Tin Angel (8 page)

“I have a sweet tooth,” she said as if revealing a secret.

Another similarity with Alice, although she’d recently developed diabetes and had to refrain from such treats. It seemed these two women had an awful lot in common.

Jack sipped his cocoa and watched her over the rim of his cup. She sank into the armchair across from him, tucking one long, lean leg up under her, then, like a contented child, began to eat the marshmallows with a spoon. He reached down next to the side of the sofa and grabbed Alice’s cane. “Where did you get this?”

She drew her brows together into a frown. “From the closet. Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“It belongs to Alice.” His voice rose a bit, despite his trying to control it.

“Of course it does.”

“She can’t get around without it.”

“I know that, Jack. What’s the problem? She used a different cane when she left.”

He gulped his chocolate, embarrassment burning hotter than his steaming drink. What in the world was wrong with him? Alice probably had a closet full of canes. He was becoming suspicious of everything. If he wasn’t careful, he’d scare Ally away. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I think my injury has affected my thinking.”

A smile curved her full lips. “I understand you’re concerned about my aunt, but believe me, she’s fine.”

“I’m very fond of her,” he said, trying to excuse his paranoid behavior.

“And I’m sure she is of you too.”

“We have so much in common.”

“The music?” Ally was looking at him as if trying to read his mind.

He’d said too much already. “She’s a fine woman,” he said quickly. “They don’t make them like that anymore.”

“Men either. Except for you.” She said it under her breath, but there was no denying he’d heard her correctly.

“You’re a puzzle, Ally Hart. You look one way, yet act another.”

She lowered her lashes so he couldn’t see her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Most beautiful women are superficial…”

“Things aren’t always as they seem.”

He couldn’t have said it better himself. His gaze flicked over her perfect exterior, and he wondered what secrets were hidden beneath.

Ally drank the last of her cocoa, then set the cup down on the table. She unfolded her legs from under her and stood. “You’re so young to have formed such an attitude about women.”

Jack raised a brow. That sounded odd coming from her lips, as if she were so much older and wiser. “Not all women, just a certain type.”

Ally strolled over to the old Wurlitzer piano at the far end of the room. Her fingers grazed the keys almost lovingly.

“Do you play?” he asked.

“No,” she said, turning her back to him. “You?”

Using the cane, he hobbled over to her and slid his fingers over the keys. “I do, but nowhere near as well as your aunt.” He sat down at the piano and played Rachmaninoff. “Alice’s talent is rare. Music is a part of her soul. It’s a shame her fingers are so stiff now. Her bad days outweigh her good, but when she does play, it’s flawless.”

Ally watched his hands glide effortlessly over the keys, and he thought he saw the same look in her eyes that Alice would have had for a piece done well. “This is one of your aunt’s favorites,” he said quietly.

“Yes, it is.”

His fingers slowed, and he studied Ally’s face.

“I-I meant, I could see why. It’s lovely.”

“Very.” His gaze lingered on her lips, and she looked away. He liked that about her—that shyness, that unexpected innocence. “It’s getting late. I should go,” he said, ending the piece on a crescendo.

“No.” Ally moved across the room and stood by the window. “You’ll never get up all the stairs to your apartment with that ankle. Stay here. You can sleep on the sofa.”

“I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure I can make it.” Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. Spending the night here with Ally just might get her to open up and tell him the truth about Alice.

“No, I insist. It’s no bother, really. Besides, I’d feel terrible if you hurt yourself trying to climb those stairs.”

“All right, if you insist.” Jack tried hard to keep from smiling at his good fortune.

* * *

“Are you hungry?” Jack called from the parlor.

Ally shook her head, returning from the kitchen with a freshly filled ice pack. She set it on his ankle.

“Feel like pizza?”

Pizza. Just the thought of it made her stomach growl. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had it. “With the works?”

“That’s the only way to go.” Jack reached for the phone on the table beside the sofa and dialed. “Hey, Louie,” he said into the receiver, “Jack Billings. Send over my usual.” After he hung up, he said to Alice, “Louie’s on Center Street; nobody makes a better pie. You’ll love it.”

She didn’t doubt it. Anything would be better than what she could prepare. “I don’t cook much,” Alice said wryly.

Jack chuckled. “Your aunt doesn’t either. Although she can use her age as an excuse.”

The way he looked at her made her think he thought she was just too lazy to learn. “I would cook if I had the time,” she said, trying to explain her lack of domestic talent.

Jack leaned forward, reaching for the picture on the coffee table. Anxiety shot through her. Inside the polished silver frame was a photograph of Tom in uniform. It has been taken the day he left for war. That was the last time she’d seen him.

“What was he like?” Jack asked, running his finger over the glass.

“Who?” Alice’s voice came out like a squeak.

He set the picture back on the table. “The boyfriend you’re hiding from.”

Relief swept over her that he hadn’t been referring to Tom, but oh Lord, another story. She hadn’t anticipated having to make up tales, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit. What else was she to do, though? Her mind scrambled, trying to think of something to tell him. She thought of Bethany and the little bit Jack had told her of their relationship. “He was controlling,” she said. “Self-absorbed. I don’t think he knew me at all.”

Jack’s fabulous blue eyes were tender as he watched her. “I know exactly how you must feel. I left a long-term relationship for those very reasons. I had to get away. That’s why I moved to Silvercreek.”

Of course she knew that already, but had to pretend this was the first time hearing it. “I’m sorry. It’s difficult when love doesn’t work.”

He shrugged. “Some things weren’t meant to be.” His gaze locked onto the picture of Tom. “But that’s a tragedy. Alice never got over her loss.”

Battling poignant memories left her close to tears. She swallowed hard, then cleared her throat. “Do you regret falling in love?”

Jack leaned back against the sofa and took a moment to answer, as if choosing his words carefully. “I cared for Bethany, but I wasn’t head over heels in love. I discovered that when I met Alice. She’d found her true love and even though they weren’t destined to be together, she never settled for less. Tom lived inside her…”

His voice was wistful. He understood her so well, and it was as if he felt her pain. Alice wanted to touch him…to run her fingers over his skin…to lay her head on his shoulder and feel the silky softness of his hair against her cheek. She’d waited a lifetime for these feelings, and now they were blossoming for this beautiful man who seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Yet, she was deceiving him… Everything she’d told him was a lie. She turned her head so he couldn’t see the guilt in her eyes.

“What are your plans for the holiday?”

She’d forgotten tomorrow was Christmas Eve. “I don’t have any plans. I guess I’ll wear my sweats and watch old movies.” She tried hard to sound upbeat.

“Spend it with me.”

Although there was nothing more she’d rather do than spend the evening with Jack, she wasn’t sure that would be such a good idea. Her feelings for him were growing stronger by the minute, and if he found out she was a fraud, he’d hate her—and rightly so. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Well, just think about it. Please.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I doubt if I’ll change my mind.” The loud peal of the doorbell saved her, at least temporarily.

Jack handed her a twenty-dollar bill. She left the parlor to answer the front door, paid the pizza deliveryman, and returned carrying their dinner. After setting the box on the coffee table, she went into the kitchen for something to drink. She came back with two glasses of ice water and a stack of napkins tucked under her arm.

She sat down on the edge of the sofa and reached for a slice of pizza. “I’m afraid I’m not being a very good hostess,” she said. “I forgot to bring plates.”

Jack had his pizza slice folded in half. “I’m fine. Just surprised.”

“Surprised?” She took a bite and used her thumb to wipe a bit of sauce from her chin.

“I guess after seeing you use tongs for the marshmallows, I expected you to use a fork with your pizza.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m not afraid to get my fingers dirty.”

“I’m glad. I thought women like you were all the same, afraid to enjoy life because they might break a nail or smudge their makeup.”

“What?” She nearly choked on her pizza. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

He looked at her sheepishly. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just being honest.”

“If insulting me is being honest, then I can do without that kind of honesty.” She ripped a piece of crust from her pizza and bit down hard.

“That wasn’t my intention. My last relationship was a disaster. Forgive me? Friends again?”

Friends? A friend’s not what I need. I need you to fall in love with me.
But she couldn’t
tell him that. Instead, she said, “Sure. Your comment is long forgotten.”

Jack pushed the pizza box away, then clasped his hand over hers. “Really?” He stared at her, and she knew he was trying to see if she was telling the truth.

“Really.” She squeezed his hand.

He pulled her closer until her leg brushed his thigh. A tingle of excitement coursed through her. He pressed his mouth against hers and with his tongue, he parted her lips. She didn’t resist. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against him. She could feel the beating of his heart. If this was how he treated his friends, then she wanted to be his best friend. His lips moved down her throat to the base of her neck, stopping at the spot where her pulse thrummed. She had to bite back a sigh. This was heaven.

The sound of the doorbell jarred her back to reality. Jack looked at her, and the disappointment on his face matched her own.

“Expecting someone?” he asked.

“No.” She tugged on her sweater to adjust the one shoulder that had slipped down, revealing her pink bra strap, then ran her hands over her mussed hair. “I’ve no idea who it could be.” She hoped Jack didn’t pick up on her reluctance to answer the door. Whoever waited outside couldn’t be anyone she wanted to see. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back and then maybe we could pick up where we left off?”

His brilliant smile was all the answer she needed. As she walked into the foyer, she prayed she’d be able to send this caller away quickly. When she opened the door, a rush of cold air mixed with wet snow stung her face, but that wasn’t what froze her. The sight of Pastor Riley did!