Page 30 of Make Me Trust Again
“Of course.” She gives Dad a pointed look. “Maybe I’ll even manage to convince your father to take a day off from work. We could take Kyle to the pool for a change.”
Dad and I exchange a knowing look, biting back a laugh.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He hugs me as well. “You sure you don’t need help settling in?”
“We’ll be fine. It’s not that much stuff.”
Dad pats me on the shoulder. “Okay, if you need anything, just call.”
My parents say goodbye to Kyle, who’s been playing on his tablet in the truck, and I slide into the driver’s seat. My stomach feels tight with nerves as I look in the rearview mirror at my childhood home and my parents, who are standing there watching us. Fear and excitement mix together inside my belly. Somehow, I was even more nervous now than I was the day I moved away for college. But back then, I thought I knew what was waiting for me. If only that girl could see me now.
Swallowing the knot inside my throat, I start the car and get on the road. My fingers are tightly squeezing the steering wheel, my palms sweaty with nerves as I drive through the town and away from the center, until we finally get on that tiny gravel road, and the big house slowly comes into view from between the trees.
There is nobody in sight, so, once again, I park my truck in front of it and unbuckle my seatbelt. When I turn around, I find a wide-eyed Kyle looking at the house.
“Is this our new home?”
A strangled laugh escapes me. Last night when I got home from work, I sat him down and explained how we’d be moving out of my parents’ place and into one of our own—a home, just for the two of us.
The scowl between Chase’s brows flashes in my mind.
This is only temporary.
Kyle finally shifts his gaze to me.
“No,”I shake my head.“It’s a smaller house close by. Stay here. I’m going to ask for the key, okay?”
Kyle nods, his gaze once again glancing at our new surroundings.“’kay.”
Opening the door, I slide out and smooth my sweaty palms over the skirt of my dress.
You can do this, Rose.
Walking up to the porch, I lift my hand and press the doorbell. The sound rings loudly inside the house. I bite the inside of my cheek as I wait for a while. I expect to hear footsteps, but there are none. I’m just about to ring the bell again when the door suddenly pulls open, and Chase’s naked chest fills the doorway.
Holy shit.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of him. He’s only dressed in a loose pair of sweatpants that are barely holding on to his narrow hips. The firm, tanned skin is on display, muscles honed to perfection. He isn’t too bulky, not like John is with his endless hours spent in the gym. No, Chase’s muscles are leaner, defined by life and hard work. A sheer layer of sweat covers his skin along with some dust. It shouldn’t be sexy, but there is justsomething about a man who’s capable of doing work around the house that apparently does it for me.
Get a grip, Rose, and stop ogling the man.
I blink, my tongue darting over my lower lip.
That’s when I notice them.
The scars.
Horror washes over me as I just stare at them. The damage is extensive, covering the better part of his body. I take them all in, trying to wrap my head around how this happened. Fine pink and white lines crisscross over his flesh, but there are other scars, mostly on his right side, deeper ridges in his skin, angry red flesh patched together, leaving a permanent mark.
Who could have done something like this?
But it isn’t a who, is it?
It’s awhat.
War.
“The cottage is out back,” Chase all but growls at me.
