Pictured her turning to smile at him in that big, soft bed.
He shook his head. Jesus. A week ago he’d been trying to figure out how to tell Decker and Ma he might want out, but having Jess here—seeing Whisper Creek through her eyes—was wreaking havoc with that plan.
And now, after one kiss, he had her waking up and cooking breakfast with his shirt on. But how could he help it? Getting a taste of her lips after waiting so, so long to do so was like giving a starving man his first bite of food in ten days.
He smiled at the memory of this morning, then frowned a little. Ever since he’d left the stable, something had been niggling at him. As much as the kiss had been its own sort of long-awaited magic, something else brewed under the surface.
Because although the sweet tang of honey from her morning mug of tea was the taste that stayed with him hours later, he’d also sensed something else, and it had him all off-kilter. Had him scared and angry at the same time.
He’d tasted fear. Just a glimmer, and it had faded, but it was still there.
Whatever had hurt her—whoever had hurt her—was still taking up space in her head.
He looked around the room, pictured it filled with muted colors and Native American artwork and pottery. Pictured music playing in one corner—the mystical kind he could picture her dancing to. Pictured mounds of soft pillows and blankets.
Pictured peace.
He wanted to give her that. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t know what he was even trying to help her recover from, but he knew he wanted her to walk into this space, close the door, and feel—safe.
He picked up a hammer and glanced one more time at the plans Decker’d just stamped his approval on. No time like the present to get started.
—
“Jess?” Hayley snapped her fingers. “Jess?” She came over to sit next to her on the couch. “Jeez, Jess. You’re as white as a sheet.”
Jess clamped her lips together. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tell Hayley the truth.
“Jess. Hey.” Hayley turned to face her. She pointed to the envelope Jess hadn’t quite managed to hide, and then set the other one next to it. “I have a feeling that this is none of my business, but minding my own business isn’t one of my best skills. What the hell is going on here?”
Jess took a breath, let it out. Took another, let it out. She clamped her hands together so Hayley couldn’t see the shaking.
She stood up, paced toward the kitchen, paced back to the fireplace, back to the kitchen, where she looked out at the stables. If she told Hayley the truth, what would happen next? She and Kyla would realize Jess had been lying to them for the entire time they’d known her. She’d stacked lies on top of lies for so many years that she hardly remembered the truth anymore.
Right.
She wished she didn’t remember the truth. But that truth was part of her—it was wound around her very DNA. How would her best friends feel when they found out the real story of Jessalyn Alcott?
Of Star Smith?
Jess shook her head, turning back toward the living room. Hayley waited, uncharacteristically quiet, a frightened look on her face. When Jess didn’t move, she got up, came forward gingerly, put her hand on Jess’s shoulder.
Jess flinched.
Hayley drew her hand back, face suddenly ashen. “Jesus, Jess. You have to tell me. Whatever it is, we can handle it. I can help you. Whatever’s happening, we can figure this out.”
Jess let her shoulders sink, shook her head, looked Hayley directly in the eyes. “It’s not that simple, Hayls.”
“Of course not. I didn’t mean to simplify it, whatever it is. Just—can you tell me?”
“I don’t know.” Again her voice was a whisper.
Hayley reached for her elbow, but didn’t quite touch her. “Come sit. Do you want some tea? I’ll make you some tea. Definitely. Tea.”
The last thing Jess wanted to do was add anything to her roiling stomach, but Hayley needed to do something to feel helpful, so she let her. She moved gingerly back to the couch while Hayley bustled in the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting out a mug.
“Should I call Kyla down? Would that help, do you think?”
Jess shook her head. “She’s busy. So are you, for goodness sake. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” Hayley stood at the counter while the kettle heated, and Jess