was all she could think to say when, just like when she’d been a new bride watching her groom saunter into the house, Jake’s lopsided grin tumbled her heart.
“Something smells good,” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
“Corn dogs.”
“Yum. My favorite.”
Had he always been so tall? The room never used to feel cramped when he was in it. And why was she suddenly wishing she’d taken Kelly’s advice and at least made a quick batch of spaghetti? “Sorry I didn’t fix a more substantial meal. I’m basically running low on everything.”
“Who’s complaining?” he said, gazing around the comfortable room with what she hoped was appreciation.
They’d bought the once-nearly-condemned Queen Anne not long after their wedding because the payments had been cheaper than rent. The rambling home sat atop a forested hill overlooking Lonesome Lake. Over the years she’d restored the place to its former glory, and though she couldn’t fathom why, it meant a lot to her that Jake liked what she’d done.
Licking her lips, she said, “A lot’s changed around here since you left.”
“I’ll say.” He let loose with a low whistle. “It actually looks cozy instead of like the poorest frat house on campus. What happened to the cement-block bookshelves and Goldilocks—that old gold sofa we had to prop up with leftover bathroom tiles?”
“They died. They’re now at the city dump, resting in peace beside a lovely retired couple. You might know them. The Kenmores? Adorable pair of washer and dryers. Used to live over on Pecan Lane in a yellow ranch.”
Jake’s chuckle caught Candy off guard, filling her with velvety images of the past. Breakfasts and dinners shared upon a wobbly sawhorse table. Saturday night candlelit bubble baths, exchanging off-color jokes as to why the hot water pipes groaned. For a second, Candy’s world felt right again, the way it used to. Back in the days when if only she could make Jake laugh, everything would be okay.
A pang shot through her at the realization of just how not okay those old days had turned out to be.
Since the last thing she wanted Jake knowing was how topsy-turvy his presence made her feel, she played tour guide. “On the left, you’ll see my sort-of-new sofa. Note the soft floral chintz. Always a big hit during the occasional bridal shower I get wheedled into hosting. And to the right, we have a real, live bookshelf/entertainment unit—I’m still working on the entertainment part.”
“Nice,” Jake said with a slow nod. “But how do you see what’s on TV? It’s awfully small. I didn’t even know they made that size for home use.”
“Well, now you do. Besides, it suits me just fine since now that the house is done, my nights are usually spent reading or doing the shop’s books.”
“That’s all well and good, Candy, but if you want a big screen TV, all you have to do is—”
“Thank you, but I don’t want your money, Jake.”
“It’s our money.”
“You formed the current-day Galaxy Sports after our divorce.”
“Yeah, but in the divorce papers, it states quite clearly that you’re a half owner.”
“But I don’t want to be.”
“Tough. You are.”
“Argh!” she said, ducking her gaze from his intense dark one. “Ten years certainly hasn’t put a dent in your pride.”
They stood only three feet apart but, in that instant, they might as well have been on separate planets. What was it about him that after all this time still turned her legs to taffy? Part of her wanted nothing more than to drop the pretense of not-so-polite chitchat and get to the reasons for his sudden—not to mention ludicrous—proposal. But another part of her, the part fighting a bizarre desire to drag the man back into her life, to lock him up and throw away the key, felt that the more casual they kept this meeting, the better.
“I know this’ll sound strange,” he said, “but once I tell you why I’m here, you’ll see just how little pride I have left.”
“I’m all ears.” She mimed bunny ears at the sides of her head, wiggling her fingers in a feeble attempt to disguise a nervous giggle.
“Okay, well…” He sniffed, looked toward the kitchen. “Is that smoke? Jeez, Candy, from the looks of it, your whole damned kitchen’s on fire!”
A FEW MINUTES LATER Jake had extinguished supper, but a thick, not to mention, smelly, gray cloud still clung to the ceiling. On the scary meter, the oven flame-up had been nothing compared to the white-hot terror stuck in his throat at the mere possibility of Candy being in danger. Now that he knew she’d be okay, he felt even worse.
Because really, he had no business worrying about her.
For a minute there, he’d felt as though they were married again, as though she was still his responsibility.
“Well, that oughtta do it,” he said, setting the extinguisher on the counter before adding, in what he hoped was a carefree tone, “Good thing I carry that model in all of my stores. If I hadn’t been familiar with how it works, your kitchen might be toast.”
“Yeah,” Candy said from beside the sink. Already having opened the windows and turned on the fan, she now wielded the faucet’s spray attachment—just in case. “Guess I’d better start keeping a closer eye on those rascally corn dogs, huh?”
“Might be a good idea—especially when you set the oven on broil.”
“Oops. I thought I’d set it on three-fifty. Guess before you got here I was sort of wound up.”
A charming blush pinkened her cheeks, but it did little to quench his frustration with her for being so careless. Didn’t she know how much she meant to him?
Whoa, buddy. Shouldn’t that be how much she used to mean? Because now, a reunion with Candy only meant one thing: keeping Bonnie.
Leaning against the counter, he turned serious. “I’m afraid you’re going to need a new oven.”
“You think?”
He nodded and crossed to where she stood. Hands on her shoulders, in his best manly fireman voice, he said, “It’s okay, ma’am. Fire’s out. You can safely put down the hose.” Easily enough said, but the jolt zinging through his arms from just touching her made him think he was the one in danger from fire. The flames leaping from her!
He must not have been the only one affected by their touch. Candy not only popped the spray nozzle back into its hole, she scooted a good two feet down the counter.
In all the excitement, she’d earned a black smudge of courage across her left cheek. Years of watching out for her leaned him forward, where, with the pad of his thumb, he brushed away the soot.
“What’re you—” She tensed until she realized what he was doing.
“Sorry, you had some—”
“It’s okay.” Her dusky gaze darted to the floor, then back to him. “Thanks. For the cleanup job and for saving our—I mean, my house.”
“No problem.” Had he only imagined it, or was the Ice Queen starting to thaw? “Glad I was here to help.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Candy gave herself a mental thwack on the head. Yeah. Me, too? What was wrong with her? For a second there, she’d actually enjoyed his company.
Time for a reality check. And the lonely reality was that no matter how right Jake’s being back in their kitchen might feel, his presence was only temporary.
Which was good.
Because, really, she was far better off without him.
How