Page 5 of Guarded from Havoc

This time, when he tilts his head for me to enter, I do. Once I’m inside, he closes and locks the door behind me. “Shit.” Heclicks the dead bolt off. “Habit,” he explains. “Locking the door. But if it makes you uncomfortable?—”

“It’s fine.” I reach past him to slide the dead bolt back into place. “Nothing wrong with being safe.”

Another too-stupid moment? Maybe.

But there’s that gut feeling again; telling me I can trust him.

Holding both my bags, Erik walks into the living room and sets them on the coffee table. After I shrug off my coat, he takes it from me, then takes a few steps away before giving it a sharp shake and hanging it on a coat hook by the door. “Do you want some towels?” he asks. Amusement tinges his voice. “Looks like the jacket didn’t help too much.”

I push my wet hair back from my face, inwardly wincing. Wonderful. I probably look like a drowned rat or something the cat dragged in; both sayings my dad loved to say whenever any of us would get caught in the rain.

By the time I wriggle out of my rain boots, Erik has everything laid out on the table. He flicks on two of the lanterns, adding a welcome source of light to the room.

Or maybe not so welcome, as I consider my drowned-rat status.

“Do you want to sit?” he asks. That’s when I belatedly realize he’s still standing beside the couch, undoubtedly waiting for me to sit before he takes a seat himself.

“Oh, yes, of course.” I perch carefully on the edge of the couch, trying not to let my damp jeans soak the fabric. “Sorry, I got a little wetter than I expected. I didn’t really go that far, just from my house to the car, and then from there to here…”

“It’s dumping out,” Erik says. He pauses. “I’m really surprised…” Another pause. “That sounds bad. I mean… I wasn’t expecting you to come over.”

My stomach squinches into a knot. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

Gah. Is it possible to self-immolate from embarrassment? This poor guy is just trying to enjoy some peace and I show up, forcing him into being social.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m glad you did. It was so thoughtful. Leaving your comfortable house to drive through the rain to help me. You didn’t need to do that, but I appreciate it. Truly.”

“Are you sure? I can leave.”

“I’m sure.” His smile expands, making that dimple in his left cheek dig deeper. “I came here thinking I wanted to be alone. Kind of a retreat, of sorts. Spend time on my own; hiking, taking photos, meditating—” His mouth clamps shut.

“Meditating?”

There’s enough light to spot twin spots of pink bloom high on his cheeks. Which is both sweet and sexy, if that’s possible. “More like mindful meditation,” he says. “Not humming while I sit with my legs crossed. More the find five things you can see, five things?—”

“You can hear,” I finish. “And five things you can feel. I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” I don’t exactly want to tell him I learned it from a meditation app I downloaded after everything went south with my ex. That seems like more information than necessary considering this is only our second conversation. So I settle on a vague, “I’ve tried it when I’m feeling stressed. Or anxious.”

Understanding darkens his gaze. Voice gentling, he asks, “Does it help? When you’re feeling that way?”

“Sort of. I like the tense and release better, I think. It feels more… tangible, I guess.”

Erik nods. “That’s a good one, too.” Pausing, his gaze moves from mine to sweep across the coffee table, taking in all the supplies I brought. “You brought all this food for me?”

“Well, I just thought if you were trying to cook and then the power went out, you might not be able to finish. And you’re such a big guy, I figured you must eat?—”

What am I saying?

I cast a quick glance around the room, wishing for a hole to dive into.

Erik chuckles. “I guess I am pretty big.”

“Stinky snickerdoodles,” I mutter.

“What?” His lips twitch. “Stinky snickerdoodles?”

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