Chapter Four

Jenna

All day long I’d been thinking about Nate, and all day long I’d been telling myself to stop. But I couldn’t get his chiseled jaw and taut muscles out of my mind. He was so hot that his image had been seared into my mind.

And he was funny, too. I pictured him falling down the fireman’s pole and found myself laughing again. A smile had been on my face ever since I’d looked over my shoulder to watch Nate leave the preschool that morning and found him staring back at me.

I walked toward the main street with a dreamy smile on my face. Hadn’t Nate’s smile taken my breath away? Hadn’t his eyes been the exact color of the sky on the most beautiful summer day? Hadn’t his body given Adonis something to aspire to? I thought about the way I had managed to detect the rise and fall of a perfect six-pack beneath his blue shirt and felt my heart flutter.

Stop it, Jenna.

I was going to stop daydreaming and drooling. It had gotten me in trouble before. I was on the street opposite the fire station now, and glanced across to see if Nate was there. If I saw him again, it would undo all the progress I’d made pushing his face out of my fantasies.

I didn’t see him.

I was shocked at myself and my traitorous sex drive. I’d been through so much with Victor it seemed unthinkable that I could be letting those kinds of thoughts into my head again. I stood still a moment, facing the fire station, and thought back to all the times I’d stood opposite the police station, waiting for Victor to finish his shift. Nearly every night he would see me standing there waiting for him, and he’d take another twenty minutes to laugh and joke with his buddies. He never looked pleased to see me or rushed over. His day wasn’t any better when I was there.

That’s the problem with the hero type, I told myself. They’re self-centered and arrogant. That’s why they choose jobs where they get to save the damsel in distress. The last thing I needed in my life was another jerk with a savior complex making me feel bad for asking him to lower his voice because he’d been out saving lives all day. What did I matter? How could I ever compare to such a hero? That’s how Victor always made me feel. Secondary. Unimportant. Small.

I sighed at the memory but perked up when I realized I was nearly at Carla’s coffee shop. I pushed my way inside and inhaled the scent of muffins and fresh coffee grounds. Carla was behind the counter serving. As soon as she spotted me, she finished up with her customer and passed the next person over to her assistant while she made us both a latte. Moments later, we were sitting again at Carla’s favorite spot by the window.

“So?” Carla leaned forward eagerly. “Tell me how it went!”

“It went as well as possible, I suppose. I tripped over the playmat the second I walked in the door and tore my pantyhose. The kids thought it was hilarious, but their parents pretended they didn’t notice. Mrs. Gatsby tried to give me a cookie.”

“Oh, I love Mrs. Gatsby! She’s such a sweetheart. She comes in with her granddaughter on Sundays sometimes and always leaves spare change in the tip jar.”

“I told her about my course, and she was so excited for me. She still had all her study notes if I wanted to borrow them. I didn’t have the heart to tell her things have probably changed since the seventies.”

Carla laughed. “Bless her. And what about the parents? Did they treat you nicely?”

“Oh yeah, the parents were great. A couple were a bit over-attached to their kids. Usually, you have to peel the toddler off the parents, but today I had a couple go the other way!”

“Was it Lucy Bennett? She’s a helicopter parent, for sure. She comes in here with her son, he asks for a cupcake, and she makes him get fruit. What a killjoy. Then she opens the packet for him and hands him the grapes one at a time, and watches him like he’s incapable of chewing without her. It’s a lot of effort for a snack. Don’t even get me started on her daughter. She makes the poor girl wear pigtails, and she’s already fourteen.”

I giggled. “It might have been her!”

“Did the kids give you any trouble?”

“Oh no,” I smiled brightly. “Kids’ antics have never bothered me. I know some people can’t handle their tantrums, but I’ve always found them too funny to get annoyed. They’re a cute bunch of toddlers. Nothing I can’t manage.”

Carla made a face. “Rather you than me. I hate kids.”

“Really?”

“Well, hate is a strong word.” Carla took a sip of her latte and leaned forward on her elbows. “I have a strong distaste for children. They’re sticky and needy. I don’t have a bit of maternal instinct.”

“I’ve always wanted kids,” I told her wistfully. “I adore them. My sister has two. I used to spoil them rotten.”

“They sound cute. It must be tough moving far away from them.”

“It is. I miss their little faces and even their arguments. I miss my Mom and Dad, too.”

“Are you regretting your decision?”

“No.” My answer sounded weak and I decided to try again. “There’s a great opportunity here, right? It was the right move.”

“Couldn’t you have stayed in Pennsylvania?”

“Pennsylvania had nothing left for me.”

I could tell from the way Carla looked at me that she knew there was more to the story and was burning to ask, but she held her tongue and smiled warmly at me instead. “You’ll do just fine here. It’s a great town. Great people. Great neighbors.” She jerked her head towards the fire station and gave me a joking wink. “Great view.”

“Best view in town.”

“Are you coming around to my way of thinking?”

“Maybe! I’m shocked at myself.”

“You’re a hot-blooded woman. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Carla grinned at me. “Speaking of which, were there any hot men at the preschool today? Jason Hasting got divorced a few months back, and he’s not bad at all. In fact, there’s a few single fathers floating around Brayford right now. Anyone catch your eye?”

I smiled. “Maybe one.” I set down my cup, rested my chin on my hand and looked hopefully over at the fire station, my eyes glazing over for a moment.

Carla howled with laughter. “Let me guess. Was Nate dropping off Harriet today?”

I flushed red. “What makes you say that?”

“Girl, you look like you’re in heat.” She held up a hand to stop my protest. “I don’t blame you! He’s gorgeous. Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened. He just dropped Harriet off, that’s all.”

“But he got you all fired up in the process? He’s good at doing that.”

“I’m not supposed to be looking at men right now.”

“Says who?”

“I’ve got other stuff going on in my life.”

“Pfft!” Carla scoffed. “You look pretty set up to me. Nice job, nice apartment. Seems like a man is what’s missing.”

“Trust me, I’ve had my fill of men. I just want to take a break for a while and focus on myself.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, honey. I just think you’re mad to pass up a fine man like that.”

“Who says he’s interested in me?”

“How couldn’t he be! You’re gorgeous, and there aren’t that many young, single women around here anymore. All the people we used to hang out with have paired off and settled down.”

I laughed. “So, I’d get him by default, is that it?”

“I’m just saying that the odds are in your favor.”

“Well, thanks. But I’m still not interested.”

“Was the last guy really so bad that he’s put you off men for life?”

I looked down at my coffee cup. “I need some time to get over it.”

Carla looked out across at the station, as though she was picturing Nate there. “You gotta admit he’s cute.”

I grinned. “Well, duh.”

“I’ve been begging them to make a calendar for years. You know, for charity. Nate would make a fine Mister July.”

“That’s a calendar I would pay good money for.”

We looked at each other and laughed.

“Honestly, Jenna, he’s single and one of the best guys I know.”

“How long did you say you guys had known each other, again?”

“Since high school.” Carla smiled at the memory. “He was always popular. On the football team. Classic jock. There was a running joke that we would always find him under the bleachers after five. A different cheerleader every week.”

“He’s a player, then?”

“Was.” Carla corrected me, finishing her latte and looking back over her shoulder to look at the remaining baked goods on display. I had no idea how she maintained such a perfect figure with so much temptation around her all day. She turned back to me. “He definitely played the field in his teens, but that all changed when he met Marie.”

“His wife?”

“That’s right. They were great together.”

“Were they together a long time?”

“Eight years, I think.”

“That’s a lifetime.”

“How long were you with your ex? The one who’s turned you off men?”

“Four years too long. I should have ended things long ago.”

Carla smiled sympathetically. “A charming man always tends to make good judgment go out the window. Trust me, I’ve dated my share of jerks. Thank God for Sam.”

Our conversation moved onto other things, but my mind fixed on Victor. Of all the mistakes I’d made in life, he was the biggest. We’d met when I was twenty-five. He was my first boyfriend, and that’s why it took me so long to catch onto the fact that Victor was a complete and utter asshole.

It had all been exciting and fresh when he’d first looked my way. I’d been a wallflower my whole life, and suddenly this gorgeous guy was giving me the time of day, and he was so adorable at first. I was over the moon to have a guy on my arm I could show off.

In the early days of our relationship, I let him get away with being a jerk because I’d waited so long to meet anybody. I would risk never meeting anyone again if I walked away. As we got older, I let him get away with things because we’d been together for a long time, and it seemed like a lot to throw away. I believed he didn’t mean the terrible things he said, and I thought eventually he would grow up.

He never changed. Not for the better, at least. Over the next couple of years, I became a complete doormat for him. Week by week, he took me for granted and started taking advantage of me.

The possessiveness and jealousy started, followed by violence. Everything happened gradually. I’d let one small thing slide, and then another, and then suddenly I was with a man who could treat me however he wanted because he knew I’d never stand up for myself. Part of walking away had been finding a way to do things on my own. To be strong, alone.

I was supposed to be forgetting men. And yet Nate was on my mind. Every time I blinked, his image was there. That confident, dazzling smile flashing my way. His eyes shamelessly tracing my thigh.

I felt myself blush as I remembered showing Nate the rip in my pantyhose. Could I really pretend that I hadn’t hoped his eyes would light up? What was wrong with me? I was a woman finding her own path. I was supposed to be a professional looking after Nate’s kid. And yet, I wish I could go back to this morning, let myself stare at him, and raise my skirt to watch him look at me.