Chapter 14
W hen everyone started talking about a safe house, I pictured somewhere sterile.No windows. No personality. No pretty view.
But this place is the exact opposite of that.
Logically no matter what the safehouse looked like I would suck it up and stick it out. After all, the whole point of the place is to keep me safe, not to look pretty. But the thought of staying somewhere without windows or somewhere underground had me feeling claustrophobic before we even got here so to say I was relieved when we pulled up outside what looks like a romantic cabin is an understatement.
After getting our stuff unpacked, Owen took me on a walk through, showing me where the safe room that doubles as a surveillance room and the way down to the gym is. He then made a point of showing me the many hiding spots for the guns—under the coffee table, behind the TV, in the fridge drawer, the vanity cabinet in both bathrooms, etc.
“Is all this really needed,” I ponder out loud as we make our way back to the living room.
“Ideally not, but it’s better to be prepared. Angus is clearly spiralling if recent events are anything to go by. But Jonathan is working round the clock to get this sorted and you back home.” Owen flops onto the sofa, folding his arms behind his head, making his muscles bulge and flashing me a glimpse of his lower stomach. This man is out to torture me to death.
“I suppose that makes sense, except for the part where I wouldn’t have a clue how to even hold one of those guns, never mind use it. Aren’t you wrecked after the drive?” I ask as I sit on the other side of the sofa, trying not to be too obvious in staring at him. My tongue is practically hanging out as he stretches, letting out the most erotic noises and revealing his lower abdomen and waistband of his boxers to my hungry eyes once again.
“Nah, I slept all day, and I’m used to only getting a handful of hours so I’m good. And don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll show you how to handle a gun, but anyone who comes for you will have to get through me first.” With a smirk, he looks at me as if he has nothing better to do but stare at me and I can’t help but wish I knew what he was thinking for once.
What happened to the boy who would flee a room if we were alone and who’s this sitting in his place? These mixed signals are torture.
Handy I like some pain to go with my pleasure.
“In that case, I suppose we better get to it, huh? Do you think it’s safe enough for me to call Abbie and Jonathan to let them know we got here okay?”
“Sure, but texts would be better going forward. I’ll call Mum while you do that and then we can make a start, yeah?” With that, he hops, and man do I love to watch him go. Those dark jeans are hugging his ass just right.
With a sigh, I shake off my distractions and grab my phone to call Abbie first; she’s likely to be the easier conversation. Plus, I’m not quite ready to speak with my newfound dad while my mind is still clouded with lustful thoughts .
“I’ve told you before. It better be life or death if you wake me before nine,” she grumbles after picking up.
“Does being stuck in my very own ‘only one bed’ trope count?” I tease, laughing as I hear her let out a screech and scramble to sit up.
“You can’t just say that without warning! I need more details here!”
“There’s only one bedroom here, and just one bed. He offered to sleep on the sofa, but I feel bad making him do that…” I trail off, stretching out on said sofa.
“Absolutely not. This is your moment to feel him out and see if there’s a chance.” Her excitement is contagious, and I can’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl at the thought of all the possibilities being stuck here alone has created.
“You might just have a point,” I hum before changing the subject and letting her know I’ll text her when I can before hanging up and ringing Jonathan next.
“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”
It’s nice, to feel someone genuinely cares for you. It’s a feeling I don’t think I’ve felt from anyone except Abbie since Mum died. I didn’t even realise how much I needed someone other than her to give a shit until now. Having Jonathan in my life is softening the jagged edges around the hole losing Mum left. “Everything’s good. I just wanted to let you know we got here okay.”
“That’s good, hopefully, it won’t be too long and then we can get you home. I’m going to miss our breakfast chats almost as much as I miss our dinners at O’Neill’s.”
After some light-hearted talk, we say our goodbyes and hang up. Owen returns as I’m staring at the ceiling wondering how I went from feeling like I might die of loneliness to this craziness all in a matter of weeks.
“Everything good?” he asks, leaning over the back of the sofa to look at me .
“Yeah, there’s just been so much change lately that sometimes I wonder how I got here.” I shoot him a soft smile before getting lost in his green eyes.
“If you need a day or two to gather your thoughts, we can put off the self-defence stuff. If your head’s not in it, you could get hurt and I don’t want that.”
As tempting as it is to put off something I know is absolutely
going to suck , at least for the first few times, I hop up from the sofa, shaking my head. “Tempting, but we might as well get to it. How bad can it be?”