Full Contact. Tara Quinn Taylor

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      “They’ll be disappointed.”

      She didn’t think so.

      And she hoped so.

      “Do I offend you?”

      “No.” He fascinated her. In a distant sort of way. A train wreck sort of way.

      With both hands still on the handlebars of his motorcycle, Black Leather sighed then looked straight at her. “I’d really like a chance to sit and talk with you,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. Gentle. “I think I might be able to help.”

      No didn’t spring immediately to her lips, which unnerved Ellen a little bit. “How?”

      “I’m not sure.” He shrugged and she appreciated his honesty. “Obviously there are a lot of things about you, about your situation, I don’t know. I agreed to see you with only a minimal amount of information but I now think that was a mistake and a disservice to you.”

      “That’s not your concern.” He was a biker massage therapist. And not long for this town.

      “I think it is. Most particularly if I have inadvertently made the situation worse.”

      Two cars she recognized had driven past. Becca Parsons again. Ellen often passed the mayor during her run since Becca left work at the same time each day in order to have time in the pool with her kids before dinner. Ellen had been in high school when Becca had finally, after more than twenty years of failed attempts, carried a baby to term. The whole town had watched that pregnancy, but no one more than Ellen’s mother—best friends with Becca since grade school.

      The other car that passed was Keith Nielson’s, Bonnie’s husband. Josh would have been at Little Spirits, Bonnie’s day care, waiting for Ellen to pick him up. If he was in town…

      “I have to go.”

      “Can we set up a time to talk about what happened today?”

      He really seemed to want to help. Seemed to believe he had something to offer.

      Was she honestly ready to give up? To accept who she was, as she was? To be forever held hostage to a past she couldn’t change?

      She looked at Black Leather. She wasn’t afraid of him.

      “Do you ever braid your hair?” It was longer than hers. And absolutely none of her business. “Nope.”

      She wanted out of the cage her past had trapped her in. She wanted to be able to date. Marry again. She wanted her son to be able to hug her without having his arms wrenched away.

      She’d been through counseling—individual and group. She’d exhausted all of the conventional channels and, seven years post-attack, was still struggling to accept being touched. Shawna thought this man could help her.

      As a social worker, a counselor, Ellen knew that a huge part of the success—or failure—of Jay’s therapy rested with her. If she was going to do this, she had to be open to him. Completely. No matter how hard that might prove to be.

      Considering this afternoon in the clinic, she didn’t think she could be that open.

      But she knew something else. If she didn’t at least explore the possibility one more time—by speaking with him—she’d feel as though she’d given up on herself.

      “Can you meet me tomorrow morning? Around ten?” Her stepfather, David Marks, was expecting her to help with the church bulletin before that.

      “Yes. Where?”

      Ellen suggested the Valley Diner.

      “You want to be seen in the middle of downtown, sitting at a table with me?”

      “Yes, I think I do.”

      She wished she could explain to herself why that was.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      JAY MADE IT TO THE DINER a few minutes ahead of schedule the next morning and went in to use the restroom. By the time he’d returned, Ellen was already seated in the last booth, her back to the wall. He recognized her first by the ruler-straight set of her shoulders then by the distinctive natural blond hair that hung freely down her back.

      He knew even before he slid onto the bench opposite her that she wouldn’t be wearing any makeup. Nothing about Ellen was made-up.

      Hidden, maybe, but not made-up.

      “Did you order already?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.

      “No, I waited.”

      He picked up the menu, decided on the first thing he saw—a man-size stack of homemade pancakes—then returned the plastic-coated sheet to its place along the wall.

      Ellen watched him, her hands folded on the table.

      “Ellen?” The waitress, a middle-aged woman, approached, staring, not at the woman she’d addressed, but at him.

      “Hi, Nancy. How are the kids?”

      “Good. You know that Cameron starts at Montford this fall, right?”

      “Yeah. And Leah will be following next year, I’m sure.” Ellen ordered a diet soda, oatmeal and toast and waited while Jay asked for coffee, black, and his pancakes.

      “Have you eaten here yet?” Ellen asked as Nancy, pocketing her notepad, walked away.

      “Nope, this is my first time in.” Glancing around, he figured he could have described the place accurately without the visit. Hometown diners looked the same the world over.

      But as diners went, this one was one of the nicest. It was clean, of course, but the decor was…fresh-looking.

      And it fit right in with this family-based town.

      Jay focused on the woman he’d agreed to help, wondering about her. “Do you have siblings?”

      “Three.”

      “Younger or older?”

      “Younger. I’m the oldest.”

      “Are they all here in town?”

      “Yep. Shelley’s twenty-three, working toward her doctorate in music at Montford. She had her bachelor’s at twenty and finished the master’s program last year. Rebecca’s twenty-two and married. No kids yet. Tim’s just turning twenty. He’s at Montford, too, playing baseball. And his interest is definitely more on the field than in the classroom, though he’s planning to go to law school.”

      The woman was beautiful. He stared at her mouth, watching the way her lips moved as she talked. Her features were soft, almost innocent in their allure. Yet her eyes held secrets. And a sadness directly offset by the straightness of her spine.

      He liked sitting here with her. Wanted to be here.

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