Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) (9 page)

“Because I might be a murderer.”

“Yes, because of that, too,” Sara admitted. “But mostly because, for some crazy reason, you make me feel things that Iʼm not used to feeling, and…itʼs terrifying.”
There.
Sheʼd said it. After all, Jack was about to get out of her life forever, and she would never see him again, so what did she have to lose? She owed him the truth, at least.

She saw his jaw tighten, but when he didnʼt move or comment, she blew out a resigned sigh and forced herself to continue. “I came downstairs last night because I couldnʼt sleep. And I was afraid youʼd leave without saying good-bye. When I woke up and saw the empty couch, I was disappointed and mad that I hadnʼt heard you go anyway.” She dropped her eyes at the shocked expression on his face.
Crap.
Sheʼd met Jack barely two days ago, and already sheʼd given a whole new definition to the word
pathetic
!

At least one long minute went by before Jack was able to react.

How did Sara always manage to confound him like that? He felt so…dumbstruck. Limp. Never in a million years had he expected to hear those words from her, and now he had no idea what to do or say. Which, come to think of it, seemed to be an all-too-common occurrence when he was around her. He shook his head, trying to clear his clouded mind.

“If I kissed you now,” he said, “would it freak you out again?”

Sara snapped her head back up and was surprised to see the mirth glittering again in his eyes. “Probably,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip.

Jack moved toward her. For a moment, Saraʼs stomach knotted at the thought that he would really kiss her―but he didnʼt. Instead, he tossed his bag onto the couch and turned to her with a smirk.

“Is your breakfast invitation still standing?”

Saraʼs legs nearly gave out as a mixture of both relief and disappointment washed furiously over her. “Absolutely. Bacon and eggs okay?”

“Sounds divine.” His stomach rumbled as he said it, and they both smiled as they walked to the kitchen.

“Hospital food is not the greatest, huh?” she joked, grateful for the diversion.

“Hell, no. Can I help you with anything?”

Saraʼs eyes flickered to his injured leg. “Sure. Sit down and try not to bother me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jack sat at the kitchen table with a grin. He let his gaze roam over her, appreciating her generous curves as she moved around the kitchen.
Oh, yeah.
No skinny-model body for Sara Milano. She was soft and warm and filled in all the right places. He swallowed thickly as she bent over to grab something from the bottom shelf in the fridge. As if sensing his eyes on her, Sara picked that very moment to turn around and blushed under his predatory gaze.

“I changed my mind,” she said, setting a glass bowl in front of him. “Make yourself useful and beat the eggs.”

“Yes, maʼam.”

A few minutes later, the kitchen was filled with the mouth-watering smell of coffee, bacon, eggs, and toast. Sara placed a gigantic plate in front of Jack and studied him as he squirmed, trying to settle his big body in the small chair.

He was about to dig in when his hand stopped. “Okay, whatʼs
that
stare for?”

His question made her jump. For a horrible moment, she feared he might be talking about her ogling him, but she understood exactly what he meant the instant she saw Lance sitting beside him, his tail wagging furiously as he stared at his full plate with liquid eyes.

“He wants your bacon,” she said, relieved. “Donʼt feed him table scraps, though; theyʼre not good for him.”

Jack looked at the dog and shook his head. “Sorry, buddy. You heard her.”

She chuckled as she sat down. “So, how did you find out where I lived?”

The forkful he was about to pop into his mouth stopped in midair. “You told me you lived a couple of miles away from where you found me the other night, remember?”

“My house is not the only one in this neighborhood, Jack. And neither is my street the only one in a two-mile range.”

“Touché.” If anything, he had the good grace of looking uncomfortable. “Fine. You want the truth? I pulled your address up on the hospital computer.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you telling me you…stole official information?”

“I wouldnʼt say I
stole
it. Letʼs say that I, uh, persuaded the nurse to look it up for me.”

His expression was so smug that Sara couldnʼt help smiling. That poor nurse must have collapsed full-length to the ground under his darn magnetic gaze! Unsure whether to feel more outraged or flattered that Jack had gone through all that trouble to find out where she lived, she decided to opt for the latter. Why yes, she was happy heʼd found her. So what? “Howʼd you get here?”

“I hitchhiked.”

Sara shook her head in disapproval. “You couldʼve really hurt yourself with your leg in this condition.”

“I promise next time Iʼll call you first―if youʼll give me your number, that is,” Jack countered, raising another bite to his mouth. The teasing gleam in his eyes nearly made her drop her fork.

“It was stupid of you leaving the hospital without telling Doc,” she said, determined not to let him distract her. It worked, because he sobered instantly.

“I couldnʼt stay there, Sara. Not after learning the truth.”

How could she blame him? “What are you going to do now?”

“I donʼt know.” Jack shrugged, pushing away the empty plate. “At first I thought Iʼd go back to Chicago.”

Her heart thundered to a stop. “Chicago?”

“Thatʼs where the ID in my wallet says I live.”

“Oh.”
Wow.
She was not expecting that at all.

“Iʼll probably look for a place to stay in Starville for a while, though,” he continued pensively. “At least until I get my bike back. Or my memory, whatever comes first. Since Iʼm here now, I might as well try to find out why the hell I returned in the first place, you know?”

Sara nodded, trying to hide her relief. Why would she even care whether Jack stayed in town or not? After all, he was going to leave after breakfast, and sheʼd probably never see him again.

Chapter 8

“You
what?
” Nicky snorted into her glass of juice and glared at Sara, who sat across from her at her kitchen table.

“I told Jack he could stay at my house for a while if he wanted to, and he said yes,” Sara repeated uncomfortably. She knew that her decision would upset quite a few people in Starville, but she was prepared for it. She didnʼt care, anyway. After all, the whole town had kept Jack and J.T.ʼs story secret for years, and now she didnʼt feel the need to justify her actions to anybody. Nicky, however…well, she was another matter entirely.

“Sara, what the heck?”

She blew out a breath. “It was only supposed to be for a couple of days, until he found another place to stay. But he spent the whole morning making phone calls in the hope of finding an apartment, a motel, or even a bed and breakfast, and the nicest answer he received was from Mrs. Tipperton.”

Nicky arched an eyebrow at the mention of the elderly lady who owned the only inn in Starville. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up as soon as Jack introduced himself,” she admitted with a disheartened sigh. “I donʼt know what to do. Nobody here wants to even hear about him. Itʼs like taking a sudden leap back into the Middle Ages; I swear theyʼd burn him at the stake if they could.”

“Well, I understand that his return must be hard to accept for a lot of people in town. From what Iʼve heard, J.T. was very much loved, and his murderʼs still an open wound. Maybe Jack should find a place to stay somewhere else―Dallas, for instance. Itʼs close enough to Starville, yet nobody knows him there.”

“I know, but he wants to stay in town to figure out whatʼs going on, why he ever decided to come back after all these years…and if someone really tried to get rid of him,” Sara added with a shudder.

“Okay. But I still donʼt see why he has to stay at
your
place.”

Ha.
Wasnʼt it ironic that Jack had said the exact same thing after sheʼd offered to let him stay? Just like Nicky, heʼd told her that she was being irresponsible, asked her if she really knew what she was doing, and looked at her as if sheʼd lost her mind.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I know it sounds crazy. What do you want me to say? I must be a naïve, irresponsible idiot, because I truly believe Jack is innocent. I trust him. Heʼs not the horrible monster everybody describes, you know. Heʼs…nice.”

Nicky stared at her as if sheʼd grown three heads. “Heʼs a stranger, Sara. Youʼve only known him for a few days. You donʼt know what heʼs really like.”

“I know!” She groaned. “To be honest, if it were you telling me all this, I would suspect a sudden loss of your sanity.”

“Thanks.”

Sara attempted at a smile. “Maybe my mom is right when she says Iʼm too trusting. Look what happened with Fabrice.”

“Thatʼs a different story, hon. Fabrice was an ass, but he wasnʼt an ex-convict suspected of murder.”

“True.”

“Look, itʼs not too late to tell Jack that you changed your mind; you can tell him that you thought about it and decided itʼs best if he doesnʼt stay, after all.”

“I can―but I donʼt want to.”

Nicky blinked a few times, as if trying to process the information. Thatʼs when realization hit her. “Good grief, Sara. Youʼre not falling for him, are you?” Her expression was so horrified that Sara wouldʼve laughed had things not been so dramatic.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But itʼs not just that. I donʼt know how to explain this, but I feel…connected with Jack. Maybe itʼs because I saved his life, or because heʼs so lost right now that I feel responsible for him, I don’t know. All I know is that I donʼt want him to go. Not yet.” Sara gnawed on her thumbnail, waiting for her Nickyʼs reaction, but all her friend did was gape at her for the longest time before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, letʼs pretend you didnʼt say that. What about your book?”

“What about it?”

Nicky huffed. “Come on, Sara! Your agent was pretty clear: if you donʼt present a bestseller by Christmas, your publisher will drop your contract. Youʼre struggling to write enough as it is. Donʼt you think having Jack around is going to distract you even more?”

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I donʼt think so.”

“Really? How many chapters have you written in the past three days, hon?”

Sara swatted her words away with a hand. “That doesnʼt mean anything; it has been a crazy few days, but Iʼll get back in gear tomorrow. In fact, I think Jackʼs living with me might be beneficial to my writing.”

“
Right
.”

“Iʼm serious!” She leaned forward across the table. “Iʼve been thinking about my books a lot lately, trying to figure out why Iʼm suffering from this darn writer’s block. And you know what?”

Nickyʼs brows knitted. “Iʼm almost afraid to ask, but what?”

“I think itʼs because my own life is plain. Boring. Nothing ever happens to me. I tried so hard to be different from my mother and make sure that Iʼd have stability in my life that now Iʼm stuck in a mind-numbing existence.”

“Sara―”

“No, really, it makes sense if you think about it. How can I write about exciting things happening to people when I donʼt even remember what exciting means?” Heck, she was the secret writer of stories that had her characters go through the most adventurous escapades, but she had always been a spectator of her own life. Well, this time things were going to be different. This time she wanted to have the leading role.

Nicky blinked at her once, twice. Then she shook her head. “Honey, if you want some excitement, go take an exotic vacation somewhere―donʼt open your house to a suspected murderer!”

Sara slumped against the back of her chair. “Letʼs face it, Nic, I canʼt write a book like this. I don’t seem to have any fresh ideas, it’s like…Iʼve lost my mojo. My last two books were complete fiascos, my most loyal readers are disappointed, and I canʼt fail again. Not this time. You said it yourself, I only have a few months to come up with a really good novel or Iʼm screwed. So I was thinking…”

“Oh, no, here we go!”

“I was thinking, maybe if I help Jack discover the truth about his past, if I help him solve the mystery about his fatherʼs death, maybe Iʼll get my mojo back. Maybe I could even use his story as inspiration for my novel.”

Nickyʼs jaw practically dropped. “Thatʼs the most ridiculous thing Iʼve ever heard.”

“Probably.” Sara sighed. “But thereʼs more you donʼt know. I got a letter in the mail the other day.”

“What letter?”

“From my community college. My class didnʼt reach the minimum enrollment necessary to run, so it will be dropped indefinitely. Iʼll be out of work for who knows how long, and with the mortgage to pay and everything else…”

Nicky reached across the table to take her hand. “Oh, honey, Iʼm sorry. If you need anything―”

“Thanks, but thatʼs not the point. The point is, Iʼm desperate, Nic. I
have
to write the ultimate novel, or Iʼll lose everything Iʼve been working so hard for all of these years, everything Iʼve always dreamed of. I
have
to try this thing with Jack. I have no choice. I canʼt think of anything else that might help me get over this block. And heaven knows Iʼve tried.”

“I donʼt know, Sara.” This time Nicky was the one who slumped into her chair. “It sounds crazy. And dangerous. Does Jack even know that youʼre a writer?”

Sara dropped her gaze. “Well, no. I mean, not yet. But Iʼll tell him eventually.”

They lapsed into uneasy silence. Nicky downed the rest of her juice, then put the glass back on the table with a thunk. “Fine,” she said firmly. “If thatʼs what you want, I canʼt stop you. But Iʼm your best friend, and Iʼm a cop, so I will tell you this: be very, very careful. And, honey, if he so much as harms a single hair on your head, I swear there wonʼt be a trial for him next time.”

Sara gave a rueful smile. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just wait till Brent hears about this. Actually, why donʼt you all come to my place tonight? Maybe it would help if Brent and I had a chance to spend some time with Jack and get to know him better.”