Chapter 9
JESS
“I said I’d bring breakfast to you, Jess.”
Startling at the sudden sound of Kane’s voice, the coffee mug jumps in my hand, sloshing steaming coffee over it. I grimace at the sting of pain, but quickly try to school my expression as I turn away from the counter to face him.
Apparently, I didn’t do a very good job, because Kane’s face immediately creases with concern. “Jess!” He rushes across the kitchen. “Shit. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m okay.” I set the mug down and take a few tentative steps towards the sink; my injured feet protesting with each movement. “It’s no big?—”
But my thoughts fracture into a chaos of sensation as Kane scoops me into his arms, cradling me against his very broad and firm chest. “Your feet are hurt,” he tells me sternly. “You shouldn’t be walking around on them yet. ”
Lifting me higher, he carries me the rest of the way to the sink and deposits me on the counter.
Then he turns on the cold water and holds my still-stinging hand under it.
As the water chases away the pain, he bends his head to inspect my reddened skin, peering at it with the intensity of a surgeon.
With his head bowed close to mine, I can see the glints of bronze and copper threaded through his hair, accentuated by the morning sun streaming through the window. The light catches the strong angles of Kane’s features, casting his face with a golden glow.
After ten seconds or so, he removes my hand from the water and lightly brushes his thumb across the back of it. “I think it’ll be okay,” he finally proclaims after another inspection. “But it couldn’t hurt to put some ice on it. Just to be safe.”
I’m torn between insisting I’m okay—which I am, the pain is mostly gone—or allowing Kane to keep taking care of me. I love this feeling of being cared for; something I’ve desperately missed ever since my mom got sick and our roles were reversed. But I’m also afraid of getting too used to it.
Yes, Kane has been wonderful since he brought me back to his house last night.
Carrying me everywhere, getting me all set in the guest room with everything I could possibly need, and checking on me at regular intervals all through the night, adorably peeking his head into the room while he thought I was sleeping and once, even coming over to the bed and gently tucking the covers around me.
But it’s only temporary. That’s what I need to keep reminding myself of. Kane invited me here because it was a quick solution, rather than trying to find a hotel room well after midnight. In someplace like New York City, it would be easy, but in our little town? Not so much.
So I’m thankful he invited me here. And I believed him when he said he wanted me to stay. But soon enough—once Kane’s friend, Grant, gets my windows fixed—I’ll be back home, alone and dealing with things on my own again.
It would be smarter not to get used to this. I know it. Because despite what Kane said about being his girlfriend, which I’m still not convinced he meant, dating is a far cry from living together. Especially when we haven’t been together that long.
Forcing a smile, I say, “I’m fine, Kane. Really. It was just a little hot coffee.” Then I start to wriggle off the counter, already bracing myself for the flare of pain when my feet hit the ground. “And I didn’t want you to worry about making breakfast for me. I?—”
His big hand cups my shoulder, holding me still. “Where are you going?”
“Um. I’m getting off the counter?”
“What did I say about not walking too much, Jess?” And in a move straight out of a romance movie, he sweeps me back into his arms and carries me effortlessly into the living room before carefully setting me down on the couch.
Then he sits beside me and takes my feet into his lap.
His face clouds with worry as he checks the bandages the paramedics put on last night.
The gauze is still a crisp white, but he doesn’t look happy about it.
“Jess,” he continues, “you could have reopened one of the wounds. Especially if you jumped off the counter like you were about to.”
“I was being careful,” I protest.
“But, Jess.” His eyes are dark with worry as they meet mine. “I told you I’d bring you breakfast in bed. Why didn’t you wait for me?”
Honestly? Because I felt guilty. As I lay in bed, watching the sun inch its way above the horizon, I kept thinking of all the ways I was putting him out.
Forcing him to stay up hours later than normal after an already long day of work.
Staying at his house and throwing off his regular routine.
Being the reason he kept getting up to check on me instead of getting some well-needed sleep.
How could I ask him to wait on me when he’d done so much already?
“I woke up early,” I explain. “And I know you said to text when I got up, but I didn’t want to interrupt your sleep. It’s not like it’s that far from the bedroom to the kitchen, anyway.”
Kane stares at me for a few seconds, thoughts working in his eyes.
Then he sighs heavily, and his shoulders sink.
“Are you regretting agreeing to stay here? If you didn’t want to…
” His lips pull down. “I’m sorry, Jess. I was worried about you, and I just wanted to make sure you were someplace safe.
But maybe I pushed too hard. If you want to find a hotel room instead, I’ll make it happen. ”
Seeing his dejection makes my heart twist. Grabbing his hand, I say, “No. It’s not that. You didn’t push me. And I don’t regret coming here.”
“Then what is it?” A rare flash of uncertainty moves across his face. “Did I do something wrong? Should I have—” He stops. Frowns. “Shit. Is this about me checking on you last night? Did I creep you out? I just wanted to make sure you were okay. But?—”
“You didn’t. It was…” My chest flutters. “It was nice. That you wanted to check on me.”
“Was the breakfast in bed thing too much?” he asks. “It just seemed to make sense, so you could rest your feet a little longer…”
“I felt bad,” I blurt out. “After everything you’ve done for me already; going to my place after your shift, staying there for hours, bringing me here… I didn’t want to ask you to do more.”
Confusion wrinkles his brow. “But Jess. You’re my girlfriend. Of course I’d do all those things for you. You should never—” He stops. Hesitates. “Did I mess up last night? Calling you my girlfriend? I know it was probably the worst possible time to bring it up.”
“You didn’t mess up.”
“Then what?”
My stomach knots with anxiety. What if I tell him my fear only to have it confirmed? If he realizes that he didn’t mean it, and he only called me his girlfriend impetuously?
Then again.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he really meant it. And I’m not being fair to him by just making assumptions based on my own insecurity.
“I was afraid you didn’t mean it,” I admit. “That you only said it because you were worried. And this morning you might be regretting it.”
Kane blinks. A moment later, understanding fills his gaze.
Then he lifts me onto his lap and kisses my forehead.
“Sweetheart. I absolutely meant it. I know we haven’t been dating long, but there’s just something that feels right with you.
I’ve never been in a hurry to call anyone my girlfriend before.
Shit. I’ve never wanted to have a girlfriend, period.
But with you? It’s different. I want everyone to know you’re mine. ”
“Yours?”
His cheeks go pink. “Not like I own you. I would never think that. But I want to be the one you go to. If you need help. If someone’s messing with you. If you just want to talk. Anything, Jess. I want to be that person for you.”
Warmth blossoms inside me, along with a floaty, cautious sort of hope. “I’d like to be that person for you, too.”
Kane smiles; his face lighting up with it. “I’d like that, Jess.” Then he bends his head to brush his lips across mine. “So you’re my girlfriend?”
I kiss him back, lingering for a few moments to nibble and tease his lips. “Yes. I am.”
As we look at each other, I feel another weight lifting off me. The crushing sorrow from last night doesn’t feel quite as suffocating. And I start to think that everything just might be okay.
“Jess.” He frames my face with his hands and kisses me again. Sparks of joy and desire radiate through my body, traveling to parts that have been in hibernation for years. “My beautiful girlfriend.”
Oh.
He’s called me beautiful before, but I never really believed it.
But the way he says it, his expression earnest and his gaze soft but steady on mine …
Maybe he really does think I’m beautiful.
Maybe, for the first time in seventeen years, I’ve found someone who sees past the scars and the mistakes of my past.
Hugging me close, Kane’s lips press to the top of my head. His heart thuds hard against me. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmurs. “I was so worried.”
A chord twangs in my chest, exquisitely sweet and painful at the same time. “I was scared,” I admit quietly. “All I wanted was you.”
His arms convulse around me. “Ah, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I wish I’d been there.”
“No, it’s not your fault.”
A sigh, and then, “Maybe not. But, Jess. I’m not letting anything like that happen again. It can’t.” Expression sobering, he adds, “We need to make a plan. For going forward. You know that, right?”
My chest squeezes. “What are you thinking? More security at my house?”
“Well, yes. But that’s not all.”
“What else, then? I can’t afford to stay at a hotel for more than a couple of days. Eventually I have to go home. And what’s to stop someone—” My mouth clamps shut at the stormy look on his face. “Anyway. I’m not sure what else I can do.”
“It’s not so much what you can do.” Kane pauses. “It’s what everyone else can.”
“Everyone else?”
A beat later, I realize what he’s thinking. And I’m already shaking my head. “Kane, no. I don’t want to get Nora involved.”