Still Waters (12 page)

“How did
this
happen?”

Jake’s touch startled Tiffany and she turned to look at him, only to be forestalled by gentle pressure against the bruise on the side of her head. Wincing, she stopped moving and gritted her teeth against the pain. “I hit the wall sconce when the guy who broke in shoved past me.”

“You must have hit it pretty hard. I thought you told me he just pushed by you.” Jake’s fingers continued to explore the swollen knot of flesh, the gentleness of his touch belying the anger in his voice.

Tiffany felt surprised by both. “He did. But he was in a hurry and I was in the way.”

“A light shove doesn’t do this much damage. No wonder your head hurt earlier.” Jake gestured to the chair Tiffany had just pushed in. “Sit down. You need to put some ice on that.”

Tiffany wanted to argue but she figured if Jake was as much like her father as she suspected, he’d just come up with reasons she should do as he asked. With a sigh of resignation, she lowered herself into a chair.

“Here.” A plastic bag filled with ice was thrust into her hand and Tiffany dutifully applied it to the bruise. Jake hovered beside her shaking his head, a smile easing some of the anger from his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re shaking your head and smirking at me. I want to know why.”

“I’m just in awe of your trouble-finding capabilities.”

“I don’t find trouble.”

“You’re right. You don’t. It finds you.”

“I can’t help it. Trouble is the story of my life lately.” The words were said on a sigh but Tiffany felt a smile tugging at her lips.

“No, I suppose you can’t help it any more than I can.” Jake’s grin remained in place but it was joined by something that made Tiffany’s heart beat faster and her mouth go dry.

“Can what?”

“Help it.”

“Help what?” She must have hit her head harder than she thought. She had no idea what Jake was talking about.

“Help wanting to kiss you.” Jake’s grin was gone, his eyes once the color of summer sky had darkened to midnight.

For the first time in recent history Tiffany was speechless. “Should I take your silence for consent?” Before Tiffany could think of a response, Jake lowered his head and leaned in close. “You have lovely eyes. That’s the first thing I noticed about you. Dark green eyes are very unusual.”

“They are?” The words squeaked out of a mouth gone dry as the Sahara desert.

“Yes. And so are women who believe the best of people even when they don’t deserve it. Women who care more for others than for themselves.” Only a breath of air separated them, and Tiffany could see herself in the depth of Jake’s eyes. “You are a uniquely beautiful woman in every way. Is it any wonder I want to kiss you?”

“Umm. No?”

Jake laughed, raising his hands to cup Tiffany’s face. Her skin tingled where his hands rested, creating heat where none had been. “That’s one of the things I find so appealing about you. Your ability to laugh at everything life throws your way.”

The words, the touch, the steady gaze—they were entrancing. Tiffany fought the urge to lean closer, to close the tiny gap that remained between them. She told herself that she should pull away, stand up, make light of the intense moment.

But her body refused to cooperate with her common sense. Jake looked at her as no one else had, his gaze sweeping along the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw, and resting on her mouth before returning to its journey. His fingers moved, too, curling into her hair and smoothing down its length.

Tiffany sensed that he struggled with his own indecision and she wondered which she wanted more, for him to lean in closer or pull away.

Then, on a sigh, Jake lowered his mouth to hers.

She had waited her whole life for this—the gentle warmth of Jake’s lips against hers, the barely constrained passion that showed in the restless movements of his hands. When he finally pulled back, Tiffany felt abandoned and alone. Dazed, she looked up into his stormy eyes.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Stunned by the kiss and hurt that he would so soon regret what had happened between them, Tiffany mumbled the first thing she thought of. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“You do?” There was humor in Jake’s voice, as well as self-deprecation.

“Yes, it’s late. We’re both tired. We’ve had a traumatic experience—”

“
You
have had a traumatic experience.”

“Well, yes, that’s true but I’m sure the excitement—”

“The excitement had nothing to do with it. You did.”

“Oh. I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do. I’ve admired you since the day you pulled Bandit out of the lake. The more I know of you, the more I want to know and if things were different, I’d be asking you to dinner. But I’m not the guy for you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You would never hurt me.”

“I would.”

“Jake—”

“God has someone special planned for you, Tiffany. I don’t want to be in the way when he shows up.”

Before Tiffany could comment, Jake stood up and moved away. “I need to go. Let’s do a quick walk-through of your house.”

Without another word, he strode into the hall.

T
he following day Tiffany left the house early, hoping to conduct her business at the police station and be back home in time to meet with a locksmith and an alarm company representative later in the day.

It took three hours to be interviewed, fingerprinted and told she’d be called if there was any information about the case. The process would have taken half the time if Tiffany hadn’t known most of the people that worked at the station. Each of them had to express anger at Tiffany’s break-in and sorrow over her breakup. Usually she would have enjoyed the chitchat, but her nerves were on edge, her equilibrium disturbed by a culmination of the past few weeks’ events.

And the kiss.

Tiffany willingly admitted to herself that Jake’s kiss had left her shaken. Her early trip to the police station had as much to do with a desire to avoid him as it did with want
ing to get home at a decent time. So why did her eyes stray while she chatted? Why did she look up every time a door opened? If, as she told herself, she wanted to avoid the man, why was she looking for him around every corner?

Unwilling to think about the answers to those questions, Tiffany left the station and stopped at Becky’s Diner for lunch. She hoped the crowded diner would distract her from her thoughts but the hubbub of activity did little to soothe her feelings. The garden salad she ordered looked delicious, the lettuce crisp, the vegetables shiny and fresh. Tiffany ate alone, nearly choking on every bite, until she finally gave up and pushed the plate away.

She hated salad. She hated eating alone. She hated…

“You look fit to be tied. I can’t recall ever seeing you look so angry. Something to do with last night?”

For a moment Tiffany’s heart froze. Did the whole town know about the kiss? “Last night?”

Doris slid into the booth across from her, brown face creased with worry. “Heard there was trouble at your house last night.”

Relieved, Tiffany tried to smile. “Not much. Just some vandalism. How did you hear about it?”

“Girl, you know rumors fly fast and far around here.” Doris’s dark eyes flashed with humor. “Besides Henry Simmons came in for coffee this morning. He had himself all worked up about it. Kept sayin’ a woman needs a man to ease her way through the world. I about hit him over the head with a frying pan.”

“You seem to have done okay without a man.”

“Oh, I had one once. A long time ago.” Eyes staring into the distance, Doris seemed sad, almost frail.

Tiffany reached out and touched her hand. “I didn’t know you’d been married.”

“Married? It never did get that far.” Doris shook her head, smiling at some memory. “We planned to. I even had a white dress picked out for the occasion.”

“What happened?”

“He died. Killed fighting a war that wasn’t a war.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Doris shook her head again, the motion brusque. “No need. Like I said it was a long time ago.”

“And you never met anyone else you could love?”

“Sometimes it’s like that. A man is just so right, no other man will ever do.”

The story was romantic and sad, a story that Tiffany would have liked to hear more about.

Doris forestalled any further questions by asking one of her own. “So, is that what’s botherin’ you? Man trouble? Seems to me you haven’t been happy since you broke up with Doc Brian.”

“That’s not true. I’m very happy.”

“Yeah? The frown lines you’re cultivatin’ say different.”

“I’m fine, I just don’t like salad.”

“Then why eat it?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m fat, I’m over thirty, and I’m single.”

“Is that self-pity I hear? Your mother would be surprised at you, sitting here feelin’ sorry for yourself when you have so much to be thankful for.” Doris was right, Tiffany knew it, but knowing it didn’t make her feel any better. “Besides, you may be over thirty and you may be single but you’re not fat. You’re gettin’ downright scrawny in my opinion.”

“Right.”

“My opinion not good enough for you? Fine, we’ll ask somebody else. Be right back.”

Tiffany saw the gleam in Doris’s eyes a moment too late. Before she could protest the older woman had hopped up
from her seat and moved with surprising swiftness through the crowded tables.

She was back a moment later, an unmistakable figure following along behind. Doris’s voice could be heard clearly above the lunch crowd din. “I sure appreciate your opinion on this, Sheriff Reed. You seem like a man of refined taste, no doubt you know more about a lot of things, what with living in the city and all.”

“Miss Doris, I’ve lived in the city but I’m not much on art—”

“Oh, did you think I was talkin’ about art?”

“You did say a picture?”

“Well, Tiffany is a picture of loveliness this afternoon, don’t you think?” Tiffany watched, humiliated, as Jake’s gaze traveled toward the booth. A flicker of surprise glimmered in his eyes, replaced quickly by an emotion Tiffany couldn’t quite put her finger on. Regret for last night more than likely. Just thinking about the kiss and Jake’s apology had Tiffany’s cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Tiffany was saying she had to force-feed herself that salad. Not much of a meal in my opinion. Especially not for someone as skinny as her. What do you think, Sheriff Reed? The girl should be eating more than salad, right?”

A smile touched the corner of Jake’s mouth and Tiffany felt her face heating even more. “I’d say one of those pot pies you’re famous for would be in order here, Miss Doris. Maybe a bowl of chocolate pudding with whipped cream for dessert.”

“Just what I was thinkin’, Sheriff. Why don’t you sit down there across from Tiffany and wait for your sandwich. Won’t be more than a few minutes.”

Tiffany watched the exchange with amused resignation.
Doris was wily as a fox and had matchmaking down to a science. Jake had just walked into her trap.

“No, I—”

“Sit. Your other seat’s already gone. This place is hoppin’ today.” Jake’s gaze drifted across the crowded room before he reluctantly admitted defeat and slid into the booth across from Tiffany. With a nod of approval, Doris walked away.

Tiffany picked at her salad and studiously avoided Jake’s eyes. He had made his position clear the night before. The kiss had been mistake. Covering his blunder with a pretense of nobility had only added to Tiffany’s humiliation. Just thinking about his “there is somebody out there for you” speech brought fresh color to Tiffany’s cheeks and filled her with an absurd urge to cry. Pushing the plate of lettuce away, she stood. “I’m finished. Guess I’ll be on my way.”

“Can you stay for a minute? I planned to stop by your house after lunch. This will save some time.”

“Of course.” Sliding back into the booth, Tiffany grabbed the glass of water she had been sipping and took a few gulps, still avoiding eye contact.

“Did you make it to the station this morning?”

“Yes. I was fingerprinted and I gave a list of people who visited the house last week.”

“Good. We can get working on the prints I took last night. Who knows? We might get lucky.”

“But you’re not holding out hope.”

“No. And unfortunately I can’t make arrests based on speculation.”

“You think you know who broke in?” Startled, Tiffany looked up and met Jake’s gaze.

“I have some ideas. A few Main Street shop owners have seen a group of teens wandering around town. Mostly summer kids.”

“Have you gotten any names?”

“A few. I’m going to feel Tom out today. See if he wants to give me more information now that your house has been broken into.”

“I doubt he knows anything.”

“We’ll see. One way or another I’m going to talk to some kids and parents this evening. Let them know that we’re keeping an eye on them.”

“Maybe that’ll take care of the problem.”

Jake doubted it, but didn’t say as much. “How’s your head feeling?”

“Fine.”

“No pain?”

“No more then I’d expect.”

“Good.” Jake eyed Tiffany’s salad for a moment, then grabbed a cherry tomato, ate it and reached for another one. “Looks like Doris is bringing the food. I’m starving.”

Tiffany eyed the triple layer club sandwich that Doris slid in front of Jake and ordered her stomach not to growl. When a second plate appeared in front of her, she had to bite back a groan. “Doris, I can’t eat that.”

“It’s on the house. Enjoy.”

Before Tiffany could argue further, Doris was gone.

The heady aroma of roast chicken and fresh vegetables drifted from the pot pie, and Tiffany’s mouth watered as she eyed the golden crust. Her diet resolve crumbling, she figured the safest thing to do was leave. “I need to go. I’ve got a locksmith coming out in a few hours and I want to call a couple of home security companies before then.”

Jake placed a hand on her arm, holding her in place when Tiffany would have stood. “I can give you the name of a guy who’ll install a great system for a good price. Why don’t you take a breather and eat your lunch?”

“I already had a salad.” Tiffany saw Jake’s gaze shift to the still-f salad bowl and felt her resolution waver even more. She’d barely touched the salad and she was hungry.

“Doesn’t look like you ate much and Doris will get her feelings hurt if you don’t take a few bites of that pot pie.”

Tiffany sighed, settling back into the booth. “I know. She really is a softy under all the vinegar.”

“Yeah, but don’t let on that you know. She might stop giving me refills on my coffee when I work nights.” Jake paused, eyeing Tiffany curiously as she picked up her fork and poked at the pie crust. “Doris is right.”

“About?”

“You have lost weight since we met. You’re getting scrawny.”

“I’ll never be scrawny.”

“You’re not
meant
to be scrawny but you will be if you keep picking at your food like that.”

“I’m not picking at my food!”

“Yes, you are. You haven’t eaten a bite. Look,
this
is how you eat.” Jake reached across the table with his fork, stabbed a chunk of chicken and ate it. “Now you try.”

Tiffany dutifully lifted a carrot to her mouth, almost closing her eyes in bliss as the creamy sauce met her tongue. A chunk of chicken followed the first bite and Jake nodded with approval and grinned over the half sandwich he held. “
Now
you’ve got the hang of it.”

Tiffany grinned back and took another bite.

Half an hour later, she patted a hand against her stomach and groaned. “I ate way too much. You shouldn’t have encouraged me.”

“I only suggested that you try Doris’s strawberry cheese-cake. I didn’t force it down your throat.” Jake’s eyes danced with humor and Tiffany couldn’t help smiling in return.

“That’s true. I guess I only have myself to blame for the extra two miles I’m going to have to run tonight.”

“You’re not going running alone, are you?”

“No, Bandit will be with me.”

“Be careful anyway. If you can, find a friend to go with you.”

Tiffany nodded; she wasn’t sure she’d go out at all. The incident the night before had scared her, giving her a new sense of her own vulnerability. “I may just use my treadmill. I hate it, but for now it might be safer. Which reminds me, if I don’t leave now, I’ll miss the locksmith.” Tiffany stood, dug through her purse and laid several dollar bills on the table.

“I’ll walk out with you.” A true gentleman, Jake held Tiffany’s elbow as they made their way through the crowded room and out the door.

The sun had heated the air to an almost unbreathable temperature and Tiffany gasped as she left the coolness of the diner. “Today is another scorcher. I hope Tom is taking a break during the worst of this heat.”

“He showed up for work today?”

“Yes. His father doesn’t have a weekend run, so Tom asked if he could work. Why?”

“Just wondered if he knew about last night.”

“He seemed surprised when he saw the damage, but even if he did know, it wouldn’t mean much. Everyone in town seems to know what happened.”

“True.” Though Jake agreed, Tiffany could hear the doubt in his voice and knew he suspected Tom’s involvement in her troubles.

She resisted the urge to argue on Tom’s behalf. “Will you let me know if you find out anything?”

“Sure.”

They reached Tiffany’s car and she fished in her purse for her keys, her hand pausing in its exploration when Jake leaned in close, his fingers probing the still swollen flesh behind her ear. “This has got to hurt more than a little.”

“It’s not that bad. Really.”

“Good. I was worried you might have done more damage than you thought.”

“Nope.” Tiffany’s fingers clasped around her keys and she pulled them from her purse, hoping all the while that Jake wouldn’t mention the kiss they’d shared.

“Tiffany, I wanted to talk to you about something besides the break-in.”

“I hope I haven’t committed some crime I’m unaware of.”

Jake didn’t respond to her jocular tone. “It’s about last night—”

Raising a hand, Tiffany stopped the words before they both regretted them. “Jake, I want to put last night behind us. I enjoy your company and your friendship. I understand what happened last night was a mistake. Let’s not rehash the whole thing.”

Before he had time to respond, she opened the car door and closed it behind her. She could feel Jake watching as she backed out of the parking space and drove away, but Tiffany refused to do more than send a quick wave in his direction.

The kiss had affected her profoundly. She’d seen more than stars; she’d seen the future. Now she had to backtrack, accept that Jake thought he’d made a mistake, and try hard not to fall in love with a man who seemed to be everything she wanted and all that she couldn’t have.

As she pulled the car onto Monroe Street and headed for home, Tiffany had a sinking suspicion it was already too late for that.

If Jake hadn’t made plans to go fishing with Ben Avery, he would have spent the rest of the afternoon alone. He felt irritable and angry and wasn’t sure why. The conversation he’d had with Tiffany had gone as he’d hoped. Though he hadn’t expected her to anticipate his words, speak them for him and drive away before he could respond, all in all, Jake would say he’d accomplished his goal—to make sure that Tiffany understood there was no future for them aside from friendship.