LITMIR.BIZ

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get to Nina for a while.

      “You all right?”

      “I’m fine,” she answered automatically, then realized how foolish a lie it was. She exhaled heavily and glanced at Dillon. His hair was mussed, his green T-shirt wrinkled, his work boots untied. “On second thought, I’m not fine. This is a disaster.”

      He turned over an unbroken chair and used the sweatshirt crumpled in his hand to brush it off. “Could’ve been worse.”

      “Worse?” she asked as she sank into the chair. She gestured wildly. “There’s an SUV in my bakery. There’s a huge hole in one wall and the other wall’s completely gone. Gone. How can it be much worse?”

      “A few feet to the left—” he crossed his arms; she noticed his skin was covered in goose bumps “—and he would’ve taken out your gas meter. That would’ve been worse. As it is, you’ll have to shore up the supporting wall, get new windows and a door, a couple of tables—”

      “Tables and chairs and new display cases. Maybe even new flooring. Not to mention priming and painting those new walls.” Her throat tightened painfully with unshed tears. She dropped her head into her hands. “Everything’s ruined. What am I supposed to do now?”

      “You’re supposed to handle this,” he said simply. “Does it suck? Yes. But sitting around whining—”

      “I am not whining.” She stood and flipped her hood back. When he raised an eyebrow, she sighed. “Okay, maybe I am whining. Just a little bit. I’m entitled.”

      “Look,” he said hesitantly, “I realize we don’t…know each other very well, but since I’ve lived here I’ve seen you handle your kids, late deliveries and rude customers. Believe me, you can handle this.”

      Her mouth popped open. “That’s…that’s the nicest compliment I’ve had in a long time.” And what did that say about the sad situation of her life that it came from the man she’d recently evicted? She skimmed her fingers over his cold hand, just the briefest of touches, but it left her fingertips tingling. She rubbed her hand down the side of her leg. “Thank you.”

      He stepped back, looking so uncomfortable she almost smiled. “It’s no big deal. Just calling it like I see it.”

      She cleared her throat. “You know, that sweatshirt might do you more good if you actually put it on.”

      “It might,” he agreed as he unwound the cloth to show her the dark blood staining it, “but I’d rather not.”

      “What happened?” She swept her gaze over him. “Are you hurt?”

      “It’s not his blood,” Jack said as he carefully stepped over glass to join them. “It’s Kyle’s.”

      Her knees went weak. “Kyle? Kyle who?”

      “Kyle Fowler,” Jack said. “He’s the one who was driving.”

      She held her hand out. “Wait a minute. Isn’t that the Roberts’ foster son?”

      “He is.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Seems he got mad at Joe and Karen and took off.”

      “Took off?”

      “He stole their car,” Dillon said, balling his shirt up again. “Some of their cash, too. The kid’s in deep sh…uh…trouble.”

      “He’s lucky he walked away with only a few bruises and a broken wrist,” Jack added.

      “If he wasn’t hurt,” Nina said, “where did all the blood come from?”

      “He hit his head against the window, got cut up. But it’s not as bad as it sounds.” Dillon held up his shirt. “Or looks. Head wounds always bleed a lot.”

      She didn’t even want to think about how or why Dillon would know such a thing. “I’m glad Kyle’s okay.”

      “You’re taking this pretty well,” Dillon commented.

      “What do you mean?”

      “If some kid stole a car and crashed into my building, I don’t know if I’d be quite so understanding.”

      “Understanding? Is that what I’m being? Maybe it would be better if I said I wanted to go to the hospital and tear into Kyle for his stupid, reckless actions?”

      “I’m not sure about better, but it might be more honest.”

      “Yeah, well, honesty’s overrated,” she muttered. The few times she’d allowed her temper to get the better of her, she’d ended up with a lot of bruises. Besides, she couldn’t get mad at some troubled teenager. The town would probably pass out collectively in shock.

      And take away the halo they’d branded her with.

      “There will be consequences,” Jack told her as one of his officers called his name. “Kyle’s facing some serious charges. And this isn’t his first offense. It could mean time in juvenile hall for him. Excuse me for a minute,” he said before walking away.

      While she was glad Kyle wasn’t seriously hurt, she just couldn’t feel bad for him. He’d only been here a few months, and he already had a reputation as a troublemaker. Although truth be told, he’d arrived with the stigma in place. Everyone had been concerned when Joe, a local accountant, and Karen, an elementary school teacher, had become Kyle’s foster parents. Married for close to twenty years and unable to have children of their own, they’d chosen to take in a juvenile delinquent instead of adopting an infant.

      “You’re allowed to be pissed,” Dillon said.

      She laughed and rubbed her temples. “That’s a new one. Usually people are telling me not to bother getting mad. Especially over things I can’t control.”

      “I’m just saying you have the right to be angry. Most people would be.”

      She dropped her hands. “I don’t want to be angry. I just want this to not have happened. I want to close my eyes and open them to discover this is all a bad dream.”

      “That’s not how life is.”

      “No kidding.”

      He thumped his fisted hand against his thigh several times. “Since you can’t blink and make this disappear—”

      “What if I wiggled my nose?”

      He smiled and the effect was so sexy, she caught her breath and lowered her gaze. The last thing she needed was her hormones taking notice of Dillon Ward.

      Of course, it’d been so long since she’d been aware of a man, she’d begun to doubt she even still had hormones.

      The tow truck driver got into his truck and started hauling the SUV out. Dillon took a hold of her elbow and led her to the far corner.

      “Unless your magic powers suddenly materialize,” he said, bending close so she could hear him over the noise, “you’re going to have to decide what your next step is.”

      He still hadn’t dropped her elbow. His hand was large and very masculine against the bright pink of her puffy coat. His hold on her was light. Supportive. And steady. She could really use some steadiness now.

      She swallowed. “I…I guess the next step is to call the insurance adjuster.”

      “Yeah, but right now the exterior wall needs to be boarded up and, since the interior wall is weight-bearing, it’ll have to be jacked up temporarily.” He leaned back, his jaw tight, his eyes steady on hers. “I could take care of the exterior wall. I wouldn’t be able to do anything inside until tomorrow, though. That is, if you want my help.”

      Her pulse skittered. Before she could answer, her dad barreled toward them. His weathered cheeks were red from the cold, his knit ski cap pulled down low over his ears.

      Dillon dropped her arm and stepped back. Nina forced a smile for her

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