Chapter 13
Katelyn
Even though he changed the sheets, Garrison’s room smells just like him. A heady combination of tea tree and pine that seeps straight down into my bones. Before I’ve even opened my eyes for the day, I snuggle down closer beneath his blankets.
Here, in the privacy of his room, I can let my walls down.
I can let myself dream, pretending—even if for a moment—that this is my current reality. That Garrison Holt is the one I’m coming home to every night. That I spent a night wrapped in his strong arms, rather than sleeping alone in his room because my apartment was destroyed.
Oh no. What am I going to do?
The realization that my to-do list is a mile longer than even my busiest day has me opening my eyes and groaning.
First, get Thomas to school.
Then call Maddie and Anastasia. I’ll need the day off so I can coordinate everything.
Thankfully, I’ve already paid the bills for this month, and with the new job at the coffee shop, I was able to pay for Thomas’ baseball camp and still put a little aside for a rainy-day fund.
Which I will unfortunately have to use a lot sooner than I’d planned.
After taking a deep breath, I throw the blankets aside and swing my legs over the edge. As I do every morning, I bow my head and fold my hands.
Lord, thank You for this day. Thank You for being with us through the storm last night and for keeping both Thomas and me safe.
And God, thank You for Garrison. Please walk with me today and guide me through the steps I will need to take to get everything taken care of.
I’m struggling, God, and I know I can’t do this without You. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.
Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t have time to cry. So, I quickly wipe them away as I stand.
The room is still dark, so there should still be time to take care of everything I need to before getting Thomas to school. Without the ability to make breakfast, we’ll need to swing by the diner, which will work out because then I can talk to Maddie directly rather than on the phone.
Maybe I can swing by the coffee shop on my way home.
I grip the handle of the door and pull it open, only to be assaulted by bright sunlight. As my eyes adjust, I note the open door across from me. The bed has been made, and Thomas is nowhere to be seen.
Pulse kicking up a notch, I rush down the hall.
Garrison is seated at his table, a Bible open in front of him, a steaming mug of coffee beside him.
But I don’t see Thomas. My palms begin to sweat, and I continue forward. Surely he’s here somewhere. He has to be.
Garrison turns toward me and smiles. “Hey. Want some coffee?”
“Where’s Thomas? What time is it?” I demand, my tone sharp.
“He’s at school,” Garrison replies. A line forms between his brows as his smile falls slightly. “It’s almost nine.”
“Nine?” I screech. I missed getting him off to school and the start of my shift at Anastasia’s!
“Relax, I walked Thomas to school this morning and let Anastasia know what happened. She said to take the day.”
“You walked my son to school?” I stare at him as he stands, trying to understand why this is happening. Why would he walk my son to school? Why did I take him up on his offer last night? I should have stayed in my apartment. Should have insisted on it.
“I did. He said that sometimes he walks himself, but since you were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you up and ask to confirm.” Garrison moves into the kitchen and points to a sticky note on the counter. “We even left you a note just in case.”
“That’s not your job.”
Garrison turns toward me, and something passes over his features.
It’s quick enough that, had I not been so in tune with the body language of others, I likely would have missed it.
“I never said it was. He needed to get to school, and you needed sleep. I figured it would be fine, but I am sorry if I overstepped; that wasn’t my intention. ”
Of course it wasn’t. Because Garrison Holt is not the type of man to overstep. Which is why he insisted on helping me last night and pushed me into staying here when I could have been perfectly comfortable sleeping in my tub.
I’ve done it before. I could have done it again.
Sudden anger surges through me. It doesn’t matter that I recognize it as irrational; it’s there. Burning hot and fast before I can stop it.
“I don’t need you to take care of me. I’ve been doing just fine on my own for the last thirteen years.”
“Katelyn, I’m not trying to take care of you. I’m trying to help.”
“Why? Why do you care enough to help?”
I expect anger from him. I expect that mask he surely wears to slip away, revealing the monster beneath. What I don’t expect, in any way, shape, or form, is the kindness that remains on his face.
Or the way his shoulders slump forward ever so slightly.
“Because you’re a great mom and Thomas is a great kid.
Because you’re two people who deserved a dry, safe place to sleep last night.
Or, maybe it’s because I genuinely care about what happens to the woman who saved my life and cared enough to bring me trays of food so I wouldn’t go hungry.
” He comes around the kitchen island, each step bringing him closer to me.
A part of me wants to run.
To flee so the anger that surely simmers beneath the surface of his cool facade doesn’t explode on me.
But there’s a stronger voice cutting through the fear. And this one assures me that Garrison will never hurt me. Not on purpose, at least. So I remain rooted in my spot as he comes to a stop right in front of me.
“Take your pick, Katelyn,” he says softly. “But if you want the truth, it’s all three.”
I stare up at him, my gaze locking on his while I try to understand why he seems to care.
Especially since I happen to be the reason he wound up back in the hospital that second time.
Sure, I tried to make up for it by doing something nice, but standing here in his living room, looking into his kind, dark gaze, I get the impression it has nothing to do with what I did and everything to do with who he is.
A man who wants to do good in a world riddled with darkness.
“Thank you,” I reply. Every ounce of my anger deflates like an old balloon. “And I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Garrison says. He reaches toward me, and I flinch out of habit.
Embarrassment floods me as Garrison drops his hand and his expression shifts to one of understanding.
“I do need to apologize because I was rude.” I take a step back, needing distance before I do something stupid and lean in so he’ll do exactly what it was he was thinking about when he raised that hand. Was he going to run his fingertips over my cheek? Brush hair behind my ear?
“You woke up and found your son gone. That’s not rude. Can I get you some coffee?”
“I could definitely use some.” I smile. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem at all.” As he starts making my coffee, using an impressive-looking espresso machine on his counter, I am helpless to look away. The strong muscles of his arms shift with each movement.
Victor was a quarterback, and his lithe runner’s body gave him the speed he needed to weave through the other team’s defense. My stomach churns as the memories assault me. The handsome quarterback with a bright future. A real-life Prince Charming…or so everyone thought.
They had no idea what happened when the doors closed.
Or the truth of the nightmare that led me to be on the arm of the sport world’s most eligible bachelor. No one but his brother…who is even more of a monster than Victor ever was.
Victor may not have been a muscular man, but his hands were violent.
Garrison, on the other hand, is built like a fighter, yet I know, without a doubt, his touch would be tender.
In another life.
Back before my innocence was ripped away. Before I was forced to live a life of lies until I was finally strong enough to fight back.
Before I had to run.
That’s the lifetime when something between Garrison Holt and me could have been possible. And as I sit here in the kitchen, watching him, I let myself imagine what that might have been like.
With the addition, of course, of my sweet boy. Because, no matter what I had to go through, I’d suffer through it all over again for Thomas.
Where would Garrison and I have met?
What would we have done on our first date?
Would I have fallen deeply in love with him? Somehow, I think I already know the answer to that. Probably because, as much as I’m trying to deny it, the feelings I already have for him are very, very real.
Garrison slides the mug over toward me. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” I shutter my fantasy, burying it deep down, and take a sip of coffee. As the gingerbread spice dances on my tongue, I nearly groan in absolute delight. “Anastasia should have hired you. This is amazing. Where did you get gingerbread syrup in the spring?”
He laughs then winks at me. “I have my ways. And I’m glad you like it.” After rinsing everything he used, Garrison lifts his own mug and turns to face me. I find myself captivated once again by those gorgeous eyes and the way they seem to bore straight through me.
Is that why he’s so good at his job? Why he’s able to connect with the teenagers no one else can reach?
I’ve spent a lot of years living in the shadows.
Choosing to remain hidden was about survival.
But standing here, feeling seen by this man—it’s the safest I’ve felt in a long, long time.
There’s a voice in the back of my mind, though.
A warning that, even though I feel safe, I’m at risk of losing something I vowed never to offer up: my heart.
“So, I’ll give Geoff a call today and see if he can get someone over to help with my apartment. We’ll be out of your hair this afternoon.”