stick my head in the oven.”
“It’s electric.”
She waved that away. “So it’ll be a symbolic gesture.” She turned the music down. “I drove by the bakery on my way here. The damage is pretty extensive. What’s Nina going to do about it?”
“Her father was there last night, said he’d take care of getting a carpenter to do the repairs.”
Yeah, Mr. Erickson had jumped in real quick. Nina’s father hadn’t wanted the town’s most dangerous citizen anywhere near his precious daughter.
Dillon’s shoulders tensed as he remembered how Nina had brushed off his offer to help. An offer he never should’ve made. She had enough people around to help her. He wasn’t going to lose any sleep over her.
Allie polished a beer glass, her eyes narrowed in concentration. He didn’t bother pointing out that water spots weren’t going to keep her clientele from drinking their booze. “Joe Roberts called me before you got here. Wanted to get my opinion on what was going to happen to Kyle.”
“Are you putting your lawyer shingle back out?”
Regret flickered across her face but was quickly gone. “Hardly. I’m a business owner now.”
Allie had been a successful defense attorney with a high-class law firm in New York City before returning to Serenity Springs last year. The few times he’d asked what had happened to send her back to her hometown, she either changed the subject, evaded his question or went into some long, boring dissertation about the legal system. His least favorite subject.
If her ability to talk for thirty minutes straight and not say a damn thing was anything to go by, she must’ve been a hell of a lawyer.
“So why’d they call you?” he asked.
“My mom is friends with Karen’s mom and she told them to call me.”
“Sounds like legal work to me.”
Having wiped each and every spot off the glass, she set it down and picked up another one. “Only work I’m doing is figuring out how to keep a bartender longer than two months.”
“Smart choice.”
He was glad she wasn’t going to allow herself to be dragged back into trying to save people. Talk about a thankless—and futile—endeavor. He’d spent the first half of his life trying to save his mother from her addictions and Kelsey from abuse—and her own rebelliousness. And it hadn’t helped any of them.
He’d almost stepped back into that bottomless pit again when he’d offered Nina help last night. Luckily her lack of backbone had come to his rescue.
“I don’t know,” Allie said, holding the glass up to the light before putting it away. “After talking to Jack—”
“If you’re not working the case, why talk to your brother about it?”
“I wanted to get a feel for what’s going on. Kyle’s in big trouble. It’s a shame. He was doing so well with Joe and Karen.”
“He stole from them.”
“I know, but he was upset and he’s only fifteen. Poor kid’s been in the system most of his life. He’s had it tough.”
Dillon shifted and hooked his foot on the rung of the stool. Fought to keep the bitterness from his voice. “Lots of people have it tough.”
His own childhood—if you could call it that—had hardly been ideal. His father died from an overdose when Dillon was four and his mother spent most of her time drowning her sorrows in vodka.
But he’d survived. He’d sucked it up and taken care of his mom and Kelsey. And even though there had never been enough money, he’d never resorted to stealing. He’d made sure Kelsey hadn’t, either.
Until she’d stopped listening to him.
He frowned as he realized there were more than a few similarities between his sister and Kyle. When Dillon helped Kyle out of the SUV last night, he’d seen defiance in the kid’s expression, the to-hell-with-the-world-I-don’t-need-anyone attitude. But he’d also seen the kid’s fear.
All of which he’d seen plenty of times in Kelsey growing up.
Compassion warred with his hard-earned good sense. Even after all that happened to him, his protective instincts still drew him to those in need.
Like the kid. And Nina Carlson.
“Kyle will be punished, that’s for sure,” Allie said. “He’ll probably be sentenced to juvenile hall.”
“Is that what you told his foster parents?”
“I told them the truth. And advised that it wouldn’t hurt to have Kyle try to make amends somehow. If he’s lucky and gets Judge Williams, showing remorse will go a long way toward a lenient sentence.”
Did that really work? When Kelsey got busted for shoplifting or underage drinking, she never made amends. Just got into more trouble. Trouble he’d then do his damnedest to get her out of.
He rolled his head side to side but his neck muscles remained tight. He hoped for Kyle’s sake, Allie’s idea worked. Being locked up changed a person. He’d hate to see that happen to a kid.
He drummed his fingers on the bar before slapping it lightly with his palm. Not his problem. Even if it was, he was in no position to help.
“Allie, we need to talk.”
She didn’t take her eyes off of the stubborn spot she was trying to rub out. “I thought men hated to talk.”
“We do.” She set the glass down and looked at him expectantly. He scratched his jaw. Between his late night and wanting to get this conversation over with, he hadn’t taken the time to shave. “Listen, this…thing between us—”
She tossed the towel on the bar. “I knew this would happen.”
“What?”
She pushed up the sleeves of her dark green sweater. “This.” She gestured between them. “Us working together every day. It got to be too much for you. The tension. The attraction. And now, you’ve fallen for me. Why must I be so irresistible?” she asked the heavens. She squeezed his arm. “It’ll never work out between us. You have to see that. I’m not what you need.”
What a smart-ass. God, he was going to miss her. “What I need is for you to swallow your ego and be serious for a minute.”
“Why?” She leaned on her elbows, her face in her hands. “You’re being serious enough for both of us.”
“Allie…” He slid to his feet. “I’m leaving.”
She swatted him on the arm as she straightened. “Don’t be such a drama queen. I’ll stop. I promise I’ll be good.”
“No. I mean I’m leaving Serenity Springs.”
“What?” Her smile disappeared. “But why?”
“It’s time I moved on. And now that I’ve been evicted—”
“Nina evicted you? No way.”
He nodded. “She said she wanted to expand. I figure she’d just been biding her time after buying the building to kick me out. Can’t say I blame her for not wanting a murderer living above her place of business.”
Allie’s eyes flashed. “She can’t refuse to rent to you because you were in prison. We’ll take her to court. I can’t believe she would pull something like this. And to think, she used to be so…so nice.”
“Put away your law degree. We’re not taking anyone to court for anything. And Nina hasn’t changed. She told me—very nicely—that I was evicted. It’s no big deal.”
He didn’t want Allie and her high ideals to go after Nina. The ex-lawyer would smash the cupcake into crumbs.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d said Nina was nice. Too nice. And she’d seemed so…lost last night. Fragile. She’d acted as if she wanted to take charge, but just didn’t know how or what to do first.
Allie hurried out from behind the bar. “But what about the rest of the work here?”
“There is no more work here. And after the false accusation of Shannon’s murder, Serenity Springs just isn’t the place for me.”
“It could be,” she said softly. “You could have a second chance. And if you need a place to stay, why not move in upstairs—”
“No.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m leaving after the wedding. I’ll get my tools out of here today.”
She crossed her arms. “But I don’t want you to go.” She pouted. “I’ll miss you.”
He smiled. “Last week you told me I was a bigger pain in your ass than your brother.”
“So? Doesn’t mean I don’t like having you around.”
He chuckled. “You’ll be fine.” Before he could change his mind, he squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for being a good friend.”
She patted his waist, sniffed and walked away. Dillon tipped his head back and exhaled. Leaving was for the best. He just hoped the next two weeks flew by.
IF ONE MORE PERSON told her how sorry they were for her, she’d shove a stale Danish down their throat.
And it would be even more effective and surprising because it came from sweet, easygoing, good-girl Nina Carlson.
She kicked the table leg. Pain shot up her foot. Ouch. She hobbled over to lean against the counter. See why she never bothered to get angry? All it did was leave her feeling empty and guilty.
And in pain.
She picked up the contractor’s estimate and crumpled it in her fist. No, anger wouldn’t help. It was past time she took control.
Headlights illuminated the kitchen as a truck pulled into the parking lot. Finally.
Nina shoved the wadded paper into her pocket and hurried across the room, ignoring the ache in her toes. She yanked the door open and dashed out into the cold air. “Dillon!”
Getting out of his truck, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at her before closing the driver’s side door.
She crossed her arms and lowered her head against the stinging wind as she jogged across the parking lot. It had stopped snowing but the wicked cold blew through her threadbare Harvard sweatshirt, and snow soaked her sneakers.
Two feet from him, she slipped, her arms windmilling as she started to fall.
“Easy,” he murmured, stepping forward and taking a hold of her upper arms.
She clutched him until she found her balance. At least the embarrassment heating her face eased the tingle of cold in her cheeks.
He scowled at her. “Where’s your coat?”
“Inside.” Her breath came out in bursts of frost. She inhaled and forced herself to meet his eyes. “Dillon, I…I need you.”
He let go of her and stepped back. “I’m flattered.”
She blew on her frozen hands—spring couldn’t come soon enough. “Look, I’ve had a really rotten day and I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t have the time or inclination for innuendos right now, okay?”
“My mistake.”
Ack. Did he have to be so…unflappable? Especially when she was always so flustered.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, but there was no curiosity on his face. Merely patience.
“I…are you almost done at The Summit?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I finished up today.”
“That’s great.” Her teeth chattered. “Can…can we go inside? I have fresh coffee.”
He was going to refuse. She could see it on his face. What could she do to change his mind? To persuade him to hear her out? Kelsey would make some wise remark and bait him. Nina’s older sister Blaire used her stunning looks to manipulate men.
Since she didn’t have Kelsey’s nerve or Blaire’s looks, Nina silently prayed.
“I have a few minutes to spare,” he said.
She smiled, relieved, noticing the way his eyes narrowed slightly before she trudged back toward the bakery. But at least he was following her.
Inside, she poured two cups of coffee, took a moment to doctor hers with a heavy dollop of cream and preceded him into the dining area. A chill racked her and she wrapped her fingers around her warm mug.
He sat and nodded toward the plywood covering the hole in the exterior wall. “Looks like you have things under control here.”
She choked on her coffee. Coughed so hard, her eyes watered. Once her vision cleared, she studied him. The man had the emotionless thing down pat.
“I wouldn’t say things are under control.” She rapped a staccato beat on her cup with her fingernails before setting it on an empty table. “As a matter of fact, I don’t have anything under control.”
“That so?”
“My father asked Jim Arturo, you know, from Arturo and Sons Builders?” He inclined his head. She took that as a yes. “Anyway, Dad asked Jim to meet us here earlier today.” She took out the paper, smoothed it out and handed it to Dillon. “Jim gave me this.”
He glanced at it as he sipped his coffee. “Pretty sizable estimate.”
“That’s not the problem. The problem is, he can’t start working here for at least two months. Two months. Do you know how long that is?”
“Eight weeks? Give or take a day or two.”
She gave him the look she used on her kids to warn them they were two seconds away from being banished to their rooms. Dillon didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. Figures.
She began to pace. “There’s no way I can afford to lose two months’ worth of business, especially during the holidays. Besides losing local sales, I’ll be missing out on a huge chunk of revenue generated by tourists—”
“Kitchen’s still functional.”
She stopped so quickly, her ponytail hit her cheek. “But I don’t have a place to display what I’ve baked. Plus, without any place to sit and eat, I’ll lose the breakfast and lunch crowds, not to mention foot traffic from people out shopping. Even if I put up a sign that says we’re still open, how many people are going to notice in all this mess?”
He set the estimate on the table. “Yeah. That’s tough.”
“Tough?” Her voice rose. “I’ve worked my butt off trying to make this business a success. I have daily specials planned for the entire month. I’ve even booked a few holiday parties plus a girl’s eighth birthday party where the kids can eat lunch, play games and bake and decorate their own cookies.” Her breathing grew ragged, and spots formed before her eyes. “Where am I supposed to do all of that? In the kitchen?”
Nina tried to catch her breath, to get herself under control again. She’d blown it. She’d overreacted, just like Trey always said she did. Lost her temper when she knew better. She rubbed her cheek. If she raised her voice to Trey and his oh-so-reasonable tone didn’t get her to calm down, his stinging slaps did.
“What does any of that have to do with me?” Dillon asked, seemingly unaffected by her outburst.
She frowned. That was it? The man really was an enigma.
“You said you were finished at The Summit and I was hoping…” She swallowed, then rushed on so fast her words slurred together. “I want to hire you to do the renovations.”
She held her breath until the silence stretched out so long, she grew dizzy and had to exhale.
Finally Dillon stood and asked, “What makes you think I don’t have other jobs lined up?”
She rubbed the base of her bare ring finger. “I heard no one will hire you after the murder investigation.”
After a second of stunned silence, he asked, “You always believe everything you hear? Because if I did, I’d believe you were emotionally crushed when your ex-husband left you. And that if he ever returned, you’d take him back in a flash.” He waited a beat. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
She remembered being the top subject of the rumor mill. But instead of letting her humiliation overcome her, she made a show of looking him up and down. “What are you, a secret member of the Red Hat Society? I thought only old women gossiped.”
His lips twitched. “Maybe you can hold your own after all.”
“I can,” she lied. “But just because you shouldn’t believe everything you hear, doesn’t mean there isn’t some truth in rumors, either.”
She’d rather use margarine and artificial sweetener in her recipes than go back to Trey, but she had been crushed when he’d left her for another woman. Oh, not her heart—that had just been bruised—but her ego. Her pride.
She’d give just about anything to get even a tiny bit of that pride back.
“So. Do you have any other jobs lined up?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Great. So will—”
“No.”
She shook her head. “What?”
“I won’t work for you.”
“But why not?”
“I’m not going to be here.” The intensity of his gaze pinned her to her spot. “You wanted me gone, remember?”
She opened her mouth. Shut it again. Shoot.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he said. “Good luck finding someone to take the job.”
She leaped forward. “You can stay,” she blurted, clutching his arms, “in the apartment. It’s not like I can afford a tea room now anyway.”
His brown eyes were guarded. “You didn’t evict me because of a tea room.”
“That was nothing personal—”
“Doesn’t matter.” His hands were large, warm and surprisingly gentle as he disentangled himself from her grip. “I’ve come to expect people to treat me a certain way, and so far, they haven’t disappointed me.”
Shocked, she stared at him. Is that what she’d done? All she’d wanted was to get her family and Trey off her back. And yes, maybe to give herself some peace of mind by asking Dillon to leave.
But she hadn’t meant to hurt him.
“Dillon, I’m so sor—”
“Don’t be. You did what you had to do and now I’m doing what I have to do. Find someone else for the job because I’m not interested in saving you.”
HER CHEEKS turned pink. He wondered if Nina’s skin was a soft as it looked. Man, she smelled good.
“But, if you don’t have any other jobs, you could work here,” she insisted. One thing for her: she might be a cupcake, but she was a stubborn cupcake. “I’m sure you’d be done by the end of the month.”
“You’re right,” he acknowledged. “Except I’m leaving after the wedding.”
“You could wait. Aren’t you celebrating Christmas with Kelsey and her family?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Please,” she said hoarsely. “Please.”
Damn it. He didn’t want to feel bad for her.
“Nina?” A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and round, wire-rimmed glasses opened the door, holding it wide for Kyle to walk in. The kid’s too-large feet shuffled against the linoleum, his thin frame lost in a pair of baggy jeans and sweatshirt, his left wrist wrapped in a light blue cast.
The man glanced at Dillon before focusing on Nina. “I hope this isn’t a bad time. We’re on our way back from our lawyer’s and Kyle has something he’d like to say to you.”
The kid’s shoulders slumped, his eyes hidden by his shaggy, brown hair. The man—Dillon assumed he was the kid’s foster father—cleared his throat.