Treasure on Lilac Lane: A Jewell Cove Novel by Donna Alward Read Free Book Online Page B

right, but was there any good way to broach the topic that wouldn’t be offensive? Especially since Rick didn’t even acknowledge that he had a problem. The teasing atmosphere they’d achieved during the drive to the shelter was completely obliterated.
    They were nearing town now and Jess could hardly wait for the drive to be over. She closed her eyes and wondered why Rick always managed to goad her into an argument.
    “I’m sorry,” she finally said softly. “You asked me to go along today for moral support and all I ended up doing was picking a fight. I shouldn’t have done that.”
    His breath came out on a whoosh. “Arguing with you takes my mind off other things, so don’t worry about it.”
    “Things like what?”
    He shrugged.
    They started down the hill to Main Street. The ride was almost over and nothing felt settled or on solid ground. “Things like what?” she repeated.
    “Like my mom’s empty house,” he answered. “Like having to go through her things knowing she’ll never touch them again. Like knowing she is my only family in the world and she’s gone.”
    Jess recognized his tone for what it was—pain.
    “Look, I know I’m not perfect. I have issues. I’m a huge disappointment. I’m angry. I’m angry all the time and I don’t know where to put it. But I’m trying. Maybe it doesn’t look like it, but I am. And I do that one day at a time.”
    She was about to respond when he finished with, “So it would be great if you could just back off.”
    He turned off of Main onto Lilac Lane, pulling up to the curb outside the shop.
    Jess gathered her handbag and opened the door.
    “Thanks for coming with me,” he said, but there was a distinct lack of warmth in the words.
    “You’re welcome.”
    She was about to shut the door when he stopped her. “Jess?”
    She looked up. It was so hard to read his face. He’d made stonewall expressions an art form. But there was something in his eyes, something a bit softer than the hard line of his jaw, as he nodded. “I promise I won’t make any problems at the wedding. You can count on me to be the soul of propriety.”
    It was hard enough to imagine Rick saying the word propriety let alone being the epitome of it. But he was trying. He’d been honest. More honest than he’d been since his arrival home, at least. Even if they’d argued, there had been moments of truth. She should be glad for that.
    “I’ll hold you to that,” she replied, looking up at him.
    “And I’d appreciate if you kept the adoption thing to yourself.”
    “I promise,” she replied solemnly, meaning it. It struck her now that she was the first person he’d ever shared that information with and she’d rewarded his confidence by picking a fight. “I won’t say anything.”
    Then she slammed the door and scooted across the street to the shop, feeling his gaze on her back, wondering what he was going to do now.
    Rick Sullivan would only cause her trouble. She should really stop spending so much time thinking about him and worry more about her own life.
    *   *   *
    Rick’s layoff notice finally came, one day before the end of the month. Rent was due in forty-eight hours and his truck was nearly out of gas. It made no sense to pay rent for a tiny dump when a perfectly good house with no mortgage and up-to-date taxes was sitting vacant, so he put in his notice and moved home.
    Tom had repeated his job offer of installing Jess’s shelving, but Rick hadn’t given him an answer yet. It felt weird, accepting a paycheck from his best friend. Besides, Jess would never agree. He knew exactly what she thought. They were old friends and she felt sorry for him. To a point. But she hadn’t exactly jumped at the idea at the café the other day. He still remembered the look of relief that had passed over her face when he’d refused.
    So … first things first. He began with unpacking his painting supplies. Panes of glass, vinegar, rags, paints, brushes, and his