Chapter Five Lena
Chapter Five
Lena
I slept like the dead. And for someone who doesn’t typically sleep well, it felt like heaven. This bed is cozy, the sheets crisp and not too hot, and it’s so quiet here. There’s no traffic noise, no lights from the city.
It’s dark and still, and it settles my nervous system. The best part? No nightmares.
I roll over and check the time on the old-fashioned alarm clock and see that it’s just past four, but that’s six on the East Coast, and that’s when I usually wake up. I only got about five hours of sleep, but it was good sleep. Add that to the few hours on the plane yesterday, and I feel refreshed.
I like to go for a jog in the morning to start my day, so rolling right into working out, which is what I think Gideon meant when he said training, is just fine with me.
I hope my order arrives quickly, because I don’t have much to wear for workout gear. I had to pack what I had on hand at my parents’ place, and that wasn’t much. Thankfully, I do have a pair of yoga pants and a couple of T-shirts to tide me over, but they don’t fit the best, and they’re old.
Sitting up, I rub my hands over my face and glance out the window. It’s still dark, still the middle of the night here. But I climb out of bed and do my business in the bathroom, then pull my hair back into a braid and get dressed.
I snagged some old running shoes from my closet, thank goodness, and I slide them on and wrinkle my nose. Ugh, they’re not great. I must have run four hundred miles in these.
Please let deliveries happen soon.
I silently open the door of the bedroom and poke my head out.
The house is still, but there are little night-lights along the wall that come on when you walk past, illuminating my way down the stairs.
Finding the kitchen is easy enough, since it’s open to the huge living area and dining space.
The house is obviously newer, or recently remodeled.
I expected a lot of dark wood and heavy leather furniture, but that’s not how Gideon decorated his space.
It’s airy, with light wood floors and big windows. The furniture looks comfortable, with camel-colored leather. There’s even a wall of bookshelves.
I’m dying to see what the view is beyond those windows. I bet it’s beautiful.
We are in Montana.
I’ve been to this state before, when my mom was on the campaign trail, but never really got to enjoy it. We would fly into a city, I’d listen to her give a speech and we would smile for the cameras as a family, and then we were back on another plane.
So I’m excited to actually enjoy being here. I already like the peace and quiet.
After walking to the coffee maker, I find the coffee pods and slip one in, then locate a mug and brew my first cup of mountain coffee.
I may not like the reasons for being here, and Gideon made it perfectly clear that he’d like me to be literally anywhere else, but it already feels good.
Aside from these horrible shoes.
Once my mug is full, I lift it to my lips and take a sip and then sigh in happiness.
“You drink it black?”
“Holy fuck.” I gasp and jerk, spilling a little over the side, scorching my hand, and before I can move, Gideon’s beside me, his hand gripping my wrist, yanking me to the kitchen sink, where he turns on the tap and holds my hand under it. “I’m fine.”
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, his voice gruff.
“It’s okay.”
Every time he’s close to me like this, my body hums and my nipples pucker, which he’ll be able to see through this T-shirt from five years ago that hugs my girls just a little too tight, and I really wish he’d stop touching me. I don’t want to make a fool out of myself.
“Really, it’s okay.”
I tug free of his hold and reach for the towel to dry my hand.
“You’re up early,” he says and walks over to brew his own mug.
“It’s almost six thirty where I came from.” I sip my coffee before I steel myself to turn around and look at him, and then my eyes go wide, and I’m pretty sure my stomach is full of angry hornets because holy Christ on a cracker.
I’ve never seen him like this.
I know I’m staring, but I can’t stop.
He’s in black cargo pants, black boots, and a black T-shirt that molds to his torso and arms. Fucking hell, he’s built. He’s all muscle. There isn’t an ounce of fat on him.
No dad bod here.
And he looks like he’s ready to go to war and kick some serious ass.
Down, hormones.
I knew he had tattoos because he used to run with me back when he was my lead detail guy. But shit, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, and it’s like a punch in the gut because he’s way hotter than I remembered.
And the abs.
His shirt hugs his stomach, and every molecule in my hands itches to touch him.
So I press them behind me against the countertop and lift my eyes to his face, only to find him smirking at me.
“You done?” he asks.
“I’ve never seen you out of a suit.” I’m impressed that my mouth remembers how to speak because my brain is misfiring.
“Not true. We used to jog every morning, Rebel.”
Rebel?
I didn’t think he’d remember our morning jogs, but of course he’s calling me out on my little lie.
“I’m going to make us breakfast before we head out,” he says.
“Oh, coffee’s fine for me.”
“No, it isn’t.” He shakes his head and opens the fridge, starts pulling out eggs and veggies and even some cheese.
I miss cheese.
“I can’t do dairy,” I tell him softly, and he raises an eyebrow. “It kills my stomach.”
He nods and keeps working, so I sit on a stool on the other side of the island to watch as he scrambles eggs and chops the onions, mushrooms, and peppers. His hand looks so big on the handle of the knife, it makes me swallow hard.
You are not supposed to be lusting after the bodyguard who’s keeping you safe, Lena. Absolutely not. It’s highly unprofessional, and he isn’t interested anyway. Don’t make an ass out of yourself.
“Did you just call me an ass?”
I blink rapidly. Shit, did I say that last part out loud?
“No, my brain was just waking up. Ignore me until after my second cup of coffee. Nothing that comes out of my mouth makes sense.”
His lips quirk up on the side, and I wish with all my heart he’d smile at me. But then the moment is gone, and he turns to the stove to cook our food. Less than ten minutes later, we’re both eating.
“I’ll never eat all this,” I tell him after I swallow a bite. “I mean, it’s really good, but it’s too much.”
“You need the calories,” he says. “You’re going to work them off.”
“So what are we doing this morning?” I pop a mushroom in my mouth. “Also, where did you learn to cook? Because this is delicious.”
“Spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mom.” His brows pull together, and before I can ask more about his parents, he keeps talking. “You’ll see what we’re up to when we get out there.”
“Am I at least dressed appropriately?”
He doesn’t even look my way as he nods. In fact, he’s hardly looked at me at all after the coffee spilled on my hand.
Great. I’m over here lusting after his hot body, and he’s barely tolerating me. It’s so flattering. Such a boost to my ego.
Mentally sighing, I shake it off. Who cares what he thinks? I’ll only be here for a short time, I’ll go on his little jogs in the morning, and when my art supplies get here, I’ll shut myself away and work. Maybe I’ll find places to hike. I’ll figure it out.
When we’re both finished eating, we clean up our dishes and set them in the dishwasher, and then we step out onto the porch off the kitchen, and my jaw drops.
The sun is just coming up over the mountains, and the sky looks like it’s on fire, with reds and oranges shooting through wispy clouds.
I had no idea that there’s a lake out here, along with those jagged mountains, already topped with snow, in the background.
The trees have started to change color, so along with the burning sky, the trees are yellow and orange, with a touch of red, and I’m pretty sure I just found what heaven looks like.
If heaven exists at all.
I swallow hard and sit on the top step when my knees give out, just taking it all in.
A tear spills out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t care. My breaths are coming faster, and I can feel the pulse in my neck, but I’m not on the verge of a panic attack. That’s not what this is.
I’m . . . awestruck.
There’s no other word for it, and I don’t think that word has ever been in my vocabulary before.
Because I’ve never seen this before.
Suddenly, Gideon lowers himself next to me, leaving at least a foot of space between us, and rests his elbows on his knees, silently waiting for me as he watches the sky change over those rugged peaks.
“I don’t even know what to say.” It’s a whisper, because I feel like if I speak any louder, I’ll shatter this moment.
“I know.” He whispers it back to me. I wish he’d touch me. Maybe just hold my hand. Because this feels like a big moment, and I don’t even know why. I’m a visitor here. This view isn’t mine to keep.
After a few minutes, my tears dry up, and I stand, then shiver.
“Are you cold?” Gideon’s frowning at me.
“It’s cold here,” I reply with a nod. The air is crisp, making goose bumps rise on my skin. “But I’ll warm up. I could sit right here all day, so we’d better go.”
He watches me for one long moment, and then he leads me down the stairs and starts to jog.
It’s easy to keep up with him. It’s as if he remembers my pace from all those years ago, and that’s the pace he’s setting for me.
There’s a worn path that meanders around the lake and then into the woods, where the temperature dips even more.
My teeth chatter, but I don’t say anything because I’ll be damned if I complain, and I have a sweatshirt on the way from last night’s shopping spree.
I’ll be sure to wear it after it arrives.
As my muscles warm up, I settle into the run and enjoy the smell of the trees. We jog into a clearing, or a pasture, and there are men out here on horseback.