Treasure on Lilac Lane: A Jewell Cove Novel (13 page)

He lifted his glass, which Jess noticed was just plain sparkling water, and she felt a little pang in her chest. This was the Rick she remembered from childhood. As he sipped, his gaze settled on her and his dark eyes seemed to challenge her to change her mind about him.

“To Abigail,” the guests intoned, followed by the clinking of glasses.

*   *   *

Jess raised her glass and drank as Rick stepped away from the podium and back to his seat. When he was beside her again, she leaned over. “That was very nice.”

“It wasn’t that hard, because it was all true.”

With the string quartet playing behind them and the scent of flowers and the flickering candles, something clicked between them. Something Jess wasn’t ready for. Something she wasn’t sure she wanted.

Tom and Abby got up to go cut the wedding cake and together they watched as Tom put his hand over Abby’s on the cake knife and they sliced through the bottom layer. Everyone clapped and camera flashes went off like fireflies in the dusky light. Rick leaned over a little and said in an undertone, “Aren’t we supposed to dance together later?”

Her throat tightened. “Yes, I think we are.”

And heaven help her, she was looking forward to it.

C
HAPTER
9

As evening deepened and the temperatures dipped, the guests moved inside for dancing. The chandeliers were dimmed to a soft light, and a small bar was set up in the corner of the dining-room-turned-ballroom room close to the fireplace. A fire burned behind the grate, the light casting flickering shadows on the walls. Jess mingled for a while, visiting with friends and neighbors, until the music started up.

Rick went to the bar and came back with a couple of glasses. He handed one to Jess. “Just soda,” he said, hanging back and putting a hand in his pocket.

“Okay,” she answered. She took a drink. The house was warmer than she’d anticipated. The fire was nice but it was also throwing extra heat in a house full of people.

“I told you I wouldn’t drink tonight,” Rick said quietly beside her, his gaze on the fire. “I know you think I’m a drunk, but you can stop inspecting everything I swallow. Besides, if I’m driving Glen’s car I have to be on my best behavior.”

“You like the ’stang?”

“I do. Not sure I’d want to restore my own, but it was a kick driving it around today.”

Bryce picked up the cordless mic and began speaking again. “Ladies and gentlemen, would you please clear the floor for the bride and groom’s first dance.”

Jess watched with a lump in her throat as Tom took Abby in his arms. He gave Abby such a tender smile that Jess was sure every female heart in the room practically melted, and as the music started and their feet began moving, every eye was transfixed on the happy couple.

“They’re great, aren’t they?”

She looked over at Rick. “Yes, they are.”

“I wasn’t sure Tom would ever find someone. But last spring, after Abby showed up … he was different.”

“Different how?” Jess asked, watching the couple turn on the floor, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“He’d been just going from day to day, you know? Running his business, living out at his place, but he was just going through the motions. When Abby showed up, it was like he had a purpose again.”

Jess wasn’t sure if Rick was describing Tom or himself. “What about you? Do you have a purpose, Rick?”

“I keep looking,” he admitted. “At first it was just get through each day. Sometimes it’s still like that.”

The dance ended, but Bryce called for the maid of honor and best man to join the couple as well as Tom’s parents.

“This is us,” he said quietly, holding out his hand.

She realized belatedly that he’d held out his left hand—his prosthetic. She’d never touched it before. She took it and schooled her face while the material felt slightly odd beneath her fingertips. Once on the floor his right arm came around her and her hand was cushioned in the stiff-feeling artificial limb.

“Should I have warned you?” he asked as they started dancing to the slow song.

“About what?” she bluffed.

He chuckled. “Sorry. It doesn’t exactly feel like flesh and blood.”

She looked into his eyes. “Of course it doesn’t.” She frowned. She’d never known anyone with an artificial limb before. “How well can you use it?” she asked, curious.

Without breaking her gaze, the pressure on her hand tightened, squeezing, and then released.

“You just squeezed my hand.”

“Yup.”

“How?”

They kept turning on the floor. “I have a myoelectric hand. It means that electrical signals from my muscles trigger the movement.”

“That is so cool.” She felt her face heat. “I mean, it’s not cool that you lost your hand, Rick. Sorry. But that technology can do that…”

“I know what you mean. Fine motor skills aren’t so great, but I manage just fine. There are newer, more expensive types that have a lot better dexterity. It’s pretty amazing.”

“It must have been a big adjustment.”

He laughed then, but it was humorless. “The rehab was a pain in the ass. I wasn’t a very good patient.”

“I can imagine.”

“I was pretty bitter. I still am.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here, you know.” She bit down on her lip, suddenly wanting him to confide in her. She understood privacy, more so than some, and she didn’t make a practice of prying into someone else’s business. But she wanted to know Rick’s. Since when had that begun to matter?

Ever since she’d walked into his porch and discovered that there was much, much more to him than met the eye.

His arm pulled her closer so that she was nestled against his body. It felt good being close to him. She felt safe. Secure.

Josh might have been right after all. She’d promised that if anything happened in the coming weeks that she’d go to Bryce or Tom or Rick if she needed help. She could smell the slightly spicy scent of Rick’s cologne, feel the way he held her close but not too close, and she felt protected. She looked up to see Tom dancing with his new wife, while Bryce held his daughter Alice in his arms. Josh had taken to the floor with their mother.

She wasn’t alone.

She wouldn’t be alone again.

And for the first time since she’d heard the Greers were back in town, she didn’t feel so afraid.

*   *   *

Rick was relieved to finally let her go.

Her innocent questions hadn’t bothered him in the least. It was refreshing to have someone just ask rather than look at him sideways or get all embarrassed and blush. What he’d struggled with, though, was having her so close to him. Touching her skin and the silky fabric of her dress, the scent of her light perfume surrounding him, the soft sound of her voice and the sweetness of her smile.

Ten years ago, he’d thought she was pretty. Now she was beautiful. Jess had grown from a striking girl to a stunning woman. When she’d been younger, her eyes had gleamed with a spark of devilment and adventure. The same spark was still there, but it was tempered by wisdom and experience.

Rick didn’t know just what had happened to Jess while he’d been gone, but since he’d returned he found himself paying close attention to his best friend’s little sister.

He looked across the room. She was talking to her sister and mother and laughing at something they said. It struck him that no matter how often he saw her surrounded by family and friends, she held something back. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She had a great capacity for compassion, but not in all things. Like when he’d shown up to build her shelves and she’d thought he was hungover. There’d been no compassion or understanding then. Why?

Then his gaze traveled to the bar and he clenched his teeth. He swore he could smell the sharp, pungent scent of alcohol across the room. But he’d made a promise. He would not drink tonight. He could manage to scrape together enough willpower to get through this one last hour. Besides, he’d done so well so far. It had been hell at times. He’d bought himself a bottle of rye only to dump it down the sink before he could drink it. Been tempted to head over to The Rusty Fern for a beer just to break the silence in the empty house. But he hadn’t.

He hadn’t.

The bouquet and garter were tossed. Jess hung back, pushed forward into the group of single women but staying on the fringes and he could tell her smile was forced. Summer Arnold caught the bouquet, while Josh caught the garter—funny how the women seemed to lunge forward for the flowers while the men were more content to let the scrap of elasticized lace come to them. Rick laughed at their antics but he was getting drier and drier and in need of either a drink or an exit.

When someone was jostled by his elbow, their cocktail splashed over their glass and landed on his fingers. The sharp scent of gin rose up and instinctively he put his fingers to his lips.

He had to get out of here. Right now. Jess would have to understand.

She was standing by the mantel, laughing at something Art Ellis was saying and the sight of her, carefree and happy, hit him square in the gut.

He found the bride and groom first, and begged their forgiveness in calling it a night. When Tom furrowed his brow, Rick looked up at him and simply said, “Deliver me from temptation, okay?”

“Okay,” Tom answered, instantly understanding. Well, mostly understanding, Rick thought. The alcohol wasn’t the only temptation he was fighting tonight and both would get him in serious trouble.

He made his way through the crowded room to the fireplace, forced a smile on his lips though the edginess was racing through him now. “Jess, you got a quick sec?”

She put her hand on Art Ellis’s arm and excused herself, taking a step away from the older man who’d once been the caretaker for the house when Marian had been alive. “You should hear the stories that guy tells.” She laughed; her shoulders relaxed. “I can’t tell which ones are true and which are total fabrication. But I enjoy them all.”

He hated to burst her bubble. “Listen, Jess, I gotta go. I just wanted to let you know rather than disappearing.”

The smile slid from her face. “But it’s not even ten o’clock.”

“I know. Are you okay to get home? I know you’re probably not ready to leave the party. I just … I need to get out of here.”

Jess’s gaze turned sharp. “Why?”

He sighed. “I made you a promise about today and I don’t want to break it. And I’m tempted. So it’s better if I just leave. There are too many people. Just too … much.”

He hadn’t realized that before. But crowds, close quarters … they made his anxiety level spike. And with the anxiety came the need for something to help him relax.

Her eyes softened. “Oh, Rick…”

She looked up at him and his heart slammed against his ribs. This was not good.

“I can get Josh or Mom to take me home, don’t worry about that.”

“Okay.”

“What time do you want me to meet you at Glen’s tomorrow? You’ll need a ride back to Jewell Cove.”

Shit. He hadn’t thought of that. It was probably better if he didn’t get too used to spending time with Jess. Maybe then he wouldn’t think of her quite so much. He could just imagine what would happen if he tried putting into action even half of what he’d been thinking lately. Holding her in his arms while they were dancing didn’t help matters in the least.

He scrambled to come up with something. “I’ve got a lift, thanks. You can sleep in and have a lazy day.”

“You’re sure?”

She almost sounded disappointed. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

“I’m sure.” There was a pause and then he added, “Right. I’d better go.”

He didn’t kiss her cheek. He didn’t dare. He offered a platonic smile instead and excused himself from the group, heading for the front door.

C
HAPTER
10

A week went by and Jess neither saw nor heard anything from Rick. Josh had mentioned that he and Rick had taken back the Mustang the morning after the wedding, and then stopped for breakfast at a truck stop. Josh made no mention of Rick being “under the weather,” and Jess couldn’t help but admire Rick for acknowledging his struggle with the bottle and taking the necessary steps to get through it okay.

And she figured if Rick wanted to talk to her, he’d make an effort to do so. She certainly was in no panic to talk to him. Why would she be? It wasn’t like they were really even getting along very well.

Except she couldn’t forget the way he’d held her—a little close, but not too close—as they’d danced.

During the time she spent
not
thinking about Rick, Jess kept herself busy manning the shop, holding classes twice a week in the back room, and sneaking in moments to knit on the baby blanket. It was nearly half done, but the lacy pattern meant having to count stitches and was something best done when she was sure not to be interrupted.

Another week passed and the foot traffic was peaking again. She worked long, hard days and in the evenings she threw herself into making items for the fall bazaar at the church—several pairs of earrings, which she hung for display on a three-sided cardboard “Christmas” tree, an assortment of tea candles, bath bombs, and appliquéd holiday ornaments.

That’s when she had the perfect idea to keep Rick busy.

Christmas ornaments.

She waited until Tessa was manning the shop on a Wednesday and zipped into the city to pick up clear glass balls. She bought a single box of fourteen to start, and then packed up a selection of candles in holders that she’d already made. And then she headed to Rick’s house. If she couldn’t get him out of his cave, maybe at least she could prompt him to become active in his community again.

She rang his doorbell, balancing the cardboard box of supplies in her arms.

He came to the door, eyeing her suspiciously as he stood in the entryway. “Jess,” he greeted, his voice guarded. “What brings you by?”

His hair was a bit too long, slightly mussed, and a day’s worth of stubble shadowed his face. He wore a gray hoodie and faded jeans that had a tear across one knee, and he was in his bare feet.

The look shouldn’t have worked, but it did. Ultra-casual Rick was at once both dangerous and cozy, a lethal combination that made Jess unable to speak for a few seconds.