Free Learning to Breathe Again by Kelli Heneghan Page B

on his arm. “So, this
restaurant, is it a chain or something local?”
    He glanced between the road, her hand on his
arm and her face and she loosened her hold, drawing back. Right
hand still on the wheel, he reached over with his left and trapped
hers. “I like it there,” he told her, his voice huskier than
normal.
    “ It might cramp my arm,
having to hold it up like this.”
    “ Can’t have that, can we?”
he switched to driving with his left hand, snagged her hand with
his right, and laid their joined hands down on his thigh. She
smiled over at him, a faint blush on her cheeks.
    “ And here’s the restaurant.
I wouldn’t say it’s a chain, but there are a few locations around
the Hill Country.”
    He squeezed her fingers before releasing her
hand as he parked the truck and opened his door. “Stay there!” He
ordered, laughing as she tossed a mock salute his way. But she
stayed in the truck this time until he came around and opened her
door.
    She was still laughing as he helped her down.
He brushed back a strand of hair from her face, his fingers
caressing her cheek. “Your eyes could light up a room when you
laugh.” Her laughter faded at his murmured words, and her heart
started racing.
    Her gaze danced away from his, taking in her
surroundings and she licked her lips. He cupped her cheek and she
stared at him. “It’s ok. It’s just me,” he kept his voice low,
even. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, in any way, tell me.”
    “ No. It’s not you,” she
choked out a laugh. “God, how clichéd can I get? ‘It’s not you,
it’s me,’” she drew in a ragged breath. “I’m ok. I just need a
second,” a few more deep breaths with her eyes closed. The rough
pad of his thumb was stroking over her cheek in a gentle caress.
She turned her head into his palm, nuzzling it, and his other hand
tightened against her waist. She peeked up at him, biting her
lip.
    “ There’s no pressure here.
This is a simple dinner between us.” He tucked her hair behind her
ear. “Let’s go inside before the wind gets any colder.” With his
arm wrapped around her shoulders, he turned towards the
restaurant’s entrance.
    The hostess greeted them and showed them to a
table, and within minutes, had water, fresh bread and their wine on
the table. Bayleigh’s eyes scanned her menu before drifting to
Jack. She’d known what she’d wanted as soon as they walked through
the door. A juicy steak and baked potato, with everything they
offered topping it. With a sigh, she closed it and set it
aside.
    “ Decide already?” He looked
over at her with a smile, closing his own and setting it on top of
hers. He motioned to the waitress and they placed their
orders.
    “ How long do you think
you’ll stay in Waketon?” he asked after the waitress walked
away.
    Small talk. She could do small talk, couldn’t
she? “I’m not sure, yet. I don’t want to wear out any welcomes,”
she reached for the bread. “You said you grew up here?” Maybe she
could get him to talk, then she wouldn’t have to.
    “ I did. I was born in San
Antonio, my birth mother came home for a few months, but one
morning, Pop got up, found a note on the kitchen table and Ma found
me still in my crib.”
    “ Did she ever…?”
    “ Once a year or so she’d
show up,” he cut off her question. “She never stuck around long.
During one visit, Pop had her sign the legal documents giving up
her rights to me. The visits spaced out after that. Last I heard,
she was in Arizona.”
    “ I’m sorry.” Not knowing
what else to say, that was all she could offer.
    “ Trust me, I know I’m better
off without her. Ma and Pop treated me like their own son. It was
my own insecurities that caused any problems with it, but we’re
long past that.” He assured her.
    The waitress brought their salads and
refilled the water glasses.
    “ So what was it like growing
up here?” Bayleigh forked up a bite of the crisp lettuce. F ood. I can keep my mouth
full, not