More of You (Confessions of the Heart 1)

I nearly jumped through the roof.

“Phone, Mommy!” Bailey shouted so loud I would have heard her even if I had been upstairs.

“Thanks, Button,” I rushed, scrambling that direction, thankful for the distraction. My hands were shaking when I picked it up, not exactly sure what I was going to say when I saw the name on the caller ID.

My voice was a frail fumble as I pressed my phone to my ear. “Hey, Courtney.”

“Hey, I hadn’t heard from you this morning, and I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?”

How was I supposed to answer that?

Because I wasn’t okay.

I didn’t know if I was ever going to be.

“I’m doing the best that I can,” I answered.

Her worry was palpable, floating through the line in the slow breath she inhaled. Finally, she said, “I don’t like this . . . you bein’ there alone.”

With the heel of my hand pressed to my eye, I almost laughed, though there wasn’t a single thing funny about it.

The last thing I’d ever wanted was to be alone here, either.

Now . . . now I wasn’t. I was surrounded by the presence of the man I’d never wanted to see again, and somehow couldn’t help but find comfort in his return.

Oh, were those the most dangerous sort of thoughts I could ever entertain.

Banging struck up from outside, the walls shaking with the telltale sounds of a man at work.

It made something inside me tumble, old instincts right there, threatening to surface.

Courtney mistook my quietness for something else entirely. “I bet you didn’t sleep a wink last night, did you?”

Courtney instantly shifted into her take-charge demeanor. “That’s it. I’m gonna pack a bag and come stay with you two until Mack makes an arrest. It probably isn’t helping that Jace showed up in town. It’s a miracle you haven’t lost your mind. You need someone there with you.”

Oh, I had half lost my mind, all right.

My stomach in knots, and my heart doing these stuttered, scattered jumps.

Finally, I pulled myself from the stupor. “You aren’t goin’ to do anything of the sort. You have Felix. There is no way I’m going to ask you to leave behind your new boyfriend to come stay with me. That’s not right, and you know it.”

“It’s not like we’re livin’ together.”

My brow lifted. “You might as well be.”

“I do have to admit that I don’t mind the man spending the night. He’s ridiculous in bed. It shouldn’t even be legal, the things he does to me. He does this thing with his tongue—”

“La, la, la, la, la.”

I might as well have shoved my fingers in my ears like I used to do when we were thirteen. The woman had no filter, and if she’d been given one, she’d have long since ripped it off. No topic was ever off-limits with her.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t want all the details.”

“I don’t want all the details,” I deadpanned.

The girl had been giving me all the information I could do without for all my life. She was lucky I wasn’t scarred from some of the stories she’d told.

“Hey, I’m just tryin’ to give you the good stuff since you’ve been dealing with so much bad.”

“I think I can do without your good.”

More banging echoed from outside, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself from inching back to the window, pressing my palm to my forehead, and wondering if I had some sort of a fever.

The saw suddenly made a high-pitched squeal as it came to life, the blade spinning, screaming as the teeth tore through a piece of wood.

Like some kind of sick, twisted voyeur, I peered out, watching him. Head dipped down, Jace guided the piece of wood through, his attention rapt on the job he was doing.

Meticulous.

Careful.

“What’s that sound?” Courtney asked, so quickly I could almost see the lines twisting on her brow.

Crap.

This was so not goin’ to go over well. Hell, it wasn’t going over well with me.

The saw trailed off before it struck right back up again.

I still wasn’t saying anything, just staring out the window like a fool.

“Faith, are you there?”

“Yes,” I finally managed.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“Jace is here.” It tumbled out like a confession.

She sucked in a breath. Anger and mortification. “Tell me you still have that shotgun.”

“Courtney.” I couldn’t help but chastise her.

“What did your daddy tell you that thing was for? Intruders. And that man is an intruder.”

“He’s not any danger.”

“Really?” she challenged.

“Not in the way you mean.”

“No, Faith, he’s a danger in exactly the way I mean.”

My head dropped. “I know.” I breathed the words through the strain.

“What the hell is he doin’ there?” she hissed.

“Fixin’ my porch,” I hissed right back.

“Holy Mary,” she wheezed. “It’s worse than I thought.”

I groaned. “Tell me what to do.”

“Um . . . hello . . . that is a no-brainer, Faith. Kick him to the curb.”