Treasure on Lilac Lane (Jewell Cove 2)

Without breaking her gaze, the pressure on her hand tightened, squeezing, and then released.

“You just squeezed my hand.”

“Yup.”

“How?”

They kept turning on the floor. “I have a myoelectric hand. It means that electrical signals from my muscles trigger the movement.”

“That is so cool.” She felt her face heat. “I mean, it’s not cool that you lost your hand, Rick. Sorry. But that technology can do that…”

“I know what you mean. Fine motor skills aren’t so great, but I manage just fine. There are newer, more expensive types that have a lot better dexterity. It’s pretty amazing.”

“It must have been a big adjustment.”

He laughed then, but it was humorless. “The rehab was a pain in the ass. I wasn’t a very good patient.”

“I can imagine.”

“I was pretty bitter. I still am.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here, you know.” She bit down on her lip, suddenly wanting him to confide in her. She understood privacy, more so than some, and she didn’t make a practice of prying into someone else’s business. But she wanted to know Rick’s. Since when had that begun to matter?

Ever since she’d walked into his porch and discovered that there was much, much more to him than met the eye.

His arm pulled her closer so that she was nestled against his body. It felt good being close to him. She felt safe. Secure.

Josh might have been right after all. She’d promised that if anything happened in the coming weeks that she’d go to Bryce or Tom or Rick if she needed help. She could smell the slightly spicy scent of Rick’s cologne, feel the way he held her close but not too close, and she felt protected. She looked up to see Tom dancing with his new wife, while Bryce held his daughter Alice in his arms. Josh had taken to the floor with their mother.

She wasn’t alone.

She wouldn’t be alone again.

And for the first time since she’d heard the Greers were back in town, she didn’t feel so afraid.

* * *

Rick was relieved to finally let her go.

Her innocent questions hadn’t bothered him in the least. It was refreshing to have someone just ask rather than look at him sideways or get all embarrassed and blush. What he’d struggled with, though, was having her so close to him. Touching her skin and the silky fabric of her dress, the scent of her light perfume surrounding him, the soft sound of her voice and the sweetness of her smile.

Ten years ago, he’d thought she was pretty. Now she was beautiful. Jess had grown from a striking girl to a stunning woman. When she’d been younger, her eyes had gleamed with a spark of devilment and adventure. The same spark was still there, but it was tempered by wisdom and experience.

Rick didn’t know just what had happened to Jess while he’d been gone, but since he’d returned he found himself paying close attention to his best friend’s little sister.

He looked across the room. She was talking to her sister and mother and laughing at something they said. It struck him that no matter how often he saw her surrounded by family and friends, she held something back. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She had a great capacity for compassion, but not in all things. Like when he’d shown up to build her shelves and she’d thought he was hungover. There’d been no compassion or understanding then. Why?

Then his gaze traveled to the bar and he clenched his teeth. He swore he could smell the sharp, pungent scent of alcohol across the room. But he’d made a promise. He would not drink tonight. He could manage to scrape together enough willpower to get through this one last hour. Besides, he’d done so well so far. It had been hell at times. He’d bought himself a bottle of rye only to dump it down the sink before he could drink it. Been tempted to head over to The Rusty Fern for a beer just to break the silence in the empty house. But he hadn’t.

He hadn’t.

The bouquet and garter were tossed. Jess hung back, pushed forward into the group of single women but staying on the fringes and he could tell her smile was forced. Summer Arnold caught the bouquet, while Josh caught the garter—funny how the women seemed to lunge forward for the flowers while the men were more content to let the scra

p of elasticized lace come to them. Rick laughed at their antics but he was getting drier and drier and in need of either a drink or an exit.

When someone was jostled by his elbow, their cocktail splashed over their glass and landed on his fingers. The sharp scent of gin rose up and instinctively he put his fingers to his lips.

He had to get out of here. Right now. Jess would have to understand.