Home is Where the Heart Is (Home #1) (14 page)

“Hey,” he said softly. “You still with me?”

He kept speaking to her even though she couldn’t quite pick out the words, but it didn’t matter; his voice was enough. As he kept talking to her in a low soothing voice, the world began to shift back into place.

“I’ll give you a lift home,” he said finally.

She opened her mouth to argue but wasn’t even given a chance as he pulled her to her feet, then guided her to the car park.

“Didn’t you just get here?” she murmured as he helped her into the Ute and actually did her seat belt up for her.

“Oh, you know, I came to ogle Ryan Gosling, but I guess you’ll do as a substitute,” he replied nonchalantly.

Isabelle shook her head at him, but she was smiling. “Are you always this weird?”

“Weird?” he asked in mock outrage. “How very dare you?!”

They kept up the flirty banter the whole ride home, Isabelle feeling more at ease the longer she spent with him.

“Tell me about where you came from,” he asked once he had pulled into his driveway, successfully eliminating the flirty mood.

“What do you want to know?” Isabelle replied guardedly.

“What was your school like? Was the town like this? Were you as mysterious there as you are here?”

He shot these questions off so quickly Isabelle had the feeling he must have wanted to ask them for a while.

“Wow, that’s quite the list,” she replied, eyebrows raised.

“That’s not even scratching the surface,” he told her. “But it’s a start.”

Isabelle sighed. Where to begin? What to cover that was honest without getting close to emotionally shut down territory?

“Well, it’s a lot colder there. We actually get snow in the winter, but I hate skiing and snowboarding and all that junk, so it never really worked for me. I’m not being mysterious now, and I wasn’t really mysterious there - I had a few friends, but none I was particularly close to.”

Except Tate.

Shaking off the stab in her heart, she opened her mouth to tell him about how she had the best view in town from her old house but he cut her off with a snort.

“You know damn well everyone sees you as the ‘Mystery Girl’. Myself included.”

“Maybe you’re all just blind, Jace.”

His eyes held hers as they burned like the sun. Without breaking contact, he took two fingers and gestured to his eyes with them. “Twenty, twenty vision.”

He may as well have said
hot, silken skin,
for how breathy and sexy his tone was to her. Isabelle felt herself shift slightly towards Jace, his voice drawing her nearer like she was tied to a rope he was reeling in slowly.

He moved an inch closer himself and heat flared up around her, her lips parting on their own as his face watched her intensely, his full lips pursing.

Soft hands traced her jawline and then she was completely out of control, her body and mind at two different ends as his touch triggered a flash back.

I don’t want this.

Sure you do, baby.

Jason’s words echoed in her head. She was starting to feel like she didn’t have enough air. Sweat formed at the back of her neck and she felt crushing fear press down on her chest as past and present became one and she couldn’t pull back into reality.

She couldn’t move her body as he shuffled ever so slightly closer again, the air thinning with every inch he moved nearer.

No, no, no. She had to stop this.

Bitch!

Flinging one arm up to block a blow that was never coming, she fumbled the handle with her other arm, managing to open the door just before their lips touched. She let herself fall backwards, tumbling out of the car and landing in a heap on the ground.

“Isabelle!” Jace’s eyes grew impossibly wide as his hands reached for her.

She managed to get back on her feet before Jace had made it all the way around the car.

“Don’t!” she cried out, curling away from his efforts to help her up.

“What the hell?” he snapped.

His eyes were not kind now, they were blazing with hurt.

“I needed some air,” she told him lamely, cradling her arms to her chest as she sank back into reality.

“Air?” he repeated. “So then crack open a window, turn the AC up, fan yourself with your hand. Don’t just tumble out of my car like I’m some predator trying to cage you in!”

“I wasn’t – I mean, the door, it was – you scared me, and –”

His eyes flashed with anger and hurt before he smoothed his features out. With a curt nod he took a step away from her.

“I’m going to meet up with Matt, I’m super late. Take care of yourself.”

He turned, and with one swift movement, pulled himself into his car and drove away.

As soon as he was out of sight, she crouched down on the driveway and gave herself a face palm. So he’d been in the city meeting Matt, and had left his best friend waiting just so he could make sure she got home safely. And what did she do? At the first sign of intimacy she practically threw herself from a stationary vehicle.
She sighed deeply into her hands. This was not exactly going the way she planned. She was meant to leave the past behind her and lock up her emotions and vulnerabilities so when she started to make new friends no one could get hurt. It was her own fault for giving him the wrong signals - if she’d just drawn the line at friends from day one there would have been no confusion and his near kiss wouldn’t have triggered a flash back.

So she would just have to make sure she made it up to him with a batch of her choc chip ‘apology cookies’ and the sincere promise that she couldn’t offer much, but she could be the best type of friend to him if he was willing to forgive her little meltdown.

Plan in place she moved with purpose inside, not even bothering to lock the door behind her.

“Mum!” she screeched. “I need you to take me to the shops, I need some ingredients!”

“I’m right here, don’t yell,” her Mum chastised from behind her.

Isabelle spun around, her whole body tingling with excitement.

Her Mum’s face fell when she saw her and Isabelle tried to scramble her brain for what she might have done wrong now.

“Your face…?” her Mum whispered in horror.

Oh right, Kimberley. Her parents hadn’t seen the damage yet, as Maia had swept her away this morning before they could get a good look at her.

“Mum, I’m fine,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?”

“Yeah, I’m not concerned by it. What I am concerned about is our lack of groceries.”

“What is going on with you?”

Obviously her diversion tactic was not working.

“Mum, listen to me, I’m totally fine.”

“Fresh bruises on your face and you’ve got no explanation? Twice in a month now you have come home from a night out looking like you ran into Mike Tyson and you’re going to stand there and tell me nothing’s going on?”

“It was an accident. I already had the bruises, so when someone tripped and fell into me, it just made it worse.”

It burned her a little; the anguish in her Mum’s gaze and the pleading in her voice, but she couldn’t give her what she wanted without destroying the last strands of her sanity she had left.

Realising Isabelle had no intention of giving her all the details for the previous incident, her Mum moved closer and cupped Isabelle’s jaw, forcing their gazes to meet.

“Are you taking drugs?”

Isabelle stared at her for a beat and then burst out laughing. She wished her problems were that simple.

“This is not a joking matter! Answer my question right now, young lady.”

“Jesus, Mum, of course I’m not taking drugs. How could you even ask me that? You’re meant to be on my side.”

Her Mum grabbed her with desperate hands. “I
am
on your side. I just want to understand you. You used to tell me everything and I just want to know what changed.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she whispered as she met her Mum’s watery gaze. “I’m not taking drugs. Please trust me – I’m doing OK.”

After a few beats, her Mother nodded, kissed her forehead and wandered off into the next room, obviously still distressed.

It made her feel like a monster to walk away knowing her Mum was upset and needed her reassurance, but she didn’t have the energy to lie to her parents with some cock and bull they were too smart to fall for. Guilt tore at her insides, and she felt sick at herself.

She wanted to make things right, but she wasn’t ready to face her Mother’s knowing eyes. Jace first, then.

She knew he wouldn’t be home for a while yet, but waiting for him sounded more appealing than her own destructive thoughts alone in her room.

She knocked on his front door hesitantly.

A few moments later a tall brunette woman with a beautiful but tired face answered the door.

“Can I help you?”

Can anyone?

“Uh, Hi, Mrs Scown, I’m Isabelle. I just moved next door…”

Mrs Scown’s face lit up. “Oh Isabelle, hello! What can I do for you, honey?”

“I was just looking for Jace.”

Mrs Scown eyed her speculatively, and it was clear from the look on her face that she was well aware that Isabelle knew Jace wasn’t home.

“You just missed him Isabelle,” she told her kindly, although her eyes were sharp with curiosity. “Did you want to come in and wait until he gets back? Although, he could be awhile...”

Thank God Mrs Scown felt like humouring her craziness.

“I’ll wait, thanks Mrs Scown.”

“Please, call me Claire,” she offered as she moved out of the doorway to let Isabelle through.

Although identical on the outside, inside the Scown’s house was as different to hers as you could get, although it was hard to judge since Isabelle did have a box filled house at the moment.

Instead of the pristine almost empty feel that her family’s house always possessed, Jace’s was filled with clutter. There were photos of the family hanging everywhere in the front entrance, mainly of Maia and Jace ranging from infants until now. There was a lot of stuff around, but Isabelle liked it, because it had a distinct feel of a well lived in home.

“You’ll have to excuse the mess,” Claire said apologetically. “Working full time and being a single Mum kind of took priority over my maid skills.”

Isabelle shook her head, a smile on her face. “It’s not messy at all, I really like it.”

Claire smiled at her with genuine warmth. “Thanks hon, really sweet of you. How are you finding our little town?”

Isabelle shrugged. “Everyone’s been really sweet so far, and the weather is great.”

Claire smiled. “Haven’t really had a chance to make up your mind yet, huh?”

“Was it that obvious?”

Claire winked at her. “Talking about the weather is a default for not having anything better to say.”

Isabelle decided then that she liked Jace’s mum, how her smile was so warm and she seemed open and just… cool.

“How about I keep you posted?” Isabelle replied.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. I hope my children have been making you feel welcome?”

Isabelle blushed, thinking of Jace immediately. Her stomach rolled. “They’ve been really great.”

Claire watched her intently, searching for something. “Good to hear. Maia tells me Jace seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Abort, abort, abort! Conversation getting dangerously awkward.

“He’s been a good friend,” Isabelle said lightly, letting her eyes drift to the staircase.

“Just be careful with him, I don’t want anyone hurt,” she warned softly.

Isabelle snapped her eyes back onto Jace’s mum, furious that she didn’t have more faith in Jace. Her angry reply was cut off by how sad Claire looked.

“Mrs Scown,” Isabelle began, not entirely sure what she could say but feeling like something needed to be said.

“Claire,” she cut in firmly. “Jace’s room is the last room on the left, just make yourself at home. Call out if you need anything.”

She swept out of the room swiftly, leaving Isabelle standing by herself, stunned.

She could not even imagine what it must be like for Jace to live in a house where his own mother had no faith in him. She thought she had it bad with her parents caring too much. Guess you really don’t know how good you have it until you see how different it could be.

Shaking some of the tension out of her body she began her ascent up the stairs, taking in the metal bannister and the family photos on the wall. The last photo was cracked, like someone had punched it, and in it was a much younger Claire, her face fresh and without worry. She also saw Maia and Jace when they were maybe twelve, wearing matching blue jumpers, their black hair smooth and shiny.  Next to Claire was a man Isabelle knew had to be the twin’s father. Isabelle’s mouth dropped - he looked identical to Jace, down to the lazy smile and startling blue eyes.

Her heart ached for all of them and she thought she could understand why Claire was so distant to her son. She didn’t know what had gone down, but she could guess it was pretty horrible.  It must have been unbelievably awful for Claire to have finally found the courage to leave her husband, only to have her son wearing the same beautiful face that had caused so much pain
She sighed deeply and moved forward. She didn’t want to be caught by Claire staring at her broken family - things were awkward enough.