Free Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) by Lauryn Michaels Page A

of the couch, her gaze still glued to him. Before she knew it, she slid into a deep sleep, lulled by the comforting sound of Jackʼs slow, regular breathing.
    ***
    Jack cracked his eyes open and looked around, trying to figure out where on earth he was. His gaze roamed over the bright yellow curtains pulled over the windows, the vase of colorful fresh flowers placed on the dining table, the red-bricked fireplace, and finally, the armchair right in front of him, in which Sara was curled up, deeply asleep.
    Sara?
    Still a little disoriented, he let his mind go over the happenings of the day before, but his gaze remained fixed on her. She looked even younger and more innocent in her sleep. How old could she be, anyway? According to the ID in his wallet, he was thirty-five…though he felt at least ten years older. His life was a mess. He might not remember it, but he’d been accused of murder and spent years in jail, for Godʼs sake. He felt like a freakinʼ pervert, fantasizing about a sweet girl like Sara!
    Yet he couldnʼt ignore how painfully tight his jeans felt at the sight of her sleeping all curled up in that chair, her long legs barely covered by the light blanket sheʼd kicked off in her sleep, her soft thighs brushed by the hem of the enormous white T-shirt she was wearing.
    Shit.
    Jack tore his eyes from her, irritated with himself. Why was Sara sleeping down here, anyway? Did she not trust him? Did she think heʼd rob her or something? Not that he could blame her. In all truth, he was surprised that she hadnʼt locked herself up in her room. He didnʼt trust himself, either. Hell, he didnʼt even know who the hell he was!
    Most likely a murderer, he reminded himself as bits and pieces of his conversation with the sheriff suddenly echoed through his mind.
    Go back to wherever you came from, Turner. Nobody in Starville wants a murderer like you….
    Those words hit him like a punch in the gut, just as they had the first time heʼd heard them. Feeling more and more disgusted with himself, he rushed off the couch and barely managed to bite back a groan at the abrupt movement. Truth be told, last night Sara had crashed right into his cracked ribs, which now seemed to be wanting to shoot out of his chest. But heʼd break another limb before admitting it to her.
    Jack shot her a quick glance; after making sure that she was still asleep, he grabbed his bag and walked quietly to the bathroom. When the door closed behind him, he turned to the mirror and stared into his eyes, almost hoping they would reveal something.
    But they didnʼt.
    ***
    Sara came awake to bright sunlight and a scratching sound. Her arms, legs, and neck were awfully sore―a painful reminder that sheʼd spent the whole night curled up on the chair in the living room.
    Stretching, she turned cautiously toward the couch, but a cold knot formed in her stomach the instant her half-asleep mind registered that it was empty. The sheets Jack had used during the night were now a tangled pile at the end of the couch, as if heʼd pushed them away in a hurry, and there was no trace of his clothes or bag. No trace of him.
    Just like the night before, her heart grew heavy with a mixture of apprehension, disappointment, and anger at the thought that he might have left.
    Running a hand through her tousled hair, she stood and walked to the front, where Lance was scratching the door. “Did you see him leave, Lance? Why didnʼt you stop him?” she grunted, opening the door for him. All she got in response was an excited bark before the dog took off running outside.
    Sara walked back to the couch and picked up the sheets with a sigh. Never in her life had she felt so sorry for herself. Jack must have thought she was a silly little girl for spending the whole night in that uncomfortable chair just to be closer to him, and she couldnʼt blame him―not when sheʼd reacted to him more pathetically than a teenager with her first crush. He hadnʼt even kissed her and sheʼd