Prove Me Wrong (26 page)

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Authors: Gemma Hart

BOOK: Prove Me Wrong
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              “I…” he started, seeming unsure as to what to say. “I got a little carried away there. I apologize. That’s not what I meant to do. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

 

              Kat looked at him, feeling hollow. “Of course,” she answered without thinking. That had instantaneous passion between them just now had been real. Very real…hadn’t it?

 

              Jason gave a small smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I know it’ll be hard having someone traipse about your town like this but it won’t be for long.” He cleared his throat. “And then we’ll be out of your hair in a few weeks when another contract comes in.”

 

             
He’s leaving again.

 

              Kat could only nod dumbly. For a second, she had felt like the Jason Daniels from two years ago was here again. She could feel him in his arms and in his kiss.

 

              But she had been mistaken.

 

              He was gone.

 

              Instead there was
this
Jason Daniels. The man who was aloof and goddamn confusing as hell.

 

              Kat shook her head, clearing her mind. Not wanting to seem like a naïve girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, she also gave him a ghost of a smile that never reached her eyes. “Just the neighborhood repairman,” she said. “That’s you, right?”

 

              Jason nodded, his gaze looking very close to regretful. “That’s me.”

Chapter
Twelve

 

              Jason leaned his head against the door. He could hear Kat’s steps fading into the distance outside.

 

             
You fucking moron.

 

              How could he have kissed her?
Because you’re a goddamn moron.

 

              Jason closed his eyes and sighed.

 

              He was. He was a Grade A moron.

 

              He shouldn’t have kissed her. He knew that. But no power in the universe could’ve stopped him in that moment.

 

              Kat. His beautiful Kat. He had carried her memory through hell and high water. He had remembered those sweet almond eyes through scorching hot desert rides. He had remembered her soft sweet lips and her warm smile through fierce and bloody battles. He had remembered her satiny skin and her shining hair through every chilly night, sweat inducing nightmare, and every horrible, lonely day of his deployment.

 

              And then seeing her in the flesh. Holding her so tightly against him. Seeing those clear and open eyes look up at him.

 

              He knew he had to have her. He had to taste that sweetness. He had to hold that softness.

 

              Her body seemed meant for him. Every curve fit perfectly against him. He had barely been able to restrain himself once his lips had met hers.

 

              But thank god he had.

 

              It had killed him to tell her that their kiss had been a mistake. That kiss had been the culmination of two years of waiting and dreaming. But Jason knew what the right thing to do was.

 

              And that was to tell her the kiss had been a mistake.

 

              He had immediately seen the pain in her eyes. He had seen her body shrink away from his, wounded and confused. God, if she only knew how much he wanted her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and lose himself in her. He wanted to feel himself sink deep into her warmth and to never let go.

 

              Jason shook his head as he headed back to his bedroom.

 

              But that wasn’t possible anymore. He still remembered the first day out of Iraq.

 

              He had been taken to a base in Germany to receive treatment for a leg injury and concussion he had received on his truck ride on the way out. A little parting gift from the terrorists for his last day.

 

              He had woken up confused and angry. Nightmares had been floating through his head the entire journey. Bloody comrades, dead friends, hidden insurgents, IEDs.

 

              As soon as his eyes had opened, his body was tensed for action. He felt a surge of adrenaline as soon as he realized he had no weapons. He immediately tried to assess the surrounding area, despite a splitting headache and double vision.

 

              A hand had gently touched his shoulder out of nowhere and Jason had immediately sprung into action. He had shot up, completely disregarding his injured leg and had thrown the hand off his shoulders and reached out, gripping the attacker by his throat, slamming him against a wall.

 

              It had taken five male attendants to push Jason back onto the bed. By then, his vision had cleared and his senses had returned to him. He had just enough time to see a nurse crying and clutching her neck before she was ushered away by a doctor.

 

              Jason felt guilt wrack his body before a nurse gave him a tranquilizer.

 

              And that had been the start of it.

 

              He had always had nightmares. He had seen too much death. He had been apart of too much death. And it followed him wherever he went.

 

              He had sleepwalked and even sleepfought because of his nightmares. His old friend Al had that faded scar running down the side of right temple where Jason had punched him in his sleep, mistaking the old man for an insurgent.

 

              Jason was tainted.

 

              He knew it.

 

              He was death incarnate.

 

              As a sniper for the Special Forces, he had personally shaken hands with death on more occasions than he cared to count. And that had permanently altered who he was.

 

              Through it all, he had carried the memory of that one brave girl who had taken a chance on an unknown soldier. He remembered her sweet smile and her loving words. He remembered the warmth he had felt as their two hearts had connected.

 

              But now, he also knew, she would be no more than a memory.

 

              There was no way he would taint her with his dangerous darkness. Of all people, she was the last person he wanted to see again. He had no control over his nightmares. Sometimes they even came during the day, when he was awake.

 

              No, he would never endanger Kat Ryans with his demons.

 

              He would stay far the fuck away and keep her in his memories to warm his heart when he felt the chilly of dark loneliness.

 

              That was until she barged into Reggie’s that night in Fayetteville.

 

              Of all the places he could’ve seen her, that was the absolute
last
place he expected to see Kat.

 

              Two years later and she looked just as good as he remembered. But even still, he could see her thinner cheeks and the dark smudges around her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.

 

              He had known even two years ago that Kat was clearly the glue of her family. Although Uncle Doughy was the undisputed leader, Kat was what made them an actual family. He had seen her tireless love spilling out of her that day at the diner.

 

              And when she had looked so disappointed at Reggie’s death, he had known something was up. Something was wrong. Her lips were turned down in a familiar way that made it seemed like she had not truly smiled in a long while. The glow in her eyes had dimmed from the sheer amount of worry she was clearly under.

 

              It hadn’t taken much research to understand the problem at hand. No wonder she was so stressed. No wonder she had been desperate enough to enter a bar like Reggie’s.

 

              Brothers Construction was quite a successful company doing work all over North Carolina but in no way could it save a whole town on its own. He quickly made some calls to other business associates to ask around for any advice or tips. That was how he had found out about the Carolina Society.

 

              He knew he couldn’t be with Kat. He knew he had to stay away.

 

              But he couldn’t bear to imagine her losing everything. He had read the death notice for Uncle Doughy while researching. Jason knew that everything was resting squarely on the shoulders of one fearless girl.

 

              And he refused not to help.

 

              But that’s all he would do.

 

              He would help her and Peytonville. And that’s it.

 

              He sighed as he sat on the edge of his bed. He remembered the sweetness of her mouth and the soft fullness of her breasts.

 

             
God, I’m a moron.

Chapter
Thirteen

 

              “What are you doing here?” Kat asked.

 

              She looked at the troop of men that had suddenly barged in through her diner.

 

              At the head was Jason, looking as good as ever in a clean but worn pair of jeans and a tight white shirt. She could swear she saw every ripple of his abs through his shirt.

 

              Giving herself an abrupt head shake, she chastised herself,
he’s just the neighborhood repairman. That’s all he is to you. Don’t go making yourself out to be another…
mistake.

 

              The word still hurt her.

 

              And she had felt tears stinging her eyes as she had left Jason’s loft. But once she had reached the diner, her tears had dried and her head had cooled a bit.

 

              Yes, she was attracted to Jason. That much was a definite given. And it seemed, at least sometimes, that Jason was attracted to her. But in the end, she knew it would not work. And perhaps, classifying her as a mistake was a blessing in disguise.

 

              Kat looked over at Malcolm who was doing his best Robert DeNiro glare from the grill at Jason and his men.

 

              She was the head of her family now. Malcolm and especially Dillon needed her. She was swamped with the worry of not only her diner but her town. If her town disappeared, so would Doughy Pop’s. And no matter what Jason had said about the Carolina Society or whatever, she was still unconvinced that she was completely in the clear.

 

              And even if she was, how would it be fair to saddle on a stranger the care of two younger brothers, one of whom was ill? Who could understand her sporadic midnight runs to the hospital if Dillon had an alarming cough or a bloody nose? He needed careful monitoring and that took up most of Kat’s energy. After so many years of playing the caretaker and surrogate mother, she wasn’t sure she was even fit to be in a normal relationship with a man.

 

              Perhaps yesterday
had
been a mistake. On both their parts.

 

              Jason had clearly kissed without thinking. And she had greedily accepted, without thinking of her responsibilities.

 

              Jason pointed to one corner of the diner and gave an order to two men and then pointed to another corner and gave orders to the remaining two. The few diners present watched curiously as these men pulled out measuring tapes and notepads.              

 

              “What are you doing here?” Kat repeated, watching the four men carefully measure and take note of her restaurant.

 

              “Well, if we’re going to be sprucing up Peytonville, we have to start with its figurehead—Doughy Pop’s,” Jason said, giving her a grin.

 

              Although his grin was playful, his eyes were soft and warm.
Forgive me?
they seemed to ask.

 

              Kat hesitated. She looked up at this curious ex-soldier who seemed almost as torn as she was.

 

              She slowly crossed her arms.

 

              Jason’s brow rose infinitesimally, as if worried what kind of anger she was about to unleash on him. She saw him stand a little straighter as if preparing to take whatever she threw at him.

 

              Kat frowned. Jason’s expression became serious and grim.

 

              “Then why did Hoyt’s get new a storefront first?” she said in a serious tone.

 

              Surprise then relief crossed Jason’s face in a matter of a few seconds. Matching her tone, he replied, “Whatever we did at Hoyt’s was only to make sure Doughy’s had a proper backdrop to shine against.” He gave a formal bow. “Rest assured, Doughy Pop’s will outshine them all.”

 

              Kat and Jason exchanged stifled shy smiles, both acknowledging that they would move forward as best they could in a civil and adult manner.

 

              “Cha!” Malcolm suddenly snorted as he slapped his spatula against the grill. Immediately a cry of pain followed as grease splattered against his glasses.

 

              Kat laughed and so did Janelle. The tension was broken and work commenced.

 

              Jason was true to his word in that he seemed truly focused on redoing Doughy Pop’s to the best of his ability. He came in with drawn out plans that were frighteningly accurate of the diner’s interior. Kat wondered how he had done it without having come previously to measure the place.

 

              She had stared at the plans in awe. He had to have a mind of a machine to have remembered every detail.

 

              Over the next few days, he came in regularly either with some of his project men or by himself to start work on the place.

 

              “See, this is where we’ll expand the kitchen a bit so that you can have an extra set of ovens,” he explained pointing at the blueprint. “That way you can bake bigger batches without having to wait for the oven that’s being used for regular menu items.”

 

              Kat couldn’t believe the thought and care he had put into the planning. It was clear he had really tried to think of the needs and wants of a baker.

 

              “And then right here, if we move the bar a foot and a half to the left and then moved this table a foot back, we could have a display case for your cakes and baked goods,” he said, pointing to another part of the blueprint. “And it lines up perfectly with that front window so passerbys can see what’s cooking here at Doughy’s.”

 

              Kat shook her head. “This is better than I could have imagine,” she said, truly meaning it. “But how is this being paid? I couldn’t afford all this.”

 

              “The Carolina Society,” Jason answered, rolling up the map. “They apply on behalf of a town for statewide and federal grants to help preserve cultural landmarks.”

 

              Kat’s lips curled up in amusement. Peytonville was a nice place but a cultural landmark?

 

              Jason caught the look. He grinned and shrugged. “Hey, this town has seen enough history to be able to say it has culture. I think saving it is worth a grant or two.”

 

              Kat couldn’t argue with that.

 

              She was about to ask if they needed to shut down the diner at any point for the construction when Malcolm shoved past her and wedged himself roughly between the two. Standing behind the bar, they made an awkward and crowded threesome but it was clear by Malcolm’s stubborn chin that he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

              “What are you doing?” Kat asked trying to shove her brother away so she had some room. He stood his ground though, not moving an inch. The crowded space wasn’t helped any by his huge black plastic tray bucket of freshly washed cups.

 

              “I’m here to stack the cups,” he said petulantly, clearly not liking how closely his sister was standing to Jason.

 

              Kat sighed. “The glasses are still steaming, Malcolm! You could’ve let them cool a little. Janelle would’ve taken care of them.”

 

              Malcolm shoved Jason and Kat further apart as he knelt to stack the glasses under the bar. “
Some
people are trying to keep the place Death Eater free,” Malcolm muttered just loud enough for Kat to hear. “It helps people eat better.”

 

              “Ah,” Jason suddenly said in an understanding voice. “What’s the patronus for Doughy Pop’s? I bet it’s Uncle Doughy glaring at the intruder, isn’t it?”

 

              Kat and Malcolm stared in stunned surprise at Jason.

 

              Jason gave them an innocent smile before filing away the blueprints.

 

              Kat remembered two years ago when the only person Jason could associate with wizards was Merlin. And now here he was, cracking Harry Potter jokes as if he was the number one fan of J.K. Rowling.

 

              It was clear that he hadn’t just browsed a book or two either. He had actually read them. Kat stared up at the side profile of this enigmatic man. He couldn’t have possibly read them for her….

 

              Could he?

 

***

 

              It was clear over the next coming days that Jason had done more than read Harry Potter.

 

              Slowly but surely the Brothers Construction men came in to improve the aging diner. They worked from the inside out so that they would cause the least amount of disturbance to the patrons.

 

              Kat was amazed watching the work be done. How long had she dreamed of making Doughy Pop’s something extra special? Uncle Do had worked hard to build something worthwhile and she wanted to make sure it stood the test of time.

 

              Her eyes grew round as dinner plates as she watched drills puncturing kitchen walls and new ovens being installed.

 

              And she could tell Malcolm was fascinated as well.

 

              How could he not? This was the place they had grown up in as children. And for the first time in their lives, they were seeing it change.

 

              Every time one of the men came in with a new tool or gadget, she could see Malcolm peer through the corner of his eye, watching with intent concentration.

 

              Kat watched with tenderness as her brother subtly flexed his thin arms and shrugged his bony shoulders as he watched the Brothers Construction men heave giant pieces of equipment with their bulging muscles.

 

              Uncle Doughy had been a good uncle. A great uncle. But he was a workaholic. He had inherited a sudden family to take care of and he took his responsibilities seriously. So although they had seen Uncle Doughy every day at home and at the diner, they had not had the typical uncle/nephew/niece relationship.

 

              Kat knew just how much Malcolm and Dillon had missed out on from not having a father in their lives. Especially as such gangly and awkward boys, they could’ve really benefited from a nurturing male figure who could’ve shown them more masculine hobbies that didn’t require so much physical grace like car repair or carpentry.

 

              Try as she might, Kat knew a sister was a poor substitute for a dad.

 

              Malcolm had a quick mind and was well suited for mechanical work. She had always hoped he’d become an engineer or something one day. And as she watched him steal quick glances at the manly men redoing their diner, that hope for her brother bloomed again with a passion.

 

              Then her heart caught fire in another way that she had never expected.

 

              While monitoring one of the men who was measuring a corner of the kitchen to install a new worktop, Jason suddenly turned and called out to Malcolm.

 

              “Are you busy there, Malcolm?” he said casually.

 

              As usual of late, the diner was nearly empty. Business was still on the downhill for most of Peytonville. Malcolm had been standing by the grill, making busy work of scuffing it clean when he had hardly cooked that day.

 

              Malcolm turned in surprise and looked over at Jason. “Why?” he asked suspiciously, not forgetting to give him his trademark glare.

 

              Jason jerked his head over at the man measuring the space. “You know, Dave here is a hand short. It’d be a big help if you come make sure our measurements are level,” he said.

 

              Kat sucked in a breath.

 

              He had said it so casually, so naturally. But Kat had seen it. Dave, just like all the other men of Brothers Construction, was a very competent person. She doubted he needed any help at all.

 

              But instead Dave kept working as if he had not heard Jason at all. And Jason kept his face casually neutral after dropping the offer to Malcolm.              

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