Page 50 of Dangerous December
“It must be hard sometimes.” Flustered by his silence, she stumbled on. “I mean, thinking about some of the bad things that must have happened. If you ever need to talk to anyone, I’m here.”
His gaze still lasered on hers, several seconds ticked by before he finally shook his head. “Thanks. But there’s no need.”
Yes, there is, if Frank and Olivia are right and you’re jumping at shadows.
What would it be like to be living in a nightmare part of the time—and never know when a flashback could strike?
But she couldn’t make him talk, and even if he did, what could she say except offer comforting words or bland, useless reassurances that things would get better?
Maybe they wouldn’t.
Maybe he would never really get over the raw experiences he’d had—experiences she couldn’t even imagine.
At the thought of the burden he was carrying in his heart, she wanted to go over to him and put her arms around him to give him comfort and support and...
She imagined herself wrapped in his powerful yet gentle embrace, feeling the beat of his heart when she leaned against his hard, muscled chest.
Feeling protected and loved and warm, the way she had a lifetime ago, before everything went wrong. But there was no point in foolish thoughts.
He had changed, and so had she. And there would be no going back.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I can’t believe we got this done,” Beth said with a grin. “We three should go on television as a home staging team, because we areamazing.”
“Only if we can get our mitts on a treasure trove of an attic.” Keeley laughed. “The wonderful furniture up there and those burly football players in the church youth group made it possible.”
“We sure couldn’t have carried it all.” Olivia studied the living room of the cottage with admiration. “That boarder of yours is a treasure, too. How did she make all of the curtains so fast?”
“Elana must’ve stayed up all night. I don’t think she even had a pattern, which impresses me to no end. I can’t even hem straight.”
Olivia gave the curtains another long look. “Elana works at the motel, right?”
“Part-time, and also at my store. She’s planning on taking business classes at the community college.”
“Good for her.”
At a light rap on the open front door, they all turned to find Dev there, with Frank at his side. “Is it safe to come in yet?”
Olivia laughed. “I want to fight you for the right to live here, but I don’t think my dogs and cats would fit. So you’re safe.”
He stepped inside, his dark hair ruffled by the brisk October wind, bringing in the sweet scent of the burning leaf pile Carl was tending in the yard.
He studied the heavy oak living room furniture, the brass lamps, and the painting of mallards in flight that now hung over the fireplace.
Beth’s traitorous heart kicked in an extra beat when he surveyed the room a second time, then grinned. “This is beautiful.”
“Take a look at the other rooms, too. We found a great bedroom set in your mother’s attic, along with a nice pecan table and set of chairs for the kitchen.”
Frank checked out the kitchen cupboards. “Looks like they even set you up with dishes and such. I’ll bet that was Reva’s doing.”
“It was indeed,” Keeley called out.
“What?” He leaned out of the kitchen, a hand cupped at his ear.
“Reva took care of all that.” Keeley tucked a strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear. “Most of the pieces were stored away in the attic. A few pots and pans were extras from the kitchen.”
Beth glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I left Elana to cover the bookstore for a couple hours, but I’d better get back.”
