Chapter 7 Katelyn #2
Carefully, I carry it out into the hall, then set it down to lock my door. With Garrison’s keys in hand, I start to unlock his door, only to stop firmly when I realize he might be just getting out of the shower and still not dressed yet.
So, instead of unlocking the door, I step in front of it and knock, leaving my crockpot in front of mine just in case he doesn’t answer.
Not ten seconds later, though, the door is pulling open, and my mouth is going completely dry.
Dark hair wet from his shower, Garrison stands in front of me in pajama pants and a grey tank top that looks far too good stretched over his muscled torso. Attraction burns through me, and the battle of letting my gaze run over him is one I lose before I even realize what it is I’m doing.
“I—sorry. I thought you might be hungry.”
Garrison grins and leans against the doorjamb. “Fine. Four lasagnas.”
“Lasagnas? Huh? No, it’s—” And then I realize what he’s doing.
“Hah. No lasagnas necessary. I just want to be a good neighbor.” Retreating toward my door and seriously asking myself whether or not I should do what I’m about to, I lift the crockpot, then carry it back over to where he’s standing.
“You didn’t eat, and I have plenty.” I start to hand it to him, then remember he shouldn’t be carrying it.
“I can bring it in and set it on the counter.”
“Only if you’ll eat with me. I’m assuming you didn’t eat at the diner, and you definitely didn’t have time to eat while I was in the shower.”
“I-I can go home.”
“Has Thomas eaten?”
I nod. “He’s already headed to bed.”
“You?”
“Not yet,” I admit. I should have set a bowl aside for myself so I could just leave this here. Why didn’t I think this through?
“Then will you come in and eat with me?”
Say no, say no. “Sure. I need to get back soon, though. My shift at the coffee shop is tomorrow morning at seven.”
“Sounds good.” He steps aside, and I move into the apartment. The scent of tea tree clings to the air, warming my blood in a way it really shouldn’t.
God, help me, please. Why am I so drawn to this man?
“Bowls?” I question.
“Cabinet to the left of the stove.”
I turn and stretch up to pull down two bowls, then set them on the counter. A warm body moves in behind me, and I freeze as Garrison passes by and opens a drawer to retrieve spoons. The heat of his body might as well be straight from a furnace.
Oh. Boy. Trouble. I’m in big trouble here.
“You go sit. I’ve got this,” I scold, as much for my needing space as for his own safety.
Garrison chuckles. “I’m not good at being taken care of.”
“So I see. Seriously, I don’t mind. Sit.”
He leaves his kitchen and takes a seat at a small round table big enough for two.
After searching for a ladle, I finally find one and scoop white chicken chili into both bowls, then carry them to the table. When I set them down, I realize that I forgot the toppings. “I need to run next door for cheese.”
“No need. Anastasia stocked my fridge. She knows my fondness for microwaved nachos, so there’s plenty.”
“Microwaved nachos?”
He laughs. “It’s a particular favorite of mine.”
I open the fridge and find three small bags of shredded cheese. After pulling one out, I return to the table and offer him the bag.
“My parents both died when I was young, and my aunt raised me,” he explains.
“She had a lot of medical problems, and we didn’t have a lot of money, but she tried to make things special.
Every year on my birthday, she’d microwave tortilla chips after topping them with cheese and whatever we had in the pantry or fridge at the time.
It became a sort of comfort food for me. ”
My heart aches at the grief on his face. I know I don’t have to ask because, from the way he’s talking about her in past tense, he lost her.
“She passed a few months before I enlisted in the Navy.”
“Is that why you went in?”
He nods. “There wasn’t anything else for me. She was all I had, and I used every dime we had to bury her properly. Even took on some debt to do it.”
I top my chili with some cheese, imagining a young Garrison standing alone beside a casket as it was lowered into the ground. Pain blooms in my chest, so I rub the heel of my palm against it. “She sounds like a great woman.”
“She was.” He smiles softly, then reaches out. “May I say grace?”
“Oh, yeah.” Even as my fingers tremble, I slide them into his and bow my head.
“Heavenly Father, we thank You for this food. I want to thank You for this new friend sitting across from me. Please bless her and her son and be with them always. Please let this food nourish our bodies, and please be with the Hardings during this troubling time. In the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ, I pray. Amen.”
“Amen.” I pull my hand free, then take a bite of the food. The savory flavor is a welcome assault on my senses, and my stomach aches for more. “Thomas told me there was an incident at school today with Kyle Harding. Is that why you had to leave your apartment earlier?”
Something flashes over Garrison’s expression.
“If you can’t or don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”
He sighs. “This is delicious, by the way.”
“Thanks. It’s one of Thomas’s favorites.”
“I can see why.” He takes a deep breath and swirls his spoon in his bowl. “Kyle is a good kid who did something he shouldn’t have. He was afraid for his life and the lives of his mom and sister. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone; the knife was because he wanted to protect his sister.”
Pain for this poor boy makes my chest ache all over again. “He stuck up for Thomas once. He was being bullied when we first moved here, and Kyle came to his defense.”
Garrison nods, a haunted smile on his face.
“Like I said, he’s a good kid. Just makes poor choices.
The school expelled him, but his mom is going to homeschool him through a charter school so he can still graduate next year.
I’m going to spend some time with him, see if I can help him keep his nose clean until then. ”
Before we left the last town we lived in, Thomas was really struggling with his grades. His attitude was horrible, and he’d tried to run away twice, only to be brought back by the police. I can’t even imagine being in the position Kyle’s mom is in right now.
I don’t know her, but I feel for her.
“His sister has a full-time caretaker, but he can’t be trusted not to sneak out.”
“A caretaker?”
“She suffers from seizures. They’re trying some new medication to help her, but she’s in and out of school because of it. Which is why Kyle was there today. She was having a good day and was able to go to class after over a week of being stuck at home.”
“He went with her?”
Garrison nods, his expression tight. “He wanted to protect her.”
“Oh, that poor family.” My stomach twists just thinking about all that mother must be going through.
“It’s definitely been rough, but Ursula—his mom—is strong. She’s fighting through it. Anyway, you may see him hanging around my apartment.”
“That’s really kind of you.”
“I don’t want this to be the setback that derails his future. Not when he’s come as far as he has. So, I will be playing the distraction while I try to talk him through everything he’s carrying.”
“Why did he think he needed to protect his sister with a knife?” Garrison goes quiet again, and I worry that I’ve pushed too far. “You don’t have to tell me. Sorry, I’m being nosy.”
“No, it’s okay. Uh, they don’t want it to be public knowledge. And as his counselor—”
“Say no more; I completely understand. If anyone gets the need for privacy, it’s me,” I add quickly, then kick myself. Watch what you say, Katelyn.
He smiles appreciatively. “Things like this have a way of haunting a person, and Kyle has enough ghosts of his own. He’s not a risk to anyone, though. I wouldn’t allow him anywhere close to you or Thomas if he were.”
The way he speaks those words sends my heart racing because there’s no doubt in my mind that he means every single word.
This man doesn’t know us, and we don’t really know him, but there’s this feeling in my gut, this understanding, that he’d protect us if we ever needed it. And there’s a part of me relieved to know it. Especially with who I’m hiding from and what he’s capable of.
“So, Navy SEAL to counselor. How did that happen?”
He laughs. “To be honest, I think God knew I needed that community center more than they needed me.”
“Oh?”
He nods. “I was kind of just taking life day by day. I didn’t see a future beyond active duty.
So when the end came abruptly, I wasn’t really sure what to do with my life.
Pastor Reeves actually recommended me for the job.
He put in a good word for me. I worked at the center alongside the previous counselor while I got my degree.
Then, as soon as I was ready, he retired, and I’ve been running the place ever since. ”
“How long has that been?”
“Almost three years,” he replies. “I’ve been working there for just over six, though.”
“You have quite the reputation amongst the teenagers,” I tell him with a smile. “Thomas and his friends talk about the infamous SEAL team all the time.”
Garrison grins. “It definitely helped me earn the trust of some of the kids that came in. Since I come from a rough background myself—before my aunt took me in—it’s easy for me to relate to them.”
“It’s really honorable. Helping out the way you do.”
He shrugs. “It’s not me. God led me here, and He’s working in these kids’ lives. I am just humbled to be a small part of it.”
The way he speaks about God so candidly is a breath of fresh air. Thomas’ father wasn’t a believer. He’d mock me anytime I prayed. It got so bad that I would pray in silence, afraid of what he would do if he saw me.
Hiding that way is the first thing I repented for when I finally got the courage to leave. And it’s something I’ve vowed never to do again.
“How about you? How is it you came to live in our small town?”
How much to tell him? “Uh, after Thomas’ dad died, I needed a fresh start. We both did.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“We weren’t together anymore, but thanks. Life doesn’t quite go the way we have planned sometimes, does it?” I glance up and immediately regret it when I find those dark eyes trained on me. As our gazes hold, I get the impression Garrison Holt sees far more than I want him to.
Far more than he should.
“No,” he replies. “It doesn’t. I can honestly say that I’m grateful God brought you here. I wouldn’t be alive if He hadn’t.”
“Sure you would. Your other neighbor could have found you.”
“Maybe.” His gaze locks on me again. “But I’m glad it was you.”
Heat spreads through me, beginning at my cheeks and spreading down my neck. Danger. I’m in danger around this man. Not the kind I’m running from, but the kind that could lead to my heart being absolutely shattered.
“Thanks again for this. I really do feel better.” Garrison starts to stand, but I beat him to it and take his bowl.
“Sit. I’ve got it. And it’s no trouble at all. I usually cook way too much for just Thomas and me.”
“I meant what I said before. I want to make this up to you. You’ve been too kind.”
“No need. I like helping.”
“Do you have some kind of medical background?”
My muscles stiffen, but I force a smile. “What do you mean?”
“I was in and out of it when you found me after I’d been stabbed, but I do remember you were proficient in saving my life. Then, after the whole pepper-spray incident, you knew just what to do and how to answer the questions of the paramedics. So it just had me curious.”
My pulse kicks up a notch, and my hands begin to tremble as the familiar panic sets in. Breathe, Katelyn. He’s just asking questions like you did.
“Uh, I was a nurse for a bit when Thomas was little.”
“I can see that,” he says. I can hear the smile in his friendly tone, but can’t bring myself to turn around just yet.
Not when the fear is likely plastered on my face.
“Why don’t you work as a nurse anymore?”
“Just wasn’t what I felt like doing when we moved.” My tone is clipped, and with how intuitive he seems to be, I know Garrison picked up on it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Smile through it. Turning, I plaster what I hope is a natural-looking smile on my face. “No apology necessary. I’m just tired. It’s been a day.”
Garrison nods. “Same here. Thanks again for dinner. I fully plan to return the favor as soon as I can.” He pushes to his feet, his movements labored, given the soreness he’s likely battling. That, coupled with his still-healing lungs, I imagine he’s about ready to fall over.
“Can I do anything else for you?” I ask, fighting the urge to rush over and steady him when he places a hand on the wall.
“Nah, I can manage. Thanks, though. If you leave the crockpot, I can wash it and get it back to you. It’s the least I can do.”
“Nope. Not a chance, Mr. Holt.” I lift it and head for the door. “If you need me, you know how to find me.”
“I do,” he replies as he follows me toward the door. I don’t miss the way he lingers close to the wall, likely to reach out and steady himself should he need to. “Thank you, Katelyn. I seriously cannot tell you how much I appreciate everything.”
“Stop thanking me. I am the reason for your healing setback after all.”
He laughs softly. “If it meant getting to know you better, I’d let you pepper-spray me all over again.”
I swallow hard, his words a punch of desire to my gut. Even though his tone and expression are light enough that he likely meant nothing by it.
“Yeah, well, let’s not do that again. Have a good night, Garrison.”
“You, too, Katelyn.”
He lingers near the door even as I make my way over to mine. And when I set the crockpot down and unlock my door, I risk a glance over at him only to find him still watching.
Garrison raises a hand to wave, so I return the gesture before picking up the crockpot and heading into my apartment.
I set the small appliance down on my entry table and lock my door, then lean back against it and run both hands over my face as the image of Garrison, freshly showered, leaning against his door jamb, fills my mind.
Letting anyone close is a risk. Especially when that ‘anyone’ is an incredibly handsome, well-trained Navy SEAL who also happens to be a counselor. How many of my secrets could I accidentally spill if I got too comfortable around him?
Distance.
That’s what I need to put between us.
Distance is safe.
Walls are good.
Otherwise, who knows what could happen?