Chapter 131
996 Words
The next morning, Chris pulled up in front of Jenny’s house. He climbed out, grabbed his bags from the back seat. He straightened up, saw Mrs. Patterson in her window, avidly watching him. He waved at her, and she actually waved back this time.
Huh. Maybe she’s welcoming me to the neighborhood?
Jenny had been sitting in her living room for hours, watching for him. She had woken up at five o’clock, scared to death at the idea that in about four hours, a man was moving into her home. A huge, strong man, a man who had been trained as a Ranger, a dangerous, violent man. A man who also just happened to be the only man in six years who didn’t terrify her.
She’d changed her mind a hundred times that morning. She thought about calling Chris, telling him thank you but let’s just forget the whole thing. Then she reminded herself that if she didn’t do this with him, then she wasn’t going to do it at all. Then she almost backed out again, before talking herself into it again. Back and forth, for hours. But in the end, she stayed in her chair, watching out the window for him.
She studied him now as he walked up to her house, really took in the whole man. Handsome, tall, muscled. Short blond hair, gray eyes that could look as hard as steel or as soft as cotton wool. She loved the way that he looked at her, she had to admit: his eyes were so gentle and warm, and she always got the feeling that Chris saw her at her best. He saw her as she could be, as she so desperately wanted to be. And that was why he was here, standing on her front stoop, knocking on her door.
OK, girl. Here we go. Be brave, now.
Jenny got to her feet and took a deep breath. She opened the door wide, looked at Chris. He gazed back at her, those gray eyes calm.
“Hey, Jenny,” he said. “How you doing?”
“Good,” she said and stepped aside. “Better, now that you’re here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She smiled and he stared at her, knowing that it was a real smile. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” He stepped in, closed the door behind him. He stood there between her and the door, taking his coat off, watching her closely. She bit her lip as she realized that her escape route was blocked, and she took a few breaths.
Oh, God… I can’t get out. He’s right in my way. f**k. OK, calm down. It’s OK.
“You want me to move away from the door?” he asked quietly.
“N–no.” She crossed her arms, trying to contain her shaking. “No. I trust you. You’re not going to hurt me.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Never.”
She nodded, determined to stay in place, trying to not make a mad dash for the side door.
Chris took off his boots, watching her face the whole time. She was pale and a bit unsteady on her feet, but she was still standing there. And he was still between her and escape.
He picked up his bags, took a step closer to her. She stepped back automatically, then cursed.
“I’m sorry, Chris.”
“It’s OK. One thing at a time.” He smiled. “I’ll take these to my room, alright?”
“OK. And maybe you want some coffee and croissants?”
“Fresh-baked, I bet.”
Jenny relaxed. “Yeah. This morning. With chocolate or without.”
“Hmmm. Tough one. Maybe one of each?”
“No problem.” She moved into the kitchen, aware of where his body was even with her back turned. She heard him cross the living room, heard him go upstairs to the bedrooms. She exhaled, hard, when she heard his footsteps overhead. It felt odd to have someone else in her space, but it felt good, too. Nice.
Chris started to unpack, relaxing into his new space. Even the guest room smelled of cinnamon and sugar, and he realized that he was actually directly above the kitchen. He smiled, liking the idea of being right over Jenny when and where she was happiest and felt safest. It gave him a sense of security, knowing that he’d be able to hear her moving around down there, and that he’d know when she was cooking or baking.
He washed his hands in the attached bathroom, and headed back downstairs. Jenny turned when she heard him, and they stared at each other for a few seconds, adjusting to the new reality.
Oh, my God. We live together now. Holy f**k.
He wandered into the kitchen, watched as she didn’t move away. “You need a hand?”
“Uh, sure. You want to take the coffee to the living room?”
“OK.” He took the cups from the island and set them on the low table, sat down on the sofa. He watched as she placed the plates of croissants next to the coffee and then joined him. She hesitated, then moved a bit closer to him, froze, moved again.
They sat and ate together, chatting. Chris watched the tension leave her beautiful face as time passed, and he wondered what they were going to do that day.
“So,” he said. “I have the day off work – are you going to the restaurant?”
“No.” She looked down. “I took the day off too. I thought I’d need a bit of time to – to get used to all of this.”
He nodded.
She took a deep breath, forced herself to meet his eyes. “Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we try – to hold hands?”
- Writer
