Page 26 of A SEAL's Heart
We reach my front door, and I take out my key. Ed waits on the stoop as if he’s just dropped me off from a date.
“Goodnight.” I turn around to say goodnight and find Ed closer than I expected.
Ed grunts and brings a thumb up to my cheek. My hair’s gotten loose from its ponytail, and he takes a strand between his thumb and finger, then tucks it behind my ear. His thumb brushes my earlobe, and heat skitters across my skin.
I hold my breath, wondering if he’s going to kiss me.
He breathes in deep, then takes a step back, and the moment is gone. Of course he’s not going to kiss me. My teenage crush fantasies are getting in the way again.
I’m just the kid sister of his best friend who he’s seeing safely back into her house. No kiss required.
It’s only when I get upstairs and to my room that I realize I’m still wearing Ed’s sweater. I slip my bra off underneath and crawl into bed, letting the warmth and aroma of him send me off to sleep.
14
ED
Istand in the living area taking in the piles of boxes that take up the space in front of the bookshelf. Over the past week, Avery has helped clear out the living room, the kitchen, and the spare bedroom. I’ve gone through most of Jake’s gear stored in the attic, and tonight we’re tackling the only place left. Jake’s bedroom.
I hear footsteps outside and open the door before Avery can knock. She’s wearing my sweater and my gaze flicks down her body, taking in the way her breasts push up against the fabric and how it hangs over her legging-clad thighs. She tried to give it back, but I insisted she keep it. I like her in my sweater.
I open the door wide, and she follows me into the house.
“It was a good session today.”
She refers to the appointment I had with her at the clinic. I’ve been doing the exercises she gives me, but my damn tongue doesn’t move like it should. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever speak again and if that even matters.
I’ve been getting on fine without talking. I spend my days clearing land for Joel and listening to Marcus and Hudson’s banter.
It feels good doing physical work, and I don’t need my voice for that.
The evenings are spent with Avery clearing Jake’s things. Avery doesn’t seem to mind my silence, and I like listening to her chatter.
“I bought another outfit for Noah from Gina. Paige says he’s got enough, but it was just too cute.” She tells me about the baby booties, and I watch her talk. I enjoy hearing the smile in her voice and seeing the light in her eyes.
I fix a pot of coffee and pour it into two mugs, adding cream and sugar for Avery. I slide the mug in front of her and she looks down at it, stopping mid-sentence.
This is the routine we’ve gotten into. She comes in and chats to me about her day while I make coffee. Once the coffee is made, we get to work on Jake’s things.
But tonight she stares down at the coffee like she doesn’t want it. The light fades from her eyes, and her shoulders sag. She feels the same way I do about tackling Jake’s bedroom.
I take a step toward her and chuck my finger under her chin, tilting her head up so she has to look at me.
I want to tell her I’m here for her, that we’ll do it together, but my mouth can’t form the words. Instead, I move my hand to her shoulder and give it a squeeze.
She searches my face and must see the reassurance I’m trying to convey.
She takes a deep breath and picks up her mug. “Let’s do this.”
I follow Avery up the stairs and into Jake’s room. We pause on the threshold, and I take Avery’s hand. She glances up at me and her eyes are wet. I squeeze her hand, and we walk into the room together.
I haven’t been in here since I took over the house, and it smells musty. It’s a cool night, but I pull the curtains back and open a window to let in fresh air.
Avery sets her coffee down on a coaster on the bedside table and looks around. “Where do we start?”
I figure the wardrobe will be the least painful, so I pull open the doors. Jake’s clothes hang with military order, t-shirts to the left and pants to the right. A neat row of shoes sits on the bottom shelf, and a rucksack sits tucked into the corner.
“They can all go to Goodwill. It doesn’t feel right to auction his clothes.”
