Chapter 5
FIVE
Annie hummed a Christmas tune as she folded towels warm from the dryer. Dawn was beginning to brighten the sky. The freezing rain had come in overnight, just as Dwayne predicted. Crystals coated the yard and dripped from the trees. Thankfully, they hadn’t lost power.
Evan shuffled into the kitchen wearing pajamas, his hair rumpled and a pillow crease marking his cheek. He turned blurry eyes toward the coffee machine. “Please tell me there’s a fresh pot.”
“There is.” Annie smothered a laugh. Brooke and Evan had stayed on site, and her best friend had often complained about her husband’s grumpy morning attitude. “There’s creamer and sugar next to the cups on the counter.”
She hummed a new tune while folding another towel.
Evan leaned against the counter and downed half a cup of coffee. He eyed her over the rim. “Are you always this cheerful in the morning? Or does your good mood have something to do with Tate Atwood? I saw the two of you last night huddled together talking in the activity center.”
Annie’s cheeks heated. “Tate has nothing to do with it. I’m just feeling the holiday spirit. Don’t be such a grump.”
He harrumphed. The sound of Evan drumming a beat against the coffee mug echoed across the kitchen. Along with playing baseball, he’d been a percussionist with the band and was known for tapping out a tune on anything nearby.
“Last night was fun. Brooke did a great job organizing everything.” Annie gestured to the window, the early-morning light creeping across the yard. “The ice storm will prevent us from doing anything outside, but knowing Brooke, she’s still got a great lineup scheduled.”
He nodded. Hesitated.
Annie had been friends with Evan since the sandbox. “What is it?” She added a towel to her pile. “I can tell you have something to say.”
“Maybe it’s not my place, but I saw the way you were looking at Tate last night. It was high school all over again. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, and after what happened last time…after all you’ve been through recently with your husband’s passing…I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
The brotherly warning warmed her head. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s unnecessary. We’ve talked about what happened. He apologized; I accepted. We’re moving on as friends.”
Evan gave her a flat look. “Friends. Have you ever been able to be just friends with Tate?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Annie folded the last towel with more force than necessary.
This conversation was silly. Or so she wanted to believe.
But hadn’t she felt that familiar flare of attraction around Tate?
Over s’mores and hot cocoa, they’d slipped back into a comfortable conversation, and for the first time since losing her husband, Annie felt butterflies.
It wouldn’t go anywhere, but it was both unsettling and exciting to realize that part of her wasn’t gone forever.
That maybe…at some point…she would fall in love again. Maybe even get married.
It was what James would want for her. Annie’s former job as a police officer had put her in dangerous situations, and before getting married, she’d made James promise that if anything happened to her, he’d grieve and then move on. He’d made her swear the same.
It had never once occurred to her that she’d be the one keeping the promise.
But here she was. Widowed.
And sometimes…well, sometimes…she was lonely.
Evan was still watching her. Annie sighed. “Okay, I hear you. I’ve always had a soft spot for Tate. But you don’t need to worry. I’m not the naive girl I once was, and it’ll take more than a good conversation and some laughs to lower my guard.” She turned the tables. “I thought you liked Tate?”
“I do. I just…” He scraped a hand through his hair, making his bedhead worse.
“Brooke has this notion that we’re going to leave this weekend with the old crew back intact.
She gets along with everyone, so it’s hard for her to understand that there’s no going back to our elementary school days.
People have changed. And to be frank, most of them I’m not interested in having in my life again. ”
He stared down into his coffee, and Annie’s heart broke a little.
She and Evan rarely talked about high school.
Some things were too painful, and like her, Evan had often endured the popular kids’ bullying.
It was a strange thing. To have fond memories of someone from childhood, only to be terrorized by them when you got older.
“It was bad enough seeing them all at Seth’s funeral.
Crying and acting like they cared.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “Especially Kayla. Seth really cared about her, and she treated him terribly. She played him for a fool. Used him to make Preston jealous. Took every secret he ever trusted her with and handed it around. How could you treat someone like that?”
Annie had no answer. Kayla had been undeniably cruel. “What she did was wrong.”
“Yeah.” Evan shook his head as if pulling himself from some dark place, and pushed off from the counter. “I’d better get moving. Brooke’s gonna wonder where her coffee is.” He refilled his cup before pouring a second one. “Sorry if I overstepped, Annie.”
“You didn’t.” She appreciated that Evan was looking out for her. She was an only child, so he was the closest thing she had to a brother.
Annie finished folding her laundry. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave showed she was behind schedule.
The kitchen staff would arrive to cook breakfast soon, and she still had some prep work to do.
Balancing the stack of towels in her arms, unable to see around them, she hurried into the hallway from memory.
And slammed into a hard wall.
Annie yelped and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.
A pair of strong hands grasped her biceps.
She remained upright, but a couple of the towels tumbled from her stack, revealing none other than Tate Atwood.
He smiled down at her, that dimple in his left cheek winking. “Morning, speed racer.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake yet.
” Nerves jittered her insides. No one should look that good at seven in the morning.
Tate was fresh from the shower, his short hair combed and slightly damp.
He wore a soft flannel shirt and worn blue jeans.
The scent of his aftershave—sandalwood, classic and masculine—tickled her nose.
Annie wore a long-sleeved sweatshirt, but was still achingly aware of his warm hands on her arms.
A dangerous attraction that only seemed more potent after their conversation last night.
They’d chatted until nearly midnight. Not about anything special.
Tate had shared more stories about his Christmas holidays with his sister, a few funny tales about his cases and his fellow Texas Rangers.
She learned he was single. Annie had talked about running the summer camp and her plans for the upcoming year.
It’d been light. Easy. Familiar. And yet, underlying all of it had been a hum of attraction that’d always seemed to exist between her and Tate.
In high school, she’d thought it was one-sided until he asked her to prom.
Afterward, she’d considered herself a fool to believe that Tate had any romantic notions about her.
And then, last night, he’d come clean.
I was too much of a coward to tell them the truth. That I really liked you.
And she didn’t know why, but for some reason, knowing he’d felt the same way…that it hadn’t been all in her head…it’d healed something inside her that she hadn’t realized was still hurting.
“What are you doing up so early?” Annie asked, stepping back and forcing Tate to break his hold.
She was suddenly conscious of how she looked.
Hair in a messy bun, no makeup, a frumpy sweatshirt and faded black pants.
She’d wanted to finish a few chores before officially getting ready for the day. “You’re on vacation.”
“Tell my body that. After so many years of waking up at dawn, it’s ingrained now. Here, let me help you.” Tate scooped up the fallen towels. “Where are you headed?”
“Upstairs, but I can do it. Just add them to my pile.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee if you’re interested.”
“Very. Sure you don’t want help?”
“I’ve got it. Grab some coffee and make yourself at home.
I’ll be right back.” She hurried across the lobby and up the staircase.
Annie told herself it didn’t matter what she looked like.
The side of her face was still bruised from colliding with the fender of Kayla’s SUV last night.
A cute hairstyle and lip gloss wouldn’t help.
Still, a vain part of her wished she had it all together.
That Tate would see her and realize what he’d missed out on.
So far he’d only seen her at her worst. Once after being attacked, and now, in her ratty sweats.
She reached the hall closet and stacked the towels inside by size.
She closed the closet, and a light down the hall caught her eye.
Kayla’s bedroom door was cracked open. Strange.
Annie didn’t take Kayla for an early riser, and she hadn’t passed her on the stairs.
Had she forgotten to close her bedroom door all the way?
Tiptoeing past the other guest rooms, Annie reached Kayla’s door. She caught the handle, intending to shut it, but saw the bed was empty. Uneasiness settled in her stomach. The door swung open with a creak. “Kayla?”
The lamp on the nightstand was still on. Clothes exploded from a suitcase and littered the carpet. Enough perfume to stock a store lined the dresser. Her shattered cell phone and laptop bag had been tossed into an armchair. The bed hadn’t been slept in.
Annie crossed to the open bathroom door. Cosmetics scattered across the counter, dirty towels dropped on the floor. She touched the edge of the sink.
Dry. So was the shower.