Jane’s not daunted though. She continues right on, and honestly… her voice is sweet, cheerful, and not at all hard to listen to. “I’m an art teacher, by the way. Teach middle, junior, and high school, and I tutor part time. I also paint and sell some of my stuff, but you know how it goes… starving artist and all that.”
No, I really don’t know how it goes. Never met an artist. Never been interested in art unless the quality of my tattoos counts.
There are several minutes of silence that seem awkward to me as we continue to work, but I bet Jane’s not fazed. She seems the type to take things in stride with an unfailing well of optimism to bolster herself.
When we get up most of the water, I place the towel I’d just wrung out onto the kitchen counter and decide to make myself scarce. “I’m going to head out—”
“So what’s your story?” she asks at the same time.
My body tightens as my walls go up. “No story. Just moved here seeking some solitude.”
Jane throws a wet towel in the sink with a splat and shakes her head. Her eyes are knowing when she says, “No. There’s a story there for sure.”
“Don’t know what to tell you,” I say dismissively as I grab my tool bag.
“Where you from originally?” she throws out.
The words come out involuntarily, and I cringe over my lack of control. “Maryland.”
“Did you always live there?”
“No.”
“Where else have you lived?” she pushes at me.
“All over,” I hedge.
“You’re sort of vague,” she points out.
“Exactly.”
“And taciturn.”
“Also true.”
“Yeah,” she says with a chuckle as her eyes sparkle with amusement. “There’s a story there. But don’t worry. I won’t prod at you too much. I respect secrets.”
I give a grunt of acknowledgment and nod my head. “Well, I got work to do at the cottage…”
“So there’s an art and music festival in town this weekend,” she says in an abrupt change of subject. I brace because I sense another one of her spontaneous attempts to go out with me. “You should come. I’ve got a booth there, and you can see some of my artwork.”
“Not really my thing,” I say, trying to sound gentle.
And why in the hell am I being gentle with her?
I’m not a gentle man.
I ease past Jane toward the front door, giving her a wide berth. I need some space from her.
“There’s going to be some great music too,” she calls after me. I don’t ease up on my strides, because, in the last twenty minutes or so, I’ve come to learn that Jane is a very tempting woman despite all of my senses screaming at me to stay away from her.
“No thanks,” I say loud enough that she can hear.
I’m at the door but still close enough I hear her sigh with something that borders between frustration and resignation. “Okay. Well, thanks again for helping me out.”
I stop right in the middle of the doorway, my hand on the knob, preparing to pull it shut behind me. Looking over my shoulder at her, I make myself smile at her. It takes great effort and feels forced on my face. I’m sure she sees that as well.
“Thanks for dinner last night,” I tell her. “It was really good.”
She beams those pearly whites back at me, and fuck it to hell… I see hope blossoming in her eyes, which are a stunning shade of meadow green. “I’m glad. I’ll make it again sometime for you.”
Fuck.
I turn away from her and start to pull the door closed, but I’m stopped when she says, “Oh… and Kyle? I’ll drop by sometime soon to get my baskets back from you.”
Yeah, I have to shut this shit down. I cannot have her getting attached to me. I can’t have her trying to worm her way into my life that’s built upon dreadful deeds and a litany of lies. I don’t know Jane at all, but I know she’s way too good to get mixed up with the likes of me. No matter how much I’m attracted to her—no matter how intrigued I am by the very light that radiates from her personality—I cannot go there.
Ever.
“I’ll leave them on my porch step when I get home,” I tell her pointedly with a dull voice. “You can get them at your convenience.”
And that totally worked. The smile slides right off her face and her eyes go flat. She gives me a slight nod and murmurs in complete resignation, “Okay, sure. That’s fine.”
I nod back at her, content I’ve put her off, and yet oddly dissatisfied at the same time. I’m completely miserable here in hiding and want nothing more than to get back to my old life, but I’ve just managed to cut out the one thing I find to be good right now… and that sort of seems stupid as fuck to me for some reason.
CHAPTER 6
Jane