Once Forbidden.... Carla Cassidy
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so that if one of you defaults, you all lose?” Jerrod asked, and got to his feet, also.
Her fragrance surrounded him, the scent of summer flowers and vanilla, and he stepped closer to her, drawn to her as he had been so long ago.
Was the magic they’d once had gone forever? Never to be recaptured? Crushed beneath the weight of his youthful mistake and the circumstances that had brought them here in this place in time?
She nodded absently in answer to his question. “I’ve got to get home. I have a full day planned for tomorrow. I need to talk to people who knew Erin and Richard.” She stepped off the porch and he followed her.
When she reached her car, she started to climb in, but he stopped her by touching her arm. She looked up at him, her strong, beautiful features painted by the moonlight.
“Johnna, I want you to take this threat seriously.” He nodded to indicate the paint on her hood.
“I’m sure it’s nothing more than the work of a moron,” she said.
“Even morons can be dangerous.” He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to capture those lips with his, feel the heat of her body pressed against his, recapture the magic that had become lost.
Unable to help himself, he reached up and touched a finger to her cheek. She flinched away from him, her gaze hardening, and got into her car. “I’ll be careful,” she said, and started the engine.
As she pulled away, Jerrod shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and watched until her taillights had disappeared from view.
Chapter 4
A smile curved Johnna’s lips as she drove down Main Street toward her house. She’d had a productive morning. She’d met with Judd Stevens, the private investigator, and had arranged for him to begin work for her.
After meeting Judd, she’d picked up Harriet Smith, her good friend and fellow attorney, from the tiny Inferno airport and had just left the older woman at the bed-and-breakfast where she would be staying for the duration of Erin’s trial.
It was terrific to have Harriet here, not only helping her with the legal machinations of her first murder trial, but also as emotional support. Only Harriet knew the full depth of Johnna’s despair when she’d lost Jerrod, then when she’d lost her baby girl. Only Harriet understood the grief that would always reside in a portion of Johnna’s heart.
Turning from Main onto Oak, her gaze shot to the house third from the corner. It was a charming little two-story, with gingerbread trim and a long front porch. More than that, it was Johnna’s safe haven, her private space—her home.
Here was the one place she felt as if she truly belonged. She’d picked the house and its furnishings with great care, creating a nest where she fully anticipated living the rest of her life. Alone.
She’d decided to come here, grab a bite of late lunch, then head to the ranch and put in a couple of hours of work there. Harriet had insisted she needed the day to acclimate herself to the small town and had further insisted Johnna leave her to her own devices for the day. They would meet first thing in the morning for Erin’s arraignment.
As Johnna got out of her car, two people standing in the front yard of the house across the street caught her attention. A wave of dismay swept through her as she recognized Jerrod and Shirley Swabb, the local real-estate agent.
That particular house had stood empty and been for sale for some time. Surely Jerrod wasn’t considering buying the place. But what else could he be doing there with Shirley?
It was bad enough Johnna had to share this small town with Jerrod, bad enough he apparently intended to be a big part of Erin’s support. Johnna certainly did not want to share this street with him. She didn’t want to have to look out her window and see him day in and day out.
“Hi, Johnna.” Shirley waved, her broad face beaming as Johnna approached.
“Hi, Shirley, Jerrod.” Johnna tried not to notice how handsome Jerrod looked. He was clad in a pair of charcoal slacks and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose well-developed forearms sprinkled with dark, curly hair.
His eyes were the color of the sky overhead, a blue so intense it almost hurt to look at them. There had been a time when Johnna had been able to lose herself in those blue depths.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“Looks like we’re going to be neighbors,” Jerrod replied.
“Jerrod is buying the place,” Shirley added with another of her big, salesperson smiles.
“Why? It’s a wreck.” Shirley’s smile slid away beneath Johnna’s pronouncement. “The porch is sagging, one of the windows is broken. It needs painting.”
“All cosmetic,” Shirley replied stiffly, and shot Johnna a glare.
Johnna ignored her. “Jerrod, surely you can find a place that doesn’t need so much work.” Someplace not on my street, someplace on the other side of town, she wanted to scream.
“I like this house,” Jerrod replied, his gaze unreadable as it lingered on her. “Besides, Shirley is right. It’s structurally sound. It just needs a little tender, loving care. In fact, Shirley tells me your brother does a lot of carpentry work.”
“I’m sure Luke is far too busy to take on another project,” Johnna replied. She knew she sounded churlish and petulant, and she hated herself for it. But he was stirring old emotions, emotions she found more and more difficult to shove away.
“My father needs a project and this place will be just the thing for him,” Jerrod said.
“We’re on the way to my office to sign the paperwork,” Shirley added coolly, obviously irritated by Johnna’s attempt to interfere in a sale.
“I promise you I’ll be a good neighbor,” Jerrod said, a knowing smile curving his lips.
“I’m sure you will be.” Johnna felt the heat of a blush warm her face and wondered how transparent she had been.
“How was church this morning?” she asked grudgingly.
“Wonderful. The good reverend delivered a beautifully moving goodbye sermon. Unfortunately there was only a handful of people there.”
“I’m sure you’ll turn that around in no time,” she said, then added, “And I hope you and your father will be very happy here.” She realized she was fighting a losing battle with the house and refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing any more of her protests.
Before anyone could say anything else, she spun on her heel and strode back to her house.
Once inside, she dropped her briefcase by the front door, then stood at the front window and stared outside. She watched as Jerrod took the For Sale sign down and walked it over to lean it against the side of the garage.
When he’d touched her face the night before, she’d wanted to fall into his arms, feel the heat of his mouth, allow him to take whatever he wanted or needed from her. And that had frightened her.
At eighteen she had been positively besotted with Jerrod McCain. She’d given him power over her mind, her body and her heart. And he had thrown it all away, leaving her in a state of devastation she’d never fully recovered from and never again wanted to experience.
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