Page 26 of King of Praise
“Hmm.” He studies me with the intensity that’s made him a successful leader. “Come have a drink at the club. We should celebrate tonight’s success.”
The invitation is genuine. Zeke’s pleased with how the meeting went. But exhaustion drags at me, and Naomi waits at the cabin. My silence must last too long because Zeke’s eyes narrow.
“Unless you have other plans?”
“Just tired.” The lie comes easily, necessary to protect Naomi’s location. “It’s been a long week.”
“It has.” He clasps my shoulder. “Get some rest. We have work ahead of us.”
I nod, already dreading the hour-long drive to Hocking Hills, longer in the dark when deer pose hazards on rural roads. But the distance is essential. Few people know about my property there, and fewer still would think to look for Naomi so far from the city.
As I drive through Columbus’s outskirts, watching city lights fade in my rearview mirror, I feel an excitement and eagerness I haven’t felt in years.
The familiar anticipation building in my chest catches me off guard. I haven’t felt this way about seeing someone in decades. Not since Sandra, and that ended in bitter disappointment.
Will Naomi be waiting up? The text suggested she’s at least thinking about me, but maybe exhaustion claimed her. It’s much later than I expected it to be before returning to her.
I picture her curled up in my bed, red curls splayed across the pillow, Powder nestled against her side. Or perhaps she’s still awake, watching the door like she did this morning when I left, those green eyes following my movements.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. She’s my daughter-in-law, for Christ’s sake. The woman my son abused. The woman who killed him in self-defense. I should be grieving Lucas, not anticipating seeing his widow.
But grief feels distant, overshadowed by this unfamiliar lightness in my chest. Each mile brings me closer to the cabin, to her, and I find myself pressing harder on the accelerator. The darkness parts before my headlights, revealing the empty road ahead.
I wonder if she feels any of this strange connection, or if I’m just a safe harbor in her storm.
Does she watch the clock, counting minutes until my return?
Does she feel this same pull, this inexplicable draw that defies logic and propriety?
She shouldn’t. I’m much too old for her, not to mention her father-in-law. But fuck me if I don’t hope she does.
The highway stretches dark ahead of me, trees crowding the shoulders. My headlights catch occasional reflective eyes of deer watching from the forest’s edge. I adjust my speed accordingly, my mind continuing to drift to the cabin and its occupant.
She’s half your age. Your son’s widow. Traumatized. Stop.
The rational arguments pile up, but they don’t change the fact that I notice things I shouldn’t. The grace of her movements as she bakes. How her eyes light up when she talks about her dreams of opening a bakery.
More than that, I notice her strength. The quiet determination that helped her survive Lucas’s abuse. The resilience that keeps her moving forward despite trauma and loss. The gentle heart that shows in small kindnesses. The way she talks to Powder, how she straightens my books after reading them, and her genuine concern when I return tired from meetings.
Focus on the road.I force my thoughts away from her and onto driving. The turn-off for the cabin approaches, gravel crunching under my tires. The security system I installed sends an alert to my phone as motion is detected at the perimeter. Good. Everything’s working as it should.
The cabin’s windows glow warmly in the darkness, smoke curling from the chimney. Home in a way my apartment in Columbus never felt. The thought brings both comfort and unease. Nothing about this situation is permanent. Eventually, Naomi will return to the city, rebuild her life. My role as protector will end.
As it should, I remind myself, parking beside the cabin. But the ache in my chest suggests my heart hasn’t gotten the memo.
The night presses close around me, stars brilliant above the trees. Somewhere in the distance, an owl calls. Everything feels right in this moment except the growing certainty that I’m falling for a woman I have no business wanting.
God help me.
I reach for the cabin door, pushing away thoughts of what comes next. For now, there is only this—a warm light in darkness, a safe harbor in storm. Whatever tomorrow brings, tonight I am exactly where I need to be.
My hand closes on the doorknob, and I take a deep breath, steeling myself for another night of careful distance and growing desire. The door opens, spilling light into darkness, and Naomi turns toward me with a smile that makes my heart stutter.
I am in so much fucking trouble.
Chapter 7
Boundaries Crossed
