Page 64 of The Bombshell and the Bodyguard
“Too bad we can’t bring the baby grand,” she said. “I hope it doesn’t get damaged.”
“If it does, it’s replaceable.” I held up a thermos. “I found the coffee you made—thanks.”
She nodded. “Sure, no problem. If I’d known this was going to happen, I’d have made some breakfast for you, too. I wasn’t sure where you were. You weren’t here when I got up this morning.”
“Yeah, I, uh, slept on the boat.”
“Oh.” Jessica looked away at the window and then down.
Clearly our conversation from last night was still on her mind as well. The awkwardness between us was as thick as refrigerated peanut butter.
Well, we’d have an extended opportunity to clear the air. The storm was expected to last all day and through the night.
“Got everything?” I asked. When she nodded, I said, “Okay let’s go.”
She followed me down the stairs and through a short tunnel, up another set of steps, and into the storm shelter set into the stony hillside.
When I opened the door for her and she stepped inside, she gasped. “Oh. When you said storm shelter, I thought it would be some tiny little bunker with no headroom and a couple of folding chairs or something.”
I grinned widely. “Big storms suck—that doesn’t mean your storm shelter has to.”
My storm shelter was more on the luxury side of things. The ceiling clearance was high enough that I didn’t feel claustrophobic, even at six-foot-five.
Though it wasn’t large, the single room shelter contained a kitchenette, a small dining area, and a daybed that served as both a couch for daytime and an extra-long twin-sized bed for night.
Unfortunately, there was only one of those. Like I said, I’d never planned on bringing anyone here, and it was plenty big enough for me to sleep on alone a night or two.
As Jessica would be sleeping in it tonight, it looked like another night of bunking on the floor for me.
She walked around the space, exploring. “There’s a toilet,” she said with obvious glee as she peeked behind the only door in the room.
“There is. And a shower. And power—for now. Let’s hope that lasts. If not, that’s what the battery-powered radio and lanterns are for.”
Opening one of the small cabinets, I took out two coffee mugs and filled them from the thermos. Jessica took the one I offered her and went to sit on the daybed.
“Can I sit?” I gestured toward the other end of it.
She nodded, “Of course. It’s your bed. It’s your storm shelter.”
Then in a surlier tone, she added, “I’m just a client.”
I took a seat, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees.
It was easier to stare at the floor, but I forced myself to look at her.
“About that… I’m sorry. For what I said and thewayI said it. It wasn’t even true. You were never just a client, obviously. And I’ve always seen you as more than my best friend’s little sister. I’ve always seenyou,Jess.”
I paused. “You see me too... for who I really am. I think that’s why I freaked out on you last night. It scared me to realize how easily you could read me. I felt sort of like a cornered animal.”
“Did you forget I’ve known you as long as you’ve known me?” she asked softly. “I’m sure you didn’t realize it back then, but I paid close attention to you. I watched and listened, even when we were kids. Idoknow you, Wilder. I know you’re a good man—youareloyal, almost to a fault. So you don’t have to keep proving it over and over again. The people who know and love you...”
Here she stopped and swallowed. “... the people closest to you already know who you are. I’ve learned that’s all that matters. If you worry about what the rest of the world thinks, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”
“You’re right. I just...”
I looked down, took a breath, then met her eyes again. “I’ve struggled with it over the years. I left my football teammates to join the military. Then I was forced out of that before I was ready because of what my commanding officer did. It just hurts when I’ve been trying my best to be a loyal person to be accused of the opposite.”
“I know.”
