Read Online Carolina Blues by Virginia Kantra - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Virginia Kantra
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selected partners of comparable attractiveness. At her best, Lauren was, well, interesting-looking. And right now, she was
not
at her best.
Be cool
. “Hi, Jack.”
Those black Italian eyes met hers. “Lauren.”
Save me, she thought, and then chided herself. He wasn’t here for her. “Jane’s in the back with the repairman. You can go out through the kitchen.”
He nodded once, his gaze sharp on her face, like he was waiting for something.
“She, um, she didn’t want to call you. But her landlord said she needed to get a police report so he could file an insurance claim.”
“Okay. Thanks.” But he didn’t move on. “You doing okay?”
His concern made her throat clog. She worked enough moisture into her mouth to swallow. “I’m fine.”
A smile touched his lips. “Because you look like you could use a cookie.”
Something inside her eased and bloomed into a smile.
His eyes warmed. “That’s my girl,” he murmured.
Her breath caught. Okay, he didn’t actually say that. She must have misheard him.
Thattagirl
, maybe?
He smiled again, a brief curve to that hard mouth, and walked away, leaving her hot and longing and bewildered.
“Crap,” Thalia said. “Are we out of ice?”
* * *
“I ’LL STAY.” L AUREN squeezed Jane’s hand. Despite the sweltering heat inside the bakery, Jane’s fingers felt cold. “At least until Thalia gets back with the ice.”
Jane’s fingers tightened once, convulsively, before she pulled away. “I’ll be fine. You’ve done enough already. I probably have to close for the rest of the day anyway.”
Lauren pushed back her hair with her wrist. “What about tomorrow?”
Jane sighed. “I don’t know. The temperature will drop enough overnight that I can get some baking done, but there’s no way I can decorate cakes in this heat. And it’s going to be miserable in the shop.”
It was miserable now.
“I’ll be here,” Lauren said staunchly.
“It will be a light day.” Jane pressed her trembling lips together. “If we open at all.”
“I can still help out,” Lauren said. Although she didn’t want to take Jane’s money if there weren’t going to be any customers. “Or just, you know, hang out. If you want company.”
If you need support
.
Jane met her gaze, gray eyes soft and grateful. “Thanks.”
They weren’t friends. But they could be. It had been a long time since Lauren had connected with anyone outside the bubble created by the bank standoff. With someone who needed something from her besides a sound bite or a book.
“No problem,” Lauren said warmly. And it wasn’t. She
wanted
to help. Whether that help would be welcome or not.
“Jane.” She hesitated, trying to figure out her approach. They weren’t therapist and client. And questioning your boss about her potentially vengeful ex was definitely not in the employee handbook. “Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
Jane’s gaze dropped to the counter. She moved a glass a quarter of an inch to one side. “No.”
She was lying
. But confronting her directly would only make her more defensive.
“I’m not judging. I want to help,” Lauren said honestly. Sometimes sharing the truth, even a small, personal truth, created trust between strangers. It had worked before with Ben.
Ben, who was in prison now, so maybe that hadn’t worked out so well for him.
Not a positive thought. Think positive.
Jane’s lips parted, as if she might actually speak. And then her gaze caught on Jack, entering silently from the kitchen, and her lashes swept down again.
“Thanks,” she said. “But I’m fine.”
The breakthrough moment—if that’s what it was—slipped away. Lauren bit her lip in frustration.
Jack prowled closer, his black eyes alert. “Everything okay here?”
Jane raised her chin. “Yes. I was just telling Lauren she should go home.”
His gaze switched to Lauren. “You need a lift?”
She tilted her head. “That depends. Do I have to
not
at her best.
Be cool
. “Hi, Jack.”
Those black Italian eyes met hers. “Lauren.”
Save me, she thought, and then chided herself. He wasn’t here for her. “Jane’s in the back with the repairman. You can go out through the kitchen.”
He nodded once, his gaze sharp on her face, like he was waiting for something.
“She, um, she didn’t want to call you. But her landlord said she needed to get a police report so he could file an insurance claim.”
“Okay. Thanks.” But he didn’t move on. “You doing okay?”
His concern made her throat clog. She worked enough moisture into her mouth to swallow. “I’m fine.”
A smile touched his lips. “Because you look like you could use a cookie.”
Something inside her eased and bloomed into a smile.
His eyes warmed. “That’s my girl,” he murmured.
Her breath caught. Okay, he didn’t actually say that. She must have misheard him.
Thattagirl
, maybe?
He smiled again, a brief curve to that hard mouth, and walked away, leaving her hot and longing and bewildered.
“Crap,” Thalia said. “Are we out of ice?”
* * *
“I ’LL STAY.” L AUREN squeezed Jane’s hand. Despite the sweltering heat inside the bakery, Jane’s fingers felt cold. “At least until Thalia gets back with the ice.”
Jane’s fingers tightened once, convulsively, before she pulled away. “I’ll be fine. You’ve done enough already. I probably have to close for the rest of the day anyway.”
Lauren pushed back her hair with her wrist. “What about tomorrow?”
Jane sighed. “I don’t know. The temperature will drop enough overnight that I can get some baking done, but there’s no way I can decorate cakes in this heat. And it’s going to be miserable in the shop.”
It was miserable now.
“I’ll be here,” Lauren said staunchly.
“It will be a light day.” Jane pressed her trembling lips together. “If we open at all.”
“I can still help out,” Lauren said. Although she didn’t want to take Jane’s money if there weren’t going to be any customers. “Or just, you know, hang out. If you want company.”
If you need support
.
Jane met her gaze, gray eyes soft and grateful. “Thanks.”
They weren’t friends. But they could be. It had been a long time since Lauren had connected with anyone outside the bubble created by the bank standoff. With someone who needed something from her besides a sound bite or a book.
“No problem,” Lauren said warmly. And it wasn’t. She
wanted
to help. Whether that help would be welcome or not.
“Jane.” She hesitated, trying to figure out her approach. They weren’t therapist and client. And questioning your boss about her potentially vengeful ex was definitely not in the employee handbook. “Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
Jane’s gaze dropped to the counter. She moved a glass a quarter of an inch to one side. “No.”
She was lying
. But confronting her directly would only make her more defensive.
“I’m not judging. I want to help,” Lauren said honestly. Sometimes sharing the truth, even a small, personal truth, created trust between strangers. It had worked before with Ben.
Ben, who was in prison now, so maybe that hadn’t worked out so well for him.
Not a positive thought. Think positive.
Jane’s lips parted, as if she might actually speak. And then her gaze caught on Jack, entering silently from the kitchen, and her lashes swept down again.
“Thanks,” she said. “But I’m fine.”
The breakthrough moment—if that’s what it was—slipped away. Lauren bit her lip in frustration.
Jack prowled closer, his black eyes alert. “Everything okay here?”
Jane raised her chin. “Yes. I was just telling Lauren she should go home.”
His gaze switched to Lauren. “You need a lift?”
She tilted her head. “That depends. Do I have to
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