Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (3 page)

BOOK: Promises Prevail (The Promise Series)
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Clint’s chair creaked as he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “So Jenna… Do you disapprove of my treatment of Miss Salisbury?”

She clutched Danny close and battled her cowardice. She’d started this, and she should end it with a definitive “Yes”, but it wasn’t that easy to get the word out. Clint could destroy her business. He could destroy her. She opened her mouth. Her lips formed the word, but nothing came out.

“What was that?” Clint asked.

She closed her eyes, humiliation washing over her at her own cowardice. Within her arms, Danny straightened and growled a long, low, warning rumble at Clint.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out guarding my horse?” Clint asked the dog, the straight slash of his brow rising on the question.

Danny didn’t move and he didn’t shut up. Jenna leaned down and whispered in his ear. He quieted immediately.

Clint watched as Jenna bent to Danny. Her skin was whiter than white, and her eyes held that haunted look that told him how close she was to breaking. She stood there, her deliciously plump body half hidden by his dog, her pride around her toes and he knew she reached for the strength that she relied on. Knew she’d find it, too. Goddamn it, he ought to let her humiliate herself like this simply because she would. Instead, he found himself wanting to slip between her silence and her intent, wanting to offer her a way out.

The impulse passed as Jenna slowly straightened. Her bright blue eyes met his for the first time in the last five minutes, before dropping away uncomfortably.

“Danny is very sensitive,” she whispered.

Clint gave the huge dog, which looked like a cross between a bear and a bloodhound, a tap on his nose.

“He didn’t used to be.”

But he was a damned good judge of character, and he’d taken to Jenna Hennesey right off, lying beside her in that burning building, ready to die with her. Almost did when the roof of that bedraggled shack had come crashing down around them. He still didn’t know how they’d gotten out of there. She’d shown incredible inner strength that night. Holding on despite the tremendous pain. Holding on when he thought she’d pass out, knowing he’d lose her if she did. Digging deep when he asked her to. He hadn’t seen a lick of that incredible inner strength since, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

Plain and simple, Jenna Hennesey was too nice for her own good. Almost a doormat. Unless she thought someone was being picked on. Then she dug in her heels and fought. Quietly, subtly, but with an iron will that didn’t flinch. The hell of it was that she pulled him both ways. One way he wanted to wrap her up and cuddle all that softness close. The other he wanted to throw her to the ground and bury himself in all that lush feminine strength.

Neither was an option. Jenna Hennesey had paid enough in her life for one woman. Hooking up with him would only give her more pain. Jenna needed a man filled with ideals and hope for tomorrow. A man who could echo the optimism she wore like a banner. His had long since dried up.

“Now that we’ve cleared up the unpleasantness, could we have our lunch?” Rebecca asked.

Jenna flashed her a grateful look, one that showed her dimples. Clint felt the familiar twitch in his cock that he always experienced in Jenna’s presence. He squashed the arousal and gave Rebecca his best smile. She blinked and caught her breath. He’d seen the reaction a thousand times from a thousand women. In his youth, he’d used it. In later years, he’d taken advantage of it, but now… Hell. He looked into Rebecca’s expectant face. Hell, now he had no use for it.

“Lunch would be fine.”

Clint glanced at Jenna. Her round face was drawn with tension. She was worried. He was willing to bet that the fingers buried in the dog’s ruff were white-knuckled. Damn, why did he always feel compelled to push her? Was he so shallow, so empty, that he couldn’t handle one woman who did not fall at his feet?

“I’ll have the soup, and if you haven’t earmarked every piece of that custard pie for Danny, I’ll have a slice of that to go with it.”

He could tell from the dismay flooding Jenna’s expression that she had done just that.

“There’s only one piece left…” her voice trailed off.

Clint would have pleaded his case, but as if sensing his pie was in danger, Danny tipped his head back and let the loose skin around his face sag, giving him a look so woeful that Clint didn’t bother to compete.

“Hell.”

Jenna kissed Danny’s nose. “I’m sorry.”

She stumbled back as Danny let his full weight lean against her.

“I should be used to it by now,” Clint muttered, catching her wrist and steadying her.

“Used to what?” Rebecca asked, eyeing his fingers on Jenna’s wrist.

“Being outmaneuvered by a mutt.” He released Jenna, noting with interest the faint pink touching her cheeks.

“Danny is not a mutt.”

There was that hint of steel threading Jenna’s husky voice that always triggered a purely sexual reaction in him.

“Then what is he?”

She didn’t have an answer, but her soft mouth thinned with determination. Three seconds later she had one.

“He’s special.”

He would give her that. He had yet to decide if the dog was a blessing or a curse.

“What else is on the menu?”

She shifted her feet and bit her lip, something he’d noticed she did when ill at ease.

“I experimented today with a new recipe.”

“Yeah?” Things were looking up. Jenna’s experiments were always a jaw-dropping experience.

“Yes.”

“What did you make?” Rebecca asked cautiously, sitting up and keeping her eyes on Danny the whole time.

“I tried a torte.”

Clint’s mouth was already watering.

“Chocolate?” he asked, hoping against hope. Used to be that Jenna always baked a chocolate dessert on Saturdays, but then someone had noted that the new desserts always coincided with his visits, and she’d stopped. He figured she didn’t want him thinking she was encouraging his kind.

Her, “Yes” was soft, and her gaze didn’t meet his. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, forcing her dimples into prominence. His cock went rock-hard in a rush. Damn, the woman was too beautiful for words. Jenna might not be for him, but he’d like to sink for a week into those lush curves of hers. Bury his face in the deep cleavage between her breasts and immerse himself in her scent. He bet she’d be soft and welcoming all over. The kind of softness that took away a man’s loneliness.

“That sounds delicious,” Rebecca sighed.

Jenna’s head came up. Clint noted she didn’t avoid Rebecca’s gaze like she did his.

“I hope so. It has a mocha walnut butter cream filling with a dark chocolate glaze. It might be too much for some.”

“There can never be too much chocolate,” Clint countered at the same time that Rebecca moaned and asked, “Any chance you are looking for sacrificial lambs to try out this new recipe?”

Jenna’s hands twisted in Danny’s fur. “I couldn’t charge you for it.”

Clint swore under his breath. “Like hell you couldn’t.”

Jenna was never going to make it in business if she didn’t realize that both her time and her effort were valuable.

“But it’s only an experiment.”

She looked genuinely distressed, as if paying for a dessert he might not like would break him.

“I’ll tell you what, if I don’t like it, I won’t pay for it.”

“I’d like to try it, too,” Rebecca piped up. “My momma has it in her head that chocolate is bad for the complexion, so I never get it unless I sneak it.”

That cinched it, Clint knew. Jenna would bring Rebecca the torte, because the one thing Jenna loved was chocolate and being without it made her cranky. It was why he’d paid Eloise to stock it in her store and to sell it to Jenna for a quarter of the price. She’d never been anywhere to know that the price she paid was too low. And it made Clint happy to know his money gave someone pleasure.

Jenna let go of Danny, wrapped her hands in her skirt and bit her lip, flashing those dimples again. He bit back a moan. His hunger for Jenna was getting out of control.

“I’ll bring it out, but only if you promise that you won’t feel obligated to say you like it if you don’t.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to like it,” Rebecca assured her. “It’s chocolate after all.”

The gentleness in her tone while talking to Jenna raised her up a notch in Clint’s opinion. He made a mental note to find a way to slip Rebecca chocolate now and again.

“I’ll be right back, then.” Jenna turned, flinching as her weight came down on her bad leg. Danny whined and leaned against her. With a nod, she acknowledged the bum hovering by the door and rubbed her thigh.

Clint shook his head when she invited the bum in before heading to the back of the shop, Danny pressed against her side, supporting her weight. Even from this distance he could smell the sour whiskey and old sweat emanating from the drunk’s dirty clothes. Any other shopkeeper wouldn’t have let him in the door, but Clint knew Jenna would seat him and treat him like a king, apologizing profusely to everyone he offended, but she wouldn’t send him away. He’d bet she wouldn’t even charge the no-account, her heart once again getting in the way of business.

Clint made a mental note to double his tip. The woman was too soft for her own good. Too stubborn, too. He could tell from her limp as she pushed through the kitchen door that her leg was killing her. No way was she going to make it through the whole day without a disaster, which meant no way was he going to get any peace for worrying about what form it would take. No sooner had the thought formed in his mind than a crash and a scream came from behind the swinging door. There was a moment of deafening silence, and then Danny howled.

Chapter Two

 

Clint was out of his chair, over the counter and through the door before the last note of the eerie howl faded to nothing. His blood ran cold. The only other time he’d heard Danny howl like that, Jenna had been trapped in that shack, fire roaring all around.

His first impression of the room was chaos. A shelf was down, the contents strewn over the stove and the counter, shards of broken pottery sprinkled about. Then he saw Danny sitting beside the downed shelf, his expression urgent. The shelf heaved. Clint’s heart stopped beating.

He threw the wood structure to the side. Beneath it lay Jenna. She struggled to kneel but then collapsed again. He caught her with an arm under her torso before she could hit the floor.

“Son of a bitch, are you all right?”

She nodded as he turned her over, sliding to his knees as he eased her onto her back.

“Like hell you are,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. Her expression was contorted with pain, her body arched over his knees as she struggled to contain the agony. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this. He caught her shoulders, holding her still.

“Hell, Sunshine, scream if you want to, but tell me where you’re hurt.”

She didn’t scream. Her short nails bit through his denims into his thighs as she gasped, “My leg.”

Danny growled deep in his throat a second before Rebecca asked, “Is she all right?”

Clint wanted to echo the growl as he looked over his shoulder and saw all the faces staring through the door. Jenna would be mortified. A quick glance down told him she already was. Her bright blue eyes were awash in tears.

“She’s fine, but if you could tell everyone that the restaurant’s closed for the rest of the day, I’d appreciate it.” He ignored Jenna’s violent shaking of her head. “Mrs. Hennesey needs a rest.”

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