Page 30 of The Run Option

We walk up to the house through the dark. The only thing piercing the night is the warm yellow porch light. I smile, hearing my granddaddy’s voice in my head.“We’ll always leave the porch light on for you, sugar. Any time you need us, we’re here.”

I swallow down the emotion threatening to bring me to tears. What would he think of this? I glance at Jason as we walk up the steps side by side. What would he think of Jason? My stomach turns. I won’t ever know, I suppose.

Jason lifts his hand to knock, but I touch his arm before he can. My skin tingles from the contact and I jerk it back. “You don’t need to knock. She’ll think something is really wrong if you do that,” I explain, then pull my keys out of my clutch.

Once I unlock the door, I step inside and start slipping off my flats. I gesture toward Jason’s shoes, and he does the same.

“Granny, it’s me!” I yell out.

“I almost pulled out my gun, but I thought I’d wait to hear if it was you,” she calls back.

Jason chuckles while I shake my head.

“I brought someone for you to meet,” I say as I follow the sound of her voice to the living room. No doubt she’s settled in knitting a blanket or crocheting a hat for one of her friends' many grandbabies and great-grandbabies. I hope she doesn’t bring up kids after I tell her. I’ll never hear the end of it from Jason.

“Someone for me to meet?” She looks up from her knitting and gasps. “As I live and breathe,Jason Kingsley, is that you?”

I glance up at Jason, my stomach flipping like a fish out of water. There are so many ways this could go wrong.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, sounding a little nervous himself.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Granny asks as she sets her knitting project aside. She’s spent more time in her recliner since her injury a few days ago. I know it must be killing her not to be up moving around. I just hope that energy isn’t going to be redirected to her interrogating us.

Jason looks at me. At first, I think he’s putting the spotlight on me, but then he murmurs, “Do you want me to start, or you?”

“I can do it,” I reply, though I barely believe my own words. I look at Granny, who’s looking at us how she looks at the TV when she’s watching one of her British mystery shows.

“I get the feeling you have something to tell me,” Granny says before I can work up the courage to speak. “How about you put on a pot of coffee, then we sit and chat?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Jason speaks on my behalf.

“Willow can give you a tour while we wait for it to brew,” Granny says.

My heart jumps. That’s exactly what Ididn’twant to happen. A tour means he’ll see my old room, which looks almost the same as when I was a little girl. I didn’t even change it when I lived here before I moved into my apartment. At least it’s too dark to tour the outside. I don’t think I could bear Jason seeing the old stables. I’ve not gone out there much since Dad came and sold the horses.

Granny gives me a look telling me her words weren’t a suggestion.

“Come on,” I grumble and take his hand, dragging him out of the living room and toward the kitchen.

“If you don’t want to show me around, we can wait somewhere out of sight and I’ll just lie about seeing everything,” Jason says.

I pause at the coffee maker. His hand is warm in mine, and a foolish part of me doesn’t want to let go, but I do.

“I just didn’t expect to be showing you so much of my life so soon,” I say quietly, so Granny doesn’t hear. Even in her old age, she’s been known to have ears like a bat.

“I understand,” he says in a low voice, and I can see in his eyes that he does. “It’s okay if you want to wait to show me this part of you, or if you want to keep it for yourself.”

There’s something intimate about standing so close and whispering like this. I haven’t turned on the overhead light, so it’s dark aside from the tiny bulb above the stove. It feels as though we’re having some kind of secret rendezvous. As if he’s a boy I’m debating sneaking upstairs, rather than the man I’m going to marry in a week.

“Willow,” Jason whispers, dipping his head toward me. “I know the past few days have been a lot for you. I’m here to help shoulder your burdens, not add to them.”

I let out a breath, something akin to relief washing over me at his words. I don’t know if I can fully trust what he’s saying, fully trusthim, but I think I can at least try. Showing him my grandparents’ house doesn’t seem so daunting when he says things like that.

“I can give you the tour,” I tell him as I scoop coffee grounds into the filter. “Thank you for saying that.”

He nods, a soft smile on his lips. “I meant every word.”

I wish I could fully believe him. Maybe, in time, I will.

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