Chapter Thirty-Six
Joslyn
I’m about to take my morning coffee to the back porch for some sun when the doorbell rings.
I’m not in the mood for company, so I ignore it.
I don’t even look at my Ring camera for confirmation.
Abby is out back doing her regular sniffing tour of the yard.
It’s probably just a salesperson anyway.
I don’t know how they are getting through the gate.
Now I’m regretting telling the security guys to pack it up and go home.
The doorbell rings again, twice this time.
Ugh. Why are people so annoying? Can’t they go away?
My phone buzzes on the counter next to my coffee cup.
It’s Damon. I’m not ready to have that conversation yet, so I let it go to voicemail.
Yes, I’m hiding. I think after everything that’s happened, I’m entitled.
The phone buzzes again, just as the doorbell rings for the third time. Jesus Christ! Why can’t everyone leave me alone? I check my phone and cringe. Damon. Again. I close my eyes against the wave of guilt that flows through me.
I don’t want to deal with another person who’s going to yell at me for what happened yesterday.
I’ve had enough of that from the officers taking my statements.
Yeah, yeah, I get it. I shouldn’t have provoked someone with a gun.
The police couldn’t tell me enough times that I’d done the wrong thing.
And, maybe I did, but still, I acted on instinct, so I’m not sure that matters now.
If I had given it any thought, I’m positive that I never would have risked it. But it’s done, and Abby and I are fine.
The doorbell rings again, and it’s like I can feel the impatience from whoever is out there.
Okay, maybe this isn’t a coincidence. I check the Ring camera and realize that Damon’s been out there the whole time.
Damn it. No way can I avoid him. He’s probably heard how I screwed everything up yesterday.
I take a huge sip of coffee before opening the door. At least I have caffeine.
A very agitated Damon greets me. His usual neat look is replaced with a mess of inky hair, which he’s currently trying to tame with his fingers.
Those plush lips are compressed into a tight line, and his beautiful blue eyes are dull and serious.
His sleeves are rolled up halfway. Hello, arm porn.
He looks so distraught. Ugh, I might as well get this over with. I hate getting yelled at.
“Jos! Baby, are you okay?” Grabbing my forearms, he pulls me in for a hug. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? Is Abby okay? She’s so amazing!”
His head is on a swivel looking for my girl, so I mumble, “She’s out back for her morning sniff.”
I’m not quite sure what’s happening here. Damon surprises me. I expect him to chastise me for how I handled the confrontation with Bill yesterday. He seems more concerned about me than my actions. I’m stunned, again.
When I think about why I’m so surprised, I’m disturbed by the answer.
I’ve come to expect a very low level of support and commitment from the men I’ve been involved with, but that’s not Damon.
I’ve avoided him because I assumed he’d yell at me for doing the wrong thing yesterday, and because Kurt always had to point out anything I’d done wrong.
I’ve let myself think that’s okay, and worse, I’ve assumed that Damon will react the same way.
Which, of course, he hasn’t, because he’s not that guy.
I guess, despite all the therapy I’ve undergone, I still haven’t accepted that this relationship is different.
He says softly, “You didn’t call me yesterday.”
Then, I see it. Those gorgeous blue eyes are full of pain and disappointment.
My heart flounders. I hurt him. Nothing has ever made it clearer to me that he’s not like Kurt.
I’m suddenly seeing it so clearly, and I’m ashamed I didn’t see it sooner.
He’s never going to be like Kurt. I had so many reasons I didn’t call him yesterday, and none of them were about him.
They were all about me – my insecurities, my trust issues.
“I… I know. I’m sorry…” I don’t know how to express all the things I’m thinking. I could make an excuse like I thought he was busy, but it’s not fair to blame him. He’s not the issue; it’s me. I’m the problem. “I wanted to, but everything felt too big and then I couldn’t.”
He studies my face intently, waiting for me to continue, but I just can’t right now.
This is all too much, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing.
Tears well up in the corners of my eyes as I tighten my arms around him.
I cling to him for a minute, trying to work through my chaotic thoughts.
And because he’s the amazing man he is, he immediately picks up on the fact that I’m not ready to have this conversation.
He steers me gently towards the kitchen and sets me on one of the barstools.
“I’m going to make you some breakfast.” He starts to say something else, but changes his mind and closes his mouth firmly, then tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, before rubbing my back soothingly.
God, I missed this last night. Yesterday could have been so much less terrible if Damon had been there.
I should have called him, and yet I don’t know how to tell him.
Tell him I trust him. Tell him I see him. Tell him I love him.
Abby’s bark brings me out of my self-reflection. I move to let her in, but Damon intervenes.
“I’ve got this, baby. Why don’t you sit down and relax?
” He gestures towards the breakfast bar before letting Abby back into the house.
She’s thrilled to see him, her tail wagging so hard that her butt is wiggling.
He squats down to give her a rub, telling her what a good girl she’s been, and it’s the most adorable thing ever.
“Are you just the goodest girl? Yes, you are.” He coos at my pretty puppy. Abby’s all over the praise, licking him and rubbing up against him like she can’t get enough.
Same, girl. Same.
Sipping my coffee, I watch him, perfectly at home in my kitchen, pulling together what I’m sure will be a fantastic breakfast. He’s got some serious talent in the kitchen.
I follow the play of his strong back muscles as he moves, white dress shirt just tight enough to show them off through the thin fabric.
Broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and that glorious ass.
I’m never not going to enjoy looking at this man’s body.
It’s truly a work of art. Maybe Lainy was right about hockey butts.
They are pretty great. The thing is, there’s only one that I’m interested in checking out, and I’m shameless in my appreciation.
The calm confidence he exudes soothes the anxious part of me that’s been running rampant since yesterday.
I relax back into my seat, secure in the knowledge that there is nothing I’m required to do right now because he’s got it.
There’s something so freeing about knowing someone has your back, someone you can trust. When he’s around, there’s an ease that allows me to let go of always having to be the one in control.
It’s such a relief physically that I let go of a loud sigh, pushing the tension out through my breath.
We still need to have a conversation, but it’s reassuring that he’s willing to go at my pace. I just need a minute, and knowing that he respects that is huge for me.
“Feel better?” he asks, sending me a soft smile.
It hits me hard. He enjoys taking care of me.
It’s not for show or obligation. He genuinely likes it, and that’s a revelation for someone like me who’s taken care of everyone around her for decades.
I understand that need because I love taking care of the people I care about, too.
Still, I can’t deny that it’s such a relief to finally be the one who’s getting taken care of, even if it’s hard for me to let go of control.
“So much better.” I smile back at him, letting him see my appreciation and affection. Yes, we need to talk, but for a few minutes, I’m just going to bask in the comfort of his pampering and watch a handsome man make me some food. And it’s everything I need right now.