Pieces of Broken Time (13 page)

“He’s been living here for that long?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“Yes, he insisted on moving there. His father and I had our doubts, you know. We weren’t sure he was fit enough to be on his own, considering his injuries, but Blake has never been one to be deterred once he sets his mind. I worry about him. He’s not very cooperative with the therapy, and that woman, Katrina, didn’t help matters at all. If I ever see her again, I’ll happily give her a piece of my mind. Humph!”

“I’m sorry.
Katrina
?”

“Oh, my. I’ve said more than I should. It’s been nice talking to you, Jennifer. Please ask my son to give his mother a call once he gets in.” She laughed. “We’re going to visit soon. I would love if we could meet.”

“That would be nice, Mrs. Connor. I’ll give Blake the message.” Jennifer was surprised to hear the words as they came out of her mouth, but something about Blake’s mother put her at ease. She was easy to talk to, and better yet, she offered up so much about Blake, making any prying on Jennifer’s part completely unnecessary.

Jennifer pondered the new information about Blake. Were his injuries connected to Trent’s death? What about the medal his mother had mentioned? If he had been living in Lancaster for almost a year . . .

All this time he’s been keeping his promise to Trent.

A wave of guilt washed over her.

Jennifer had just poured her second cup of coffee when she heard the front door open and close.

Drew bounded toward the living room, his eager bark filling the entire house.

Blake walked into the kitchen. He wore a white long-sleeve cotton T-shirt, jeans, a camouflage beanie, and a grim expression on his face.

Last night’s kiss popped into Jennifer’s mind, and she tried to push the thoughts away. Plastering a smile on her face, she rose from her chair to get a cup for him.

“Sit down. I want to talk to you.” His mouth tightened into a straight line while he waited for her. “I swung by the precinct on my way home and spoke with Officer Cortez. He still hasn’t ID’d the burglar, and he wants me to tell you it’s not safe for you to return to your place until you’re able to protect yourself.”

Jennifer sighed. “I can’t possibly put you out longer. I can get a room at the motel—”

“Will you stop with that already? You’re here, and this is where you’ll stay until the cops say it’s safe for you to go back to your house. Look at the way you hobble around. You can barely do for yourself. With that bum foot, you can’t drive, which means no groceries, no work, nothing. You really don’t have much option.” His tone infuriated her, so superior, but his arguments made a lot of sense, even if she didn’t want to hear them.

Jennifer closed her eyes. She was going to be at Blake’s mercy for several more days. There was no way around it. She wasn’t sure if that was what really bothered her, or if it was the fact he had the power to make her respond.

“If you’re worried about staying longer because I might kiss you again, you can rest easy. That was a mistake, and it won’t happen again.”

Her mouth dropped open for a moment before she snapped it shut and stared at him in disgust.

“It’s settled then. Now, if you’ll give me the keys to your house, I’ll get some more clothes for you. I’ll bring your briefcase and your laptop, too, so you can work.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

“My laptop and briefcase are in the car,” she said.

“Where are your car keys?”

Oh, you condescending as
s
!

“What’s your problem, Blake?” she asked.

“I don’t have a problem.” He walked out of the room, leaving her seething in frustration.

Jennifer rose from the chair and hobbled to follow him. She found him sitting on the sofa in the living room. “If you want me to stay here for a few more days, you have to make some major attitude adjustments. You’re not exactly good company.”

“Don’t worry about my manners. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way. Now, get your keys so I can pick up your things. If you have any other items you want me to bring, now’s the time to tell me.”

“You’re an impossible man,” Jennifer said, and moved out of the living room with as much dignity as she could muster. She stayed in the bedroom, refusing to go out and face Blake until she was certain she could control her temper.

Obnoxious and irritating and acting like I haven’t been taking care of myself since . . .

He makes a pretty darn good argument.

Yeah, okay, maybe, but his approach is too bossy. Who does he think he is?

Trent’s best friend?

That doesn’t mean he gets to run my life and order me around.

A few hours later, hunger forced an end to her mental debate, and she decided to come out of the bedroom.

Jennifer found Blake on the sofa, staring at the television. He didn’t even look up when she walked by.

Drew trotted behind her.

Might as well make myself handy.

She smiled and rubbed the dog’s ears, unable to hold on to her anger when he nuzzled her hand. “Let’s see what we can rustle up for lunch, Drew. I’m sure your master is hungry by now.” She opened the freezer. Except for ice trays, there was nothing but cold air blasting her in the face. “Does he even eat?” she asked the dog.

When his head tilted sideways, she giggled.

“Yes, I do.”

Jennifer gasped, whipping around to face the door.

“I just haven’t gotten the chance to pick up some stuff. If you’re hungry, I’m calling for pizza. Write down what you want from the store, and I’ll pick them up when I swing by your house this afternoon,” Blake said. His mouth was still set in a grim line, but his tone lacked the sting it had held earlier.

Her stomach answered first with a growl loud enough for Blake to hear. She blushed but sighed in relief when he grinned. “Pizza sounds good to me.”

He walked toward the phone and picked up the receiver. “What do you want on it?”

“Hawaiian sounds good right now, but I’m okay if you want something else.” She sat on the chair and studied him.

The right side of his face seemed to have escaped injury. Every visible inch of skin was smooth and healthy looking. The left side, however, was another thing. Raised scars and shiny skin were still healing. She knew how painful her own minor burns had been in the past, and the thought made her heart lurch at the vision of his suffering.

At that same moment, Blake glanced in her direction and caught her watching. His expression immediately soured. He turned around and finished his pizza order, sounding angry.

Blake slammed the phone down and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving her at a loss.

What the . . .

His mood swings were giving her whiplash. If she hadn’t known his kind and easygoing manner before, she never would have believed it. His temper was enough to make her dream of escape. What a pity.

She decided the best way to improve their relationship for the time being was to give him what he wanted. She started the grocery list, as well as a list of the things she needed from her place.

She had no idea what the man liked or if he even ate, despite what he’d said. She could make the usual meatloaf, pasta, and chicken salad that Trent had loved so much. Recalling the picture she had of him with Trent, Blake had lost a tremendous amount of weight. He wasn’t thin, but the man could use ten more pounds.

After finishing both lists, Jennifer found Blake sitting outside on the front porch. She took a deep, steady breath.

Try harder, girl. It’s only fair.

“Here is the key to my house, and I need this prescription filled,” she said, settling down next to him on one of the porch chairs. She saw a glint of amusement flicker across his face when he took the key.

His mouth twitched into something resembling a smile.

“Oh! Your mother called. She wanted me to tell you that she’s expecting you to call her when you get back. I forgot to mention it right away.”

He appeared startled. “You spoke with her?”

“Yes, I answered thinking it might be Officer Cortez.”

“What else did she say?”

Jennifer decided to tell him the truth. “Your mom wants to meet me. She said they’ll be dropping by soon.”

Blake slapped his forehead, leaned back against his seat, and didn’t say another word.

When the pizza arrived, they spent the entire time eating in silence.

Well, no conversation is better than biting each other’s head off, I suppos
e.

Chapter 11

Jennifer hadn’t expected to oversleep again. She wasn’t sure what it was about being under this roof that made her sleep longer than usual. She was typically an early riser and could count on one hand the number of times she woke later than six.

It has to be the meds.

Her immediate thoughts turned to Blake. True to his words, he had come back from her place with all the things she needed. He hadn’t said anything apart from good night when he’d retreated to the other room, leaving her alone in the quiet house.

She sat up, and pain radiated from her injured foot. The doctor hadn’t been joking when he’d warned her that healing would take longer than she wanted. Gingerly planting her good foot on the wooden floor, she pushed her body off the bed and hopped to the bathroom.

She was limping out of the bathroom when she heard dishes clattering. It sounded as though Blake had beaten her to the cooking duties this morning. The scent of bacon drifted into the hallway, while the aroma of coffee invited her to join him. She placed most of her weight on the good foot and hopped toward the kitchen.

Blake looked up and his lips turned into a grim line when their eyes met. He was wearing a navy cotton T-shirt that covered an incongruous looking vest and dark jeans.

Swallowing the cheerful greeting, she braced herself for an onslaught.

“What the hell are you doing walking around without your crutches?” he asked, striding to her side in a few quick steps. Without a word, he pulled her off her feet and carried her to the waiting chair.

Here we go.

“Good morning to you, too. And I’m not walking on it.” She felt like a child.

A smile and a hello really too much to ask for?

“You’re an adult and shouldn’t need to be reminded what’s good for you and what isn’t,” he said, before he returned his attention to the stove.

“I know what my body is capable of doing, so don’t worry about me,” she answered.

Blake pivoted and threw her a dagger glare, which she returned in defiance.

“Then use that brain of yours.”

She seethed but decided it wasn’t worth the argument. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Blake’s shoulder muscles tensed and his nostrils flared, but he didn’t answer.

Aha! Stand up for myself, and he backs down. Hello, weak spot.

The silence was disconcerting, but again, better than getting into another disagreement. Jennifer took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Eat everything. I swear, you’re like a stick. You need some meat on you.” He deposited the plate filled with bacon, eggs, and toast as well as a steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

“I’m not thin.”

“Whatever. Just eat.”

“What about you?” she asked, eyeing the food on the plate, and her stomach grumbled in anticipation.

“I’m going out.” He didn’t even look at her. Instead, he grabbed the keys, whistled for the dog, and walked out the door before she could think of a reply.

Fuming, she turned to the food and stuffed her face while she plotted ways not just out of this house but out of his life as well.

I’m better off on my own.

There was more going on with this man than what she saw on the surface. Anger, resentment, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She had known him to be an incredible friend to Trent and fun to be around. He had been a pleasant man the little time she’d been around him with Trent. So what had turned him into this bitter person? Was it the war and death he’d seen? If he was that broken, then she wasn’t equipped to fix him. This shattered man was beyond help.

After the dishes were done, she went back to the bedroom and made several phone calls. Her first was to Mr. Smith, her elderly neighbor and friend of Aunt Debbie’s.

While she listened to the ringing, she glanced around Blake’s room and the pile of magazines caught her attention again. The all-too-male reading material made her blush as she pictured Blake smothering her body with kisses. She had never thought of herself as a prude, but her imagination had been getting the best of her.

Not good.

“Hello?” Mr. Smith’s baritone was so comfortably familiar and reminded her of home.

“Hi, it’s Jennifer. I’m sure you heard about the break-in by now.”

“Child, I was so worried. I came by yesterday morning to check on you. How are you?”

“I’m sorry. I forgot to call you right away. I’m all right. I had to go to the ER to get stitched up, but I’m okay. I’m staying at a friend’s house until I can get the house fixed.”