CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN HE WOKE UP the next morning he was disoriented. He was lying in a bed that was too small for his large frame, and he had a woman wrapped around him. Of course, he knew immediately which woman it was. It couldn’t be anyone else. Even in the fog of sleep, he wasn’t confused about Hayley’s identity.
She smelled like sunshine and wildflowers. Or maybe she just smelled like soap and skin and only reminded him of sunshine and wildflowers, because they were innocent things. New things. The kinds of things that could never be corrupted by the world around them.
The kinds of things not even he could wreck.
She was that kind of beautiful.
But the other reason he was certain it was Hayley was that there was no other woman he would have fallen asleep with. It was far too intimate a thing, sharing a bed with someone when you weren’t angling for an orgasm. He had never seen the point of it. It was basically the same as sharing a toothbrush, and he wasn’t interested in that, either.
He looked at Hayley, curled up at his side, her brown hair falling across her face, her soft lips parted, her breathing easy and deep. The feeling carved out in his chest was a strange one.
Hell, lying there in the early morning, sharing a toothbrush with Hayley didn’t even seem so insane.
He sat up, shaking off the last cobwebs of sleep and extricating himself from Hayley’s hold. He groaned when her fingertips brushed the lower part of his stomach, grazing his insistent morning erection. He had half a mind to wake her up the best way he knew how.
But the longer the realization of what had happened last night sat with him, the more eager he was to put some distance between them.
He could get some coffee, get his head on straight and come back fully clothed. Then maybe the two of them could prepare for the workday.
He needed to compartmentalize. He had forgotten that yesterday. He had let himself get annoyed about something that never should have bothered him. Had allowed old hurts to sink in when he shouldn’t give a damn whether or not Hayley wanted to hold his hand when they walked down the street. She wasn’t his girlfriend. And all the words that had passed between them in the apartment, all the anger that had been rattling around inside him, seemed strange now. Like it had all happened to somebody else. The morning had brought clarity, and it was much needed.
He hunted around the room, collecting his clothes and tugging them on quickly, then he walked over to the window, drew back the curtains and tried to get a sense of what time it was. She didn’t have a clock in her room. He wondered if she just looked at her phone.
The sky was pink, so it had to be nearing six. He really needed to get home and take care of the horses. He didn’t want to mess up their routine. But he would come back. Or maybe Hayley would just come to his place on time.
Then he cursed, realizing he had left his car at the other end of Main Street. He walked back to the living room, pulled on his boots and headed out the door, down the stairs. His vision was blurry, and he was in desperate need of caffeine. There were two doors in the hallway, and he reached for the one closest to him.
And nearly ran right into Cassie Caldwell as he walked into The Grind.
The morning sounds of the coffee shop filled his ears, the intense smell of the roast assaulting him in the best way.
But Cassie was staring at him, wide-eyed, as were the ten people sitting inside the dining room. One of whom happened to be Pastor John Thompson.
Jonathan froze, mumbled something about coming in through the back door, and then walked up to the counter. He was going to act like there was nothing remarkable about where he had just come from. Was going to do his very best to look like there was nothing at all strange about him coming through what he now realized was a private entrance used only by the tenant upstairs. It didn’t escape his notice that the pastor was eyeballing him closely. And so was Cassie. Really, so was everybody. Damn small town.
Now, he could see why Hayley had been so vigilant yesterday.
If only he could go back and be vigilant in his door choice.
“Black coffee,” he said, “two shots of espresso.”
Cassie’s gaze turned hard. “I know.”
“I came through the wrong door,” he said.
She walked over to the espresso machine, wrapped a damp cloth around the wand that steamed the milk and twisted it, a puff of steam coming out as she jerked the cloth up and down roughly, her eyes never leaving his. “Uh-huh.”
“I did.”
“And it’s just a coincidence that my tenant happens to live upstairs. My tenant who works for you.” She said that part softly, and he was sure nobody else in the room heard it.
“That’s right,” he said. “Just a coincidence.”
Suddenly, the door to the coffee shop opened again, and Hayley appeared, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, her hair wild, like she had just rolled out of bed.
Her eyes widened when she saw her father. Then she looked over at the counter and her eyes widened even further when she saw Jonathan.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice hard. “Fancy meeting you here before work.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m just gonna go get ready.”
She turned around and walked back out of the coffee shop, as quickly as she had come in. So much for being casual. If he hadn’t already given it away, he was pretty sure Hayley’s scampering had.
“You were saying?” Cassie said, her tone brittle.
“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning in. “Is she your sister?”
“No.”
“Best friend?”
“No.”
“Is she your daughter? Because I have a feeling I’m about to catch hell from the reverend here in a few minutes, but I’m not really sure why I’m catching it from you.”
“Because I know her. I know all about you. I am friends with your sister, and I know enough through her.”
“Undoubtedly all about my great personal sacrifice and sparkling personality,” he said.
Cassie’s expression softened. “Rebecca loves you. But she’s also realistic about the fact that you aren’t a love-and-commitment kind of guy. Also, I do believe Ms. Hayley Thompson is younger than your sister.”
“And last I checked, I wasn’t committing any crimes. I will just take the coffee. You can keep the lecture.”
He was not going to get chased out of the coffee shop, no matter how many people looked at him. No matter how much Cassie lectured him.
He was not the poor kid he’d once been. He was more than just a boy who had been abandoned by both parents. He was a damned boon to the town. His business brought in good money. He brought in good money. He wasn’t going to be treated like dirt beneath anybody’s shoe.
Maybe Hayley was too good for him, but she was sleeping with him. She wanted him. So it wasn’t really up to anybody to say that she shouldn’t.
When he turned around after Cassie gave him his coffee, the pastor stood up at his table and began to make his way over to Jonathan.
“Hello. Jonathan, right?” the older man said, his voice shot through with the same kind of steel that Jonathan often heard in Hayley’s voice. Clearly, she got her strength from her father. It was also clear to Jonathan that he was not being spoken to by a pastor at the moment. But by a fairly angry dad.
“Pastor John,” Jonathan said by way of greeting.
“Why don’t you join me for a cup of coffee?”
Not exactly the words Jonathan had expected, all things considered. He could sense the tension in the room, sense the tension coming off Hayley’s father.
People were doing their very best to watch, without appearing to do so. Any hope Jonathan had retained that they were oblivious to what it meant that he had come down from the upstairs apartment was dashed by just how fascinated they all were. And by the steady intent on Pastor John’s face.
If the old man wanted to sit him down and humiliate him in front of the town, wanted to talk about how Jonathan wasn’t fit to lick the dust off Hayley’s boots, Jonathan wouldn’t be surprised. Hell, he welcomed it. It was true, after all.
“I think I will,” Jonathan said, following the other man back to his table.
He took a seat, his hand curled tightly around his coffee cup.
“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met,” John said, leaning back in his chair.
“No,” Jonathan said, “we wouldn’t have. I don’t recall darkening the door of the church in my lifetime. Unless it was to repair something.”
Let him know just what kind of man Jonathan was. That’s where this was headed, anyway. Jonathan had never met a woman’s parents before. He had never been in a relationship that was serious enough to do so. And this wasn’t serious, either. But because of this damn small town and Hayley’s role in it, he was being forced into a position he had never wanted to be in.
“I see,” the pastor said. “Hayley has been working for you for the past couple of weeks, I believe.”
He was cutting right to the chase now. To Jonathan’s connection to Hayley, which was undeniable. “Yes.”
“I’ve been very protective of Hayley. Possibly overprotective. But when my son, Ace, went out on his own, he didn’t find much but heartbreak. I transferred some of my fear of that happening again onto Hayley, to an unfair degree. So I kept her close. I encouraged her to keep working at the church. To live at home for as long as possible. You have a sister, don’t you?”
Damn this man and his ironclad memory for detail. “I didn’t think it was Christian to gossip. But I can see that you’ve certainly heard your share about me.”
“I do know a little something about you, yes. My son is married to one of Nathan West’s children, as I’m sure you know. And your sister has a connection to that family, as well.”
Jonathan gritted his teeth. “Yes. My sister is with Gage. Though only God knows why. Maybe you could ask Him.”
“Matters of the heart are rarely straightforward. Whether it’s in the case of romantic love, or the love you feel for your children, or your sister. It’s a big emotion. And it is scary at times. Not always the most rational. What you feel about Rebecca being with Gage I suppose is similar to the concerns I have about Hayley.”
“That she’s with a bastard who doesn’t deserve her?”
The pastor didn’t even flinch. “That she’s involved deeply enough that she could be hurt. And if we’re going to speak plainly, I suppose the question I could ask you is whether or not you would think any man was good enough for Rebecca, or if you would be concerned—no matter who it was—that he wouldn’t handle her with the care you would want.”
Jonathan didn’t have much to say about that. Only because he was trying to be angry. Trying to take offense at the fact that the older man was ques tioning him. Trying to connect this conversation to what he knew to be true—everybody looked at him and saw someone who wasn’t worthy. He certainly didn’t deserve kindness from this man, not at all. Didn’t deserve for him to sit here and try to forge some kind of connection.
Jonathan had taken advantage of Hayley. Regardless of her level of experience, she was his employee. Even if she had been with a hundred men, what he had done would be problematic. But, as far as he was concerned, the problem was compounded by the fact that Hayley had been innocent.
So he waited. He waited for that hammer to fall. For the accusations to fly.
But they didn’t come. So he figured he might try to create a few.
“I’m sure there’s a certain type of man you would prefer your daughter be with. But it’s definitely not the guy with the bad reputation you’d want stumbling out of her apartment early in the morning.”
John nodded slowly, and Jonathan thought—with a certain amount of triumph—that he saw anger flicker briefly in the older man’s eyes.
“I told you already that I feel very protective of her,” Pastor John said. “But I wonder if, by protecting her as much as I did, I shielded her too effectively from the reality of life. I don’t want her to get hurt.” He let out a long, slow breath. “But that is not within my control.”
“Is this the part where you ask me about my intentions toward your daughter? Because I highly doubt we’re ever going to sit around a dinner table and try to make small talk. This isn’t that sort of thing.” With those words, Jonathan effectively told Hayley’s father that all he was doing was fooling around with her. And that wasn’t strictly true. Also, he hated himself a little bit for pretending it was.
For saying that sort of thing to her father when he knew it would embarrass her.
But in a way, it would be a mercy. She cared what people in town thought about her. She cared about her father’s opinion. And this conversation would make it so much easier for her to let Jonathan go when the time came.
She was always going to let you go. She has traveling to do, places to see. You were her dirty detour along the way. You’re the one who needs distance. You’re the one who needs to find a way to make it easier.
He ignored that voice, ignored the tightening in his chest.
“Why isn’t it that sort of thing?” The question, issued from Hayley’s father, his tone firm but steady, reached something deep inside Jonathan, twisted it, cracked it.
It couldn’t be anything more than temporary. Because of him. Because of what he was. Who he was. That should be obvious. It would have been even more obvious if Pastor John had simply sat down and started hurling recriminations. About how Jonathan was beneath the man’s pure, innocent daughter. About why a formerly impoverished man from the wrong side of the tracks could never be good enough for a woman like her.
It didn’t matter that he had money now. He was the same person he had been born to be. The same boy who had been beaten by his father, abandoned by his mother. All that was still in him. And no custom home, no amount of money in his bank account, was ever going to fix it.
If John Thompson wouldn’t look at him and see that, if he wouldn’t shout it from across a crowded coffee shop so the whole town would hear, then Jonathan was going to have to make it clear.
“Because it’s not something I do,” he returned, his voice hard. “I’m in for temporary. That’s all I’ve got.”
“Well,” John said, “that’s a pretty neat lie you’ve been telling yourself, son. But the fact of the matter is, it’s only the most you’re willing to give, not the most you have the ability to give.”
“And you’re saying you want me to dig down deep and find it inside myself to be with your daughter forever? Something tells me that probably wouldn’t be an ideal situation as far as you’re concerned.”
“That’s between you and Hayley. I have my own personal feelings about it, to be sure. No father wants to believe that his daughter is being used. But if I believe that, then it means I don’t see anything good in you, and that isn’t true. Everybody knows how you took care of your sister. Whatever you think the people in this town believe about you, they do know that. I can’t say you haven’t been mistreated by the people here, and it grieves me to think about it.”
He shook his head, and Jonathan was forced to believe the older man was being genuine. He didn’t quite know what to do with that fact, but he saw the same honesty shining from John that he often saw in Hayley’s eyes. An emotional honesty Jonathan had limited experience with.
The older man continued. “You think you don’t have the capacity for love? When you’ve already mentioned your concern for Rebecca a couple of times in this conversation? When the past decade and a half of your life was devoted to caring for her? It’s no secret how hard you’ve worked. I may never have formally met you until this moment, but I know about you, Jonathan Bear, and what I know isn’t the reputation you seem to think you have.”
“Well, regardless of my reputation, you should be concerned about Hayley’s. When I came through that door this morning, it was unintentional. But it’s important to Hayley that nobody realizes what’s happening between us. So the longer I sit here talking to you, the more risk there is of exposing her to unnecessary chatter. And that’s not what I want. So,” he said, “out of respect for keeping it a secret, like Hayley wants—”
“That’s not what I want.”