died,” Dee said, “and he fell apart, you were there for him.”
Jack opened his mouth but closed it again. What was he going to do, remind his mother in public that she had been the one to fall apart? That it’d been all he and his cousin Ben could do to keep the house and their lives together? The doctors had eventually been able to treat her depression, but her bouts of anxiety had never abated.
“No one else could console him,” Dee said to Leah. “Not Ben. Not me. No one.” She paused. “Only you, Leah.”
Admittedly, Jack had grieved and grieved hard. He’d been a teenager who’d lost his father unexpectedly, and then he’d grown up in the shadow of his dad’s legend.
But there were worse things.
And yet his mom was right about one thing. Leah had been there, no matter what she faced in her own home life. She’d found time to make them meals, do his homework, cover his ass however it had needed covering.
She’d done that for him. She’d been his rock.
“I really thought the two of you would go for it back then,” Dee said, and Leah sucked in a breath.
Jack did his best not to react because he wasn’t willing to admit that he’d thought the same. That he’d thought it up until the day Leah had walked away.
Always running.
“You’re right, Dee,” Leah said, her gaze on Jack. “The chemistry finally got us.”
“Did it?” Jack asked her softly.
“Yes.” There was a long, indefinable beat when something seemed to shimmer between them, and then suddenly Leah was a study of movement, hustling to put some space between them. “I was about to tell your mom that it’s not a big deal,” she said, very busy wiping down the other tables, way too busy to meet his gaze. “And that we’d like to keep things under wraps.”
“Under wraps?” Dee asked.
“Yes,” Leah said. “Because as you know, Lucky Harbor doesn’t keep its secrets very well. We’d rather no one knew yet.”
His mom looked so disappointed. “So this is…new?” she wanted to know. “This relationship between you?”
Leah did glance at Jack then, two spots of color on her cheeks as, unbelievably, she deferred the question to him. He crossed his arms and blessed her with his you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me expression.
“Um,” she said, blanching a little bit. “Sort of new, yeah. A little bit.”
Dee processed this. “I bet it happened at the music festival on the pier, right? I saw you two dancing that night. So romantic, so sweet.”
The festival had been a month ago. Jack remembered that he and Leah had shared one quick dance and then he’d been called into work. And if he’d enjoyed it a little too much, the way Leah’s skirt had twirled around her thighs, how she’d felt against him, he’d told himself he’d gotten caught up in the moment.
“Yes,” Leah said. “It happened at the music festival. We had late-night brownies at the café afterward, and that was that.”
“But Jack was called to work that night on a suspicious fire,” Dee said. “I remember because he called me from the station at midnight to make sure I got home okay.”
“Late, late -night brownies,” Leah corrected.
“Don’t you make your own brownies?” Dee asked.
“Once in a while I cheat,” Leah said, sounding a little strained.
No wonder. Lying was damn hard work.
Jack moved around the counter to face her. She was wearing jeans and a long halter top that had some flour on it.
He was six feet two, but they were still nearly nose to nose thanks to a pair of strappy, high-heeled sandals. How she worked in her seemingly endless supply of shoes he had no idea, but they were sexy as hell.
This was confusing too. When had she become sexy as hell? And why? They were friends. Nothing more. She’d made that evident a long time ago. “Why do you wear shoes like that to work?” he asked. “You’re going to break an ankle.”
“Aw,” Dee said, delighted.
He looked at her. “What?”
“You noticed her shoes!