Out of Eden. Beth Ciotta

like I’m coming out of my skin. I hate this.”

      So did Jack. Until he knew what was wrong, he couldn’t fix it. If he pressed too hard, too fast, she might bolt. Considering they’d been estranged for years, Jessie being here like this was a breakthrough. He didn’t want to screw it up. “How about some hot tea?”

      “How about something stronger?”

      Given his recent battle with booze, he hadn’t stocked the house with hard liquor. “All I’ve got is beer.”

      “I’ll take it.”

      As far as he knew, she never drank anything other than wine spritzers. Damn, he itched to press. What’s wrong? Instead he got her a beer and poured a glass of milk for his niece.

      Jessie paced and chugged. “I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice.”

      “That’s flattering,” he said while loading a plate with cookies.

      “Look. I know we’ve never been on great terms. As kids or adults,” she said in a tight, brittle voice. “But I…we…Madeline and me…need a place to spend the night.”

      He should have said okay. Plain and simple. But there was nothing simple about their relationship. And he’d be damned if he’d let her freeze him out in his own house. “Why? Did Frank show up? Does he want to move back in?”

      “No.”

      “Did he call? Threaten you?”

      “I haven’t talked to Frank in two weeks.”

      “He calls to speak with his daughter, right?”

      She didn’t answer.

      Jack looked over his shoulder. “You’re kidding.”

      She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Frank never wanted…Madeline was…”

      An accident? Unexpected? So what? Just when he thought his opinion of his brother-in-law couldn’t sink any lower. “You can stay here as long as you like, Jessie.”

      “I don’t like it at all,” she said, still pacing, still drinking. “But I can’t impose on friends and I can’t afford the Orchard House.”

      Jack blew over the personal jab and focused on the financial. “Are you telling me that fu—” He glanced toward the sound of cartoon voices and cheery music. “That Frank’s not supporting you?”

      “I don’t want his money. I don’t want anything to do with him or anything that belonged to him—including the house. We’ll be fine. Madeline and me. I just want…I need to make my own way. And I will. Starting tomorrow. I mean, later today.”

      Jack worked his jaw. She’d shut him out of her life for years. Avoided him like the plague since he’d returned home. He couldn’t help himself. He had to push. “What happened between fuck-off and showing up on my doorstep, Jessie? It had to be damned bad for you to come to me, in the middle of the night, no less.”

      “I don’t want to talk about it. I…I can’t.”

      He noted the crack in her voice, the trembling of her hands. “Okay.”

      “Please don’t grill me.”

      “Fine.”

      “Or think you have to save me.”

      “You want to make it on your own.”

      She stopped in her tracks. “You don’t think I can?”

      “Didn’t say that.”

      “Just because I didn’t finish college or devote my life to some noble cause…” She trailed off and looked for a place to ditch the beer. She looked embarrassed, upset and exhausted.

      “Why don’t we revisit this discussion after some shuteye?” Jack relieved her of the empty bottle, then grabbed the milk and cookies. “You keep Maddie company while I change my sheets.”

      “I wish you wouldn’t call her that. Nicknames are…I don’t know.”

      “Humanizing?”

      “Undignified.”

      “Jessie is undignified?”

      “My name is Jessica. Jessica Lynn.”

      “Sounds stuffy,” said Jack.

      “To you, maybe. But it’s my given name and I’m proud of it.”

      “Okay.”

      “So you’ll call me Jessica? And Madeline, Madeline?”

      “Probably not.”

      She blew out a frustrated breath. “Why do you have to be so headstrong?”

      He looked at her and smiled. “Runs in the family.”

      She opened her mouth, closed it. After a thoughtful pause, she changed the subject. “Why do you have to change your sheets?”

      “No furniture in the other two bedrooms yet,” he explained. “You and Maddie take my bed. I’ll take the couch.” Before she could argue, he slipped into the living room. His niece was fast asleep. So was Shy. They were curled up side by side—one hand, one paw on the stuffed bear.

      Jessie groaned. “I hope she doesn’t get attached to that dog.”

      Jack hoped the exact opposite.

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      KYLIE WOKE UP EXHAUSTED. Three hours of sleep will do that to you. It wasn’t even three restful hours. Bleary-eyed, she schlepped to the shower. Her mind still churned on the things that had plagued her the night before.

      She fretted over her upcoming appointment with Eden’s Historic Preservation Society, otherwise known as the HPS. She hated that she hadn’t been able to get that over with yesterday. Nope. They’d insisted she wait until their scheduled weekly meeting. Thank goodness that was today. The suspense, the delay, was killing her. Although, it wasn’t like her renovation was on hold. Travis had made tremendous, no, amazing progress on the interior. He’d worked tirelessly. And, although he hadn’t been keen on her helping to paint the walls, he did coach her in redecorating the chairs she already owned instead of purchasing new ones. She appreciated the cost-saving suggestion and his creative tips. Who knew a hardware guy could be so artsy? She also admired his energy. She’d pooped out around 6:00 p.m., plus she wanted to get home before dark. Travis had stayed on. He’d said he was in a groove. She suspected he was avoiding his lonely house.

      Kylie scratched shampoo through her hair, feeling a little lonely herself. She blamed the chief of police. Celibacy was a lot easier when you weren’t battling desire. Once she’d finally drifted off last night, she’d dreamed about Jack pinning her against a wall. Jack undressing her with his eyes, his hands. Jack touching her, kissing her.

      In McGraw’s Shoe Store.

      Her family’s place of business.

      She’d been squirming with thigh-quaking lust, begging the hunky lawman to boink her senseless when suddenly she’d spotted her dad. Not for real. But in the dream. Unfortunately it had been a lucid dream. So in addition to experiencing erotic thrills compliments of Jack, she also sensed Dewy McGraw’s shock and dismay. Kylie had spent her entire life trying to win her dad’s approval. Now he was gone and she was still proving a disappointment.

      She rinsed the herbal-scented suds from her hair, pondering the relevance of that weird dream. It had to run deeper than her dad frowning on public displays of sex.

      At least he hadn’t materialized in her second dream. Her mortification would’ve been off the charts. She’d gotten down and dirty with Jack in a jail cell. Handcuffs were involved. Just thinking about the things he’d done to her made Kylie ache.

      “Crushing on Jack is stupid,” she told herself as she cranked