Page 26 of Dumbstruck
Jonah
Notetoself:trynot to sleep on any more floors.
When I wake, the sky is still pretty dark outside, June is sound asleep, and I feel like I got hit by a truck. I like to think I’m pretty spry for a thirty-two-year-old and used to sleeping in strange places while I’m on the road filming, but my back was not meant for hardwood. Nor was my heart meant for worrying the way I did last night. I don’t think I slept much because every little noise made me think someone was coming after June.
Sitting up and stretching, I watch June for a few minutes and marvel at the way she handled things last night. She was scared, but most people would have been full-on panicked. I almost was, and I’m glad Richie agreed to come check on her. I’m more glad he gave in when I told him I was coming whether he joined me or not.
Yeah, he said whoever was in that car was probably just trying to scare June into minding her own business, but what if he was wrong? What if someone had tried to hurt her?
I run a hand through my hair and tiptoe out of the room to where Richie is propped up on the couch, eyes fixed through the open blinds to the front yard. “Anything happen last night?”
He shakes his head. “All quiet.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
He doesn’t have to answer that question. When he’s on high alert, Richie doesn’t sleep. I have no idea how he does it. I swear there have been weeks during press tours where he only gets a few hours of sleep over the course of several days, but he keeps chugging along like it’s nothing.
I finally understand how he feels when he’s in charge of my safety, and I don’t know how he handles this kind of worry all the time. I feel like I’m one jump scare away from falling apart.
“What about the license plate?” I ask through a yawn I can’t hold back. Now that the house is bright with morning sunshine, I’m relaxing. Barely.
Chuckling, Richie lifts his phone with a shrug, showing me the black screen.
I groan. “Dead? We need to get you one of those supercharged batteries or something. Or keep a portable charger in the car.” Though, knowing him, he would forget to charge that too. “I’ll check and see if June has a charger you can use.”
It’s not until I poke my head into the bedroom that I remember she’s still asleep. These late night shoots have been killing me this week, and only partially because my late call times meant I couldn’t talk to June until midnight or later. And I’ve been desperate to talk to her every day, which is ridiculous because we’ve been on a single date and shared one too-quick kiss that barely counts for anything.
Hasn’t stopped me from reliving it.
Like a creep, I lean my shoulder against the frame of June’s door, my hands in my pockets, and watch her sleep. Does she feel our connection as much as I do? Sure, she hugged me like no tomorrow last night, but I’m giving all credit to the actual creep in the car. If she hadn’t been spooked, I wouldn’t have gotten an embrace like that, and that’s fine.
But now that I’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like to hold her, I want to do it again.
June looks a lot less fierce when she’s asleep. Of course she does. But her dark hair is a mess around her head, and her mouth hangs open slightly as she breathes deeply, like she doesn’t have a care in the world now that someone is here to look out for her.
Iwantto take care of her. To make sure she has no reason to feel any fear in her own home. It took her a long time to fall asleep last night—I spent that time listening to her toss and turn and telling myself that it was a bad idea to start up a middle-of-the-night conversation—and she’s probably exhausted from her ordeal last night. But what can I actually do to help her?
I only have a couple of days’ break while Bonnie is out, and I plan to spend as much time with June as I can. But I don’t want to pressure her into solving this sabotage mystery with me. She’s been talking a big game the last couple of days, but that was before things got personal. I wouldn’t blame her for wanting to step back, though that would make it harder for me to enjoy her company.
My mind needs to figure out who’s trying to ruin our movie. My heart needs…
I swallow, biting my tongue as June stirs. My heart wants her. It wants to know if this is more than a simple attraction. And if it is? That’s going to raise a lot more questions I won’t have answers for. I’m a Hollywood actor from LA who rarely has breaks in his schedule. She’s a business owner from a small town in Colorado and seems content to stay that way. There’s no way this can work.
But I don’t know if the reality of the situation is going to stop me from trying.
June opens her eyes and finds me in the doorway, and the smile that lifts the corner of her lips heats a ball of lead that has been in my chest since our kiss. If that thing goes molten, I may never cool down when it comes to this woman, because everything she does seems to add a little heat.
“You’re still here,” she says, her voice scratchy.
I fold my arms. “What kind of guy do you take me for?”
“The kind who has better things to do than hang around here.”
“Agree to disagree. I can’t think of anywhere better.”
Her blush heats the ball inside me another few degrees, as I knew it would. “Jonah James,” she whispers and runs a hand through her hair to smooth it.
Time to change the subject before my exhaustion convinces me boundaries are for suckers. “Do you have a phone charger Richie can use?”
