“I want to send it to another valuer I know, but I wanted to check that would be okay with you before I did. I’m afraid this goes beyond my expertise.”
“Of course. You have me interested now to know its history.”
“It might come back as nothing, but I have a hunch there’s more to it than meets the eye.”
“Well, I trust your hunches,” I tell him.
“How are things at the store?”
I consider not telling him, but I would hate for him to find out elsewhere. “I got broken into.”
“What?”
“I know. This neighborhood is supposed to be safe, but I’m not sure how true that is now.”
“Was any damage done?”
“A lot of stock was destroyed, but I managed to recover some.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Nee.”
The bell over the door goes and I glance up from where I’m standing to see Jared in the doorway. I blink, sure he’ll disappear like an apparition, but he doesn’t. He rubs absently at his neck, his expression a little wary. I don’t blame him. The last time I saw him was a few days ago and he was telling me the kiss we shared was a mistake.
He also told me he was responsible for his wife’s death, which has been playing on my mind in a loop. How could he be responsible for that? What I know of the man is he’s a good guy. No way did he cause someone else’s death. I want to ask, but I don’t want to poke at any old wounds.
Without taking my eyes off Jared, I speak into the phone. “Harry, I’ve got to go. Let me know how you get on with the portrait.”
“Will do, Nee. Bye.”
I hang up, muttering a bye, but my attention is already firmly locked on Jared.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, but my voice is not as firm as I would like. There’s a slight tremble in my words.
“I uh… I’m sorry.”
This surprises me. I didn’t expect an apology.
“Apology accepted,” I declare, feeling magnanimous in this moment, although the dejected look on his face has me rethinking this.
“I reacted badly the other day. I shouldn’t have called what we did a mistake.”
“You think it wasn’t?” I ask, curious to hear his answer.
“I think it was badly timed.”
That’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either. It is enough to make me bristle. “Did you come over here just to say this?”
He winces. “I’m making more of a mess, aren’t I?”
I smile at him, because he is.
He stares at his feet, as if trying to work out the words to use.
“I uh… you’re the first woman I’ve thought about… like that… since Robyn died.”
He flinches as he says her name, his deceased wife.
Anger forgotten, I want to go to him, to comfort him, but I stay rooted to the floor. I’m not sure he will appreciate my sympathy here.
“It’s okay to feel weird about it. You’re my first since I left Thomas. I was feeling a little strange myself, but Jared, you said her death was your fault. What did that mean?”
His eyes close and I see the pain ripple across his face. “It happened when Coop was just a few weeks old. We were coming back from my mom’s… and it was raining.” His throat bobs as he tries to find the words.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say, suddenly not sure I want to hear this story.
“I need to. You need to understand what you’re getting into here.” He clears his throat. “I pulled over because the rain was so bad and where I pulled over… I guess it wasn’t safe. We got T-boned by another car.”
I frown at him as the words settle into my brain. “I’m not seeing how you did anything wrong.”
“I wanted to visit my mom. I put the car in the place where we got hit.”
“And the car that hit you? They did nothing wrong, right?”
His tongue dips out to wet his bottom lip and I follow the movement, a little mesmerized by it.
“If I hadn’t stopped where I did—”
“If visibility was so bad, you did the right thing by stopping. The other driver didn’t. He or she hit you because they were being negligent. You weren’t to blame. What happened was a tragic incident, and nothing you’ve told me makes me think you were culpable, and clearly the police didn’t either because you’re standing here, a free man. You have to let go of your guilt. It’s not good for you, or Cooper.”
He eyes me. “It’s hard to let go of something that is ingrained in you to believe.”
“It’s a lie, though. You were not responsible. From what you’ve told me, you did everything right. I don’t know what the future holds for us—if it holds anything—but for your own future, you have to let it go and move on. It’s not healthy to cling to the past like this.”
For a long moment, he stares at me. Then he says, “I want to explore this thing with us. I’m just…”
“Scared?” I fill in. “Me too. You don’t think it’s taking a lot for me to trust a man after what Thomas did to me?”
I watch as Jared’s face darkens. “I’m not like him. I’ll never lay a finger on you in anger.”
I move to him, my hand resting on his arm. I truly believe him. Thomas was always a little off.
“I know that. I know you’re one of the good ones, Jared. I can see it in you, but that doesn’t stop me being worried or anxious.”
He takes my hands in his. “I would never hurt you, Nia. You have to believe that.”
I don’t point out that his actions the other day hurt. We’re in a fragile place right now, and I don’t want to tip either of us over the edge.
He dips his head. “You’re going to have to be patient with me.”
“As are you with me.”
Jared nods, then lowers his mouth, so our lips are scant inches from each other. His eyes scan my face before he takes me. It’s a warm, wet and delicious kiss, one that I feel from my toes up. Our mouths move in unison, like we’re one entity, one consciousness, focused only on taking from the other. His hands slip to my waist and they’re all that steadies me as my legs wobble beneath me.
Kissing Jared could fast become my favorite pastime.
When he pulls back, he studies me again, even as I do the same.
“Okay?”
“Very much so.”
He smiles, and it’s so rare a display of happiness that I vow I’ll make him smile every day. It lights up his entire face, softening out the lines and chasing away the demons.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow.”
I match his expression. “Really?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, really.”
“Okay. I’d love that.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’ll pick you up at seven. What’s your address?”
I give it to him and he presses his mouth to mine again. “Thank you.”
Puzzled, I ask, “For what?”
“For giving me a second chance, and for not believing the worst in me.”
I lean up again and press my mouth to his, hoping the action will speak louder than my words.
“You're worth it.” And I truly mean it.