Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) (13 page)

“Then youʼre even more naïve and irresponsible than I thought.”

“Maybe.”

He blew out a frustrated sigh. “What do you care if I stay or go, anyway? Iʼm nothing to you. A few days ago you didnʼt even know that I existed!”

“Yeah, well, now I do.”

Jack turned around and walked up to the porch rail. Perching against it, he drove a hand through his hair. “What the hell do you want from me, Sara? Whatʼs in it for you?”

“Satisfaction. Personal accomplishment,” she said without hesitation. That much was true, at least. “I believe that you’re innocent, and I want to help you prove it.”

“Iʼm not buying it.”

Guilt stabbed at her then.
A good story for her novel
. A bestseller that would save her from sure failure. Inspiration to keep doing what sheʼd always dreamed of. Thatʼs what was in it for her. That was the truth. And it made her feel horrible.

Maybe she should just go back to her original book and forget about her crazy plan to use Jackʼs story. Even better, she should tell him the truth about the whole thing. But how would he react to that? Jack was a hard, suspicious man, but for whatever wonderful reason, heʼd decided to trust her. Would the truth break his trust and ruin the bond between them? And what if he refused to let her use his story? She obviously couldn’t write a decent book by herself anymore. Without his help, she might have to give up writing altogether. Was the trust of a stranger worth giving up her dream? Not to mention that the only reason Jack was here in the first place was because of her plan, anyway.

Or was it?

Sara bit her thumb as she stared at his back, unable to put her emotions into words. Was it just the prospect of having a good story to write that made her want to be close to this man? Or was there more?

She inhaled sharply. Jack was quiet, obviously still waiting for her answer, but she had no idea what to tell him. She had no idea what she was feeling. “Why canʼt you accept that I care about you, Jack?” she asked in a murmur, opting for another little truth. Yes, she
did
care for him. More than she should, probably.

He huffed a breath, his back still to her. “Because itʼs ridiculous, thatʼs why. Because people donʼt care about other people after knowing them for only a few days―and certainly not about suspected murderers.”

“Well, I do. And I do want to help you—”

Jack turned around so abruptly that the rail creaked under his weight. “I donʼt need your damn help!” he nearly growled, his eyes blazing. “Iʼm not one of your injured pets, Sara. You canʼt just pick me up off the street, take me to your home, and expect everything to be all right!”

She winced at the harshness of his tone. Once again, she knew he was right, but his words still stabbed her chest like knife jabs. Incapable of thinking of anything worth saying, she kept quiet.

Jack slid her a contrite look, then breathed another heavy sigh. “Iʼm sorry. I didnʼt mean for it to come out like that.”

Sara shook her head. “No, youʼre right. I
am
being naïve, irresponsible, and stupid…”

“I never said you were stup—”

“But itʼs still better than being a coward.”

His eyes narrowed, hard as stone. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Sara looked straight at him even as he took a step forward. “Youʼre a coward if you choose to go. A coward and a quitter.”

“Watch your mouth, girl.”

Trying to ignore the wild pounding of her heart, she gave him another challenging look and stood up to face him. “I told you, Iʼm not scared of you. If you want to believe that youʼre this mean, dangerous guy, go ahead. But Iʼm not buying it. Leaving means running away, Jack. From Starville, from your past, and especially from yourself.”

Anger flashed across his eyes, and he didnʼt even bother to conceal it. “How can you accuse me of running away from myself when I donʼt even know who the hell I am?”

“And donʼt you want to find out? Donʼt you want to find out why, after all these years, you decided to come back to this town and to the people you allegedly despised so much?”

Jack broke into a sarcastic scoff. “Jeez, I donʼt know. To kill someone else, maybe?”

“You know what? Fine!” Sara raised her arms in defeat. “I give up! If thatʼs what you really think, then youʼre absolutely right. Leave, Jack, because thereʼs nothing for you here. Go back to wherever it is you came from…or wherever the heck you want to go next!”

A dead silence followed her words. His eyes locked with hers, as if trying to search deep into them, and she held his intense gaze with a determination that only came from fear—from the awareness that losing this battle to him meant losing him, too. Every muscle in her body stilled. She almost forgot to breathe as the evening air grew with tension, only broken by the rhythmic chirping of the crickets.

Finally, Jack averted his gaze. “You donʼt know me. You have no idea who the hell I am,” he said in a whisper.

“But I do want to find out.”

“Dammit, Sara!” Another frustrated sigh escaped his lips. “I donʼt want to hurt you.”

“You wonʼt. I trust you.”

Something seemed to break inside his chest. Jack didnʼt know what, didnʼt know why. All he knew was that somehow those three simple words meant the world to him, and that hearing them from Sara seemed to mean even more. Suddenly, he found himself blinking at the unfamiliar, treacherous stinging sensation in his eyes.

“Please, stay.”

He hesitated, his gaze back on her. After what felt like hours, he blew out a heavy breath and dropped back down on the swing. “All right. But only for a couple of months. Whether my memoryʼs back or not, Iʼm going back to Chicago at the end of the summer.”

Sara didnʼt bother to hide her relief. “Okay.”
The end of the summer
. If she decided to stick to her plan, by then sheʼd have a great story for her book. Her agent would be thrilled. And she should be happy, too―the timing sounded perfect. But Jack would be gone then. That didnʼt make her happy at all.

“Youʼll have to let me contribute to all the household expenses. And no, this is not up for discussion,” Jack added as she kept shaking her head.

“Youʼre my guest!”

“I donʼt want to be. If I stay, Iʼll be more like…a roommate. Iʼm going to pay rent and share bills, grocery expenses, and everything.”

“But―”

“No buts, Sara.” He raised a hand to stop her protest but gave her an encouraging smile. “Look, I donʼt know much about my life at the moment, but I know that there are at least a dozen credit cards in my wallet, so apparently money is not an issue for me. Please, let me share the household expenses with you.”

Sara let out a resigned sigh. “All right.”

He rewarded her capitulation with a slow, lazy grin that sent her pulse rocketing. “Thank you. But, Sara, I want you to promise that youʼll tell me if my presence here starts bothering you in any way. All you have to do is ask, and Iʼll leave.”

“Okay,” she conceded again, though she knew that was the last thing she would ever do. Heck, she didnʼt want him to leave. Not now―maybe not ever. And yes, it did bother her that, on the contrary, he kept talking about staying or going as if he didnʼt care either way.
Impulsive murderer, my ass!
She doubted heʼd ever done anything impulsive in his entire life. Jack had to be the most practical person sheʼd ever met; his calm rationality drove her insane. He always seemed to have full control of himself and everything, and it was maddening how he expected her to be in just as much control. He made her feel like an idiotic, immature, irresponsible brat. And so edgy she suddenly felt the urge to dash to the kitchen and cook a five-course meal.

Sara drew in a shaky breath. “Have you eaten yet?”

Jack turned around and gave her a blank stare, clearly disoriented by the sudden change of subject. “A sandwich, a few hours ago.”

“Good. Letʼs go make dinner.”

***

Jack placed his fork on the empty plate in front of him and leaned lazily against the back of his chair, a hand resting on his full stomach. Once again, the memory of how Sara had dragged him into the kitchen made him grin. Before he could even start protesting, heʼd found himself wearing an apron reading
Italians do it better
and holding a skillet. What was even more surprising was that heʼd actually enjoyed himself. He doubted he’d ever made lasagna and chocolate cake from scratch before and probably never cared for it, either. Not without Sara.

She was…fascinating. Smart and witty. Feisty and tenacious, yet sweet and caring. She was a constant contradiction and an endless surprise to him, always showing new sides of her personality—and Jack liked every single one of them. He liked her tenderness and the innocent way she blushed whenever he looked into her eyes. He was humbled by her kindness and generosity, but also admired the fire she showed when she was passionate about something. The determination with which she insisted on believing in his innocence and faced the townʼs hostility made him proud of her. And the way she seemed to melt under his touch drove him crazy with desire….

“Is everything all right?”

Jack jumped. “I think I ate too much,” he said, squirming uncomfortably in his chair.

“No kidding! I swear I donʼt know where you put those three slices of cake; if I dared eating so much food, it would all appear instantly on my butt and thighs.” Sara chuckled and stood to take the dirty dishes to the sink. Which was good, because that kept her from noticing how his gaze automatically moved to the body parts sheʼd mentioned.

“Work out, my dear. Thatʼs the key.”

“Yikes!” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Please, donʼt say profanities in my house.”

Jackʼs deep laughter filled the kitchen as he stood up and joined her beside the sink. “Itʼs not that bad, you know. I like running a few miles in the morning—”

They both gasped at his words. Sara turned to him in shock, but he looked even more confused than her. “W-what did you say?”

“I donʼt know where that came from,” he said pensively. “Itʼs not like I remember it or anything. It just…came out like that. Itʼs like I know it for a fact. Like I know that Christmas is in December, or that I like lots of syrup on my pancakes.”

“It makes sense. I guess.” She took a deep breath. “Jack, you need to get your head checked.”

“Just because I happened to have a flashback of myself running?”

“Yes. And because I ran into Doc this afternoon.” He didnʼt comment, but Sara sensed the way he stiffened at her words as he looked away and opened the dishwasher. “Heʼs worried about you.”

Jack scoffed a short laugh. “Right.”

“He thinks the injury on your head might have serious consequences if you donʼt take care of it. He would like to take a look at it. And your knee, too.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Forget it. Iʼm not going back to the hospital.”

“You donʼt have to. Doc said heʼll see you at his private office.” He shook his head. “Jack, you sustained a serious trauma and have no idea whatʼs going on with your head right now. You need to get it checked,” Sara insisted patiently, as if she were talking to a fussy child.

“Nope.”

Her frustration started to mount. “For Godʼs sake, it will take less than an hour! Itʼs just a simple checkup to make sure that your injuries are healing properly.”

“Theyʼre fine.”

“Please… If you donʼt want to do it for yourself, then do it for me, for my peace of mind.”

This time, at least, her words made him turn to look at her. “I bet Lacrod will be waiting for me there with a loaded gun in his hand.”

“Nonsense. Youʼre not a criminal, Jack. Max can say whatever he wants, but he canʼt make you do anything.”

“Youʼre not going to give up, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Sara said in a serious tone—but she knew he was about to cave, and a triumphant smile threatened to spread across her lips. She hid it by bending over and starting to load the dishwasher.

Jack watched her quietly for a few moments, then blew out a breath. “All right,” he conceded, handing her the last couple of plates. “It will have to be very quick, though. In and out, and I donʼt care if Doc says otherwise.”

“Deal.” No longer bothering to conceal her victorious smirk, Sara closed the dishwasher and turned to him. “All done. Now what?”

He shrugged. “Do you want to watch something on TV?”

“Sure.” Sara followed him to the living room but gave him an uncertain look as he dropped onto the couch with a loud yawn. “If youʼd rather sleep…”

“Nah, Iʼm too full.” Jack patted a hand beside him on the couch, as heʼd done earlier on the swing. And, just like earlier, Sara hesitated. “Come on. I think thereʼs a baseball game on.”

She arched a brow at that. “Do you like baseball?”

“I have no idea, but weʼre fixinʼ to find out.” He gave her a wink that made her stomach flip. Her hesitation melted away. God, she was weak!

As she sat beside him, Lance stood from his favorite spot on the rug and lay at their feet. Jack immediately bent forward. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured, rubbing him behind his pointy ears.

Saraʼs heart all but burst. There was something incredibly sweet about seeing him so relaxed and comfortable with her pets when, the first day heʼd arrived, heʼd looked at them as if they were aliens. “You guys are getting pretty close.”

“Heʼs not too bad.” Jack raised his gaze to her and slanted her an amused glance. “Apparently, I do like dogs.”

She tried to smile, but the image of Charlene that suddenly appeared before her eyes froze the smile on her lips. Whether Jack remembered it or not, apparently he liked gorgeous, sexy women, too. Sara looked away. “Jack, speaking of stuff you like… I also met one of your ex-girlfriends today.”

He sat up so fast she almost fell off the edge of the couch. “You
what?
”

“I, um… As you know, I had lunch with Brent and Nicky at The Cove—itʼs the most popular diner in Starville—and well, Brent informed us that years ago you had a relationship with the waitress, Charlene.” Her eyes moved back to him and watched him attentively, waiting for his reaction. He looked deep in thought, but his expression didnʼt give her any hint of what he might be thinking.