Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding) - By Sydney Somers Page 0,88
his hands down her back beneath the water, or that he held her tight, warning her not to slip, or that he used her T-shirt to carefully dry her off since she hadn’t planned this part of the evening at all.
A date at the rink had seemed like a fun idea, even though she’d glimpsed the apprehension that crept into his face when they turned in to the arena parking lot. She’d set a goal of showing him that he could still have fun on the ice, but hadn’t anticipated how much of a good time they’d have.
And she certainly hadn’t anticipated what had happened in the locker room. Running from him had been just a game, one that became so much more than that when he’d stood opposite her looking so boyish and confident and devastatingly sexy.
And he’d be leaving soon.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why had she let this happen?
Jackson slid his hand along her cheek, tipping her face up to meet a slow, aching kiss. It was impossible not to kiss him back, or to pretend every exquisite pass of his mouth didn’t set her on fire. If he sensed she was thinking too hard again, he didn’t say anything.
By the time they’d dressed and gathered their skates, she wondered if she would be better off making an excuse to keep him from staying with her tonight. Maybe she’d be smart to make a clean break before another night in his arms made it even harder to let go.
On the drive home she tried to work up the nerve to tell him he couldn’t spend the night, but couldn’t make the words leave her mouth. She wasn’t even sure she wanted them to.
In the end, the decision was taken out of her hands. They pulled up the driveway and Hayley immediately noticed the front door was open. She hadn’t left it unlocked, let alone open, before picking Jackson up.
A light down the hall had been left on—deliberately, was Hayley’s guess—so there would be no missing the disaster waiting for her inside.
The house had been trashed.
Furniture was turned over. Pillows and cushions torn apart. Streaks of red paint ran down the walls in the hallway. Gouges had been made in the wood floor.
“Don’t touch anything,” she advised, keeping both her heart rate and her anger in check that her home, her grandparents’ home, had been so completely violated.
Digging her phone out of her pocket, she called it in to the station as she made her way through the house. Jackson stood in the kitchen doorway. Beyond him, she could see where a wall had been kicked in and a hammer had been taken to the cupboard doors, denting them and breaking off hinges in other places.
The damage had been contained to the downstairs only. Maybe whoever was responsible had heard the truck coming down the drive and bolted before finishing the job, or maybe they’d grown bored with making their point.
Jackson gestured to the door that frequently slammed shut. Dozens of hammer and kick marks covered it. The door had held up, though, despite the abuse it had taken. “I think whoever did this didn’t like your nan’s ghost slamming doors on him.”
By Sunday morning the damage looked even worse. Jackson had refused to let her clean any of it up last night. Once they’d made sure nothing had been left behind to identify the culprit, he’d dragged her upstairs to bed.
He’d coaxed her under the covers, holding her until the tension began to drain away, promising they’d get everything fixed up in no time. She wasn’t even sure that he understood he was making promises he couldn’t keep.
As soon as she opened her eyes, Hayley had gone to see her grandfather. He needed to hear about the break-in from her and not some gossip hound who masqueraded as a compassionate candy striper at the hospital.
She’d only been allowed to peek in on him. Another bad night, according to Trudy, and the nurse’s expression when she looked over the last vitals recorded on his chart confirmed it had been much worse than usual.
Spirits dragging, she returned to the house, armed with enough cleaning stuff to scrub down an entire arena. A huge pile of garbage had already been started out front, and she smiled when she saw Cody and Brent carrying more outside as she climbed out of the truck.
More of the hockey team was already inside, going to work, with Kyle directing most of their efforts.