want to talk to me, Jessie?”
“Not particularly.”
“About anything? Or just not about Jack.”
Her pulse thrummed in her ears. She’d been avoiding his calls, putting off this moment for just this reason. She had no idea what to say to him. Did she know how unfair it was to let their new relationship suffer from the war wounds Jack had left behind? Of course she did. But could she do anything about the way she felt?
No.
Danny reached across the table and touched her hand. “I’m not just another Jack Stanton in your life, Jess.”
Her reply came out in a hoarse whisper. “I know.”
“Then why did you throw me out along with him the other night?” he asked. “And why have I not heard from you since?”
Tears rose in her eyes and stood there, hot and stinging, as she looked up at him. She owed him an explanation; and she wished she had one.
“What did he say to you when he was in here alone with you?”
Sometimes it felt like Danny could read her thoughts. Why did she feel like she couldn’t hide anything from him?
“Did he hurt you?”
“Only in here,” she said, tapping her balled fist against the sore place where her heart rested.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.” Okay, that was a lie. “Nothing I didn’t already know.”
“Like what?” he pressed.
“Like how I always seem to have some guy taking care of me. First, my grandfather. Then him. Now you.”
“Really?” he said, dropping the balled napkin onto the pizza still sitting on his plate. “You moved away from Louisiana to stand on your own and make a life here in L.A. No one was taking care of you then. You met and married someone who left you high and dry, and how did you respond? You picked yourself up and made a business out of nothing, all on your own.”
“Hardly on my own.”
“Jessie. I’m not here to take care of you,” he stated. “I’m here because you’re a part of me now. A part that—without it—I feel hollow. And I’ve never said that to another human being before in my life. Did you ever think . . . maybe . . . you’re the one taking care of me?”
A spike of emotion pierced her, dead center in the chest, and she narrowed her eyes just enough for the pool of tears to spill over and stream down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she managed, and she wiped her eyes with a napkin with a large blue flower stamped on the corner. “That’s a really nice thing for you to say.”
“It’s not just words, Jessie. Not just something I said.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” he asked, a question mark curving in his voice. “How do you know that?”
“Because you’re not the kind of man who just says what someone wants to hear.”
“That’s right.”
Danny pushed himself up from the floor and rounded the table. He eased himself down next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
“You and I started because of Jack,” he said softly. “But he has nothing to do with who we became.”
She dropped her head to Danny’s shoulder and sighed. She wanted to believe him, she really did. But something deep within Jessie made her feel like a foolish young girl again. The kind of girl she used to be. The kind of girl who could believe the pretty words of a pretty man, just because she wanted to believe them.
* * *
Danny hadn’t made the trip up the mountain at this time of year in a long time. He’d nearly forgotten what a beautiful drive it could be until that afternoon as they chugged up the snake-like road. But here they now were—he and Jessie—enjoying a leisurely pace in his open Jeep so that Riggs and Allie, following behind them in his clunker of a van, could manage to keep up.
“What are those pale yellow flowers along the side of the road?” Jessie asked him. “They smell like heaven.”
“Wild honeysuckle. My mom loves it too,” he told her. “She used to nag my dad until he pulled over and let her pick some on the way up, and she’d put them in those . . . you know, the jars?”
“Mason jars?”
“Right. She had them all over the cabin.”
“Ooh, that sounds really nice. Can we?”
Danny grinned. “There’s a turnout a few miles ahead.” He produced his cell phone from the pocket of his shirt and handed it to her. “Number three on the speed dial. Give Riggs a heads up that we’re about to make a stop.”
Allie apparently answered her father’s phone. The lilt in Jessie’s voice told him so. He couldn’t help sneaking one lingering glance at her—so relaxed, so different from the woman who could hardly look him square in the eye just a few nights prior over pizza. It did Danny’s heart good to see the change in her once the restraining order against Stanton had been issued and a little time and space had come between the two of them.
Jessie had put up a fuss when he’d asked her to come along on this weekend getaway, but enlisting Piper’s considerable influence had helped. And even Riggs had contributed to putting her mind at ease about the trip.
“I dropped by to replace her front door,” he’d confessed to Danny after a morning of surfing. “She offered me some coffee and I just told her casually that she could bunk with Allie. She’s into all that fashion stuff, and it’s not like there’s anybody like Jessie she can talk to about it, right? I didn’t tell her how, when she heard about the trip, Allie immediately asked if Amber was coming along. I just said she’d be doing me a solid by spending a little girl time with my kid.”
“And that worked,” Danny had marveled.
“Yeah, I guess. She said she’s going, didn’t she?”
“That she did.”
Every now and then, Aaron Riggs popped up and shocked him. This was one of those times.
Danny lowered the volume on the radio as he angled into the turnout. The tires on the two vehicles pushed crushing sounds out of the gravel as they came to a stop, side by side. Allie thrust open the passenger door on the van and jogged toward them.
“Isn’t it something up here, Jessie?” she exclaimed. “Beautiful, right?”
“Very.” Jessie swiveled out of the Jeep and they walked toward the border of wildflowers on the edge of the mountain. “Let’s pick some for the cabin.”
“Okay, cool.” Allie’s voice carried
