The New Hope Cafe Read Online Free

Rosie’s way. “She died when I was
fourteen.” Cara had been devastated. Her grandmother had loved her
unconditionally.
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “I miss her.”
    Jonah looked at her in a way that made her feel really seen. Seconds passed like that and it happened again. Zing. Another jolt of desire . She caught an answering flare in his eyes. What was going on here?
Sex was the last thing on her mind. Part of it was that Jonah was handsome, with
longish dark hair, a square jaw and dark eyes. He reminded her of a young
Russell Crowe.
    He was older than her, maybe mid-thirties.
    Barrett’s age.
    Jonah had made her think of Barrett when he’d grabbed her arm
to keep her from getting burned. Barrett had squeezed her arm so hard her
fingers tingled, showing he had power over her, that he could hurt her if he
wanted to.
    The thought of Barrett snapped her out of it. Cara whipped her
gaze to the window. “You don’t use the vegetables in the café?” She could make
out cabbage, peas, tomatoes and peppers, some low vines—melon or squash—and
maybe strawberries.
    “Rosie sells the stuff to a restaurant in town—one of those
places with puny entrées, kitchen-sink salads and every cheese labeled artisanal. It’s not a café, mind you. It’s a bistro. ”
    She looked at him. “Not your kind of place?”
    “Not even close.”
    She smiled, staring out the window. “I would kill for a
garden.”
    “So plant one. Wherever you’re moving.”
    “It’s not that simple.” Nothing in her life would be simple for
years to come. Her mother’s house had been a stopping-off place at best. Now
they’d been set adrift, taking only the belongings they could fit in their
bags.
    Cara longed for a permanent home, safe and private, where a
garden would be as easy as Jonah made it sound. Right now it seemed
impossible.
    Back near the trees, she saw a round-cornered silver trailer
with a redwood deck, lots of furniture and strings of white lights. “Who lives
out there?”
    “Whoever’s cooking. Right now that’s me.”
    “Before you, your brother? The one who charred the
hamburgers?”
    “Yeah. He lives in town at the moment.” He frowned and there
was tension in his voice.
    Why had Jonah taken over? Had they fought? She sensed he
wouldn’t welcome the question. Just as well, she guessed, since she couldn’t say
much about herself either.
    “I thought the Quonset hut was an auto shop.”
    “Used to be one. Right now it’s my woodshop.” He turned toward
the bed. “Let’s clear a path to the door.” He obviously didn’t welcome more
questions. He picked up a box from the bed. She did the same.
    Together they cleared out boxes and furniture and rearranged
what was left so she had room to move. The work forced them to be physically
close, the way they’d been in the café. Each time their bodies brushed, Cara
felt more tingles and jolts. By the time they were finished, she was out of
breath and not from exertion. So strange. It must be a primal drive sparked by
being on the run.
    Beth Ann’s room was equally crowded, but what caught Cara’s eye
was a long shelf with toothpick structures—a fort, a biplane, an elaborate
marble run, a bridge and more. “Who made all these?” she asked.
    “My brother, Evan. This was his room for a couple years when we
were kids.” He surveyed the collection with a look that seemed both sad and
wistful.
    “So the room I’m staying in…?”
    “Was mine, yeah.” He shrugged. “Let’s get to it.”
    When they’d finished clearing the room, Cara went to the window
to open the blinds.
    “Does Bunny like to read?”
    When she turned, Jonah was so close that strands of her hair
caught in his emerging beard. She brushed the hair away just as he did. Their
fingers tangled for a second and she rocked into his chest. The chrome-stemmed
floor lamp he held rattled. They both took shaky breaths.
    “Y-yes. She loves to read.” Her face felt hot.
    “Good.” He angled the