Page 3 of The Awakening
My ticket to freedom lay in the belly of this man. Judging by the frozen dinners I’d spotted in the freezer earlier, he was in desperate need of some home-cooked meals.
Not to mention his cabin looked like it could use a deep clean. I’d make his life so easy, he’d be begging me not to leave.
“Of course, I do. It’s almost ready. Go wash up, and when you’re back, supper will be on the table.” A rogue tear fell and landed on my shirt. I was so damn grateful for his generosity and for the normalcy of this conversation.
“Don’t cry. It’s all going to be fine.” He walked over to me and wiped the tear’s trail from my cheek. My body was acutely aware of his closeness, the rough but gentle feel of his thumb on my cheek remaining even after his hand fell away. “Let’s just say you picked the right remote cabin to break in to.” With that, he turned and headed out of the room.
His words were kind, and his actions thoughtful. It was totally opposite from the rumors I’d heard about the Mortons. Or the unpleasant gossip that had been swirling around the area since he’d arrived. Though no one quite knew what had happened down south, the term embezzlement had been thrown around a lot. The pain etched into each line of his face came to mind as I dished up the plates. Or maybe it was loneliness. It radiated from him—from the slump of his shoulders to the hurt in his eyes. Even his good looks couldn’t conceal the anguish. Rumors were just that, rumors. I was sure there were plenty floating around about me these days too, if they hadn’t been my whole life. Regardless of the truth, as long as he let me stay, I would do everything in my power to make him not regret it.
When he returned to the kitchen, he walked up behind me and sniffed over my shoulder. “That smells amazing.”
“It was the best I could do. You need groceries, but I managed to find enough for spaghetti and meat sauce.” I turned and smiled at him.
“It’s my favorite, and the only thing I actually know how to cook with any kind of competency. I will always have the ingredients for it. Mind you, it never smells that good when I’m making it,” he tossed out as he walked back to the table.
I set the plates on the table. “Well, thank you. I’ll have to remember that.” His eyes regarded me hungrily. Or was he just looking at the food in my hands? I couldn’t be sure as I set his plate in front of him, and I took a seat across the table. “Please, eat.”
He swirled his fork in the heaping mound of spaghetti I’d dished out for him and shoveled his first bite into his mouth like he hadn’t seen a decent meal in months. His eyes popped open as he groaned. When he’d swallowed back his mouthful, he shook his head. “You’re going to have to teach me your ways. This is too good.”
“No, not going to happen. If I reveal my secrets, then what reason will you have to keep me around?” My tone was light and teasing for the first time.
He set his fork on the side of his plate. “I’m sure your skills aren’t limited to spaghetti alone.”
The way he studied me made my heart race and my mouth dry up.
Water. I needed water. I slipped out of the chair and raced to the sink. I pulled two glasses from the cupboard and filled the first, then drained it completely before filling it again.
He let out a low chuckle before I returned to the table with a glass of water for each of us.
“So, are you going to tell me what exactly made you run?”
Stopping midbite, I looked up from my plate. It wasn’t the supper conversation I’d wished for, but he had every right to know why I’d broken into his home.
“Are you sure you want to know? The story might ruin your favorite supper for you.” I couldn’t help but smile at him before I put the forkful of pasta into my mouth.
“I think I can handle it.”
“Consider yourself warned.”
He took another huge bite and chewed with a nod.
I sighed, setting my fork down. I wasn’t going to get away keeping the full story from him. “My father arranged for me to marry Ray Hamish. We were supposed to be married next month. Ray was affectionate. Much too affectionate, as it turns out.” Pushing my food around on the plate, I hesitated to continue. Gavin was a stranger; he didn’t need to know my life story. Let alone parts of it I was too embarrassed or ashamed to tell.
“He pushed for intimacy sooner than I expected. He said it would be fine since we were getting married. Well, one time turned into two, and then we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, and…” I couldn’t tell him the rest. Not now.
He swallowed back his bite, and when he didn’t say anything, I knew I was expected to continue.
“When a girl who has been sheltered from men her entire life and taught purity culture is faced with a situation like that, she’s not prepared. At all.” I was all too aware that I was telling the story like it wasn’t my own, but somehow, distancing myself from it made it easier. “So, I guess, in short, I’m running away from pressures I wasn’t prepared for.”
But there was one thing I couldn’t run away from.
One thing that would follow me no matter how far I went. It was the reason I needed to distance myself from Ray as fast as I could. The baby in my womb may have been only a whisper of life inside me, but it depended on me. And that meant not letting a manipulative and cruel man like Ray anywhere near me.
“How old are you, Ellie?” Gavin asked, looking at me another with another fork over-wound with spaghetti at the ready.
“Twenty-three.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re running away because your fiancé wanted to have sex with you?” He snickered a little as he asked.
