3. Huxley
HUXLEY
I ’m jittery, and my sweaty hands keep slipping on the wheel as I drive through town and head to Walnut Street Cafe.
I can’t remember the last time I was this worked up, this…
nervous. I thought the military beat all the anxiety out of me, but when it comes to taking the sweet, precious Jordan on a date?
My training has done jack shit to prepare me for this kind of interaction.
I pull into the parking lot, spotting Jordan immediately.
Instead of her usual jeans and t-shirt, she’s in a green sundress that hugs her chest and flows around her hips and legs.
She looks up, peering at me through the windshield of my truck, and I’m blown away by her beauty.
A breeze twirls her auburn strands of hair around her face, and the skirt of her dress dances around her body.
As soon as I park the truck, I hop out and wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans. I nearly trip over my feet on my way to Jordan. God, please don’t let me make too much of a fool of myself in front of her. Something tells me I’ll only get one chance to make the best impression.
“Huxley–”
“Jordan–”
We both speak at the same time, which makes me chuckle. Jordan blushes.
I reach out, lacing our fingers before tugging her closer. “You’re absolutely stunning,” I tell her, brushing a kiss to her temple. Like yesterday, I inhale her citrusy, sugary scent, then force myself to step back before I haul her over my shoulder and drive her up the mountain.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, those green eyes lighting up at my compliment.
I make a note to shower her with praise from now on. God knows her father certainly hasn’t.
“You’re like, the handsomest ever, as always,” Jordan says, her cheeks blooming red at her admission.
I want to beat my fist against my chest, knowing my woman finds me attractive. I’ve never given a single fuck about anyone’s opinion of my appearance before, but I want Jordan to like what she sees.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” I tell her with a grin. “Ready to go?”
She nods enthusiastically, those eyes shining with excitement and more than a few nerves.
I help Jordan into the truck, resisting the urge to buckle her seatbelt. I know Jordan’s father is overprotective, and the last thing I want to do is treat her like a child.
Fifteen minutes later, we enter the next closest town, Eagleton.
They boast a booming population of nine thousand residents, which is basically a metropolitan in these parts.
Following the signs to the carnival in town for the week, I find a parking spot in the dirt lot and quickly hop out of the truck, jogging over to Jordan’s side.
I hold my hand out for her, always wanting my woman to know she has a choice.
If she chooses me, I will keep her safe.
I’ll also show her a world she’s never experienced.
I’ll give her the adventure she so clearly craves while protecting her the whole time.
All I want is for Jordan to be confident and happy.
When she puts her hand in mine, I wrap my fingers around it and look into those emerald eyes. There’s more anxiousness in those deep irises than when we first got in the truck. I take a moment to help her out of her seat and fold her into my arms.
“There’s no reason to be nervous around me,” I tell her.
“I know,” Jordan whispers. “I’ve just… never been on a date before.”
I’m not surprised by this news. Not because Jordan is undesirable in any way but because of her overbearing father and how naturally shy she is.
I lean back slightly, enough to cup her cheeks. “I’ve been an Army Ranger for the last decade, and I was deployed at least half of that time, so I don’t have much experience with relationships either. We’ll learn together, okay?”
This seems to put Jordan at ease. “Okay,” she replies with a nod.
I kiss her forehead and take her hand in mine, heading to our first carnival attraction: The Striker, AKA The Strongman. Am I hoping to impress Jordan? A little bit. But hey, I need all the help I can get when it comes to this woman.
After paying for our tickets, I lead us to the vertical structure lined with bright lights and marked at certain intervals. Jordan looks up at it, then turns her attention to me, an adorable eyebrow quirked in question.
“Here, take the hammer,” I instruct, pointing to the comically large hammer.
The handle is at least two and a half feet long, with a ten-pound rubber mallet at the end. Jordan’s eyes flash with anxiety, but I see the moment she overcomes her nerves and decides to go all in. Watching her emerald eyes blaze in challenge as she squares up to the hammer is breathtaking.
Jordan wraps both hands around the handle and lifts the heavier-than-expected hammer into the air.
She gets it almost above her head before dropping it on the lever sticking out of the platform.
The machine lights up, and we watch the marker pass one, two, three of the ten lines leading to the top, where a big bell dings if you’re strong enough to hit it.
I think my girl is disappointed for a moment, but then she opens her hand to me, silently asking for another ticket so she can try again. I grin at her, loving the determination blazing in her eyes.
She lifts the hammer again, higher this time, managing to swing it up over her head and then crush it into the lever with all her might. The marker moves up, up, up… and stops just short of the halfway point.
“Want to try again?” I ask, chuckling when she shakes her head.
“How about you show me how it’s done, Mr. Muscles?” she quips.
I laugh out loud, and God, it feels good. She feels good. Everything about her.
I give the carnie a ticket and wrap my large, rough hands around the handle of the hammer. I take a deep breath and tense my back and thighs, squatting slightly to get more leverage. The hammer swings up and then smashes into the lever on the platform, sending the marker straight to the top.
The bell rings, and the lights flash, making Jordan squeal with delight. “You did it!”
“I’ve had some training,” I tell her with a wink. “Now, what do you want as your prize? Traditionally, people get goldfish in little plastic bags and spend way too much money on a tank and food, only to have the fish die a week later. But there are also stuffed toy animals.”
“Let’s not mark our first date with the death of a fish,” Jordan teases. “I’ll take that cute little porcupine toy,” she decides, directing the man running this game to what she wants.
He hands it to her, and she hugs it close to her chest, which about breaks my heart. I get the sense my girl hasn’t had a lot of love or gifts in her life. I hate that for her.
We continue to stroll through the different booths and games, pausing whenever Jordan looks interested in something.
We end up spending our tickets on the ring toss, balloon darts, and a water gun target game I would’ve won if the games weren’t rigged to high heaven.
But none of that matters as long as I’m here with Jordan.
My girl has her arm looped in mine as she leans into me. Sometimes, she tenses and snuggles closer, but the sense of wonder never leaves her sparkling green eyes. She wants to be free, to experience the world around her, but she’s still scared.
That’s okay. As long as I’m here, I’ll give Jordan everything, the whole world on a platter while standing by to ensure she’s safe and cared for. I won’t be suffocating like her father; I simply want to see her flourish.
Jordan’s phone buzzes, not for the first time this evening.
She’s been ignoring it for the last two hours, but this time, she slips it out of her purse and peeks at the screen.
Her shoulders drop, and I watch my sweet, curious girl fold in on herself as if she needs protection from whatever is on her phone.
“Everything okay?” I ask as I lead us back to my truck. Even if Jordan doesn’t want to go home right away, I can tell she’s a little overstimulated from this evening’s activities.
“Yeah,” she says too quickly to be believed.
“How about the truth this time?” I glance down at her, and she shrugs defeatedly. I loathe her father for making her feel this way, especially after she came out of her shell tonight.
We walk the rest of the way to the truck in silence, but Jordan still has her arm wrapped tightly around mine. It’s like she’s trying to keep me here, keep me from running away. She has no idea the lengths I’d go to for her. Nothing she could say or do would scare me away.
“It’s my dad,” Jordan breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “I lied to him so he’d let me go out tonight. That’s why I had you pick me up at the coffee shop instead of my house.”
I turn toward my woman, gently guiding her to lean against the side of my truck while I cage her in with a hand on either side of her head.
“Hey,” I murmur, trying to make my tone as soft as possible.
“You don’t have to hide from me. I’m not going to judge you, Jordan.
Ever.” Her deep green eyes blink up at me, and the hope I see swimming beneath the surface makes me more determined than ever to give this woman a better life.
“Do I wish you didn’t have to lie in order to leave your own home?
Of course. But I don’t blame you for doing what you have to do to survive.
Trust me, that’s one thing I understand. ”
Jordan nods, her nose brushing against mine in the process. The softest, sweetest smile spreads across her lips, and I know I can’t resist her any longer. Just a little taste.
I rub my nose against hers, then angle my head, pausing to give her time to tell me no. When she closes her eyes and rises to her tiptoes to meet me halfway, I know I have the green light.
Our lips meet softly at first, and I take my time teasing her, nipping her bottom lip and then her top lip before kissing her fully. She gasps, her mouth parting and allowing me to take what I need and give everything right back to her.