Page 12 of Fall Back
Jared chuckles as a look of fondness crosses his face. “At least what she cooked was always good.”
“It didn’t hurt,” I throw back and find myself really smiling for the first time since I realized he was late.
He hasn’t told me what held him up, but maybe he needs a moment. I’ve heard some horror stories from people as I tattoo them, but that can’t compare to what Jared does on a daily basis. I’ll wait until he’s ready to share.
After grabbing plates, we look over everything and fill them up. Instead of leading him over to the small table in what canonly be described as a breakfast nook, I head toward the living room and curl up in the corner of my couch. He follows suit and seems to sink back into the cushions like he’s letting some of the weight of the world roll off his shoulders.
We eat in silence, it’s both comfortable and easy. There isn’t the need to fill the space between us. It makes the room around us feel cozy, smaller, and more intimate. It doesn’t even make sense; but it’s true all the same.
Finishing at the same time, he takes my empty plate and puts them both on the coffee table before sitting back and his blue eyes, filled with an intensity that makes my stomach flip, lock onto me. The way our dynamic has changed should freak me out, but it doesn’t.
“Thank you for giving me a soft place to land tonight and for not pushing me to explain every detail,” he murmurs, his words weighted in a way which I can feel in my chest.
“You showed up and apologized without being guilted or prompted. That matters in my book,” I tell him honestly, seeing the stark difference between this situation and men in my past easily.
While nodding he rests back farther on the couch, his legs spread out before him. He doesn’t look close enough to touch, which is why I jump when he grabs my legs and maneuvers them until they’re draped across his lap. His hands are large and warm against my legs. If my pussy clenches from the contact, I certainly keep it to myself.
“There was an accident out on Route 12, practically on the county line,” his voice is resigned. “They had Arizona plates and were probably on vacation when they hit the deer.”
“Fuck,” I hold out the word knowing just how dangerous wildlife accidents are. They’re so common around here especially this time of year when deer start to migrate a little south before winter really sets in.
“Yeah,” he grunts.
When I look at him, his eyes are glazed over and I know it was worse than he’s letting on, not that he’s given details anyway. I move closer to him, practically crawling onto his lap, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
The way he leans into me, as if he needs me to carry some of the weight of it all, makes me feel needed. How long has it been since he’s been given support with all that he deals with?
Clarity hits me and I realize that I want to take care of him and be a place where he can, just like he said, land softly. Can I do it even knowing how dangerous his job is?
When his strong arms band around me and we melt into each other, I have my answer.
It won’t be easy; there are plenty of things working against us just because of who we are. But if we can find this in each other, isn’t it worth a try?
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. And I feel almost drunk on it.
My history with Dave almost slips past my lips, the need to be upfront and honest riding me hard, but I swallow them down. This is about him and he needs it more than I do.
There will be time for me to share all the details of why I ran back to Wintervale.
“They didn’t stand a chance,” he murmurs against where he’s buried his face against my neck, his words skittering along my skin and making me shiver even with the darkness he speaks of.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I whisper and squeeze him a little tighter.
“I’d rather be a witness than not,” he admits softly. “Someone has to be. It was awful and so much life was lost in a split second. We tried to help them, but it was just too late.”
I hold him so tightly against me that it almost feels like I’m trying to crawl inside of his chest. Would it be close enough?
His large hands run up and down my back as if he’s soothing me. It’s almost comical. “You’re a good man, Jared,” my words are husky, but clear and filled with conviction.
“I just want to do the badge justice.”
“You do,” it’s a promise and something more, something sacred.
“Thank you for listening to me,” he mutters against my neck after we’ve sat in silence just long enough that his words jolt me back to reality.
Was I thinking about this man stripping me naked? Nope, not even a little bit. That would be incredibly inappropriate.
“I’ll always listen.” I swallow hard and force the words past my lips, “Even if this date thing between us doesn’t work out, I’ll still listen.”
