living room window. Seconds later, there was the crash of shattering glass. Jess started, even though she’d known it was coming. When he reappeared, the bag was gone. He retrieved the box, then ran in the direction of Main, still clutching the crow bar.

Jessica let her head fall back against the couch. “I guess that’s it. Nothing we can use.”

“There won’t be any prints, either. He was wearing gloves.”

She pushed herself up, and Buttons jumped down, tail wagging. After hanging her purse and overnight bag over one shoulder, she picked up the dog’s leash. “We’re ready to head to BethAnn’s.”

At the door, he swept her with an assessing gaze. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

“Eventually. I might have a few nightmares at first.”

He lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “The snake is gone. And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

His eyes locked with hers—warm, golden flecks trapped in twin pools of deep hazel. She could easily imagine herself drowning in the concern there. Now would be a good time for that kiss she was thinking about earlier. Anything to pull her thoughts from creepy crawly things.

But not tonight. And not Shane.

He drew in a deep breath and turned toward the door.

“Let’s get you to BethAnn’s.”

Chapter Eleven

Shane sat on the padded stool and swiveled back and forth. Large, glossy books bearing names like McCall’s and Simplicity lay lined up on the counter. A pang of nostalgia shot through him. He was no stranger to fabric stores. Or pattern books. When he was a kid, his mom practically lived there. Likely still did. His childhood was as far removed from Jess’s as it could be. His detective father embodied the title hero, and his mom was a good old-fashioned homemaker, a throwback from the June Cleaver era.

He turned to cast another glance at Jess. She was making progress. She might get out of there before Easter after all, in spite of her overly ambitious last-minute customer. She was buying enough yardage to clothe half the town of Harmony Grove. At least that’s what the healthy stack of fabric bolts seemed to indicate.

When he’d arrived at six, she’d looked like she was just getting started. Now, twenty minutes later, she seemed to be winding down. Six bolts of fabric lay stacked on the counter, along with coordinating thread and lengths of cut lace. Jess had already cast several apologetic glances his way. He didn’t mind waiting. But the sun had set some time ago, and the western horizon that had blazed red-orange when he first arrived was rapidly turning to midnight blue.

When Jess had the final piece of fabric cut and folded, she carried the stack to the register, rang it up, and walked the woman to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” she said once her customer was out of ear shot. “She came in right before you got here and had a whole list of things she was looking for. At least, a whole list of ideas. It took her another twenty minutes to translate those ideas into specific pieces of fabric.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

She strode toward the register and began to remove cash from the drawer. “Fortunately, I had everything tallied up before she came in. I’ll just drop this in the safe and close up for the night.”

“Where is BethAnn?”

“She left at five-thirty. Hot date with Kevin.”

“The bookstore Kevin?”

“Yeah. Dinner and a movie. Of course, she’d deny it’s a date. ‘We’re just friends,’ she says.”

He laughed at the sing-songy tone she used to mimic her boss.

After removing the last stack of bills, she shoved the register drawer shut. “He pops over here several times a day to talk to her, and they’ve done lunch together twice this week.”

“Maybe it’s one-sided—nothing but friendship on her end, but he’s wanting more.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged and headed for the back of the store, platform boots clicking on the vinyl tile floor. How she stood in those things all day, he’d never understand. But it was hard to imagine her without them. And the well-fitting jeans and the dark bob. That was her style—chic with a healthy dose of sassy.

He rose from the stool and watched her as she made her way back up the center aisle. He would see her safely home then walk across the street to his empty apartment and watch TV. Or read. Or maybe even write. He needed to distance himself from her, at least emotionally, before he did something stupid. Like kiss her.

Last night he’d come so close. Twice. The relaxed, intimate dinner by candlelight had shattered his defenses and awakened a longing so intense it was almost painful. Then seeing her vulnerable and terrified had almost finished him off.

He stifled a smile at the image of her beating that snake senseless with the padded top of a crutch. Jess was a bundle of contradictions, which just made her all the more fascinating. She was tougher than most men he’d met, but let that silly little dog capture her heart almost from the start. She would confront an intruder in her house or a masked man in the park without hesitation, but a three-pound snake set her teetering on the edge of hysteria.

“Okay, that’s it.” She hit the bank of light switches and pushed open the front door. After she locked up, he fell into step beside her.

She looked up at him. “Are you still employed?”

“Nope. When I was clocking out, Hammy said I had been replaced, and not to come back on Monday.”

Her shoulders fell. “I know we were expecting it, but I still kept hoping they were going to decide to keep you. You didn’t happen to stick around long enough to do any snooping, did you?”

“Actually, I did. I hoped I might run across this Nick Lombardi.”

“Did you?”

“Nope. Most of the factory was deserted. I guess everyone clears out fast on a Friday afternoon. Everyone except Spike.”

“Uh-oh. I think I know where this is going.”

Yeah, and it wasn’t good. “I went

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