“No, she’s staying overnight, but I should get some stuff done before bed.”
He wanted to stall her if he could. Her actions were opposite to the way she wanted to act-opposite to what he wanted, too. “Like…”
“Laundry, housecleaning.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“Not exciting, but necessary.”
She was making herself seem as asexual as possible. It was the reverse of what he’d just seen her do online. Suspecting that was because she felt the same desire he did and was trying to put some distance between them, he decided to be honest with her. “You know you’re going to have to get over it eventually, don’t you?”
A deeper wariness entered her expression as she packed up the food. “Get over what?”
“Your fear of men.”
“I’m not afraid of men.”
“You nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched you.”
“You startled me-that’s all.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t react that way with every man.”
“Only me.”
She didn’t seem comfortable agreeing or disagreeing. “It’s probably the setting,” she hedged.
“That and the fact that you haven’t made love since your husband’s attack. Five years is a long time.”
Her throat muscles moved as if she had trouble swallowing. “How do you know I haven’t made love since then?”
“It shows. When you look at me, you start remembering what it was like.” He lowered his voice. “I’m guessing you want to be touched. That you want to feel alive, carefree.”
She slung her purse over her shoulder. “That’s a nice illusion. But I can’t be carefree,” she said with a brittle laugh. “Not anymore.”
He put his wineglass on the desk and stood. “You don’t have to give up that easily, Jane.”
“Give up?”
“You could fight for what you want-decide to recover in this way, too.”
She shook her head. “You…you’re wrong. I’m fully recovered.”
“You don’t miss the feel of a man’s hands on your body? His mouth on your breast? His-”
“Stop it! I don’t know why you’re doing this. I don’t miss anything.”
It was a lie. She’d spoken too loud, too rapidly. “Then what are you thinking about right now?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Those wide eyes of yours tell another story.”
Her attention drifted to the bed, but she edged away from it. “I’d better go.”
No matter how much she denied it, she’d rather stay. He could sense it. If only he could convince her to trust him. “I don’t have any condoms, Jane. I haven’t been with anyone in months. But I could get some.”
“I appreciate your including me in your investigation,” she said and grabbed the hamper.
That was a no. He wouldn’t push her any further. “Fine.” He took the basket so he could carry it to the door. “Thanks for the cooking.”
“No problem.” She stepped outside and grabbed the basket from his hands. At that point, he meant only to say good-night, so even he was surprised by the words that came out of his mouth.
“I’ll be here if you decide to come back.”
Ten
Jane parked at the convenience store but let her car idle. It was stupid to waste gas, but it was hard to care about such practicalities when all she could think about was the way her body had burned the moment she’d come into close contact with Sebastian. He was right; she missed having a sex life. She’d tried to cut that away, along with everything else that’d been part of her relationship with Oliver, but it was getting more difficult to ignore the natural cravings of a healthy body. She’d assumed that she bore too many scars from the past, that she couldn’t take the risk. Now she was beginning to wonder if she just hadn’t met anyone who tempted her enough.
Go back to his motel. When will you get another chance like this? She was certain Sebastian would be discreet. They knew only David in common. And Sebastian wouldn’t be staying in Sacramento for long. He was living in a motel, for crying out loud. They’d enjoy a short interlude together, he’d leave and that would be it. No one would be the wiser.
Taking a deep breath, she called her in-laws to check on Kate.
“She’s brushing her teeth. Do you want to talk to her?” Betty asked.
“No, I…I just wanted to be sure she was settled in for the night.”
“She’s ready for bed. Her homework’s done. And I’ll get her to school on time. Don’t worry about that.”
Her in-laws were reliable. Betty and Maurice had helped out a lot over the years, especially when Oliver was in prison and Jane had been struggling to make a living as a hairstylist.
“Thank you. You’re so good to us.”
“I love doing it. But…you won’t mind being home alone tonight, will you?”
She heard the concern in her mother-in-law’s voice. As illogical as they knew it was, the Burkes felt some measure of responsibility for Oliver. They’d created him, raised him; therefore, it was their mistakes that’d made him turn out as he had. “I won’t mind.”
“It’s only nine-thirty, Jane. Why not go have a drink somewhere? See if you can meet someone?”
If her mother-in-law had any idea what she was contemplating…“I’m too tired for that,” she lied. “I think I’ll head straight home to bed.”
“I wish-” Betty fell silent.
“What is it?” Jane asked, but she already knew what her mother-in-law wished. She wished they could all heal and forget.
“You must be lonely, Janey.”
She and Noah’s widow, Wendy, and the grandkids were all the Burkes had left. Wendy had grown as close to them as Jane had, but they weren’t close to each other. Wendy still blamed Jane for Noah’s death.
Jane took a deep breath. “Mom, stop worrying about me, okay?”
“I’ll try, honey.” There was another brief silence. “Do you need me to pick up Kate from school tomorrow?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
“Call me if you change your mind.”
Jane smiled at her willingness to pitch in, to be involved. The Burkes adored their grandchildren, clung to them even tighter now that they’d lost so much. “Will do. Love you,” she said and disconnected.
A car pulled in alongside hers. Jane continued to let her car idle as the driver went into the store and came out with a six-pack.
Should she go back to Sebastian’s room?
Why not? What was the big deal? It would be merely a temporary arrangement between two lonely people. Once she knew she could get beyond her fears of intimacy, maybe she’d be ready to start dating again.
Jane couldn’t imagine that, but the idea of a trial run seemed logical. Wouldn’t it be better to know if she was capable of letting go?
Her cell phone rang. She didn’t welcome the diversion-she was too focused on her decision-but it was David, so she answered.
“How’d it go today?” he asked.
Jane got out of her car and walked through the aisles of the convenience store as she explained what had happened in Ione and at the motel with the instant messaging.
“So Sebastian seems normal?” David asked.
He was as “normal” as she was, but she knew she was using the term loosely. They were both damaged, both still fighting to build new lives from the ashes of their old ones. “Yeah, he’s fine. We’re lucky he’s helping us. How’d your search go?”
“I found the gun.”
“The murder weapon?”
“Yep.”
“So you’ll be able to close this homicide case?”
“I can only hope.”
A bored-looking man in his late fifties stood behind the cash register. Every time Jane glanced up, she saw him watching her, so she purposely passed up the condoms and pretended to be examining the snacks.
“Tomorrow, I’ll get hold of the owner of that house in Ione, see if Wesley Boss has a forwarding address,” she told David.
“Let me know what you find.”
“Of course.”
He yawned loudly. “Thanks for your help, Jane. I’m so buried, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you today.”
“You’re doing the best you can. Don’t beat yourself up because you can’t do more.”