A Place to Belong. Linda Goodnight
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the laundry room.
Chapter Five
Jace wanted to kick himself.
He finished repairing the attic vents, a simple task once Kitty was safely out of sight. Then he removed the bird nests, relieved to discover that no eggs had been laid in any of them, including the one that had caused Kitty’s fall.
He lowered himself into the soap-scented laundry room where the essence of Kitty surrounded him.
She hadn’t been hurt, but touching her was reflex. He shouldn’t have because now the memory of her velvety skin and rose scent tortured him.
She’d probably thought he was weird the way he’d jerked away like a man on fire.
He rubbed both hands over his face and groaned. For years, he’d worked for Kitty Wainright and been a distant friend. And he’d handled the situation well. Suddenly this spring, keeping his feelings under wraps seemed impossible.
But he had to. Even if Kitty was interested, which she wasn’t, he couldn’t be.
With a vicious yank of his tool belt, he went in search of Donny.
His boots crunched on the gravel path leading between the motel’s cabins where Jace spotted his pickup truck near the target unit. Donny was nowhere in sight.
“Figures,” he muttered. He turned to stare at the pretty cottage he knew to be Kitty’s home. A fierce protectiveness surged through him. Maybe Donny wasn’t over there, but he probably was. Donny always had an eye for ladies and a line a mile long.
Oblivious to the vibrant red and white tulips basking in the sunlight, Jace stalked down the path. Outside Kitty’s front entrance, he lifted a whimsical knocker—patriotic, of course, and another reminder of why he had to take care of Kitty but keep his distance, too. He’d set a hard task for himself, but he was determined to see it through. Penance came in many forms, and if his was blond and beautiful with the soul of a saint, he would simply have to cope.
She appeared, still wearing the smudged blouse, though the cobwebs were gone from her silken hair. With her easy smile, she pushed open the door. “Is my attic safe from feathered invaders?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jace removed his cap, held it in both hands like a shield between them. To discourage conversation, he didn’t smile. The warm feelings in the attic could not be repeated.
“Is Donny over here?”
Kitty gave him a long, curious look before saying, “He is. Come on in.”
Jace followed her slim form into the sunny living area.
The room was small and tidy like its owner, filled with soft, feminine color and dotted with spring flower arrangements. Whimsical figurines of kittens had been set here and there. One brown kitten lay on its back, smiling with abandon. It reminded him of Milo.
“Come on in the kitchen and have some iced tea with us. You must be thirsty after being up in that dirty attic.”
He was, but thirst was the least of his problems. He followed her anyway. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Kitty paused in the kitchen’s entry, her expression sweet as honey. “I always have time for friends.”
Stab him in the heart and let him bleed. “How’s your hand?”
“Oh, that.” She raised the palm to display a wide Band-Aid. “I had a splinter. Now that it’s gone, I’m good as new.”
“Sorry that happened.”
“My fault. You warned me.” She widened her eyes and curled her lips in a silly gesture that made him smile in spite of his intent to the contrary.
“No traction, though.”
She laughed. “There’s always a next time.”
He hoped not. Neither his heart, nor his resolve, could take it.
Donny Babcock appeared behind Kitty, interrupting the pleasant exchange. Jace didn’t know whether to thank him or hit him.
“We have work to do,” he said to his supposed helper.
“Why don’t you start without me?” Donny flashed his expensive teeth at Kitty. “Kitty and I were getting better acquainted. She invited me to her Bible study.”
Something dark and fierce twisted in Jace’s belly. “I need your help.”
“All right. All right.” He gave Kitty a put-upon look and followed Jace out the door.
When he and Donny reached the work area, Jace was still stewing. Part of him worried about Donny’s intentions, but mixed up in there somewhere was a heavy dose of old-fashioned jealousy. He shouldn’t be jealous, had no right to be, but he was. If Kitty ever decided to let go of her dead husband, she deserved a good man, a man better than either him or Donny Babcock.
He handed Donny a nail puller. “Kitty’s a nice woman.”
Donny studied the puller as though the tool was an alien spacecraft. “You interested in her?”
“We’re friends.” He emphasized the word to make a point.
“Good to know. Wouldn’t want to nuzzle in on a friend’s sweet spot.” He winked. “So you shouldn’t mind if I get to know her a little better.”
Jace’s grip on the hammer tightened. “I do mind.”
“But you just said the two of you are only friends.”
Teeth tight, Jace pivoted on his toes. “Look, Donny, she’s too good for either of us and you know it. Leave her alone.”
Donny laughed and propped one hip on a windowsill, the nail puller forgotten. “Just because you want to punish yourself forever doesn’t mean I do, Jacey boy. A second chance is a second chance at everything.”
Jace tried another direction. Appealing to Donny’s conscience wasn’t working. As if it ever had. “She’s a grieving widow. Didn’t you see the motel office?”
“Yeah, a bunch of old junk that needs tossing out if you ask me. A stinkin’ shrine to a dead guy. Come on. Get over it.”
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