Page 22 of I Knew You
It had changed, and I hadn’t been there to stop it.
I picked up things to move my body and use my hands. I could feel myself unraveling, alarm washing over me, and my extremities tingling. I was prone to intense anxiety and panic attacks, and I needed a plan, something to ground me.
There was still daylight left, so I began to carry in armloads of clothes, toiletries, and packed food. Everything else I’d leave in the truck overnight. I quickly realized I shouldn’t have bothered bringing so many items from Charlotte. Every single cabinet and drawer was stocked with the best cookware and cutlery. I nearly fainted when I turned over the pots and pans to see Le Creuset stamps on the bottom. I’d never held such an expensive kitchen skillet.
I was unpacking personal items onto the bed in the primary bedroom when I heard a vehicle in the driveway. I ran to the bedroom across the hall and peeked through thewooden blinds. The view looked out onto the front lawn, and in the left corner, I saw part of a gleaming black truck beside the U-Haul.
I have a stranger in my driveway. Awesome.
I looked down at myself. I was sporting baggy, black fleece joggers that I’d dropped crumbs all over during the drive, along with a long-sleeved pink T-shirt that had “Nice Buns” and an illustration of Kallie’s bakery on the front. My hair was in some knot on top of my head, and although I’d slapped some foundation on that morning, I had sweated off most of it by that point.
I went on guard, but I would not let fear dictate my actions. The millennial inside me reiterated that I wasn’t required to open the door. Stranger danger was a thing. But they didn’t knock. They rang the fancy doorbell.
I tiptoed to the front of the living room, amazed at how silent the floors were now that they’d been replaced. I did a little crouching sidestep to the window beside the front door, and ever so slightly moved the soft white curtain to look out. One glimpse at his profile and I knew exactly who it was.
Bram Winchester.
He wore a worn navy baseball hat, a camel-colored Carhartt vest over a white long-sleeved shirt, and relaxed, dark jeans with scuffed-up work boots.
My pulse thrummed frantically in my ears, and my palms broke out in a sticky sweat. I gasped as I re-realized my state. Fifteen years apart, and this was what Bram would see? Chip crumbs and haphazard hair with no makeup?
Absolutely not.
Whit hadn’t contacted me since I texted him a few days ago. We’d had a pleasant text conversation, but he said nothing about Bram. Yet there Bram stood. Not a seventeen-year-old boy, but a man. A ridiculously attractive, full-grown man. One who hadn’t spoken one word to me since he left my heart andpride in pieces on a dim hospital room floor. Yet he came to see menow? Alone?!
You’re fifteen years too late, Bram Winchester.
“Open up, Julianna. I saw you look out. I know you’re behind the door.”
Shit!
The fleeting thought of pretending to be someone else fluttered through my mind. Not that the enormous moving truck in the driveway gave away my narrative. I rolled my eyes.
There was nothing left for me to do but face him.
I stood straighter and took a deep breath while shaking my hands out by my sides. Plastering on a huge smile, I opened the door.
“Dracula!” I exclaimed in a too-high-pitched voice, reaching for his old nickname, hoping it would show some familiarity without being too intimate. Intimacy was probably something he didn’t want. He might have been there under duress for all I knew.
His face flashed a bit of shock before it mellowed into a delectable grin.
“You never called me that,” he chided and then gave me a wink.
Time had been kind to him. He was even more handsome than he was so many years ago. He stood there confidently, his hands casually stuck in his pockets. I took in the short, trimmed beard along his angled jaw, his crinkled eyes, and his beautiful, welcoming smile. He’d aged like a fine wine and still had that cool casualty that made me want to melt down to my fuzzy socks.
Dear Lord, I’m wearing fuzzy socks.
My mouth gaped, not sure what to say next. I expected him to follow along in my artifice, say some polite greeting, and be a perfect Southern gentleman. But no, he had to come in with his honesty and charm, and I was veryunarmed. I wasn’t surprised, but I was shocked at the visceral way my body reacted to him, causing heat to rush to my cheeks.
A cold sweat broke out along my neck, and I willed my brain to form words.
“I thought I’d go for something you might not hear anymore, remind you of the old days.” I bit my lip and leaned my face on the side of the door.
Then he did the singularly most attractive thing he could have done. He leaned his tall form against the doorframe and rested his arm on its top.
If he’d ripped off his clothing right there, I’m not sure I would have had a different reaction than I did at that moment. Heat flooded me from head to toe, and I began to feel that telltale tug toward him, the same one that I had felt as a head-over-heels teenager.
It was maddening.
