Chapter 9
Amy rested two freshly washed tomatoes on the cutting board and reached for her knife. “So, how’d you like couples’ yoga today?” She glanced over her shoulder to see Jace standing beside her stove, looking adorably out of place in her kitchen.
He stirred the simmering soup Amy had thrown together then paused to meet her eye.
“I liked it more than I thought I would,” he admitted. Jace set his eyes back on the soup and began to stir once more. “In fact, I’d like to take her up on her offer. To come back and take the full class on our own.”
Amy cut out the top of each tomato, musing the red in her face was probably giving the tomatoes a run for their money. “I’d like that too,” she said. “Since tomorrow wasn’t an option, maybe I’ll see if we can set up a time for this week or next…” She stopped there. Jace said he planned to stay for a while, but who knew what that meant? A couple of days? Weeks? Months?
“Yeah,” he said. “That would be cool. I’m pretty open.”
Hmm. Her mind drifted back to the shoot. He’d been incredibly cool during filming. It wasn’t exactly that she’d forgotten the impact Jace Burns had on those around him, but seeing it again, with people she was used to working with on a daily basis, no less, was interesting. The female interns on the tech crew —figuring that he and Amy weren’t actually dating—were practically tripping over themselves to talk to Jace after the session, bless them. But who could blame them? For someone who should seem unattainable, he was kind and engaging enough that most women would believe theydidstand a chance with him. He had a way of making people feel important. Like the way he helped Stacy round up her papers after she’d dropped her clipboard. Or how he talked to Naomi’s son about his love for airplanes after the shoot.
Amy rotated the tomato she’d just sliced and began to dice it. She and Jace had great chemistry, but that wasn’t all. They were comfortable around one another too, something that didn’t always accompany chemistry. Still, in the time they’d spent together, there’d been odd little moments where he seemed to drift off into another world.
Perhaps it was aftermath from the war. Living through what he had, witnessing what he’d seen… it’d no doubt take a toll on anyone. “How’s that looking over there?” she asked, sliding the knife back onto the counter.
“Looks good to me. Smells good too.” He continued to stir as Amy moved beside him. She tipped the cutting board at an angle over the simmering, red soup, then slid the freshly diced tomatoes into the mix.
“There,” she said. “We can turn off the heat now.” She hurried over to the fridge, pulled out some crumbled bacon and grated cheese. “I would say these are optional,” she said, retrieving two deep, ceramic bowls from the cupboard, “but they’re actually not. The soup is good on its own, but a little bacon and cheese—it’s incredible.”
Jace nodded. “Toppings arenotoptional. You know, this reminds me of high school. The two of us in that class together.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she said. “In fact, I was waiting to see if you recognized this recipe.”
“Aw, great, does that mean we made this back in school? Because that, I don’t remember. I was too distracted by this pretty girl in my class.”
Amy pulled the wooden spoon from Jace’s loose grip and replaced it with a copper ladle. “Really?”Stop blushing, cheeks.
“Yeah,” he said, resting one full bowl on the counter. He reached for the next and spooned a few scoops in. “She was a real flirt. But only with me, so, you know, that was hot.”
She nodded to the toppings. “Spicy Tomato Zucchini Soup,” she said. “That’s what this is, and it’s been one of my summer favorites since we made it together in class.” She breathed in the rich, tangy aroma as her mouth watered, recalling the way she thought of Jace each time she made it. Amy never dreamt she’d be standing in her kitchen, about to share a pot of it with the man himself.
Jace took the steaming bowls to the shaded patio while Amy grabbed a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge. A cloudburst had moved through earlier that morning, keeping the temperature lower than what it might be on a typical August day. Which made not only the soup a perfect choice, but the patio too.
Along with the iced tea, Amy rested a wicker basket on the table. Cups, silverware, and napkins rested inside, along with a container of peppermints and butterscotch candies. It wasn’t until she was seated beside Jace that the magnitude of the situation settled in. She was—essentially—on her second date with Jace Burns. He was in her backyard having lunch with her.
Her heart attempted a few yoga moves of its own at the knowledge. The soup tasted better than ever. Jace must’ve agreed, since he helped her finish off the pot at her prompt with a third helping. She loved the idea of having a man around. Amy loved to cook, and it was much more rewarding to cook for someone beside herself. Someone who’d appreciate it.
“Thanks for lunch,” Jace said. “Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on that since high school.” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s fair to say I didn’t stay in the class to acquire cooking skills.” He shot her a wink that gave her heart a jolt. They’d cleared the table—all but the iced tea—and were looking over the farmland beyond Amy’s back yard. Tall, dancing cornrows rippled in the breeze, an endless wave of long, green leaves peaked with swaying tassels of gold.
“I’m sure you’ve had to go without a lot more than soup over the last few years.” It was the first time she’d dared refer to his time of service. Amy wasn’t sure why, but she hadn’t felt qualified to bring up such a topic. Even still, a sharp little knot built in her chest as she awaited his response. When he and his platoon members had been presumed dead, his family refused to believe it; they wouldn’t let anyone else believe it either. Amy hadn’t known where she stood at the news. She recalled telling herself that his family was right; there was no way Jace Burns was dead, but the larger part of her feared it was true. She remembered the unbelievable relief she felt upon hearing they had lived. She hadn’t assumed she’d see him again, necessarily. What would be the occasion? But here it had come. And Jace had initiated it.
Realizing he had yet to reply to her comment, Amy shifted her gaze from her iced tea back to him. His eyes were already fixed on her, but when she met his gaze, something changed. The connection intensified as the pools of his sky blue eyes, as endless as the sky itself, invited her deeper. She pulled in a shallow breath, recalling the feel of his strong, muscled back against hers that morning. The incredible scent of him that threatened to distract her.
“Amy,” he said, voice low and raspy. “I have something to tell you, but I don’t want it to… distract from what we’ve started, if that makes sense.”
Oh, no.“That’s a pretty grim introduction.” She tried to say it playfully, as if she were chiding the lonely pup next door for howling until she dropped what she was doing to retrieve him. But it sounded off. Off, because already she was afraid of losing him. The unreachable, untouchable Jace might have flown back into her life, like some mysterious dark raven or black crow, but he’d be gone as quickly as he came. She should’ve known.
He reached his arms across the table, but pulled them back before she could consider the gesture. “I work for this guy… he’s kind of like Batman. Well, Bruce Wayne, anyway. He’s incredibly wealthy, and rubs shoulders with even wealthier philanthropists from all over the world. Each has a special interest in seeing one injustice or underground organization put to rest. Sometimes that can be done better when a few legalities are … modified, if you know what I mean.”
“Like vigilante work?” she asked, hoping he didn’t detect the ridiculous tremor in her voice.Stop it, Amy. You can’t lose what you never had.
A dimple sank into one cheek. “Exactly.” The grin vanished, and a somber expression took its place, triggering that ache in her heart once more. “My mom was attacked when I was young. Did you know that?”
She nodded. “I remember that you helped catch the guy.” Jace and his heroic actions had made front-page news, earning him superhuman status in his small town by the age of sixteen. Always destined for greatness, it seemed.
Jace looked down at a spot at the table, reached out, and ran the side of his thumb along the tall, icy glass, sending a stream of condensation to the base. “Sutton—the guy I work for now— figured I’d be a good fit for a project that targets human trafficking. A US-based website was gaining popularity on the dark web, creating an entirely new hazard here in America.”
