Terri Reed - A Sheltering Love

She squared her shoulders. Somehow she’d manage. She always did with God’s help. She didn’t—wouldn’t—need anyone else.

“It’s really not as bad as it looks,” Nick said.

She turned to see him rising from the stool. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, revealing a black T-shirt stretched taut over wide shoulders and well-defined muscles. His boots squished through the grimy water on the kitchen linoleum as he approached.

His tanned face bore traces of the sooty smoke that burned in her lungs. That explained why she was breathless. From inhaling too much smoke.

He stopped next to her, his attention on the wall. “Mop up the water. Replace a few boards. Sand and paint. It’ll look good as new.”

She sighed. If only it were that easy. “Did I thank you for saving me?”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “You did.”

“Good. You should leave now.”

He widened his stance. “You trying to get rid of me?”

She blinked. “Yeah, I am.” She had to for her own sake. “This isn’t your problem and I’m not your responsibility,” she said, her tone harsh.

A flash of something—hurt, maybe?—made his eyes seem impossibly darker. “That’s what you really want?”

It wasn’t. She felt safe with him around. Liked having him around. Which was exactly why he had to go.

“Yes, it’s what I want.”

He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, tense and hard. His face became a mask of granite, the angles and planes unyielding. “And if I refuse?”

She swallowed and winced at the painful reminder of what had happened. She didn’t have the strength to physically make him leave and she didn’t know if she could find the strength again to ask him to leave. Not when all she really wanted was to have him hold her. To feel those strong arms around her. To have him tell her everything would be okay. To save her again if she needed it.

Weak.

“I can only hope you’ll be a gentleman.”

His mouth twisted into a harsh smile.

The front door to The Zone opened and Bob walked back in. He scowled as his gaze jumped from her to Nick and back. “You okay?”

Thankful for the distraction from this confrontation with Nick, she turned and smiled. “Yes, Bob,” she said patiently.

She knew Bob was trying to be helpful—to show his concern for her—but it felt more like he was trying to control her.

“Mr. Andrews.” He handed Nick’s license back to him. “When are you moving on?”

Nick leaned against the counter. “When I’m sure Claire’s safe.”

Bob’s scowl deepened. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“Excuse me.” Claire waved her hands to get their attention. “I’m right here, remember, and I don’t need either one of you to keep me safe.”

“Until we apprehend who did this, you sure do.” Bob gestured toward the burned wall. “We don’t know they won’t come back.”

“On that we agree,” Nick chimed, giving her a pointed look.

She blew out a sharp breath. She’d promised. “You might talk with a boy named Tyler. He could know something.”

Bob pinned her with an intent stare. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

A knock drew Claire’s attention. She left the two men and their meddling to open the front door. Surprised, she smiled at the brunette standing on the other side. “Hi, Lori. What—”

“I heard what happened. Are you okay? Rumor has it a handsome man rescued you.” Lori Pearson, who she knew from church, peered over Claire’s shoulder. “Is he in there? With Bob?” Lori’s smile brightened considerably. “You poor thing. Two men.”

Claire laughed with wry amusement. “It’s good to see you. Please, come in.” She stepped back so Lori could enter.

Lori paused. “You sure you’re okay?” Genuine concern shimmered in her dark green eyes.

Flustered, Claire smiled. “Yes. I’m fine.”

She didn’t know Lori well enough to confide in her. To tell her that she was all jumbled up inside from her feelings about Nick and the fire.

She and Lori had met at a church gathering over a year ago. Lori seemed to find everything amusing. Claire enjoyed Lori’s outgoing personality and positive view on life. Though at times Claire felt crowded by Lori.

Claire started to shut the door behind Lori when she heard her name. Peggy and Steve Jordan, followed by their three kids, thirteen-year-old Nathan, twelve-year-old Lisa and the youngest, at six, Matthew, hurried up the walkway.

Peggy came up the stairs looking fresh in rust-colored denims and a colorful peasant-style top with bell sleeves. Her waist-length chestnut hair was held back with a clip. She pulled Claire into a quick hug.

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard what happened.” She held Claire at arm’s length, inspecting her. “You’re not burned or anything?”

The display of affection pleased her. Claire stepped back. “No, I’m good.”

Steve patted her shoulder. “If you need anything at all, you let us know.” He was a big man with large muscles and a kind smile.

“Thank you.” Claire moved aside so they could enter.

Nathan, as tall as his mother, ducked past her without a word. Lisa gave her a shy smile, and Matthew stared at her for a moment with his round green eyes and sweet expression. “You have grass in your hair,” he declared before following his family.

Claire reached up and ran her fingers through her hair, mortified to imagine how she must look. She shut the door and took two steps when there was another knock. She quickly opened the door to find her aunt’s best friend, Sandy Wellington and her husband, Dave.

“Hello, Sandy, Dave.”

Sandy grasped her hand. Her short dark, graying hair curled becomingly to frame her round face. “Dear, we came to see that you’re all right.”

Dave stepped over the threshold. His silver hair was swept away from his forehead and he wore dark slacks and a blue oxford button-down shirt. “Sandy was beside herself when we heard the news.”

“I’m okay. Really.” She could see the doubt in Sandy’s blue eyes. Claire smiled reassuringly. “Please, come in.”

The Wellingtons were kind and thoughtful people. They had also been instrumental in helping Claire on the way to realizing her dream of The Zone.

She took a quick peek outside to make sure there weren’t any other visitors before shutting the door.

The women and children had congregated at the edge of the kitchen, while the men had ignored the water to inspect the damage. Peggy Jordan shooed her children away, instructing them to go busy themselves. The oldest two went to the Ping-Pong table while Matthew sat in a beanbag chair to play with the puppy.

Claire’s gaze landed on Nick. He leaned casually against the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen. Lori stood close by, smiling up at him. Something unfamiliar twisted in Claire’s chest.

She started forward, trying to discern what she felt. The corner of Nick’s mouth lifted at something Lori said. Claire’s steps faltered. She realized with sickening clarity that she was jealous.

Nick only half-listened to the animated brunette in the pink blouse. His attention kept straying to Claire. Every time someone new entered, she acted as if she were unaccustomed to people caring about her, worrying over her. Why in the world wouldn’t they? It was obvious these people were fond of her.

The Jordan family was friendly and he’d appreciated the way Steve had assessed him and then greeted him with a firm handshake. Mr. Wellington was honest in his wariness, had asked point-blank what his intentions were toward Claire, as if he were her father or favorite uncle.

He respected the man’s forthrightness and had answered truthfully that he was passing through and had no designs on Claire—only that he wanted to make sure she was safe before he headed out again. His honesty had earned him a quick nod of approval and a pleased smile from Mrs. Wellington before they moved on to look at the damage with Officer Bob, who acted the tour guide.