rest back against.
“Are you sure you can handle this? I’ve got a big mess going on up there.”
“I think so.”
His fingers brushed the back of her neck as he lifted her hair. She shivered.
“Are you cold? Should I put more wood on the fire?”
Warm breath against her skin made her tingle all over. “No, I-I’m fine,” she murmured.
He lightly worked through her hair, not once pulling so it hurt. She closed her eyes, the motion, soothing. “Tell me something, Jack, did you ever like Christmas?”
He stopped mid-stroke. “Um, it’s not that I don’t like Christmas, I just don’t see the point in putting up decorations, or stuffing a turkey for just me and the dogs.”
Jenna shrugged. “That’s actually quite sad. I can’t imagine not at least having a Christmas tree. There’s something almost…magical about a decorated tree.”
Her hair, silky as a newborn pup’s slid through his fingers easily. Now tangle-free, he continued brushing it dry. “I guess I’ve never looked at it that way.”
The scent of floral shampoo and body wash lingered in the cabin. Jack hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the scent of a woman. She eased back closer and closer to him—her breathing grew slow and steady .
Sleeping?
He didn’t have the heart to wake her, and if he was honest with himself, quite enjoyed having her close. Gently, he tugged the pillow out from between them and eased her back to rest against his chest. Once he rearranged the blanket to cover her, he folded his hands at her waist and closed his eyes.
She’s the perfect fit…almost too perfect.
His feelings were growing for this woman, and if he was right, that worked both ways. She’d be going home soon. He was a fool to allow himself to fall in love, but he’d grown powerless to stop. Her presence stirred up memories he’d tucked away for quite some time now, the good parts—laughter, the joy in a simple conversation, self-worth that came from being appreciated, things he’d forgotten after Carly’s death.
Maybe Jenna would break his heart, but at least he’d have times like this to look back on during those long lonely nights in his foreseeable future.
Jack pressed his cheek against the side of her head, committing the scent and feel of her hair against his skin to memory. But most of all…the warmth of her body next to his.
Chapter Seven
“A car went through the guardrail…”
It’s Jenna.
The chief went on about road conditions, but Charles heard all he needed to hear. The tightness in his chest and the swell of emotions rising up in him made the conclusion, undeniable—Jenna, the girl he loved as if she were his own daughter, had been behind the wheel of the car that crashed through the guardrail.
“We haven’t positively matched the paint and chrome. It might not be hers.” Chief Swanson spoke from behind his cluttered desk.
“I hear you, Chief.” He bowed his head. “I know it’s her Jaguar. I don’t expect you to understand, but when you find a piece of your heart missing…” The vintage wooden chair creaked under the weight of him shifting.
“Have faith, my friend. We should have some answers soon.”
Just then, the door opened and an officer passed the chief an envelope. “The results are in.”
He tore it open, and read the paper.
Silence…spoke loud and clear . Charles pressed his face in his hands and drew in a ragged breath. I’m so sorry, Jenna. I should have tried harder to keep you from leaving.
A firm hand on his shoulder kept his emotions in check. He shook his head and straightened in his chair. “So, what happens now?” Charles stood and walked to the window. “Send out a search team?” Is there any chance you could be out there, kiddo?
Chief Swanson shook his head. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do right now.” He slapped the results down on his desk. “If she did go over the side, I’d say the chances of her surviving are pretty slim, and
“Are you sure you can handle this? I’ve got a big mess going on up there.”
“I think so.”
His fingers brushed the back of her neck as he lifted her hair. She shivered.
“Are you cold? Should I put more wood on the fire?”
Warm breath against her skin made her tingle all over. “No, I-I’m fine,” she murmured.
He lightly worked through her hair, not once pulling so it hurt. She closed her eyes, the motion, soothing. “Tell me something, Jack, did you ever like Christmas?”
He stopped mid-stroke. “Um, it’s not that I don’t like Christmas, I just don’t see the point in putting up decorations, or stuffing a turkey for just me and the dogs.”
Jenna shrugged. “That’s actually quite sad. I can’t imagine not at least having a Christmas tree. There’s something almost…magical about a decorated tree.”
Her hair, silky as a newborn pup’s slid through his fingers easily. Now tangle-free, he continued brushing it dry. “I guess I’ve never looked at it that way.”
The scent of floral shampoo and body wash lingered in the cabin. Jack hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the scent of a woman. She eased back closer and closer to him—her breathing grew slow and steady .
Sleeping?
He didn’t have the heart to wake her, and if he was honest with himself, quite enjoyed having her close. Gently, he tugged the pillow out from between them and eased her back to rest against his chest. Once he rearranged the blanket to cover her, he folded his hands at her waist and closed his eyes.
She’s the perfect fit…almost too perfect.
His feelings were growing for this woman, and if he was right, that worked both ways. She’d be going home soon. He was a fool to allow himself to fall in love, but he’d grown powerless to stop. Her presence stirred up memories he’d tucked away for quite some time now, the good parts—laughter, the joy in a simple conversation, self-worth that came from being appreciated, things he’d forgotten after Carly’s death.
Maybe Jenna would break his heart, but at least he’d have times like this to look back on during those long lonely nights in his foreseeable future.
Jack pressed his cheek against the side of her head, committing the scent and feel of her hair against his skin to memory. But most of all…the warmth of her body next to his.
Chapter Seven
“A car went through the guardrail…”
It’s Jenna.
The chief went on about road conditions, but Charles heard all he needed to hear. The tightness in his chest and the swell of emotions rising up in him made the conclusion, undeniable—Jenna, the girl he loved as if she were his own daughter, had been behind the wheel of the car that crashed through the guardrail.
“We haven’t positively matched the paint and chrome. It might not be hers.” Chief Swanson spoke from behind his cluttered desk.
“I hear you, Chief.” He bowed his head. “I know it’s her Jaguar. I don’t expect you to understand, but when you find a piece of your heart missing…” The vintage wooden chair creaked under the weight of him shifting.
“Have faith, my friend. We should have some answers soon.”
Just then, the door opened and an officer passed the chief an envelope. “The results are in.”
He tore it open, and read the paper.
Silence…spoke loud and clear . Charles pressed his face in his hands and drew in a ragged breath. I’m so sorry, Jenna. I should have tried harder to keep you from leaving.
A firm hand on his shoulder kept his emotions in check. He shook his head and straightened in his chair. “So, what happens now?” Charles stood and walked to the window. “Send out a search team?” Is there any chance you could be out there, kiddo?
Chief Swanson shook his head. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do right now.” He slapped the results down on his desk. “If she did go over the side, I’d say the chances of her surviving are pretty slim, and
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