Chapter 35 #2
“No worries there. I knew it wasn’t possible that you were talking about the mind-blowing sex we had.” I feel my cheeks heat. “Unless you’re an amazing actress, there’s no way you’d use the word ‘awful’ to describe it.”
His smirk disappears, and a shroud of seriousness falls across his face.
“And you weren’t taking advantage of me by staying at my house after everything that happened. It’s what anyone would do for someone they care for.”
I’m stunned.
“What did you say?” I whisper. “Y-you care about me?”
Harrison tilts his head and stares at me for a few seconds. Then he takes a step closer to me, cups the left side of my face with his large hand, and rubs the pad of his thumb, achingly slow, back and forth across my temple.
“Bets?” His gaze fixes on mine, as if he’s trying to understand me by looking into my soul. “Of course I care about you. I’m sorry if I’ve done a poor job of making that clear. I thought I was being obvious.” His voice is hushed and so tender that my chest aches.
I’m speechless. He lifts his other hand to my neck, his fingers reaching the base of my head.
“Listen. Yes, I care about you—a lot. I would love to have you stay with me as long as you wanted, and it wouldn’t be taking advantage. Hell, if anything, it would give me some peace of mind to know you’re safe every night. I might get a good night’s rest for once.”
I search his eyes for a few seconds, then allow myself to give him a tight smile. It’s all I can manage without getting too emotional. I step away from him and resume walking. A second later, he joins me. He must realize I need a minute because he doesn’t pick the conversation back up.
We walk in silence, and I’m lost in my thoughts, replaying his words. Up ahead, I see the small cabin Ellie and Leah had pointed out to me on one of our walks.
“Whoa, why didn’t I think of this before?” A glance at him tells me Harrison is talking to himself. Then, he says, “I have a brilliant idea.”
I chuckle. Teresa is visible in the distance; maybe two or three minutes of walking remain.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your idea?” It’s still early, but the sun is already hot, and I’m ready to be in the shelter of my car while I wait for someone from the automobile club to arrive. I hate paying that renewal bill every year, but right now, I’m happy to be a member.
“It’s a visual. Take a quick detour with me, please?”
I shouldn’t, but what’s another few minutes?
“All right.”
A glimpse in his direction finds him looking toward the cabin and smiling.
He leads me up the path to its front door.
I wait on the wooden porch while he types a code into the keypad, and I look at the vintage glider.
It appears to be in great shape, and happy memories flood my mind, making me smile.
Mom and I had a glider like that, and we would sit on it during hot summer days and drink lemonade. Mom would either read me a story or, as I got older, we’d talk about my life. It was my grandmother’s, and Mom dragged it with us every time we moved.
I didn’t want to sell it when I sold Mom’s house, but I had nowhere large enough to store it and no easy means to move it.
It hurt to watch it go, but it added to Mom’s care fund.
The only thing that made me feel better was that a middle-aged woman who loved it for the symbolism it held for her bought it.
She shared that she had precious memories of time spent with her grandmother on a similar glider.
“Here we are.” Harrison steps back and gestures for me to walk in. Once I’m inside, I take in the room. It’s nice and cozy with a fireplace and furnished.
“Who lives here, and are you sure it’s okay for you to give me a tour?”
“Uh, well, no one stays here… at the moment. Let me show you something.” He walks to the center of the small room and points up at the ceiling. “See that?”
“The skylight?” I’m glancing upward, and I don’t see what he’s talking about.
“No, all the cobwebs.” He ambles over and sits in a chair. “Give me your finger.”
“Uh, excuse me…”
Still, I give him my hand. He takes my index finger and runs it along the end table nearest us. When I look down afterwards, a thick layer of dust covers my fingertip. Okay, so maybe the place needs a good cleaning.
“Would you sit for a minute?” I sigh, but lower myself into the chair closest to him.
“All right, so it’s a bit… dirty. What’s your point?”
“Henry and I were talking recently about needing to hire someone to keep the house clean or, better yet, rent to a person who’ll take care of it on an ongoing basis.”
“Ah, so, you’re looking to see if I want to clean the house?” I fix my gaze on his. I’m still confused.
“Yeah, kind of. But I’m thinking more along the lines that you could stay here while deciding your next steps. Then you don’t have to go back to Brandon and the trailer except to pick up your stuff.” Harrison’s face is bright, and the grin he’s sporting is enough to take my breath away.
I pause for a few seconds as I try to get my bearings. He’s offering me a place to stay, but the rent here would have to be ridiculous—it’s small, but beautiful.
As if he can read my mind, Harrison’s eyes turn serious. “You wouldn’t have to pay anything if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s payment enough to have the house cleaned for us. It would take you a week or two, I imagine, to return it to tip-top shape.”
I glance down at the floor. Gosh, it would buy me some time to find a decent place to stay long-term.
I lift my head and pivot it in his direction, my eyes finding his, watching me. “If no one lives here, why do you need it cleaned, and why not just hire a company?”
Harrison’s smile fades, and he runs a hand through his hair.
“This was our dad’s cabin. He… he bought it when it was a beat-up shack, and he worked on bringing it back to life.
He always said he was making it a dream house for him and Mom to retire to.
” Harrison closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“It’s okay; you don’t have to say more.” Harrison’s eyes pop open again, and he looks over at me.
“It wasn’t anywhere near finished when he died.
Henry moved into it eventually. Then he continued remodeling it to match the plans Dad had drawn out.
Most of the plan was in Dad’s head, but the grander elements, at least, he put on paper.
It matters to us that it stays tidy because of its history and its connection to our father.
But we’re both hesitant to hire a cleaning company, to let someone we don’t know come in and out to take care of it. We all know and trust you.”
My heart skips a beat at that. Them not wanting to bring just anyone in to clean makes sense after Harrison explained it.
I can hardly believe, though, that Harrison would trust me with this.
This cabin remains a link for them to their father, at least for Harrison and Henry.
I suspect it’s important to the rest of the brothers for the same reason.
“I guess if you’re sure, then I could stay for a little while and get everything cleaned up for you. It would buy me a little more time to find a new place. But your brothers would have to be okay with it as well.”
“They will be. I’ll ask them to be sure. Though I know they’ll not only be fine with it, but they’ll be happy.”
He takes a few seconds and types something on his phone. Then I hear the familiar whoosh of a text message sent.
“Okay, you ready to go to the car, then? We can go get the rest of your things from your house today.”
I nod, and we both rise. I wait for him on the porch as he locks up. While he’s doing that, several dings come from his phone. He pulls it from his pocket and glances down at it. His handsome features transform into a scowl for a few seconds as he types a response.
“We’re all set. Everyone is fine with it. Henry is especially happy—the cobwebs creep him out.”
We step off the porch and resume our walk.
“Are you sure they’re in agreement? You were wearing your mad face for a few seconds while you typed.”
He chuckles.
“Now you sound like Layla. Do I really have a ‘mad face’?”
“You do, but don’t change the subject.”
He sighs. “It was just Holden pissing me off. He’s fine with you staying here, but he threw in some shit to annoy me. Irritating me, as you know, is one of his favorite pastimes.”
I laugh. It is almost comical when they mess with each other at work—most of the time. I think Holden always stays a hair ahead of Harrison in their competition, though. Probably because Harrison is Mr. Serious at work and has lines he won’t cross. Holden, not so much.
I allow myself a few moments to revel in the relief of having more time to find a new place. I did not want to go back to Brandon’s but felt I had no other option.
When we’re about fifty feet from my car, Harrison abruptly comes to a standstill. I end up a few steps in front of him, and when I stop and turn to look at him, he’s staring at my car with one hand holding the base of his neck. I’ve seen him do that before when he’s tense.
“What’s wrong?” I close the distance between us.
“Nothing. I need you to promise me something.” His tone carries a hint of concern.
“First, tell me what it is.”
He takes a deep breath and then releases it. “Promise me you won’t get mad.”
“Harrison, what did you do?”