Page 47 of Serve and Protect
“Yes, but none of his responsibilities are as important asyou. That boy has waited all his life for you.” She reaches up to boop my nose. “You remember that, young lady. A man who puts your needs first, over his own, is a keeper. Just like my George.”
“I won’t forget, I promise.” I kiss her again. “Sweet dreams.”
I walk out of her room, leaving the door open just enough so Pumpkin can come and go as he pleases.
When I return to the kitchen, Chris isn’t there. I double-check to make sure the door is locked before I go in search of him. It doesn’t take me long to find him in the guest bedroom, struggling to put his sling back on.
“Here, let me help you,” I say as I take it from him and untwist the straps.
“Thanks. It’s harder than it looks.”
I hold the sling for him so he can slip his right arm into it. “I imagine your shoulder hurts.”
“Yeah, it does.”
The fact he’s admitting it so readily makes me think it probably hurts a lot more than he’s letting on. “And you won’t take anything for the pain.”
“I’d rather not.”
I think it’s unnecessary for him to pass on over-the-counter painkillers, but I understand why he does it, and I won’t argue with him about it.
He winces when I cinch the sling in place.
“Then how about a glass of wine and a cold pack for your shoulder?” I ask. “That might help.”
He nods. “Sure, I think I can handle that.”
He follows me to the kitchen, where I pour us each a glass of red wine. Then I grab a bag of peas from the freezer and a linen hand towel.
We end up on the sofa in the living room. I wrap the bag of frozen peas in the linen towel and gently place it on his right shoulder. Then I hand him his glass of wine. He takes a sip and makes a face.
“You don’t like it?” I ask.
“I’m more of a beer guy.” Still, he takes a good swig, nearly emptying his glass before he sets it on the coffee table. “I’d like to spend the night again, if you don’t mind. I know Braggart’s behind bars tonight, but I don’t feel right leaving you two alone. I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom, of course. I just wanted to make that clear.”
If I’m disappointed about him choosing the guest room—which admittedly I am—I try not to show it. Just because we exchanged some words, as well as some kisses, doesn’t mean he’s ready for more.
“Granny asked if you’d be staying tonight. She’ll be pleased to see you’re still here at breakfast.”
“What about you, though? Areyouokay with me staying again?”
I nod. “Yes, I want you to.” Actually, I want a whole lot more than that, but I don’t think we’re there yet. I take a sip of wine and set my glass down next to his.
“About this afternoon—” I say.
“About earlier—” he says.
We both grow quiet, both of us smiling. At least we’re both thinking about it.
“Why is this so awkward?” I ask. “We’re both adults.”
“It’s because we waited so long. We let this go on far longer than we should.” He reaches for my hand. “Jennie, in case I haven’t been clear enough, I want you to know—I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I never stopped. Not even when I went away to school.”
It’s clearly time for honesty, for sharing long-held secrets and allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. “When you left for Phoenix, I was sure you weren’t coming back. I’d convinced myself you’d meet someone in Arizona and decide to stay.”
“I dated in college,” he admits. “I was hoping to meet someone who could take my mind off you.”
“Did it work?” I guess it didn’t, or he wouldn’t be sitting here beside me now.
