Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
ENZO
This is not the time to think about Winter that way.
I should not be thinking about how beautiful she looked last night—how her face lit up each time she laughed and the way her eyes sparkled as we quoted lines from the movie together and how the dim light in the room set off the delicate lines of her features.
And I probably shouldn’t be thinking about how sweet she looked when she fell asleep halfway through the movie, all snuggled into the pillows with her hair falling over her face and the cutest little pout on her lips.
But it felt good, knowing she trusted me enough to let down her guard. Not that I didn’t want her to feel comfortable sleeping upstairs, but watching her sleep struck a chord in me. It jolted all my protective instincts into overdrive.
I could have woken her up and encouraged her to try sleeping in the bedroom again, or I could have gone to my room and left her alone on the couch. But neither felt right. So I moved over to the recliner and spent the rest of the night there, wanting to be close in case she woke up scared or confused about where she was.
She slept better than I expected; getting in a few solid hours before she jerked awake on a startled gasp, like she’d yanked herself out of a nightmare. But she covered it up quickly, forcing one of those fake smiles that make me desperate to make it a real one instead.
I’ve never felt like that before, either. Like I’d do anything to make a woman happy.
Not just any woman, though. Winter.
But I’m just here as her friend and protector. That’s all.
It doesn’t matter if I think Winter is beautiful and brave and I wish like anything I’d manned up and asked her out months ago instead of trying to ignore how I felt about her.
Winter is dealing with a shit-ton of trauma and her asshole ex is still out there and keeping her safe is my priority. If I can make her happy in all that, even better. And maybe, once all this is over and she’s settled back into normal life again, then I can ask her out.
In the meantime, there are things to deal with. Things like increasing security and following up with the police and convincing Winter she should stay here instead of going back to that awful motel.
But first, breakfast.
After doing a deep dive into my fridge and cabinets, I find enough food to make scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage that only has the tiniest bit of freezer burn. And coffee, of course, though all I have is a container of powdered creamer that’s still a few months short of its expiration date.
Shit. I really need to do a better job of grocery shopping.
I’m just cracking the eggs into a bowl when Winter comes into the kitchen and my heart gives an uneven lurch.
The sun streams through the windows and catches her dark hair, transforming it from the rich chestnut of last night into a molten blend of copper and gold and burnished bronze.
There’s more color in her cheeks than there was yesterday, and the shadows under her eyes have faded.
She’s wearing a pair of jeans that are just tight enough to show off the sweet curve of her hips, and her feet are adorably bare. I never thought about a woman’s feet before, honestly, but they’re small and cute and there’s just something about seeing her walking into my kitchen like she’s made herself at home…
Even from across the room, her eyes are a brilliant green, and they brighten as she meets my gaze. She sniffs, and even the way her nose crinkles is cute.
Shit.
Just friends , I sternly remind myself. She’s been through a lot. Don’t even think about anything other than friendship right now.
“Do I smell coffee?” Like a magnet drawn to its complement, she makes a beeline across the kitchen and toward the Keurig. She looks at my mug of coffee longingly and a hint of sadness darkens her eyes.
“Do you want some?” I spin the carousel with an assortment of coffee pods in it. “I’ve got Columbian, French Roast, Sumatran, espresso roast…”
Winter stares at the pods for a second. “I haven’t had coffee in ages,” she admits quietly. “I wasn’t allowed.”
Oh . It’s a sledgehammer slamming into me, stealing my breath.
Several thoughts hit me at once.
I want to kill Thomas. Not just hurt him. Kill him for what he did to her.
I want to rush out and buy cartons of coffee for Winter. Enough to last her for years.
And I want to hug her. Take away the sad look in her eyes and make them sparkle again.
But I don’t do any of those things. Instead, I take Winter’s hand and gently squeeze it, then say, “You can have as much coffee as you want. And I’ll buy more today. Any kind you want.” As her lips lift, I add apologetically, “I only have powdered creamer, since I don’t use any myself. But I’ll get some.”
The tiny smile grows into a bigger one. “This is fine, Enzo.” She plucks out a Columbian brew and pops it into the machine. “I like my coffee plain, too.”
Once her coffee is made, I have Winter sit at the island while I continue preparing breakfast. As she sips her coffee, she lets out these little sighs and moans of pleasure that make me really glad I’m on the opposite side where she can’t see below my waist.
“I was thinking,” she says. “Kind of worrying, really. About my bills. Everything was set up on autopay, and I had a decent buffer in my account, but… it’s got to be running low. I need to figure out some kind of work.”
Shifting my thoughts about her eyes and body and those innocently seductive moans, I shift into problem-solver mode. As I pour the eggs into the skillet and set the heat on low, I say, “You do graphic design, right?”
“Yes.” A pleased look moves across her face. “You remembered?”
“I remember everything you told me.”
She takes another sip, and this time I think I can see Winter hiding a smile behind her mug. “Well. I did do graphic design. I have—had—my own boutique company. I ran it all online, except for a few clients that really liked to meet face-to-face. But then… you know. I basically disappeared. My clients must have gone to other companies by now.”
Crap. I want to tell her no, but she’s probably right. Still… there has to be a way to help. “Do you think some of the clients, if you explained…”
“Some of them. The older ones. They might, if they haven’t committed to another company by now. But even so, it’ll take time. And I don’t even know if my computer…” She grimaces. “I haven’t been back to my house. Not since… but I wouldn’t be surprised if Thomas stole my computer. Sold it.”
Shit.
Gritting my teeth, I take a moment to swallow down my anger before replying, “I could help. I’ve got a computer you could use.”
“That’s really nice of you,” Winter starts, “but I use a Mac, and it has some expensive programs, and…”
Damn. I didn’t think about that. My five-year-old HP laptop that I use for email and bills isn’t going to be capable of the kind of things Winter needs it to do. But. Alec, on the other hand…
“Actually, I think I could figure something out. My friend Alec—he used to serve at Fort Campbell with me, but on a different Green Beret team—he lives one town over. And he owns a security company; installs surveillance cameras, alarms, stuff like that. He’s a whiz with computers, and I know he has extras for company use. If I ask, I’m sure he’d lend you one.”
Or if he doesn’t have the right kind of computer, I’ll buy it and Winter doesn’t need to know.
“Oh, that seems like a lot to ask, Enzo. He doesn’t even know me.”
“Winter.” I move the pan off the heat so the eggs don’t burn. “These are guys I served with. They’re more than just friends. I would trust them with my life. Or what we used to say in the Army; I trust them to have my six. I’d do anything for one of them, and they’d do the same for me. If Alec can help, he will. There’s no question about it.”
Her brows wing into a little V as she thinks. “If you’re sure he wouldn’t mind…”
“I’m sure. And that reminds me. He’s going to stop by this morning to discuss adding some security here. So you can meet Alec, and I’ll text him to ask if he has a computer he can bring.”
“Enzo.” Winter eyes me suspiciously. “Why are you adding security to your house?”
I busy myself plating the food, only answering after I put a plate loaded with cheesy eggs, buttery toast, and only slightly dry-looking sausage on it. “A few reasons. First, it’s just a smart idea. Second, I’ve been meaning to do it since I moved here. And last, I really think it would be a good idea if you stayed here until things with Thomas settle down.”
“Enzo, I can’t ask you?—”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I don’t feel right, having you stay at that motel. And you were scared there, weren’t you?”
Winter presses her lips together before giving a small nod. “Yes.”
“And is it better here?”
“Of course it is. But you can’t rearrange your life to protect me. I’ve already inconvenienced you enough.”
“You haven’t.” Circling the island, I sit on the stool beside her. “You aren’t inconveniencing me. And I told you… I want to do this. Help you. Make sure you feel safe. Not because I want anything for it, I just…”
Her cheeks go pink, and a tiny smile quirks her lips. “You can’t stop thinking about me?”
“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate saying it. “It doesn’t mean I expect anything beyond friendship. And helping you. But taking you back to that motel… it just feels wrong.”
Winter picks up a piece of toast and nibbles at it. A tiny line etches across her forehead—a little sign I’m noticing that means she’s having an inner debate with herself.
If I thought she really didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be bringing this up. But there’s something in her eyes that tells me she doesn’t want to leave. And there’s a change in her posture since she got here, like the fear and stress aren’t as bad as they used to be.
“I’ll be honest,” I say after several seconds of silence. “It’s been strange for me. Being here alone after spending the last twenty years with people always around. Yeah, I had my own apartment off base, but I saw my teammates basically every day. I enjoy time to myself, but it’s been an adjustment living here.”
“Enzo…” Her voice goes soft. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. I’m just… trying to explain, but doing a pretty shit job of it. What I mean is… yeah, I want to help you. Be there for you. But also… it’s nice having you here. Having someone around that I feel comfortable with. Before this… I was thinking about getting a dog?—”
Shit. I clamp my mouth shut so quickly it makes an audible snap.
Did I just compare Winter staying here to getting a dog?
“Winter. That came out wrong?—”
She puts her toast down and stares at me, an unreadable expression on her face. “Are you saying I’m like a dog? If I stayed, would you want me to play fetch?”
I’m horrified at myself. “No, of course not.”
Winter looks down at her plate, and her shoulders start shaking.
Shit. Shit. Did I make her cry? “Winter, I’m sorry?—”
Then she looks back up at me, and she’s not crying. She’s laughing.
“Oh, Enzo.” She catches my hand, wrapping her slender fingers around mine. Through giggles, she says, “I know that’s not what you meant. But”—another burst of laughter—“you have to admit, it’s pretty funny.”
“Not that funny,” I grumble, but my own lips are twitching.
“Yeah, it is.” Winter squeezes my hand, and I’ve never appreciated just holding a woman’s hand like this before. “And thank you. I needed this.”
“So does that mean you want to stay? Until we know you’re safe?”
“Yes.” With her free hand, she wipes a few tears of laughter away. “I would rather stay here. Although. I think I’ll take a pass on playing fetch.”
“Absolutely not,” I tell her solemnly, but my heart feels pounds lighter. “Just movies and coffee and better groceries.”
“Okay.” Still smiling, she says, “But I just thought of something I can do to help you. If I get a computer, I can make a real website for the store, instead of that basic one that was probably made ten years ago.”
“More than that,” I agree.
“And I can make up some new graphics. Ads. Flyers. Banners. Anything you want.” She pauses. “If you’re interested, that is. If you’d rather keep things the same?—”
“I think that’s a great idea. It’s something I’ve been thinking about, but I didn’t know where to start. I would love that.”
Then I look at the purpling bruise on her forehead and add gently, “But I want you to rest first, okay? You have a concussion, and it’s important you take care of yourself first.”
“Okay, Enzo. Rest, and then a new design package for the store.” Then she gives me a quick hug and she feels so damn perfect pressed against me…
Just friends. Just friends.
It doesn’t matter how I feel.
She needs a friend, and that’s what I’ll be for her.