Page 5 of Anything for You
“That’s fine. I’ve used gas, but our old house just had electric coil burners. It was fine. I’m okay with cooking,but not gourmet or anything, so as long as I can figure out low, medium, and high on there, I’ll be fine.”
She ran a finger along the edge of the windowsill, then touched the light-colored drapes I’d hung.
Internally, a clock started ticking. The stress from earlier, the unexpected interaction, even though she was no threat and I even kind of liked her, sent a tightness winding around me. I’d need my own space soon.
I moved down the short hallway. “Bedroom’s there. Bathroom there. That room can be used however—couch folds out into a decent bed.”
I’d imagined it as an office, but more than one person had suggested the couch, and based on her response, it had been the right move.
She grinned. “That’s amazing. I could have someone come stay! Thank you so much.”
She clasped her hands together, and I couldn’t tell whether she was about to jump or beg or pray, and I didn’t want any part of any one of them, so I turned toward the front door.
“AC unit’s there on the wall. Heat if you’re still here in the fall, same place. You can light a fire but not in the summer, and?—”
“I’m planning to be here. Should I not be? I thought this was a six-month lease to start. Is it not?” The words tumbled out at a panic-level pace.
“Right. Yes. Just meant if it’s not working out, I’ll let you out of the lease. But yes. You’ve got until December first.” It had been a leap to commit to having someone else so close for that long, but Dr. Corrigan agreed I was ready.
I am ready.
I just need to go home now.
She sagged with relief and pressed a hand to her heart. “Okay, good. I’m not moving furniture, but… I definitely need a few months before I have to do this all over again.” She sniffed and swiped a finger under one eye.
I didn’t know the full story there, but Kenny and Luc had made it clear she needed a break. I wasn’t an altruist or a saint, but I could offer that. As long as she didn’t break into my house a second time…
“I’ll go. You have the number on the lease if you have issues. Just make sure you keep the lids on your trash cans and all that—the usual.” Pulling the door open, I halted at the threshold, a low-level headache starting at the base of my skull, when she spoke again.
“Is it dangerous here? I know we’re a ways out of town, but I didn’t actually think it through, maybe? Kenny and Luc and Adam all said it was safe, and I even saw Bruce the other day and he said it was a great spot, so…” Her brows pinched in the center, and she worried her lip.
“No. Sometimes wildlife, but nothing too bad since they scent Bear and he has a mean bark. I don’t leash him when he’s outside, but I can if?—”
“No, don’t leash him on my account. I’m not scared of him.”
I nodded. “Okay. Shouldn’t be anyone unknown around. If you do see people, it’s farmhands, but they don’t usually come over this way. All vetted. All good people.” And they knew to stay away from here because of me.
“Great. Awesome. Yes. Cool. Super.” She pushed some stray hair behind her ears and cleared her throat. “Thank you, Dorian.”
No cheery smile, no lilting laugh, no attempt to hide the exhaustion, sadness lingering at her edges, and her gratitude. Cerulean blue eyes with what might be tears gathering before she blinked them away pinned me in place, atack through the shirt on my chest pricking at parts of me no one had touched in years.
I nodded. Exited. Closed the door behind me. Bear nosed into my side, tail wagging as he followed me down the stairs and back to the house.
Away from her. To give her space. To take my own.
To keep her safe.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dove
One week later
The professional nurse in me ran five minutes early. The slug who took over her body at the stroke of the end of my shift ran ten minutes late.
I hoped someday I could find a partner who wouldn’t mind my perpetual personal tardiness. I wouldn’t mind someone like the men who worked at Saint Security—strapping lads who’d served their country, then come tomysmall town to find a home and the love of their lives—particularly since all of my friends had found their own Saint man, but if I did, I’d need him to allow me the grace to run late.
Prompt in the streets, late in the sheets? Hmm, no. Not quite right. I needed a pithy slogan to sell my penchant forlateness and then maybe it’d seem cute and fun and not irritating. My nan had accepted it with as much grace as she could, though I suspected this was primarily rooted in the fact that she wasn’t normally waiting on me on a schedule. I never ran late to take her to doctors’ appointments or the beauty parlor, as she called it, and I tried not to tell her what time I’d come visit every few days so she wouldn’t become agitated if I missed the chance.
