No Perfect Hero(20)

You should be, I think, but hold my tongue.

I don’t want to spook her more.

Instead, I join them in the kitchen, working around them in a way that feels far too natural as I put coffee on and then check the bacon to make sure it isn’t burning. “It’s mostly petty vandalism. But I’ll make a few more phone calls after breakfast and see about finding you somewhere safer to stay.”

Haley makes a soft sound under her breath, her gaze fixed somewhere out the windows, contemplative. “It’s a shame, really. This is such a nice little inn. I’d love to have spent some time painting on the back deck.”

“You can see the mountains from town.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” She glances at me. Her smile is so warm. I’m not even sure what I did to earn it considering just yesterday we were hissing and spitting at each other like wet cats in a bag. “This really is a lovely place. Even if it’s got its share of small town secrets.”

You have no idea.

“Listen, Hay...”

“Hm?”

I work my jaw, searching for words.

I must still be off my head after last night. Don’t know why I’m offering an olive branch like this otherwise. “Since you’re staying a few days, maybe I could give you the grand tour.”

She looks at me like I've lost my mind.

Fuck.

So much for bad ideas, like offering to show her around town. Stupid ideas that sure won't make this any easier.

Still, I thought it'd do her good to see all the little charms, the sweet spots around Heart’s Edge everybody loves. Sure, it’d give me fresh cover to get out and do some snooping without being Captain Fucking Obvious, too.

But maybe some part of me wants to show her what there is to really love about my hometown beyond the views and the imminent sense of danger hanging over our heads like a guillotine waiting to drop.

Or maybe I've gone as crazy as her look says.

Before I claw back my words, her phone starts trilling in her back pocket. With a sheepish smile, she drops the ball of dough she’d been kneading, lifts a floury hand, and says, “Hold that thought. Really.”

Then she's off with a damp dish towel, hastily scrubbing her fingers, fishing her phone from her pocket.

I shouldn’t be so interested in who can make her face light up like she's expecting Santa Claus on the other end of the line. For all I know she’s married, or has a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, and – fuck.

Is that why she gave me the deer-in-headlights look? Is it because she's taken?

Not my business. Shame it's so damn hard to believe it when I realize how hard I'm clenching my fist.

“Hey, Jules,” she says into the phone with a warm smile. “What’s up?”

I try not to be obvious about eavesdropping as I check the coffee pot, pulling down mugs from the cabinet, but it’s kind of hard not to overhear when we’re all bumping elbows in the kitchen.

I glance back at Haley – then catch little Tara watching me. She gives me a pointed look and clucks her tongue, shaking her head.

“It’s bad manners to eavesdrop, Mister,” she whispers harshly.

I can’t help but grin. Striding over, I lean down so we're face to face.

“Don’t tattle on me, okay? Might be a Snickers in it for you later,” I whisper back, watching as she breaks into a brilliant smile.

Hay’s not smiling, though.

She’s frowning.

Starting to pace around while she runs a still-messy hand through her hair, leaving floury streaks against the dark, glossy brown. “No...no, that’s okay. I understand. No, really, it’s just fine. Jules, you have to take care of you. I’ll be okay here.” She pauses, her smile tired and sad. “I know. I know that feeling, trust me. I’m just sorry it had to end with a twist of the knife.”

It's my turn to frown. Whatever's upsetting her, I don't like it one bit.

Another pause, then her listening look. “We’re in this little place called Heart’s Edge way up in the mountains. It’s purty. You should come visit some time! Lovely place to relax and take your mind off cheaters.”

I can’t help but be curious.

Cheaters. The bitter note in her voice says she speaks from far too much experience.

Is that what sent her out this way with the kid? She’d mentioned Chicago once, but I didn’t know what her point of origin was or why she tossed a munchkin in the car and decided to hit the road with, from what I saw, damn near everything she owns stuffed in the trunk of the Mustang.

Did some man hurt her? Drive her off on this trip?

Did some selfish piece of shit take a hammer to her heart?

My blood steams more than it should just thinking about it. Hay, in tears, face down in a pillow, hiding how bad the world's latest prick just kicked her up and down.

I glance at Tara again and force a smile. They say if you do it enough, you'll feel happier.

Doesn't work here, but it does help my anger from dialing up to ten.

But I turn back to the coffee quickly when she hangs up and glances at me, making eye contact before I clear my throat and look away like I hadn’t just been listening.

“You know, I thought you were some kind of super spy, maybe, but after that awful eavesdropping act...I don’t think so. You’ve got no skills, Warren.” Her voice is tired and amused at my back.