Page 18 of Zeppelin
“I know it’s not very comforting, but my mom told us all after my grandpa died that pain is just love that feels different. It hurts so much inside because you can’t get the love out anymore. It’s hard to process.”
“My processor was defunct to begin with.”
At last, it’s an attempt at humor. “Well, you never know when that stuff is going to come back online.”
I gather the blanket around him tightly and turn, tugging him along with me. I wouldn’t be able to move him if he didn’t want to come, but I’m getting anxious to get him warmed up.
“If you’re looking for a physical outlet, you could always take your frustrations out on a very large garden, or I don’t know… maybe do some jobs here. I believe there’s an abandoned property that needs to be fixed up.”
He snorts. It’s a sound of derision, but also grudging respect, not a wheeze because he’s caught pneumonia out here. “You’re quite confident you’re getting that house.”
“Yes.” There’s no other response. I know the condition of it. I know how much work my dad’s poured into it over the years. I know what a treasure it is for my family. “When we’re ready to do the work, will you come out and help? I mean, if you have the time?”
I don’t turn and examine his face. By charging toward the house, pulling him along by the blanket wrapped around him like a sling, I can hide my own hope. I’ve never found it veryhard to remain unattached and neutral in the past. I knew what I wanted.
Maybe it’s the opposite because I know what Idon’twant and what I can’t have.
Maybe it’s the freaking crazy hormones that are starting to truly be all over the place. They’re turning me into a sappy, sucky, needy mess.
“Do you want me to be there?”
I full stop so fast that the blanket goes slack and Zeppelin’s hand slams into the small of my back. As quick as his flat palm hits, his fingers curl around my hip to keep me from pitching forward.
My pulse goes wild at my neck, echoing my pinging heart.
“I’d truly appreciate all the help I can get.” It’s a very non-committal response, but I think that’s what we both need.
It’s a yes without getting too deep. We’re not ready to go there.
“I’ll find the time.”
It sounds like an oath, like we’regoing thereanyway.
I never take the easy way out, but I need to bow out and evade. “Before we talk about any of that, you need a hot shower, strong coffee, and a change of clothes. I’m sure Gabe has something I can find you until I get yours washed and dried.”
“Can I order up a double serving of bacon and eggs while I’m at it?”
I smile far wider than I should. There’s no way my chest should feel this light. It does, though. It really does. “Of course.They’re fresh eggs and it’s our own bacon, so it’ll probably be like nothing you’ve ever tasted.”
Chapter 6
Zeppelin
What the fuck is this?
I’ve mentally prepared myself, trying to come to terms with Ginny living in that old house on her family’s property like a mountain man or a survivalist, but seeing it in person is something else.
Her dad and brother spent the past two weeks working hard cleaning the house until it was spotless. They did what basic repairs they had time for, and it’s been filled with antique and thrifted furniture. I know this because Ginny’s kept me updated, texting me daily, it might have just been the odd sentence, but I could just tell how every word was written with feeling and drenched in excitement.
She sent me two photos of the house, taken from the road. She said she has photos of the inside, but she wanted it to be a surprise.
There’s normally a bunch of club stuff going on during the weekends, but this one is pretty quiet. Ginny asked if I’d like to come out and see the place. I might have answered a bit too quickly, because whether I want to admit it or not, it’s been on my mind. Well… Ginny’s been on my mind. I tell myself that it’s just because I owe it to Jack to watch over her. But I know that’s a pile of shit, because the longer I spend in her company, the more I see her as someone I want in my future, and not as an obligation to my dead brother.
The guys at the garage have noticed that I’m distracted at work, making stupid ass mistakes here and there. At the club, they’ve made jokes about me going quiet. No one’s been mean. They get it. I’m not the same person now that my brother is gone.
Point is, it’sevident.
Ginny drove us over here in her Tacoma. Jamming my massive body into the tiny truck was so unpleasant that I wished I would have just followed her on my bike.
