The New Hope Cafe (11 page)

“You’re right. It’s none of your business.”

“You embarrassed him in front of his boss. Of course he’ll be
defensive. Maybe if you stepped back—”

“Step back?
That’s
your advice?” He
glared at her. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know him.
You don’t know what I’ve been through with him.” Jonah bristled, muscles tight,
tensed for a fight, and he loomed over her, his fury building with each word the
way Barrett’s used to. Her skin prickled and her stomach twisted. She was
scared.

“Please don’t yell at me,” she whispered.

Instantly, Jonah’s face cleared. “I’m sorry.” He looked away,
the muscle in his jaw ticking. When his gaze returned, he looked contrite. “I
shouldn’t have yelled.”

Barrett had always regretted his outbursts, too.

“It’s okay,” she said, but a chill had settled in Cara’s bones.
Jonah had a temper like Barrett’s. Men like that could explode in an instant
with a slap, a shove, a punch, before you could escape or even protect
yourself.

Jonah had caught himself quickly, responding immediately to her
request, but this had been a minor incident.

That wasn’t the only way Jonah reminded her of Barrett. He was
protective of her and attentive. Barrett had been like that. And Cara liked
that. She couldn’t deny it. That was a weakness she had.

The incident brought her up short. Jonah had showed his dark
side. It was a warning. She’d been
flirting
with
him, acting like they were on a
date,
which was
foolish. Had she not learned her lesson yet?

The argument ruined the fun, and they finished the game
quickly, awkwardly polite, and drove home in near silence. Beth Ann had picked
up the tension and peered from one to the other with big eyes.

Jonah dropped them off in front of the café and drove away.

Later, when Cara went to tell her good-night, Beth Ann said,
“Is Jonah mad at us?”

“No. He was upset about his brother. I said something he
disagreed with. We apologized and we’re fine now.”

“Are you sure?” Her daughter seemed hyperaware of people’s
moods. Did that come from the tension between Cara and Barrett? They’d both
protected her, she’d thought, but children didn’t miss much.

“I’m positive,” she said. “Don’t give it another thought.” But
she doubted it would be that easy for her. Another warning about Jonah she
should heed. Her daughter was watching.

Cara was about to climb into bed when a rattling sound drew her
to the window. Cupping her hands between her cheek and the glass, she saw Jonah
below her window, moonlight shining on his upturned face. His arm was back,
ready to throw more pebbles.

She cranked open the glass and stuck out her head. “What are
you doing?”

“I didn’t want to wake the whole house. I have something to say
if you’d come down.”

She looked at him, considering what to do, then nodded. “I’ll
meet you on the porch.” She pulled on shorts and a jersey tank top, slid into
flip-flops and headed downstairs. She found him on the steps, elbows on his
knees, hands clasped before him.

She sat close by, her back against a post. A mild breeze
whispered through the pines and lifted her hair so it tickled her cheek. Cars
swished by on the highway. Crickets sang.

When Jonah turned to her, their knees nearly touched. Moonlight
outlined his square jaw, the muscle jumping with tension. “I shouldn’t have
yelled at you. I know better.”

“You were upset about Evan,” she said. “It’s over.”

“That’s no excuse.” He held her gaze. “Not with you.”

What did that mean? Had he guessed she’d been abused? Had she
acted like a victim? God, no. Shame burned through her. Cara did not want his
pity. She wanted his respect. She wanted him to see her as capable and
assertive, not a frightened mouse.

“No one likes to be yelled at in public,” she said. “I’m not
fragile or weak or whatever it is you think I am. You said you were sorry.
That’s enough.”

Cara stood to go.

He blocked her way, his face confused. “I’ve offended you.”

She had to erase the concern from his face. “No. You didn’t
offend me. I appreciate your apology. And you were right.” She blew out a
breath. “Evan’s not my brother. I don’t know him. I shouldn’t have
interfered.”

He took that in before he spoke. “He gets a few weeks of
sobriety under his belt and he thinks he’s invincible. And he slips. And the
next thing you know, I’m bailing him out of jail after a bar fight or dragging
him from a fleabag hotel, scrawny and sick and dead broke.”

“That would be hard.”

“I can’t lose him, too. I just can’t.” He gave her one last
look, his eyes full of pain, then turned and strode away.

He’d lost his father, a wife and the babies. His aunt might be
sick, too, and he didn’t even know it yet. She couldn’t leave things this way.
He wouldn’t want her pity, but she could try to be his friend.

Cara ran across the yard.

He heard her and turned. She caught up with him near his
porch.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No. I just…” She didn’t know where to start. Behind him the
lights lit the beautiful furniture on his deck. “Did you build all that?”

He turned to see what she meant. “Yeah.”

“I can tell,” she said, climbing the steps to the deck, then
dropping into the swing. She pushed off. “Definitely a Jonah Gold.”

Warily, he joined her, sitting in a wide-armed chair close
by.

“That’s Arts and Crafts style. I recognize the joints. Mortise
and tenon, right?”

“What’s this about?”

“It’s a nice night to sit out and talk.”

“I guess.”

She kicked off her flip-flops and pushed off with her bare
feet. They sat in silence for a few minutes, while she figured out how to start.
“You said music was where it started with Evan....”

Jonah let a few seconds pass before he responded. “After high
school, he went to L.A. to promote a friend’s band and got into booze and
drugs.” His voice was distant with memory. “The music industry chews up and
spits out sturdy people. It’s brutal for addicts.”

“I can imagine.”

“Tonight he seemed on top of it, but I’ve fallen for that more
than once—given him cash for studio time, or a publicist, but he spent it
partying every time.”

“That would be difficult.”

“Yeah. A year ago I cut him off like they tell you to. So he
could hit bottom and decide to make the climb for himself. Instead, he got Rosie
to hire him as fry cook. When that went south I came out to get him
straight.”

“And took over in the café.”

“I’d sold my business. I was at loose ends.”

She remembered what he’d told Rosie about his business—and his
marriage.
They’re gone.

“I got him into an outpatient rehab program in Tucson. He
slipped a couple times. This time it’s three months, but he’s got that cocksure
tone again.”

“No wonder you snapped at me.” She tried to smile.

“I was way out of line. I saw your face, CJ. You looked
so…scared.” He cleared his throat. “I wish I could take it back.”

She hated the way he was beating himself up. “It’s true that
anger is…hard for me.”

He leveled his gaze at her. “He hurt you, didn’t he? Your
ex.”

So it was true. She
had
acted like
a victim. She couldn’t speak.

“That first day, when I caught your arm to keep you from
hitting the grill, you looked at me that way. Terrified. Braced for a blow.”

He was correct. She’d been so damaged it showed. It made her
feel so desolate, so hopeless.

“You’re running from him. That’s why the fake names and the
secrecy. And that phone call on the pay phone. Was it him?”

“No. It wasn’t
him.
”

“But it was about him.”

“Yes. He’s looking for us. Now I know for sure.” Saying it out
loud made it real and the fear poured through her again.

“Have you contacted the police?”

“They can’t do anything. I don’t have a restraining order—not
that that would stop him—he hasn’t directly threatened me.” And there was the
matter of his visitation rights, which put her on the wrong side of the law
anyway.

“New Hope is a needle in a haystack. You’re safe here.”

“No, we’re not. We’re not safe anywhere.” Cara realized her
teeth were chattering. She hugged herself.

“I’m sorry you’re in this mess.” Jonah moved to the swing and
put his arms around her, tucking her into the cave of his body.

It felt so good, the words poured out of her. “I’m sick of
being so afraid, of hiding, of watching every word, expecting him around every
corner. We were okay for a while, but now that he’s—”

Cara stopped. Already, Jonah knew too much. She wouldn’t
mention prison or even Barrett’s name. “I’m just worn-out.”

“And you’d like to grow a garden.”

She nodded against his shirt. “And finish school and start
teaching. I want a home where my daughter can make friends she can keep
forever.” The longing washed through her, stronger than ever.

After that Jonah simply held her, his heart beating steadily
against her ear, his chest swelling and subsiding with each breath. He smelled
of aftershave and wood and the cotton of his shirt.

Cara realized she’d never been held like this. Her mother gave
quick impatient hugs. Barrett’s embraces had been controlling or manipulative.
Her situation meant that friendships were superficial, so those hugs were
casual.

Jonah’s hug was solid and caring and real. She felt sheltered
from all harm. Her muscles loosened, her breathing slowed, her tension faded.
When she’d soaked up the moment so long she was sure his arms were numb, she let
go and looked up into his dark eyes. “Thank you. That helped.”

“Good.” He put his arm across the back of the swing, his hand
on her shoulder. “For the record, I don’t think you’re weak or fragile, CJ.
You’re strong and brave and…”

“Relentless?” She managed a smile.

“That for sure.”

“I’m glad that’s how you see me.”

“It’s how you are.” He linked his free hand with hers,
squeezing to tell her he meant it. Warmth poured through her.

Maybe she was stronger than she realized. Maybe she would be
okay. Looking at Jonah, she almost believed it. The swing swayed gently beneath
them, lulling her.

“I want you to feel safe here,” Jonah said.

Cara shifted to see his face. “I do. As safe as I ever feel.
What you said that first day, that I was in good hands, it steadied me. It’s
funny, but at night when I see your shop lights or hear you working, it helps me
fall asleep.”

“I think about you at night, too, but it doesn’t put me to
sleep.” Candle flames danced in his dark eyes, setting off her own desire. She
pictured him, restless in tangled sheets, wanting her, thinking of her.

“That happens, too. For me.”

He closed his eyes briefly, his breath a rasp. “I should have
kept my mouth shut.” He stopped the swing, squeezed her shoulder and let go of
her hand. “We have to stop. My bed’s too damn close and I know what it’s like to
kiss those lips.” He stared at her mouth.

“You’re right.” Cara took a deep breath, but it only made her
dizzier. Her arm felt bare without his around it, her hand empty. “I wish we
could be together. I do. I just…”

He waited for her to explain.

She owed him that. “I’m afraid that it would be…how it was with
him.” She swallowed. “That I’ll never be able to forget… That I’ll never be able
to…” She couldn’t finish. “It’s pointless to talk about it. I should go.” When
she stood, she wobbled.

Jonah rose and steadied her, his hands slow to leave her body.
“It’s not pointless. That’s how you feel. That’s the point.”

Cara searched his face. His eyes held compassion, not pity. And
desire.

“I want to be normal, you know?” The words were a whisper.
Not crippled forever by my past.

“It’s normal to want to take it slow. For anyone.” He
shrugged.

Jonah made her sound reasonable, and she felt a surge of hope.
Maybe one day she would be able to love a man and be loved in return.

Why not Jonah?
He was a good man.
She trusted him. Why couldn’t she try? When would there be a better time…or a
better man?

She was stronger, right? When they’d kissed, she hadn’t thought
of Barrett. She’d felt swept away, but now she knew what to expect. If she
focused on Jonah, how he made her feel, surely she could block out Barrett.

Cara looked up at him to explain, but the words were slow in
coming, so she went with what her body wanted, put her arms around his neck,
pulled him down and kissed him.

Jonah stilled against her lips, then broke off, taking her
hands from his neck to tuck them into his chest between their bodies. “What are
you doing?”

“I want to try, Jonah. I want this.”

“Are you s—”

She shut him up with another kiss.

This time he believed her. He pulled her tight against him and
kissed her back. Oh, did he kiss her back.

Cara closed her eyes and let go, enjoying the glory of being in
his arms, the way he kissed, his lips soft, then firm, slow, then fast. They
kissed for a long time, lips sliding, tongues dancing, quiet sounds of pleasure
floating away in the night. She could handle this. She loved this. It gave her
courage to go for more, the next step. She would let this lead her on.

Jonah cupped her head and broke off the kiss to study her face.
“You doing okay?”

“I’m doing great.” She was determined to be. She didn’t dare
stop or think or look down. “Take me to bed,” she said. “Now.”

He sucked in a breath as if he’d been socked with sudden
pleasure. “You got it.” He swung her into his arms.

Alarm shot through her. She was off the ground, under his
power. He could carry her anywhere.