“Sounds as if she wasn’t right for you. She should have understood you are committed, but to the job.”
He considered. Kara was right again. But it was a heavy subject for the road and he wanted to steer them to light stuff, considering what happened back at the motel.
“Mind if I switch my playlist? No banjo music. Spanish.”
At her nod, he thumbed on his playlist and “Despacito” played. Kara nodded to the beat. He grinned.
“Like it?”
“Catchy. I didn’t know you enjoyed Latin music. It’s great dance music.”
“I grew up listening to salsa, merengue. Used to hang out with Rafe and his friends a lot in Miami.” Jace tapped his fingers on the wheel to the energetic beat. “Saved my life in a way.”
Another heavy topic. But Kara didn’t pursue it. Instead, she began seat dancing.
“Remember the times we went clubbing? That was fun. You’re a good dancer. Great rhythm.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you can’t grow up listening to this kind of music and not be a good dancer, though Rafe, man, he’s got amazing moves.”
“So do you. On the floor and off...” Her voice drifted off and color suffused her cheeks.
Oh, yeah, he did have great moves in bed. With Kara, anyway. Always wanted to go the extra mile to please her and it seemed to come naturally, as if they fit together.
Like salsa and chips.
He swallowed hard, not wanting to go there, either. So many memories between them.
When the song ended, he gestured to her phone. “Let’s try your playlist.”
“How about good ol’ rock and roll?”
Jace finally allowed himself to relax. How he remembered this—good times with Kara, going on road trips and singing to the radio as they headed for a quiet beach for a swim, or a hike on a swampy trail. Or put their bikes on his SUV and did a long bicycle ride on previously unexplored pathways.
Or those amazing times on the dance floor, followed by even more amazing times in bed...
Lost in thought, he went quiet, only noticing after a few minutes she had turned the volume way down. Jace passed a slow-moving truck, glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you ever have regrets? Real ones, about life...about us?”
Time for the truth. He hated lying. Ironic. His undercover assignment depended on a lie. But with her, with this, he needed honesty.
“Yes. I have regrets about us. I thought we would get married, have a good life together.”
“What happened, Jace? It wasn’t my career. In fact, you always supported me in the business, told me to reach for my dreams.” She drew in a breath. “It’s one of the things I loved about you.”
She said it so easily, without reservation, that it startled him. “And one of the things I loved about you. You were determined to make your business successful and not let anything get in your way.”
“I wish my business helped people. Like you do.”
He glanced at her. “Seriously? You help people, babe. People who have family who die, who feel helpless when faced with all the stuff left behind. Where do you start cleaning up? How much is everything worth? How can I sell it without worrying about someone ripping me off?”
Jace felt he needed to drive this point home. “People know they can trust you and you’ll give them a fair deal. Remember that one family whose grandmother was killed in a car crash and they couldn’t even function?”
“The family you referred to me.”
“I worked with the dad. Funny thing, he was the type who could handle everything at the job, but when faced with his mom’s death, he was helpless. You went through the whole house, had everything appraised, opened every single cabinet, organized, sorted between stuff they wanted to keep that was sentimental and stuff they didn’t want. You spent days working with them, babe.”
He smiled, thinking about that memory. “In the end, you didn’t even take a commission because they needed the money to pay for her funeral.”
Kara shook her head. “Not exactly true, Jace. They paid me later, when the house was sold.”
“And you donated every dime to Mothers Against Drunk Driving.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t anything special. I make a lot of money in my business, Jace. I’m no saint.”
Her voice dropped. “Sometimes I wish I had chosen a more noble profession. Like you did. I should have known you’d never be a real criminal biker. I always believed in you, Jace. I wish you had believed in me.”
Coffee. She’d wanted coffee. Seeing a fast-food restaurant off the highway, he drove there.
He parked and turned to regard her, knowing this was important. Not that he truly believed they had a chance to recapture what they’d both lost. This wasn’t about him. It was solely about Kara.
“I did believe in you, Kara. Still do. I was too proud to tell you. You give people closure, sad closure with some clients, but necessary. Closure to move forward, say goodbye without clinging to stuff that clutters their lives. The volunteer work you did with hoarders proves it. I saw that one show where you had everything cleaned up, sorted, organized. You were so sweet with that woman who’d been hoarding for years. Got in there, got your hands dirty with a situation that would make strong people nauseated. You marched in there without judgment and got to work.”
Kara blinked. “You knew about that?”
“I kept track.” Tough to admit it—hell, he didn’t want to sound like he’d stalked his ex-fiancée. “I was damn proud of you.”
Licking her lips, she stared at him. “Thank you, Jace. Thanks for telling me. It means a lot, coming from you. I always valued your opinion, more than anyone else’s, even my family’s. It meant a lot to me to have your respect, because I admired you so much for your strength of character.”
