8. Let Me
Let Me
Melody
He came, just like he said he would. Marcus was trudged out to the driveway, mumbling something about how much he hated school. Miriam spent the morning doing something with the cows before letting them out of the barn to graze for the day, and ran in her work boots.
“Miriam!” I called, her tennis shoes in my hands.
She started running back, and I threw them at her.
She caught them, and hopped around on foot to foot, changing her shoes without her socks hitting the dirt.
She threw her cow pie covered boots towards the porch.
I picked them up and put them by the door, mentally making a note to rinse them off later.
Once the two of them were out of view, Greg’s truck rumbled into the driveway. He was smiling when he got out of his car, meeting me at the base of the steps.
I wondered if I had cow pie on my hands, and self-consciously kept them behind my back.
“You alright?” He reached out and tugged a strand of hair on my face, curling it behind my ear.
My heart fluttered, and I held my breath, unwilling to disturb the moment as his bright green eyes dazzled me.
They reminded me of the moment I had crested the mountain and entered Mourningkill Valley in all its summer glory; when the sun beat down, almost making the grass and trees glow like something that belonged in a dream.
“I’m fine. Just a late night.” I stifled a yawn.
“Couldn’t sleep?” He looked genuinely worried about my sleeping habits. Did I look that awful?
I wiped at my face, as if I could somehow know what I looked like by feeling the puffy bags under my eyes.
“No, I had to work. Got in a few extra hours so that I could take tonight off.” Whatever happened, I couldn’t bear the idea of getting on the phone with angry customers afterwards. It was too much for one soul to take.
“Right. You work nights.” Not a question. Just a statement. Like he wanted me to know he knew what I did for a living.
“I said farewell to my circadian rhythm months ago.” It was fine. Everything was fine. “I’ve been slowly losing my sanity ever since.”
“Sanity’s overrated.” He winked. And my stupid heart fluttered just a little more, and I melted into my shoes.
I shivered, pulling my shirt tight around me as the cool outside air breezed in.
“Truck’s running, the heat’s going.” He stepped back, giving me room to step out while I fixated on the fact that he must have noticed I was cold.
“Let me just get my wallet,” I said as an excuse to run inside and wash my hands…but also to get my wallet and phone. Once I was ready, and had a chance to throw some water on my face, I looked at the bags under my eyes and shrugged. There was nothing I could do about it now.
I closed the door behind me—locking it tightly—and let the keys jangle as the fuzzy yellow ball of my keychain spun. Stuffing the big thing into the pocket of my thick flannel, I dug my hands in to keep them warm.
I had gloves. They were nice and made of soft leather, but they’d been a gift from Luke. I hated that about them. But the gloves didn’t mean any harm. Though, I was pretty sure Marc or Miriam took them, because they were not where I had left them on the hook by the front door.
Greg opened the passenger door of his truck like he was some prince holding a carriage door on our way to a fantasy ball. He almost bowed his head as I passed him, holding out a hand in case I needed to steady myself.
Chivalry. I thought it was dead, but it was actually alive and well in this guy.
And it didn’t feel forced. It didn’t feel as if he were trying to show off or win me over, but it was simply something he did naturally.
Because he was considerate and kind. Paired with his fierce eyes, that was one hell of a lethal combination.
He shut the door while I tugged on the seatbelt to buckle myself in, but I watched like a lovesick puppy as he walked around the front of the truck.
Get it together, Mel, before you creep him out.
I put my hands out over his large vents. The heat was blasting, and I wanted to moan in satisfaction as it almost scalded my icy fingers.
Even though I hated being cold, I loved the fall and winter in upstate New York. It didn’t make sense, but it was just as I hated this town despite the magic in the valley.
The truck shifted under his weight as he pulled himself into the seat, smirking at me. He bit his lip then slowly let it slide out, looking thicker and pinker as his tongue darted out to wet them.
“You should”—he swallowed, his eyes falling down my body—“pull the seat back. Get some shut eye for a minute. It’ll be about an hour to get to the Forensic Pathology Facility. You should try to get some rest.”
I bristled, suddenly clamping my arms around my waist.
“No…” I said, breaking eye contact. Breaking the hold his eyes had on me. “I don’t sleep well in cars.”
Lies. A bad one, too. I could feel that he didn’t believe me.
I looked at him, because curiosity was going to kill me. What I saw in his expression was exactly as I’d suspected. Doubt and a healthy dose of sympathy. He looked so sad, I almost told him the truth. I almost let it slip.
I didn’t sleep well unless I was alone. I didn’t like to be unconscious when someone could do anything to me…and I wouldn’t be able to fight back. It was my absolute nightmare to be catatonic and feeling someone doing things to me.
“Your eyes are going to do me in,” he whispered. “I swear, I’m going to fall right into them, and never climb my way out.”
I gasped. I felt exactly the same.
He reached out, his knuckles grazing my cheek.
“I’m as cooked as a hot dog on the fourth of July,” he said with a chuckle.
“That’s not fair,” I mumbled.
I reached out, too. Because apparently this was okay, now. I ran the very tips of my fingers over a wavy lock that had fallen forward on his face, curling right below his eye before tightening into a spiral ending at his jaw line. It was soft. He obviously took care of it.
“What’s not fair?” He wrapped his thick fingers around my forearm, pulling it in until his lips grazed the inside of my wrist.
Not a kiss. Just a soft touch of lips and breath.
I had never felt anything more intimate.
“You’re too nice to me.” I pulled away fast, almost knocking my elbow onto the door with my disjointed movement. Graceful, Mel. Real graceful. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Doesn’t make sense?” He flinched too, grabbing the strand of hair I’d been playing with and tucking it behind his ear.
Then he did the absolute sluttiest thing a man has ever done in the history of mankind. He pulled the hair tie off his wrist, bunched his long hair in a fist, wrapped it into a ponytail, and secured it at the top of his head. Like a fucking Viking warrior who was half sex god!
I watched every single nanosecond, imagining what he’d look like wearing nothing but that damn tie.
Then he broke eye contact, put the car in gear, and let the tires crunch down the gravel to the main road.
Moment over. And somehow, I was pretty sure it was all my fault.
I stared forward, worrying my fingers on my lap, twisting them until the knuckles cracked. My leg started bouncing, and why the fuck was he not playing any music in here? He was just letting us ride in absolute silence! What kind of serial killer did that?
Twisting my right thumb with my left hand—because I needed to do something to take my mind off being in a car with an absolute heartthrob of a man, in silence, wondering about the absolute freak he thought I was—I bit my lower lip.
That wasn’t enough. So I bit the inside of my cheek until the skin was scraped raw, and I tasted blood. Still, I kept my mouth shut, trying to make sure I didn’t say anything else to make me seem stranger than I already did.
“I like you.”
His voice made me jump, and I almost squealed in surprise.
“What?”
“I like you.” His big hand reached over the center console, his hot palm scraping the back of my much smaller one as his fingers interlaced with mine, his index finger deftly prying my thumb from my hand. “That’s why it makes sense.”
I stared at the side of his face and blinked as we passed under another toll camera.
“What?” I said again, my brain as scrambled like morning eggs.
“You said I was too nice to you, and that it didn’t make sense. I’m saying that it makes perfect sense because I like you.” He spoke slowly, like he wanted me to understand every word, but it also made me feel like I was an idiot.
“I don’t understand.” Probably the most honest thing I’d said all day.
“What’s to understand? You’re easy on the eyes. You’re kind, and you love your family. You’re smart, and I’m drawn to you.” He shrugged, thumb slowly massaging the inside of my palm; the gesture sent heat up my forearm and, for some reason, my tense shoulders suddenly relaxed.
“But I’m…none of those things.” I had only ever been those things to one man, and even in that, I had been a stand in for someone else.
My mother was the looker. I got enough from her that I could come across as decent, given enough effort, rest, makeup, clothes…but beautiful? That was out of reach. Especially now.
“You are. But I like you for a lot of reasons, and I’m finding more every time we talk. That’s how it’s meant to be, right?” He shrugged. “Unless you’re trying to let me down easy because you’re not interested. That’s fine, too. Won’t change my feelings any, but it will make me back off if you’re—”
“No.”
His hand froze. His jaw tensed. “Okay. I get it—”
He started to pull away.
“No…I mean…” I rushed to speak, my fingers tightening around his, holding him to me and keeping the connection. “I mean I don’t want you to back off. I’m interested.”
“You don’t have to be, you know?” He whispered, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “I know I’m a lot.”
“You are.” I scoffed. “But not in the way you think.”