Chapter 5 #2
“Really. I cried about it at home where nobody could see.” I pick my brush back up. “You know what though? The kids who have to work hardest at reading? They end up loving books the most. Because when you finally crack it open, it feels like you did that. Nobody handed it to you.”
He considers my words for a moment. “Did you crack it open?”
“I did. And now I love books more than almost anything in the world.”
“They call me slow,” he says. “The other kids.”
I feel a flash of fierce, protective anger on his behalf that I keep out of my voice.
“Kids who make fun of other kids?” I say. “That says everything about them and nothing about you. The ones who struggle and keep going anyway, those are the brave ones. That's you, Jonah.”
A small, shy smile lifts the corners of his mouth.
“Okay,” he says finally. Then he picks his brush back up. “This bone might be a femur.”
I smile back at him. “Let's find out.”
Walker taps on the doorway, startling us both.
How long has he been there? His face gives nothing away, but I have a feeling he heard every word of our conversation.
Because what’s on his face isn’t his usual stern scowl. It's a look that’s surprised. Almost warm.
My heart does a traitorous little flip I'd rather it didn't.
“Jonah,” he says, “Grandpa’s here. He’s taking you to camp this morning while Sadie and I go over some stuff.”
“Grandpa’s here?” Jonah’s eyes light up as he runs back downstairs, already twenty feet ahead os us.
As Walker and I follow, heading to the staircase, he gestures for me to go in front of him. I do, acutely conscious of him at my back as I start down the stairs.
My foot slips on the second step.
It happens fast. The lurch of weightlessness, the grab for a railing that isn't close enough.
And then Walker’s arm is around my waist, pulling me back.
Somehow in the scramble he turns me, and I end up facing him instead. Both of my hands pressed flat against his chest. His arms locked around my waist, holding me against him on the narrow stair.
He's solid and warm and close, and I can feel his heartbeat under my palm, steady in a way mine definitely is not.
I have nowhere to look but at him. The sharp line of his stubbled jaw. His lips, the ones I’ve rarely seen away from a microphone, pressed together with displeasure. Those deep green eyes, like the darkest forest.
I blink up at him. “Thanks.”
His arm is wrapped around me, hand settled at my waist. “You all right?”
I nod. “Fine.”
He looks me up and down critically, like he’s checking for damage. “You sure you've got your footing?”
It's a reasonable question. It shouldn't feel like a challenge. But it does. Maybe because I’m pressed up against a man I'm pretty sure doesn't even like me, but feels obligated to protect me anyway.
“I do now,” I say.
“Lucky I’m here to rescue you from yourself. Again.”
There he is. The dick version of Walker Rhodes I met yesterday.
“For the record,” I retort, “I was about to fall very gracefully.”
“Yeah. Gracefully crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe I ought to carry you down. Just in case.”
Is he joking? I can’t tell. He’s not smiling, not even a little.
“I’ve been walking my whole life,” I say.
“And yet.” He glances meaningfully at the stair where I slipped.
His arms are still around me. Neither of us has moved.
Those green eyes drop to my lips for just a moment, and my breath catches.
His jaw clenches. Then he takes my hand, turning me gently but firmly to face downstairs. He wraps my fingers around the railing before he steps back. He puts exactly one stair's worth of distance between us, and somehow it feels like a mile.
I stare at the railing under my hand, at his fingers that are no longer covering mine.
I tell myself I imagined the way he looked at my lips. Like he was wondering what they’d feel like on his.
Then again, that might have just been me.
As we head downstairs, I keep that hand on that railing the whole time.
Walker doesn’t comment.
Downstairs, Jonah is chatting with Daryl already, showing off the drawing we did at the community center.
“Grandpa, this is Sadie,” Jonah says, rushing to my side. “She’s my new nanny.”
Daryl smiles warmly at me. “Sadie. Nice to see you again. How’d my son manage to con you into working for him?”
“Dad,” Walker bites out.
I smile at Jonah. “I was lucky enough to have Jonah offer me the chance to spend the summer with him drawing human-meatball-eating aliens and digging for dinosaur bones. An offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Daryl’s grin widens as he looks at Jonah. “You know, kiddo, Sadie always knows the best books to recommend to me. She’s a treasure.” He waggles a finger at his son and grandson. “You boys better treat her like a queen.”
I can’t help but glance at Walker. I almost burst into giggles at his grumpy look.
Yeah, I don’t think I’m getting the royal treatment from my employer anytime soon.
“How’s your mother doing?” Daryl asks me.
“She’s got a dialysis machine at home now,” I say. “Hoping I can trust her to use it. I’ll go back to driving her to the clinic myself if I have to.”
His eyes crinkle at the edges. “She’s lucky to have you.”
I shrug, looking down at my boots. I never know what to do with comments like that.
When I glance up again, for some reason, I find myself looking at Walker. Only to find he’s staring at me with another surprised, thoughtful look.
I glance away first. I'm not sure what to do with a version of him that isn't scowling.
“All right, JoJo,” Daryl says. “Hop in the truck. Camp is waiting.”
Walker presses a towel into his son’s arms. “Water day, bud. Don’t forget to bring it back home.” He pulls Jonah in for a hug and kisses the top of his head. “Love you.”
Huh. It’s another little glimpse of a softer side. He might be a gruff asshole, but he’s free with the hugs and “love yous” to his kid.
I’m glad a sweet kid like Jonah has a dad who plainly loves him.
Jonah calls out his goodbyes before resuming his happy chatter to his grandpa. Daryl gives me a wave, then winks at Walker, who glowers back at him.
And then the front door shuts, and it’s just the two of us alone in the house.
Me, and my very grumpy, very hot new boss.