Angela cleared her throat.
Sheila’s eyes darted toward Kayla. “—makes me proud of our local firemen,” she finished. But her smile said what she hadn’t been able to say. And Angela completely understood. After Kayla had gone to sleep last night, Angela had sat up staring at the picture that featured Matt with a fire hose slung over one muscular shoulder. He was wearing nothing but a fireman’s hat and a pair of pants slung so low on his narrow hips that they revealed the line of hair descending from his navel—the line of hair she’d seen for herself last night, along with what the picture didn’t show.
The memory of his hands on her body, of his body joining perfectly with hers, played in her mind again.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to stem the tide of mortification, arousal and embarrassment rising to her face. When he’d brought her home, he’d asked her to call him after she got settled in the room, had murmured that he wanted to talk to her about what had happened between them. She’d mumbled something noncommittal, thanked him for the quilt and turned away before he could give her even a peck on the cheek. But she hadn’t been able to make herself dial his number. She felt too guilty for taking advantage of his ignorance where Kayla was concerned, knew it would make him hate her when he found out.
When he found out…
Now it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it? Because she’d already fallen in love with him and every member of his family. And if Kayla had the chance to be part of them, of what they had, Angela wouldn’t let anything stand in the way—least of all herself.
Instinctively, she reached across the table to take Kayla’s hand.
“What is it, Angie?” she asked, the question in her voice telling Angela she was squeezing a little too hard.
She had to do it, right? She had to tell for Kayla’s sake.
The lump in Angela’s throat made it difficult to speak. “Nothing. I just—I love you,” she said.
Kayla smiled sweetly as Sheila looked on. “I love you, too. I’m so glad you brought me here.”
A crushing pain made it difficult to breathe. Letting go, Angela tried to smile. “Me, too,” she said, then hid behind her menu because Sheila was watching her strangely, and she knew she’d start crying if she didn’t.
God, it’s going to be tough to give you up, she thought.
STEPHANIE’S HEAD POUNDED as the voices of the other people droned on and on. She was in a shelter, she realized slowly, lying on a mattress, gazing at the cavernous ceiling. She didn’t know how long she’d been there or who had brought her in. But she could tell they’d given her something to help her deal with the spasms that racked her body. She could also tell it wasn’t enough.
Getting up, she started for the door. She wanted to go back. Jaydog would fix her up. He always did. For a few tricks, he’d get her exactly what she needed.
A woman wearing nurse’s scrubs caught hold of her arm before she could reach freedom. “Miss, I don’t think you want to go out there. The help you need is right here.”
“You don’t have what I need,” she argued.
“It isn’t easy, but you can do it.”
“Let me go.” She tried to jerk away, but the woman’s grip only tightened.
“Listen to me,” the woman said, her voice low, harsh. “Is this the kind of life you want? Look at yourself!” She handed her a mirror, and Stephanie almost didn’t recognize the face that stared back at her. When had she gotten so gaunt and haggard? So old? And what had happened to her hair? Had someone set fire to it? Or had she set fire to it herself?
“I need some sleep,” she insisted. “I—I’ll get a haircut. I’m not as bad as you make me sound.”
“Do you want to live?” the woman asked.
Stephanie blinked at her in surprise. “What?”
“If you want to make it another year, give me the number of someone I can call.”
Stephanie took a second look at the stranger in the mirror. Who was that person? Where was she going? What had she done?
She had no answers. She had nothing.
“Who can I call?” the woman repeated, more forcefully.
Stephanie didn’t have Angela’s cell-phone number. Their relationship had become so rocky Angela had changed the number and wouldn’t give it to her. But Stephanie did remember the name of the place where Angela worked.
“WHAT’S WRONG?” Lewis asked, poking his head inside Matt’s office.
Matt yanked himself out of the lethargic stupor that seemed to swallow him whole every time he stopped moving, and shuffled some papers around. “Nothing, why?”
“You’re not yourself today.”
Angela hadn’t called him last night. She hadn’t even squeezed his hand or thrown him a quick smile when they’d parted. She’d made passionate love to him for about ten minutes, then…no real interaction at all. “Thanks,” she’d said as he’d dropped them off. “For everything.” And then she’d gone and he hadn’t heard from her since.
He shouldn’t have taken her into that bedroom. She probably thought he didn’t respect her. Or that he was only interested in what he could get from her while she was in town. Or…
Hell, he didn’t know. He’d never gotten so many mixed signals in his life. He was thoroughly confused.
“So how was the big gift exchange?”
Lewis was still standing in the doorway of his office.
Matt tried to rouse himself again. “Great. Fun. Grandma didn’t get her special eggnog, for which she’ll never forgive me. But other than that…” Other than that, it had definitely had its high points. Like the moment Angela had frantically stripped off his pants and greedily touched him everywhere, arching into him when he’d first covered her body with his.
She’d wanted to make love, too, hadn’t she? Because if that was no, how would he ever know yes?
“I ran into Ray a few minutes ago,” Lewis said.
“Oh, really? Where?” Matt could hear the flatness in his own voice, but Lewis didn’t comment on his lack of enthusiasm.
“At your parents’ store. I stopped by to pick up the necklace I bought for Peggy.”
“Peg’s going to have a nice Christmas.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.”
Lewis stepped into the room and leaned on the back of one of the chairs. “Anyway, Peg and I plan to invite Kayla to come to Reno with us tonight.”