“Hiding out?”
Jane closed her eyes at the sound of his rumbling, deep voice, and she reached out to clutch at the edge of the table. This was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid, and yet here he was, standing right behind her.
Opening her eyes, she whirled around to face him, a smile pasted on her face. “I’m hungry. I was looking for a snack.”
“Looks like you found plenty.” Chris approached the table and stood next to her, his arm brushing against hers. She took a step sideways, arousal knocking into her stomach like a swift, hard punch. Just like that, her body reacted. And just like that, she wanted him. Wanted him to touch her, to kiss her, to tell her everything was going to be all right.
God, she was weak when it came to this man. So weak it scared her.
“Take your pick,” she offered, her voice shaky. She cleared her throat, hoping he didn’t notice.
Daring to look up at him, she saw the intense glow in his golden eyes as he studied her, and she knew he hadn’t missed a beat. “I think you know what I want.”
She slowly backed away, afraid of the temptation after hearing him say those words. He reached for her, clasped her upper arm with long, firm fingers, and she stumbled, nearly falling into him.
“Are you all right?” His brows drew down in concern. He was too close—way too close.
She wrenched free from his grasp and took a step back, then another one. “I’m fine.”
“Forget I said that, Jane. I’m not here to make you uncomfortable.” He grabbed a couple of tortilla chips and dipped one in salsa, then ate it.
“Then why are you here?” She sounded accusatory, but she couldn’t help it. It felt almost planned, his showing up to her family’s dinner.
“Mac invited me. He knew I had nowhere to go and the time off. He didn’t want me to spend Thanksgiving alone. I probably would’ve ended up at the station.”
“What do you mean you have nowhere to go?”
His expression darkened, and his eyes shuttered closed. Shutting her out. “I have no family close by. I’m a transplant, remember?”
“You don’t go see them for the holiday?”
Chris shrugged. “My mom lives in Portland. She’s busy.”
“And your dad?”
“Is dead.”
“Oh.” Remorse filled her for prying. It was none of her business. She felt as if she’d rubbed a sore spot. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.” He smiled but his gaze remained dark. “I was an only child. I don’t come from a big family like yours.”
“When I was little, my biggest dream was to be an only child. A few of my friends had no brothers or sisters, and they loved coming over to play at my house. But I always wanted to go over to theirs. I envied the quiet.” She’d go to sleep at night wishing she could wake up just once in her own bedroom, with no other siblings to deal with, her parents’ attention solely on her.
Jane had always felt lost in the shuffle, fourth out of five, the second girl and never a troublemaker. Mac had been the precious baby, Mindy had been the favored, dependable child. Patrick the responsible older brother and Cameron, her other brother, was the maverick.
And then there was Jane. Poor plain Jane. That’s what they’d called her in elementary school.
“How about now? Would you want to get rid of them?” Chris asked.
“No.” Jane shook her head, thinking of how they’d supported her right after the accident, when she’d been in the medical-induced coma and unable to take care of her children, take care of anything. They’d been there for her every step of the way, helping her parents, helping her, giving her so much. “I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“I envy you that,” Chris admitted quietly, and she wanted to ask him more questions. Why was his mother too busy to see him? When did his dad die and how? Was his relationship with his mother rocky? She couldn’t imagine having a bad relationship with her parents. Her mother drove her crazy, yes, but she loved her. She loved her father, too.
“It looks like Mac has adopted you,” she said, wanting to avoid the heavy stuff. All of that would only make her fall for him even more, and she didn’t want to do that.
She couldn’t.
Chris smiled. “Your brother is a good guy, a good friend.”
“He is a good guy,” Jane agreed. And he’d always been one to take in strays. As a child, he’d brought home endless injured animals or lost pets, begging their parents to allow them to stay. It looked as if Mac had carried the habit into adulthood.
“Jane.” Christian took a step closer and she couldn’t move, nerves making her stomach flutter, her legs waver. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable by being here. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should—forget what happened between us before and move forward. Consider each other a friend and that’s it.”
She blinked, her eyes actually watery, and she turned away, afraid she might start to cry. “You’re right. It’s probably best.” She leaned over the table and brushed a few stray crumbs into her palm, then walked over to the makeshift garbage can Mindy had set up and dumped them into it. “I’m sure I’m not ready for something like this.”
“Right. Something like this.” His echo of her words sounded hollow, empty.
