Chapter 4 - Jensen
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Jensen
Callie’s eyes are green. A deep, rich shade of green that makes me feel some kind of way, even though I can’t name it. She stares back at me for a moment before her eyelids flutter and she closes them, a sigh escaping her full, pink lips.
My own eyes shut and the tension in my shoulders eases, my entire body relaxing as I run my thumbs across the smooth plane of her neck—something I can’t seem to stop doing.
Callie’s skin is soft and smells like vanilla, and there’s an aching need deep inside my chest, one that wills my arms to wrap around her body, pulling her flush against mine.
It’s been so long since I held a woman, really held a woman, and the desire to do so now overwhelms me.
I didn’t come here expecting anything. I only showed up to appease Sutton and to hopefully quell any further conversations about me needing to date more.
I never expected to have such a strong reaction to a complete stranger.
But the moment I touched Callie’s hand, something unraveled inside me.
An easiness washed over me, soothing out the jagged edges I try not to let anyone else see.
Then, when the blindfolds came off, I could barely breathe.
To say she’s pretty would be an insult. She’s beautiful, and not in the way that most people think of beautiful—solely based on physical features alone.
No, it’s more than that. It’s the brightness in her eyes, the genuineness of her smile.
The pink flush in her cheeks. She’s stunning in a way I’m not sure I have words for, but it’s not just that.
It’s not just her loveliness that has my entire body relaxing in a way that’s been damn near impossible for a long time now. It’s her .
You deserve so much more, Shep . Sutton’s voice floats through my thoughts, a fragment of our conversation from the diner. I hadn’t argued with her then, even if on the inside I was recoiling at her words.
But standing this close to Callie, with her soft, warm body leaning into me, there’s a tiny part of me that wants this—a bit of happiness.
A small reprieve from the bone-deep aches that wear me down each day.
She feels so good underneath my hands, and I realize now just how much I’ve missed this.
This closeness. I don’t want to let her go. At least not yet .
I know it won’t last, it can’t last. But maybe . . . maybe I can let myself have this. This small break. An hour with a beautiful girl in the glowing morning light—where the shadows can’t find me. A chance to pretend.
“Amaaaaazing,” Mabel trills, popping up next to us. “Okay, let’s try something else.”
I open my eyes and pull my hands away from Callie’s neck, as much as I don’t want to, and wait for instructions. Callie’s eyes linger for a moment before flicking over to Mabel.
“Callie, I want you right here, facing me.” Mabel points to a location a little closer to the water. “Jensen, can you stand behind her and put your arms around her?”
We move into position, and when Callie’s back presses into my chest, I cross my arms over her, pulling her even closer. Mabel walks around us, taking pictures from different angles while the sun slowly stretches its glittering arms across the sky.
Callie relaxes against me, her hands coming up to rest atop my forearms. I nearly groan at how incredible she feels in my arms, and without even thinking about it, I drop a kiss to the top of her head.
The camera clicks and I stiffen, realizing what I’ve done. “Sorry,” I hurry to say, fearing I’ve crossed a line or made Callie uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to, it was . . . ” habit . The word hits me like a freight train but stays stuck in my throat as a sharp stab of pain lances through me.
“No, that’s perfect!” Mabel squeals from where she’s standing a few feet away, which makes Callie laugh as she looks over her shoulder and up at me. Her sweet smile is like a lifeline, and I cling to it to bring me back from the edge.
Her eyes linger on me again and for a second, I swear I see concern in them. Or worry maybe? I break eye contact and force myself to take a deep breath. Her fingers on my forearm tighten—a little squeeze that lifts my chin, and the reassurance I find in her gaze steadies me.
“So, tell me something,” she says. “Something about you.”
“Alright, what would you like to know?”
Callie adorably scrunches up her nose. “Since this is our first date and all, we should probably stick to the easy stuff . . . buuut considering the unconventional conventions of this date, I think we should skip all that and get to the deep stuff, don’t you?”
My insides freeze. “Um . . . sure.” The words come out hoarse. I brace myself for what she might ask. Talking about “deep stuff” isn’t something I do. Ever. And as much as I’m enjoying this moment, I don’t want to start now.
She pantomimes thinking particularly hard about something and then snaps her fingers. “Okay, I’ve got a good one. When you make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, do you put peanut butter on both sides of the bread or just one?”
A laugh erupts from my chest. “That’s what you want to know?”
Callie nods, her face all seriousness. “I couldn’t possibly go on a second date with someone who doesn’t understand the exact perfect ratio of a PB&J.”
“So, you want to go on a second date with me, huh?” I tease, hardly recognizing myself. The laughing tone, the wide smile . . . they’re not me. At least not the me I usually am. But in this moment, I don’t mind.
Callie’s cheeks flush with pink. “Well, I . . . um . . . ” she stammers.
It’s so damn cute, I laugh again. “I’m a grape jelly one side of the bread kind of guy,” I tell her, letting her off the hook. “With a smooth, but not too thin, not too thick layer of chunky peanut butter on the other side.”
“Ooh, I like your style.” She beams at me as Mabel calls out, directing Callie to face the camera.
I settle back into our pose, my arms still wrapped tightly around her petite frame, and I sink into the feeling of her in my arms. A chance to pretend, I remind myself and shove away any last, lingering tendrils of shadow, giving myself full permission to do just that.
I lean over Callie, resting my chin on her shoulder, our cheeks nearly touching and flash the camera a smile.
A few seconds later, Callie leans to the left slightly so she can look at me and then plants a kiss on my cheek.
Mabel squeals and rushes closer. “Don’t move!” she shouts, focusing her camera. “Oh my gosh, that is so cute!”
Callie freezes, her lips soft against my skin. Heat rushes up the back of my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels like the sunshine on my skin has seeped through my pores, warming me from the inside out.
Mabel is chirping praise at us like a bird as she circles, getting different angles.
“The camera is loving you two!” She steps closer, flipping her camera around to show us another of the photos.
It’s one of the shots with Callie kissing my cheek, and I look content, happy even.
It’s strange to see myself like that, but at the same time, it’s kind of nice, too.
“Now, I want to get some movement shots,” Mabel directs, backing up to test the lighting. “We’ve probably only got another half hour before the light quits cooperating.” She points toward the edge of the lake. “Why don’t you walk that way together?”
Callie gives Mabel a little salute and then turns to me, her smile so bright it nearly knocks me over. “Shall we?” She drawls in a funny little accent, like a stuffy old butler or something.
The mischievousness in her eyes triggers my own and before she has time to react, I sweep her legs out from under her and throw her over my shoulder, making sure to keep a hold on her skirt so it doesn’t fly up.
Callie lets out a whoop of surprise, but then she’s laughing hysterically. Mabel lets out her own squeal of delight, her camera flashing like a summer storm.
I walk a few more feet and then set Callie down.
Instead of letting go of her hand, I twirl her around.
She follows my lead easily and then we’re dancing, our boots kicking up dust that swirls around us.
It’s not a smooth or eloquent dance, but as we twist and turn, our arms and hands gliding over each other’s, we’re both laughing.
I know I’m supposed to be pretending, but this warmth in my chest is real.
The peace that floods my senses is real.
The pounding of my heart every time this girl smiles at me is very, very real.
Callie collapses against me. “I’m dizzy,” she breathes out, swiping at the hair that’s fallen into her face.
“These have a mind of their own,” I say, reaching for the locks that refuse to stay out of her eyes and brush them back.
“Tell me about it,” she jokes with a grumble.
I realize how closely we’re pressed up against each other. One of my hands is cradling her head, and the other is on her back, holding her to me.
Her hands are pressed against my chest, and I wonder if she can feel the thunder reverberating through me.
I’m absolutely lost in her eyes. Everything else has faded away. I don’t hear Mabel or her camera, even though I know she’s close, moving around us like a satellite does the moon. I don’t see the sun or the river or the trees around us. It’s just Callie and the way she’s looking at me right now.
An overwhelming urge to kiss this woman surges through my entire body, so electric that I can feel it in every pore, every cell.
Don’t do it. Don’t go there.
But Callie is staring up at me, her eyes deep pools of green that I could absolutely get lost in, and I lean down, my nose skimming hers. My other hand finds her neck, and god, she’s so soft against my fingertips.
I wait for her to pull away, to put space between us, but she doesn’t. Instead, she lifts her chin. It’s a tiny movement, almost imperceptible, but I see it.
So, without second guessing, without giving a single damn or bit of caution, I close the last bit of distance between us and press my lips against hers.