Chapter 6
***** Johanna *****
Hours later, I’m sitting next to Chance, enjoying a cup of coffee, his silent company, and the beauty of the mountains.
The leaves are a mix of oranges, reds, and yellows as we head into fall, and the way the sunset is, it’s casting a gorgeous golden hue around us, making this place feel utterly surreal.
Personally, it was comforting, soothing, and calming here. I could see why Chance would find this spot to lick his wounds.
Maybe if I had known about it, I would have too.
“What do you do?”
I jumped slightly, causing him to chuckle.
“Not funny. I wasn’t expecting you to talk and I was enjoying the solitude, thank you very much.” I took a sip of my coffee, savoring it before answering. “I’m a blogger. It’s a great source of income and it’s a great sense of independence. I can also do it anywhere.”
“What do you blog about?”
“Different things. I did a series on grief after Johnnie died. It actually helped. Done a series on vacations, being solo, and the horrors of dating. I have different things, but mostly it’s what comes to my mind.
I’m not famous or anything like an influencer, but I have quite a few subscribers and it pays my bills. ”
“Huh.”
I glanced over at him; my brow raised in a silent question. Usually not the response I get when I tell people that, but I shouldn’t be surprised since it was him.
“Huh, what?”
“Never thought about that being a job. But I guess if people seek answers or help, or even have questions, it’s a good gig.”
“It really is. I have die hard fans who always await my next blog with bated breath, or so they tell me. I guess, to me, it’s my way of helping others.”
“I like the thought.”
I took another sip of coffee, watching him over the rim. The details I received about Johnnie’s death were limited, and I still hadn’t gotten much out of Chance. I didn’t want to dwell, didn’t want that to be the only thing between us, but I had so many questions.
“Why did you choose to isolate yourself after his death?” I asked.
“Big questions, I see.”
“Just curious, Chance. You don’t have to tell me. Grief is hard and hits everyone differently. But you’re still a strong, good looking, smart, young man. You have a lot to offer people, not just the ladies.”
“No, on that Johanna, you’re wrong. Your son’s death aged me.”
“It did it to me too, you know. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to be a hermit.”
I watched him again, seeing the look on his face. He has to have at least guessed I was going to be asking questions. I mean, I am worried about him, as I'm sure his own mother would be.
And that thought made me pause.
I was old enough to be his mom. I didn't feel like it, not after all we had done, but it still sat odd for me. Did he see me as an older lady at all?
“I tried saving him, did you know that? I was flying with him when his plane malfunctioned, and he clipped his wing. He crashed, and the plane ignited so fast. I jumped out of my own plane, hauling ass to get to him, but the flames were too intense. I burned my body, as I'm sure you noticed.”
“I did. And I figured you had. They said someone tried saving him but would have died himself.”
“I had enough smarts to know I couldn't go in. When the rescue squad came, I was out cold from the fumes. And when I awoke, they had informed me that he didn't burn to death; he was already dead. When he crashed….,” he trailed off, not needing to tell me anymore.
I could read between the lines, especially with the little that I was told. I'm only glad he didn't suffer. That would have been far worse for me to deal with.
“When I got back stateside, I had to learn how to cope without my best friend, but also back to being a civilian. I also had to learn how I wasn't to blame. That wasn't the worst part because I still haven't gotten there.”
I set my mug down so fast that liquid spilled over the sides, and I climbed onto his lap, my hands cupping his cheeks.
“None of this is your fault, Chance.”
“I was flying with him, I could-”
“No,” I told him firmly, cutting him off. “He was my son, and I loved him dearly, but there is no one to blame for this. He loved to fly; it's all he ever wanted to do, and nothing that day would have kept him out of the cockpit. Had you done something, you could have been just as lost.”
He looked in my eyes, his hands holding onto my arms.
“If Johnnie's mom doesn't blame you, why should you blame yourself?” I questioned.
I could see the internal fight. He wanted to believe what I was telling him, for the sake of his own sanity, his own well-being.
But I also understood his pain and suffering, and his mindset.
I could also understand how he withdrew and how he felt that no one would understand him, no one would be able to deal with his twisted feelings.
More importantly, I could see how that was the basis of his nightmares. His sense of failing was only his problem, though, one I know he could work through.
“It's logical,” he whispered, making me smile.
“It's more than that, and you know it. But I can see you, can see the truth in your eyes. This tore you up so much more than you admitted to anyone, Chance. Let it go now.”
Before I could blink, he leaned forward, his lips against mine, and I moaned.
Countless moments later, he pulled back, his arms wrapping around me and lifting me with ease.
“Shower,” was all he said.
***** Chance *****
I wasn’t sure why I wanted to wash her, but I did. I had such an urge, it almost terrified me.
But I knew that if she left, this would be a memory that I’d want. And after the tears of the last few days, hell, it felt longer than that, I felt that a washing would be helpful. That it would be a cleansing, almost.
And being able to spoil her like that was something beautiful to me.
So, I easily carried her to my bedroom and to the bathroom, setting her down on her feet, then slowly taking her clothing off of her. I took her all in.
One could not peg her as pushing forty. She looked far too good for her age.
“You don’t have to do this,” she told me.
“I know I don’t have to, Johanna, but I want to.
Just give me this. If you leave, I want something beautiful beyond all the mind-blowing sex.
” I looked at her closely, seeing her wince, but over what I wasn’t sure.
I don’t think it was the comment about the sex because she started part of that too, so I could only deduce it was the part about her leaving.
Did she not want to leave?
Did I not want her to leave?
Truthfully, no, I didn’t.
“I think we have lots of beautiful moments.” She cupped my cheek, lifting me up. “I think I want many more, too. Starting with now.”
With that, she lifted my shirt, stripping me with the same care I stripped her. She tossed the clothing, her hands running over my chest and scars.
I turned the water on, warming up the bathroom, then helped her step in.
“This feels nice,” she murmured, closing her eyes to enjoy it.
I ran the wet cloth over her shoulders and her back, massaging her as I went along.
“We talked about me, what about you? Johnnie has been gone for a year and a half, why didn’t you date?”
Her head fell forward, the water dropping down, as I ran my hand over her back. She sighed, rolling her shoulders under my touch.
“I don't have a true, honest answer for that. I pushed myself to live and my friends helped. But I guess, I don't know, to me, men wanted more than I could give. I know Johnnie wanted me to find happiness, but I guess finding someone who understood me was hard.
“I don't like to be smothered and I'm fine with mixing things up.
Date nights in are wonderful things, and simple can be better.
Most men don't want all of that. When I went out, I was told I was too high maintenance.
Not in the money way, but in being all over the place with how I was or what I wanted.
“I guess to put it simply, I'm a huge mood person. And men didn't like that. So, even after he passed, being just me seemed easier.”
“I don't think you're complicated. I can see when talking is something you want or when peace seems a better option. I can see when you need to vent and when you don't. And that's pretty sad to say when I've known you for such a short time when others could probably know you more.”
She glanced at me over her shoulder, a smirk playing along her lips.
“Maybe, oh I don't know, we just belong together.”
I couldn’t help but lift a brow at her because I really didn’t know what to say.
Part of me really loved the idea of her being in my space, and that was so uncommon. In fact, I’m sure that would probably floor a lot of people.
But at the same time, I was just coming to grips with everything, just learning how to cope. Although, she was a major part of that.
I was told that a doctor could help me, but maybe I didn’t need that.
Maybe I just needed someone who understood me, how I felt, but in a different way. Who had their own isolation and didn’t really want to live that way anymore.
I turned her around, letting my heart talk now rather than my mind. I cupped her cheeks, pulled her closer, and grinned.
“I think, Ms. Ridge, you might be right, I do think we belong together.”
With that, I kissed her. Not deeply, not passionately, but just with my heart. My lips brushed hers, featherlight but full of emotion, before they settled along hers.
And the expression of stealing one’s breath, yeah, that totally happened.
She wasn’t my first kiss, of course, like I doubt I was hers.
But it’s the first kiss that felt real, that felt powerful.
It was the first kiss that I felt jumpstarted my heart, and it’s the last kiss I ever wanted to have with someone.
We stayed that way for countless moments, just kissing, just breathing in the same air, and it was perfect.
It was romantic.
It was something I wanted from here on out.
Screw knowing her for such a short time.
Screw knowing that she was almost sixteen years older than me.
Screw the fact that she had a life someplace else.
I wanted her here, with me, for all time.
She said she could pack up; she could work from anywhere.
I had more than enough space for her if she wanted.
She finally broke the kiss, her nails running along my back and spine, and somehow, over the course of the last twenty-four plus hours, she captured my heart.
“Do you know,” she started quietly, her eyes locked with mine, “how unique you are. And how amazing and seen you make me feel?”
“I swear, Johanna, you need to be seen. You’re too damn perfect not to be.” I swallowed hard because it was now or never. “I want you to move in with me, stay with me. I think we’re just perfect for each other.”