Free Unsafe Haven by Char Chaffin

Denn followed the circular movement with his eyes until he made himself dizzy. Surely no glass shelf in the world was meant to be so clean. He reached for her hand and trapped it under his, stilling her movement. She jerked at the contact and raised her face to his.
    Fear clouded those big brown eyes. During their lunch in New Mina, they’d been brightly amused. Today they were flat-out scared.
    Why the hell is she so afraid of being touched?
    “Kendall, what’s going on?”
    “Nothing.” She turned, stuffing the rag in her pocket. He caught her arm with a firm grip, but she wrenched it away, walked stiffly to the door, and held it open. “I need to close up now.” She kept her eyes averted from his.
    “Kendall—”
    She shook her head once, hard, and stared at a point just past his shoulder. “Chief Nulo, I value my privacy. I have the right to. I also have the right to ask you to leave, if you’re bothering me.” She gestured toward the door. “I appreciate your kindness in letting me use your truck, but it doesn’t mean you get to stick your nose in my business.”
    “I wasn’t—”
    She held up a hand to cut him off. “Yes, you were.”
    Frustrated, Denn sighed as he walked to the door. Before he stepped out, he gave it one last try. “I wasn’t being nosy, Kendall. It’s just—you acted rattled, and I wanted to make sure everything was all right.”
    He waited until she faced him with obvious reluctance. “I came here to ask you if you’d like to have dinner with me and Luna tomorrow night. Around seven.” He tried a winning smile. “I make a mean pot roast.”
    She shuddered. “I told you, I don’t ever eat red meat.”
    Denn raised a brow at her vehemence. The other day in New Mina, she’d scarfed down Betty’s reindeer burger, but now probably wasn’t the best time to point it out.
    Instead, he smiled easily. “Okay, how about fish? Do you like fish?” At least she hadn’t outright refused. Yet.
    “Yes, I like fish.” Her expression softened somewhat, and one side of her mouth curved upward, an encouraging gesture.
    He moved closer, a slight momentum. Leaning in, he murmured, “Halibut casserole. Luna’s favorite. Full of protein. Very tasty.”
    Her smile widened, enough to make his heart pound anew.
    Down, Nulo.
    “I like halibut a lot.” She paused, and when he gazed into her eyes, they were clear again. “I could make a salad.”
    Hesitancy might have colored her offer, but he’d take what he could get.
    Kendall set her purse on the glossy piecrust table in her room at the Four Hills Inn. She smelled bleach on her hands when she pushed them through her hair and loosened the curls. She badly needed a shower, but it could wait until her nerves settled.
    A date with the town cop. She was obviously out of her mind.
    Stretched out on the bed with her hands tucked behind her pillow, she stared at the lacy canopy above. Wendy had mentioned her great-grandmother, Ling, had crocheted it from cotton as thin and fine as sewing thread. Something so lovely and delicate—and complicated—must have taken forever to create. According to Wendy, Ling didn’t start it until she was in her eighties and crippled with arthritis. Pain and fortitude had formed the fragile pattern, but its beauty would endure for future generations.
    Fragile, yet strong. Delicate, yet able to withstand years of usage. Sometimes she felt the same way.
    She might be stronger now than a year ago, but was she ready for dating? She didn’t know. Anxiety churned her stomach, worse than when she’d boarded the plane in Pendleton, the first leg of a trip which would bring her to Staamat.
    She’d been in town a month. Every day, she grew steadier. She’d made friends here, was ready to open a business, a huge undertaking for someone who’d struggled for every bit of independence.
    Thank God I didn’t marry him. Thank God.
    Kendall rubbed her cold palms over her gritty eyes, then let her hands drop to the coverlet.