Free More Than Friends by Susan Mallery Page B

she was lying on her back, then pulled a bottle from the diaper bag she’d slung over the arm of the chair. “Some friend. You haven’t seen or heard from him in eleven years.”
    “I know that. But don’t forget Dad beat him up and practically ran him out of town. You can’t blame Chase for that.”
    “No, but I blame him for other things.”
    Jenny shook her head. “No. That was
not
his fault.”
    “Then whose was it?”
    She stared at the sweet baby in her sister’s arms. “The rapist’s.”
    “Jen, I didn’t mean—”
    “I know.” She tried to smile. “It’s okay. Look, I appreciate your concern, but what I do with Chase is my business. For what it’s worth, he needed a place to stay and I offered him the spare room.”
    “A place to stay?” Anne snorted. “As if that mansion on the other side of town doesn’t have enough empty rooms.”
    “I know it sounds funny, but it’s true. He doesn’t like the house.”
    Her sister began to feed the baby. “Are you still in love with him?”
    “No.” She answered without thinking. It was only after the word was out that she prayed it was true.
    “Are you sure? There was always something between you.”
    “He was my first crush, my first boyfriend, my first kiss. And before that, we’d been friends, best friends, for years. Of course we had something. Something pretty wonderful. But we’ve both grown up and apart. Everything is different now.”
    She picked up a paper clip and willed herself not to blush. Not
everything
was different. The passion was exactly as she had remembered. Even an hour after the fact, she could still feel the strength of his body pressing against hers, taste him, hear the rapid pant of his breathing.
    It was just hormones, she told herself firmly. Since she’d broken off her engagement with Alec, there hadn’t been anyone in her life. Her reaction to Chase was perfectly understandable under the circumstances.
    “I don’t want you to get hurt,” Anne said.
    “I won’t. It’s only for a couple of weeks. When his father is better, it’ll be like he was never here. I promise, I’ll be fine.”
    Green eyes, so much like her own, studied her. “And if the old man doesn’t get better?”
    Jenny shrugged.
    Anne brushed her daughter’s cheek. “I may not remember that much about Chase Jackson, but I do know one thing. He hates this town and it hates him. He’ll never stay here. Not even if his father dies and he inherits the mill.”
    “So?”
    “So keep out of his way. You don’t need more trouble in your life. None of us do.”
    The baby finished her bottle. Jenny held out her arms and took her niece. After positioning her over her shoulder, she patted the baby’s back gently until a very unladylike burp filled the office. The infant, all warm and smelling of talc and formula, made her heart clench tightly. She’d never had the chance to hold her own child. Had never seen the perfectly formed body. At the time, her family had been protecting her, but lately she’d wondered if she should have insisted. Maybe seeing the tiny coffin would have convinced her that her baby had really died. Maybe she wouldn’t always be so aware of an empty spot deep inside, as though she’d lost a piece of herself.
    “I’ve got to get going,” Anne said, packing the empty bottle and pulling out an infant blanket. “Call me if you need anything—even just to talk.”
    “I will.” Jenny kissed her niece on the cheek and whispered, “Goodbye, pumpkin.”
    Anne slung the diaper bag over her shoulder. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She paused in the doorway. “Dad’s here to see some guys in the mill. He’s planning to come up and talk to you.”
    Her sister’s tone warned her that the conversation wasn’t going to be about her invitation to dinner the following Sunday. “Don’t tell me—”
    Anne shrugged. “He knows about Chase staying with you.”
    Jenny straightened in her chair. “I’m a grown woman. He doesn’t