Chapter 10 - Jensen
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Jensen
It happens fast. One minute Callie is standing there, shock that mirrors mine etched in her features, and the next, she’s on the ground.
I’m moving before my brain has a chance to catch up, shoving Peaches out of the way as I lean over her. “Are you hurt?”
I reach for her arm, helping her gently into a sitting position. Her skin is warm underneath my fingertips, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the pulse of electricity that shot through me when I touched her.
“I’m fine,” she says quickly, searching behind me. “Is the dog okay?” Concern lines her eyes as she rakes them over Peaches. “I think I may have landed on her.”
Peaches, who’s at least 60 pounds and as solid as an ox, answers for herself by trotting over and plopping down in the dirt next to Callie. I give her the eye and quickly sign “place” which she is fully aware means for her to go back inside and lay down on her bed. She ignores me.
“Peaches,” I practically growl, though she can’t hear me. I wave my hand in front of her face to make sure she’s watching and then give the sign again. She responds by nuzzling herself even closer to Callie and shoving her snout up under Callie’s palm.
She’s always been a social creature, but she’s clearly taken with Callie.
That makes two of us, pup. The thought rockets through my brain, but I swallow, shoving it away.
“Sorry about that.” I meet Callie’s eye, trying to ignore the magnetic pull I feel toward her. “She knows better than to jump on people.”
“It’s okay.” Callie rubs both hands over Peaches’s belly, making her leg move back and forth when she gets to a ticklish spot. “I’m just glad she’s not hurt.” She leans down a little further addressing Peaches. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she tells her. “You know that?”
I see the blood then, dripping down Callie’s forearm. “ You are hurt.”
She waves a hand. “It’s nothing.”
It might be nothing to Callie, but the sight of her injured in front of me twists my insides. I stand up and stalk back inside to the bathroom where I keep the first aid kit and return to her side.
“It’s just a scrape,” Callie tells me, holding her injured arm. “It’s not a big deal.”
I ignore her, opening the kit, and pulling out supplies.
“Really, I’m fine,” she tries again. “Jensen, you don’t have to—”
“Will you just let me help you?” I growl, the words coming out way gruffer than I intend. I can’t help it though. This close to her, I can smell vanilla and honey on her skin, and it’s driving me crazy.
She purses her lips in annoyance but nods, watching me with narrowed eyes as I tear open a little packet containing an alcohol wipe.
I carefully clean the scrape just above her elbow and cover it with a band-aid.
“You’re all set.” Again, the words are like sandpaper.
I know I’m being a jerk, but this is the way it has to be.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, running her finger over my handiwork.
I stand up and hold out my hand to help her up.
She takes it and I pull her to her feet.
She’s so close to me now, it takes every ounce of strength to stop myself from wrapping my arms around her.
Just the thought makes my pulse quicken, but it also has my stomach flipping over.
I step back, putting ample space between us.
Annoyance flares through me at my own lack of self-control.
Callie crosses her arms over her chest and huffs. “Look, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard or anything. I didn’t even know you lived here.” Her body language matches mine, and my immediate reaction is to do something to make her feel more at ease. That only annoys me more.
“So why are you here then?” I scowl, not understanding at all how the very person I’ve been doing my best not to think about has somehow landed in my front yard.
“I came to look at the RV,” she explains as if it’s obvious. “Sutton said . . . ” She trails off. “She said . . . ” Her face pales. “Oh, biscuits!”
I almost laugh at her adorable albeit ridiculous exclamation, but realization smacks into me.
“Sutton sent you,” I echo. It’s not a question.
Her face says it all, and honestly, I’m not surprised.
Sutton is one of those people who loves hard, and she loves me like a brother.
If she thinks something is for my own good, she’ll do it without a single apology.
Apparently, that includes sending unsuspecting, beautiful women to my house to be love-bombed by my dog and gruffed at by me.
“Listen, Callie . . . ” This time it’s me who trails off.
As strongly as I feel about shutting down anything that might even halfway resemble catching feelings, I don’t want to be unkind.
It’s not who I am, and I especially don’t want to be unkind to Callie.
She’s done nothing wrong. In another life, she’d be exactly the type of woman I’d want to hand over my heart to.
But that’s just it. My heart shattered a long time ago, and whatever’s left is hardly worth much these days.
“Mabel tells me you two are best friends.”
I can’t quite understand the look on Callie’s face, but it’s an easier topic than what’s rolling around in my thoughts, so I nod.
“Yeah, we’re more like family though. We have been since . . . ” I swallow as the familiar claws of grief dig into me. So much for an easy topic change. You’d think after four years I’d be okay talking about it, but the words still don’t want to come out. I try again. “Since Kase.”
Callie’s eyes soften. “I knew Kasey in high school. He was really funny. And kind. That’s what I remember the most about him, what a genuinely good guy he was.”
“He was.”
“How did you two meet?”
“In Basic. We were both fresh out of high school and thought we were badasses because we enlisted. We learned pretty quickly that the Army doesn’t care what sort of bravado you think you have, they’re gonna beat it right out of you.
” The memories from Basic Training pop up, and for once they don’t make me sad.
“I remember this one time I fell asleep when I was supposed to be on watch and had to do a ruck march as a punishment. Kasey smart-mouthed our Drill Sergeant so that I wouldn’t have to do it alone.
He was always looking out for me like that. ”
“And you for him.” She states this not as a question, but as fact.
“He was my best friend. I would’ve done anything for him.” Sadness swells in my chest, but for once, it feels good to talk about it, to talk about him.
“You run his auto shop now, right?”
“Yeah, just until Ethan is old enough to decide what he wants to do with it. Kase was so proud of his shop and so excited to teach Ethan everything he knew about cars. I’m no guru like he was, but I’m doing my best to make sure Ethan doesn’t miss out.”
Callie gives me the sweetest smile. “I’m sure you’re doing a great job.”
The back of my neck warms, and I lift a hand to rub at it. Sutton says similar stuff all the time, but when Callie says it? Well, it just hits different.
“So uh . . . ” I clear my throat, needing a subject change. “Sutton sent you to look at the RV?”
“I don’t want to overstep.” Callie holds up both hands. “Clearly, you weren’t expecting me, and I don’t want this to be some weird thing. I’ll just go live with Frog Lady. Really, it’s totally fine.”
“Frog Lady?” I can’t tell if she means literally or not. “Is that some weird nickname for your cousin?”
“No,” Callie snorts. “It’s what I call the lady whose room I guess I’ll be renting.” Her shoulders drop. “To say the pickings around here are slim is putting it mildly. Just trust me on that one.”
I don’t fully understand all the details, but one thing is clear enough. “You need a place to live.”
She nods. “I do. Unless I want to bankrupt my cousin, which is definitely not on my bingo card for the year.”
I know I should tell her that the RV isn’t available.
I should probably just feed her some kind of excuse or make something up that will get her back in her car and on her way into town, but the look on her face has me sucking in a breath instead.
There’s a heaviness to her shoulders, like there’s a weight sitting there.
A weight that she tries her best not to let people see.
But I see it. And I understand what it’s like to carry heavy things around with you.
“Come on then,” I tell her, heading for my truck.
“Excuse me?”
“Come on,” I repeat, opening the passenger side door for her. “I’ll take you down there to give it a look.”
She walks over to me, the corner of her bottom lip sucked between her teeth. “You sure?”
Sure this is a bad idea? Yes. Absolutely. 100%. “Yup.”
Peaches saves me from having to elaborate by following Callie to the truck, her tail wagging a mile a minute. “You stay,” I tell her. Giving her the “place” sign again.
I can tell she wants to ignore me, but she’s too much of a good girl for that. Though, her ears droop as she begins the slowest walk in the history of dogs toward the porch.
“Oh, let her come,” Callie calls out. “She’s so sweet, and I just love dogs. ”
Despite myself, this makes me smile. “You sure? She nearly gave you a concussion.”
“Nah, her love language is just intense snuggling.” She returns my smile. “I don’t mind that so much.”
I chuckle, turning to jog after Peaches. I catch up to her and touch her back. When she looks at me, I give her the sign for “go” and she whips around so fast, she nearly knocks me over.
Callie squeals as Peaches runs at her, zipping back and forth in excitement. At the last possible second, she swerves around Callie and jumps into the cab, parking herself down in the middle seat, tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.
Callie laughs as she sits next to Peaches in the passenger seat, and I can feel the corners of my mouth lifting. Her laugh is contagious, and it’s a sound I doubt I could ever get tired of.
Which is why this is a bad idea, I tell myself as I get inside the cab.
“What kind of dog is she?”
“She’s mostly a mutt, but I’m pretty sure she’s got lab and golden retriever in her.”
“And she’s deaf right?” Callie scratches Peaches behind the ears, clearly not minding that my dog is completely invading her personal space.
I nod. “Yeah, since she was a pup. The shelter isn’t sure if it was a congenital thing or if it was some kind of infection from before they found her, but they’re pretty sure she’s been unable to hear most of her life.”
“Was it hard to train her?”
“Not too bad. She’s really smart, and we bonded pretty quickly. Sometimes I think that dog can read my mind.”
“Well, I think she’s amazing.” Callie beams at my dog. “What’s her name?”
“Peaches.”
Callie’s smiling brightens. “Cause she’s so sweet right?” She leans down and kisses Peaches on the top of the head. “Well, if that just isn’t the perfect name for you.”
Another chuckle slips from my throat, which makes me frown. There this woman goes disarming me again. I swear, talking to her is too easy.
“So, um . . . ” I grasp for another safe topic. “You just moved back here, is that right?”
“I was born and raised in Dayton Springs, but I spent the last few years in New York City. I came home a few weeks ago.”
I tend to avoid big cities—I much prefer the peace and quiet of country life. Probably a result of growing up in the hill country of Texas. It surprises me a little to hear that Callie lived in the city for so long. “I bet life moves at a much faster pace up there than it does here.”
“It does,” she confirms. “Sometimes so fast it moves right past you and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
Callie says it casually, but there’s a tiny tug that threatens to pull down her mouth, as though she’s trying not to let a frown show. I shouldn’t ask—there’s clearly a story there—but I’m curious.
“Is that why you came back home?”