Page 19 of Protecting Vidalia
“It’s really none of your business,” she replied curtly. Holding the door-knob, she waved a hand to usher him out. “I can deal with this on my own.”
Jake walked the few steps to the door and stopped to take her chin in his hand. “No, you can’t, you just don’t realize it yet. But I’m going to help you anyway, whether you want it or not.” Then he grinned lazily and moved his mouth in close. “You ready to kiss me yet?”
Vidalia was sorely tempted, in spite of his irritating avowal that he was going to help her. It kind of warmed her insides a little bit to know that he seemed to care enough to try.
“Ha! In your dreams.”
“It’ll be a reality soon enough,” he promised cheerfully. “Good night then, Vidalia. See you in a few hours.”
Vidalia didn’t watch him go this time.
***
JAKE WAS GLAD SHE DIDN’Twatch him go up the stairs. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep for a while. After throwing on a black t-shirt and his jeans and grabbing a blanket, he let himself out onto the deck of the cabin and slipped into one of the Adirondack chairs out front. It was a bit chilly, but not bad for May. He welcomed the cold fresh air to clear his senses.
Talking about Hamal didn’t bring the stabbing pain it used too. Like Vidalia, he hadn’t wanted to face the boy’s death, knowing he was responsible. It had been a grieving process he’d had to work through, to learn to forgive himself, and admit that there wasn’t anything he could have done to prevent it. And like Vidalia, he’d replayed it a thousand times or more in his mind and always came up with the same answer. He was past the nightmares and cold sweats stage every night, but the occasional dream would roust him from his sleep even now. Mostly, he just couldn’t get to sleep if his mind was determined to relive it again.
An occasional light mountain breeze tickled the leaves causing them to rustle like whispering voices in the trees. A small crack of a twig here and there signaled the night creatures like the raccoon and the foxes on the prowl. His Rocky Mountain home was as far removed from the dry sands of Afghanistan as you could get, its peace and beauty a balm to his tortured soul. Wrapped snugly in his blanket, he drank in the early morning calm, that time between midnight and dawn before the birds woke up, and found himself drifting off.
His thoughts traveled to Vidalia Minton. She was the first girl who had ever reached his protective, beat-your-chest instincts and tempted his libido into overdrive. Totally used to having her own way though, not to mention beautiful, proud and stubborn.
Too stubborn for her own good.
She needed someone just as stubborn who she couldn’t defy all the time and get away with it. He intended to be that man. He dozed lightly in his cocoon, yet still aware of every night sound in that somnambulant state.
It was the early morning birds chattering to each other as the sun began to send exploratory light beams into the shadows of the forest that began to fully wake Jake up. He leaned slightly to one side, relieving some of the pressure on his butt from the wooden slats of the chair and reveled in the warmth of his blanket cocoon while his nose was cold in the chilly air. Slowly he opened his eyes, a ritual he’d enjoy many a morning at his own cabin, to let the day say hello to his senses.
It was going to be a gorgeous day. A small ground squirrel jumped up on the deck and studied him, its little black eyes shining with curiosity as his furry head cocked from one side to the other. A noise from the cabin door startled it and it leaped from the railing and raced back up a nearby tree trunk.
The smell of coffee wafted up his nose as Vidalia stepped out on the deck and walked to the top of the steps. He watched her in her tight black yoga pants topped with a hot pink sweatshirt and brown house slippers with bear eyes and noses on her feet. Seriously?
He hadn’t taken her for the fuzzy slipper type, but then again, it spoke to him of a girlish side to her personality. Maybe she was giving out signals unconsciously that she wanted to be protected like a little girl. He was good with that, he thought, grinning to himself.
His eyes traveled up her long legs to the nicely rounded butt and on up to the lush fall of rumpled auburn hair below her shoulders, the sun catching the gleaming strands. Desire set his blood rushing to his manhood.
“Got any more of that coffee?” He asked, finally sitting up straight and letting the blanket fall away so he could stretch.
“Aiee,” Vidalia shrieked, dropping her coffee cup and whirling around. The brown liquid sloshed all over the bear nose on her right slipper when the cup shattered. “Where the hell did you come from? You could have told me you were out here,” she accused.
“I believe I just did,” he replied with a chuckle, rubbing his bristly chin and yawning. “You’re up early, it can’t even be 6:00 am yet.”
Vidalia snorted. “Look who’s talking. How long have you been out here?” She bent over to pick up the broken glass. The contents of the cup had already drained through the cracks in the decking.
“For a while,” he admitted. “You must really like fuzzy slippers,” he added, teasing her as she took the slipper off and shook out the coffee.
“Don’t be a hater. What’s not to like about fuzzy slippers?” She shot back at him. She headed for the door with the broken cup in one hand and the slipper in the other. “Since this is all your fault, why don’t you get a fresh cup of coffee for both of us.” She disappeared inside before he could comment.
With a chuckle, he stood up and glanced down at his own bare feet. Folding up the blanket, he took it inside and put on his tennis shoes before pouring them both some fresh coffee and taking it out to the table on the deck. The air was warming nicely with the sun chasing away the last dregs of the night shadows.
When Vidalia came out with pink bunny slippers he almost choked on his coffee. Between laughing and coughing he endured her cheeky stare.
“Having trouble with things going down the wrong hole?” She asked sweetly, crossing her legs and bouncing her foot.
“Uh...yeah...something like that,” he replied. “At least those match your sweatshirt.” She was definitely sassy this morning.
Her eyebrow arched and her pinkie went up in the air as she sipped her coffee. “Are you a fashion expert now?”
He sat his cup down and leaned towards her, his elbows on the table. “Those slippers do strange things to me,” he purred. “They make me want to cuddle you on my lap and rub the softness of the bunny fur...among other things.”
