The Closer You Come. Gena Showalter

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      “I know you.” Beck returned to subject one. “You prefer commitment. Need it. But ever since your release—”

      Speaking over him, Jase said, “The boy locked behind bars was not the man who emerged. I’ve changed.”

      “The core of you hasn’t.” Beck pegged him with a hard stare. “You’ve been settling for randoms, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know why I do it. Panties melt off whenever I enter a room, and it’d be criminal not to do something about it. But that’s not the reason you do it.”

      “I know why,” West said softly. “You don’t think you’re good enough. You don’t think you deserve better.”

      He pushed to his feet. “This is the last time I’m going to say it. Enough.” A familiar rage brewed, dark and hungry.

       Calm. Control.

      His friends only wanted the best for him. He knew that. Just as he knew they thought they owed him for letting him take the fall for them, not realizing they’d long ago paid their debt in full. And not just for the money and the house. They were the only visitors he’d had his entire time behind bars, showing up at least twice a week. They’d offered ears to listen and, as puss as this sounded, hearts to care. Not that he’d ever shared the worst of his experiences.

      They didn’t know he would never trust anyone else and would always assume the worst of everyone around him. That he would never stop looking over his shoulder, expecting to be attacked. No woman would ever be able to put up with that for long. If one even wanted to be with an ex-con.

      Brook Lynn was the one who deserved better.

      So was Daphne. Hell, so was Jessie Kay.

      Damn it! He’d come to Strawberry Valley desperate for a clean canvas, but all he’d done was paint it black.

      “I’m going for a walk,” he said. Have to get out of here. There was a pond deep in the heart of their land where the fish practically jumped into his hands. The little slice of tranquillity might be just what he needed.

      Beck glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s 2:00 a.m.”

      “I think I can handle the dark,” he said, trying for a dry tone. Deep down, he knew his words weren’t exactly true. There was darkness in his mind, in his soul, and he’d never handled them. Would he ever?

CHAPTER FIVE

      BROOK LYNN LIFTED her arms overhead, arched her back and extended her legs while pointing her toes. As she stretched, the heavy ache of slumber gradually receded from each of her limbs. Sunlight spilled over her, warming her. The seductive scent of masculine musk mixed with the pleasant fragrance of honey and oats enveloped her, fusing with the very fabric of her being. The softness of the sheet beneath her paired with the comforter above her made her feel as though she’d been swathed by clouds. It was, quite simply, heaven on earth. Something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. If ever.

      The only thing that would have made the moment better was a bowl of her French toast casserole, baked with layers of fresh bread, heavy cream, brown sugar and the pecans that fell from the tree shrouding her front porch.

      Her stomach rumbled, all get up and prepare this now.

      She blinked open her eyes. An unfamiliar—no, slightly familiar—setting greeted her. A single window was draped by navy blue curtains. Minimal furnishings: a bed, two nightstands and a dresser. The wood floor was scuffed. Realization struck, and she frowned. She’d been here once before—and it had not been an enjoyable experience.

      Realization struck a second time. This was Jase’s bedroom.

      She jolted upright, her heart a wild cascade against her ribs as she zeroed in on the damage she had caused here. The nightstand with a crack, nothing more looked ready to crumble. The “ugly” lamp was a porcelain beauty marred by a crater.

      The dark brown comforter on the bed—moved.

      Gasping, she scrambled back...falling off the edge of the bed and hitting the floor with a loud thump. She jumped to shaky legs, ready to defend herself from—

      “Jessie Kay?”

      A soft, sleepy moan registered, followed by a breathy sigh. Relief poured through Brook Lynn as her sister rolled to her side, soon returning to a sleep coma anyone suffering with exhaustion would envy.

      A quick scan proved the girl was unharmed and fully dressed, missing only her shoes. Brook Lynn was fully dressed and without shoes, as well, wearing the same T-shirt and shorts she’d worn last night. But though she searched, she found no sign of their footwear.

      Bits and pieces of memory teased the fringe of her mind. Searching bar after bar with West and Beck while Jase opted to guard the car. At some point she must have fallen asleep. She had a vague recollection of Jase carrying her to his bedroom. For a moment, she’d thought she was floating. Then she’d felt a strong heartbeat against her temple...steel-hard arms undergirding her...the most delicious heat wrapping around her.

      Why hadn’t Jase taken her and Jessie Kay home? To their home? And dang it, where was her cell phone? If she didn’t call Edna soon, there would be hell to pay. Who was she kidding? There was already hell to pay. The clock beside the bed proclaimed 10:03 in bold red numbers. Brook Lynn was seriously late. And if she lost that job...

      She stalked into the bathroom, took care of business and washed up quickly, brushing her teeth with paste on her index finger. It wasn’t ideal, but the only other option was using Jase’s toothbrush, and she would rather die than allow his mouth to come that close to hers, even by proxy.

      Her reflection revealed a bedraggled mess with rosy cheeks and eyes sparking wildly. With anticipation? Excitement? No, no. Of course not. More like frustration and annoyance.

      In the hallway, the scent of bacon and eggs saturated the air, causing her mouth to water and her stomach to rumble all over again. She hadn’t had a decent meal in... Crap, when was the last time she’d had a decent meal? There was rarely enough time to shop or cook, even though she loved to do both, so she usually snacked on bread and cheese at Two Farms.

      Won’t be able to do that anymore.

      Before she could work up another cry over the loss of a major source of income, the sound of banging registered. She followed the noise to the kitchen, where two plates piled high with food rested on the table. Somehow she found the strength to keep walking without snatching a piece of bacon—or twelve.

      Hinges creaked as she pushed her way outside. The temperature instantly rose...oh, if she had to take a guess, she’d say seven hundred degrees. Bright rays of sunlight burned her eyes.

      Squinting, she padded onto the cement. “Ow, ow, ow.” It burned, too! She jumped onto the soft grass, two black birds taking flight in front of her. She scanned the yard—and finally found the source of the banging. Jase, with a hammer. Shirtless Jase. Muscles honed from intense manual labor bulged as sweat glistened and trickled down tanned skin and more tattoos than she’d realized. One of his arms was fully sleeved, the colorful ink wrapping over his shoulder and covering his pectoral. On his other side, his rib cage and torso were etched СКАЧАТЬ