“And did he find you?” My tone is tight, strained, as I think about her being made to feel like she had to hide.
She shakes her head. “He didn’t. I don’t know if he ever even pieced it together that I’m in Seattle, or if he’s still looking for me.”
There’s still a bit of shame lingering on her face, a haunted shadow in her eyes that has no place being there.
“None of that was your fault,” I tell her.
Nora surprises me by laughing a little. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because nobody has the right to make you feel unsafe. Nobody has the right to push past the boundaries you’ve set.”
Even as I say the words, a deep sense of unease settles in my chest. Is that what I’d done to her at the beginning? Is that why she’d feared me so much when we’d first met?
“Sometimes I don’t know how to separate it all,” she says softly, not looking at me now, but staring out at the rivulets of rain running down the windshield. “I don’t know how to put all of that fear aside and just… trust people.”
There’s something broken in those words, something that tugs at all the golden filaments reaching out from my chest toward her.
“I’m not demanding your trust, Nora. I would like it, yes, but I also intend to earn it. If you still have any reservations about me, or think that I’m someone who makes you unsafe, I want you to honor those feelings and make the choice you need to.”
She looks back at me then, and everything she must be feeling is clear as day on her face. All the doubt, all the mistrust, every last thing that makes her so afraid of letting down her guard and letting me in.
“I… don’t think you are.”
“Good,” I tell her gently. “If I ever give you a reason to doubt that, I hope you’ll let me know.”
Nora nods, though the troubled look doesn’t leave her eyes. When she turns and reaches for the door handle beside her, I can’t help but speak up.
“Can I walk you to your door?”
Finally, finally, that small smile of hers reappears. It starts with her lips, but goes all the way to her eyes before she nods. I get out of the driver’s side, and something deep and ridiculously masculine purrs its approval when she waits for me to come around to her side and open the door.
Before today, I wouldn’t have said chivalry was an intrinsic part of my nature. I’ve always been conscientious and polite with my lovers, but this is another matter entirely. Whether it’s the bond doing something to my psyche, or just the soul-deep need I have to care for this woman who I suspect hasn’t had anyone go out of their way to take care of her in a very long time, I’m not sure.
What I do know is that as I offer her my hand and help her out of the car, as we both dart through the rain to her front door, she’s still smiling and looking so damned beautiful it hurts.
Standing in the glow of the porch light, with the rain falling beyond the small alcove outside the door, I’d do just about anything to stretch this moment out a little longer.
It’s too much, too soon, and even I’m sane enough to recognize the need to give her space and breathing room. Nora needs to come to me, choose me, and making her feel stifled or pressured won’t get me anywhere with her.
If it’s forever I want, it’s patience I need, even if my hasty, greedy nature wants me to reach out and snatch the treasure in front of me and hold her close.
With that in mind, I know I should say good night.
Nora hesitates, fiddling with her keys.
What’s she waiting for? She can’t be expecting… no, I wouldn’t have that much good fortune handed to me this evening, not after I’ve barely started to make up for how poorly the beginning of our acquaintance has gone, not after I’ve—
Whatever other self-recriminations are about to run through my mind are stopped immediately by the grasp of Nora’s hands on my shoulders, and the press of her soft, warm lips on my own.
They’re wet with rain, and tasting just like I thought they would—like the cool bite of the ocean and the soft silk of flower petals.
And when she leans in closer, puts a hand on the back of my neck, and opens for me, I lose myself entirely.
9