Scorch by Dani Collins Read Free Book Online

night in Kalispell before collecting her this morning, should have called one of the women he used to see there. He hadn’t been laid since Tori and that was obviously starting to tell.
    “No, it’s not fine.”
    The minute his arm went back to his side, her hand rested on it again, this time with more weight.
    “I’m not going to pretend I understand what your life has been like, growing up without a home of your own. But judging by the loose ends I’ve been at, and how much it meant to me today to feel like I was home again, plus all the work you’ve done here… Vin, it looks really great. I can tell you were doing it for yourself, to make this your home.”
    His chest felt funny. Like it was pried open and she was leaning in for a look. He wanted to get up and walk away, but her hand kept him anchored, warm fingers moving like she was petting the dog.
    “You told me at your wedding… Do you remember?” A gentle squeeze into his forearm. “You said you were looking forward to buying a house and settling down and finally knowing where you belonged. I remember being so struck by that because I had always known I belonged here in this town, at the base, with Mom and then with Russ. I was already married when Mom died so I wasn’t uprooted. It didn’t even occur to me to go anywhere else. I remember being unable to imagine how it would feel to be adrift and not know where to go. Then Russ died and…”
    Her hand moved, climbing so the warmth of her grip cuffed above his elbow. He involuntarily flexed his bicep into her palm, then wished he hadn’t, but she didn’t seem to notice.
    “Florida isn’t a bad place. I’ve been going there every year since I was a teenager. I love my Dad and we get along fine. But that’s where I visit. It’s not home. I think that’s why I’ve been wanting to talk to you all this time. You completely understood that feeling I was experiencing of losing my mooring.”
    She sighed and rested her head against her bent arm on the back of the couch. Her knees were tucked very close to his hip. If she shifted any closer, he would feel her breast against his upper arm.
    He waited, anticipating it.
    He was so aware of her as a woman and so completely unable to move or speak, it was like something off a sitcom. She was taking out her heart and setting it next to his, pointing out how they had the exact same dents and bruises, which was profound and painful, yet he was turned on.
    He searched his mind for a kind way to shut this down because it was so wrong .
    “You’ve been so good to me. I can’t cut you loose again.”
    “You’re—” He had to clear his throat. He wondered what he looked like because his whole body felt electrified. “You’re sweet, Jac. Too sweet. I’m not going to take your house.”
    “Don’t be stubborn.” She gave his shoulder a nudge that only pushed her backward because she was such a lightweight.
    “I’m tough.” He assured her. “I bounce back real fast. Don’t worry about me.”
    “That’s what I’m saying! I am worried. We’re friends. I care, Vin. I want you to have a home.”
    He ignored how those words, I care , went straight into the gap she’d opened in his chest, feeding the starved part of him he barely acknowledged anymore.
    “I’m not a dog at a shelter.”
    “And I’m not some fragile widow who can’t put her own life back together,” she said crossly, moving away so she was facing forward, knees up to her chin. “I already have a lot here to anchor me here. Friends and in-laws and history. I don’t need the house to give me a sense of permanence. You do.”
    He felt the loss of her closeness and body heat, knew it was for the best, but still had to steel himself not to scoop her close again.
    “Besides, I don’t want to live here alone.” She gave him a baleful look. “It never bothered me when Russ was gone for nights at a time every summer, but now… I’m not scared”—she rushed to explain—“but my