Page 42
Story: Shelter from the Storm
“You have a beautiful smile and a beautiful laugh. Why cover them up?”
Gretchen glanced down at their hands. “I didn’t realize I was.” He could see the earnestness in her response. “I’ll try to stop.”
“Good. You should never hide your happiness. And don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of chances to practice,” he reassured her.
“I will?”
Theo wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him. “Of course. Because you’re hanging out with me, and I’m freaking hilarious.”
Gretchen giggled, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “I guess you are kinda funny…looking.”
“Is that right?” Theo tightened his grip, holding her in place as he ruffled her hair playfully, as punishment for her joke.
Gretchen froze for a split second, but the tension was mercifully brief before she started to fight him off, laughing loudly, the two of them tussling like a couple of teenagers.
They stopped when they heard the screen door open.
Edith spotted them, rolling her eyes in amusement at their antics. “When you’re finished flirting, Theodore Storm, I need help loading my pies into the car for tonight’s dance.”
They untangled themselves, rising, both intent on lending her a hand. Edith walked back into the house, but before Gretchen could follow, he reached out, lightly grasping her wrist.
“Save a dance for me tonight.” He probably should have worded that as a request rather than an outright demand, but he was desperate to hold her in his arms, and dancing felt like the easiest, quickest way to get there.
Gretchen pulled her wrist away, and he was subjected to the first serious bit of reticence he’d seen from her all day. “I don’t dance.”
“You do tonight. With me.” Theo stepped closer, slowly moving into her personal space. If she tried to put distance between them, he would stop, but Gretchen held her ground.
Actually, she did one better, drawing in a slow, deep breath, then shifting a miniscule bit closer to him, though her actions felt more like her testing herself rather than tempting him.
Even after everything he’d learned about her upbringing, Theo still felt as if he was in the dark. Today, he’d pulled back one layer of the onion, but there were too many left to go.
“Okay. I’ll save you a dance,” she whispered, her gaze drifting to his lips.
Fuck him. There was no way he was going to be able to hold himself back for much longer if she kept daring him to kiss her.
Unfortunately, she stepped away before he could throw caution to the wind, wrap his hand around her neck, and kiss her with reckless abandon.
She turned, starting to head into the house again. “After all, I suppose I should take pity on you. Since you’re so funny,” she paused for effect, “looking.”
“Shameless hussy,” he called out after her as she took off running, slamming the screen door in his face when he started to give chase.
Gretchen laughed loudly as she turned to face him through the door, her smile completely unobstructed by her hand.
Beautiful.
Chapter Eight
Gretchen walked around the event barn, taking an inventory of the tables and chairs that had been delivered. She wanted to make sure they’d received the full order and nothing had arrived damaged. She was on week five of Operation New Life, and every day kept getting better and better.
She and Edith truly were becoming besties. Most evenings, the two of them worked together in the kitchen, cooking dinner, drinking wine, and talking about their days. Edith was an amazing cook, and she’d been teaching Gretchen how to make some of her “world famous” recipes.
Since coming clean to Edith about her parents and Shaw and Briggs, they’d spent a great deal of time talking about what Gretchen had gone through, and Edith had offered insights that left her thinking differently about everything that had happened, and her emotions and reactions toward those events. She’d encouraged Gretchen to stop viewing herself as a victim or helpless, but as a survivor, someone who’d emerged stronger and wiser.
Edith had missed her calling, because she would have made one hell of a therapist.
Manny dined with them at least three times a week. Like Edith, he was a born storyteller, so most nights ended with the three of them falling about, laughing their asses off.
The Storm family had also taken her under their wing, including her in all their fun after-hours plans. They were huge fans of cookouts and firepits, so in a little over a month, Gretchen had found herself chowing down on grilled burgers and hot dogs around a bonfire no less than five times. She was becoming quite the accomplished s’mores connoisseur, as she and Remi experimented with different flavors of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.
Gretchen glanced down at their hands. “I didn’t realize I was.” He could see the earnestness in her response. “I’ll try to stop.”
“Good. You should never hide your happiness. And don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of chances to practice,” he reassured her.
“I will?”
Theo wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him. “Of course. Because you’re hanging out with me, and I’m freaking hilarious.”
Gretchen giggled, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “I guess you are kinda funny…looking.”
“Is that right?” Theo tightened his grip, holding her in place as he ruffled her hair playfully, as punishment for her joke.
Gretchen froze for a split second, but the tension was mercifully brief before she started to fight him off, laughing loudly, the two of them tussling like a couple of teenagers.
They stopped when they heard the screen door open.
Edith spotted them, rolling her eyes in amusement at their antics. “When you’re finished flirting, Theodore Storm, I need help loading my pies into the car for tonight’s dance.”
They untangled themselves, rising, both intent on lending her a hand. Edith walked back into the house, but before Gretchen could follow, he reached out, lightly grasping her wrist.
“Save a dance for me tonight.” He probably should have worded that as a request rather than an outright demand, but he was desperate to hold her in his arms, and dancing felt like the easiest, quickest way to get there.
Gretchen pulled her wrist away, and he was subjected to the first serious bit of reticence he’d seen from her all day. “I don’t dance.”
“You do tonight. With me.” Theo stepped closer, slowly moving into her personal space. If she tried to put distance between them, he would stop, but Gretchen held her ground.
Actually, she did one better, drawing in a slow, deep breath, then shifting a miniscule bit closer to him, though her actions felt more like her testing herself rather than tempting him.
Even after everything he’d learned about her upbringing, Theo still felt as if he was in the dark. Today, he’d pulled back one layer of the onion, but there were too many left to go.
“Okay. I’ll save you a dance,” she whispered, her gaze drifting to his lips.
Fuck him. There was no way he was going to be able to hold himself back for much longer if she kept daring him to kiss her.
Unfortunately, she stepped away before he could throw caution to the wind, wrap his hand around her neck, and kiss her with reckless abandon.
She turned, starting to head into the house again. “After all, I suppose I should take pity on you. Since you’re so funny,” she paused for effect, “looking.”
“Shameless hussy,” he called out after her as she took off running, slamming the screen door in his face when he started to give chase.
Gretchen laughed loudly as she turned to face him through the door, her smile completely unobstructed by her hand.
Beautiful.
Chapter Eight
Gretchen walked around the event barn, taking an inventory of the tables and chairs that had been delivered. She wanted to make sure they’d received the full order and nothing had arrived damaged. She was on week five of Operation New Life, and every day kept getting better and better.
She and Edith truly were becoming besties. Most evenings, the two of them worked together in the kitchen, cooking dinner, drinking wine, and talking about their days. Edith was an amazing cook, and she’d been teaching Gretchen how to make some of her “world famous” recipes.
Since coming clean to Edith about her parents and Shaw and Briggs, they’d spent a great deal of time talking about what Gretchen had gone through, and Edith had offered insights that left her thinking differently about everything that had happened, and her emotions and reactions toward those events. She’d encouraged Gretchen to stop viewing herself as a victim or helpless, but as a survivor, someone who’d emerged stronger and wiser.
Edith had missed her calling, because she would have made one hell of a therapist.
Manny dined with them at least three times a week. Like Edith, he was a born storyteller, so most nights ended with the three of them falling about, laughing their asses off.
The Storm family had also taken her under their wing, including her in all their fun after-hours plans. They were huge fans of cookouts and firepits, so in a little over a month, Gretchen had found herself chowing down on grilled burgers and hot dogs around a bonfire no less than five times. She was becoming quite the accomplished s’mores connoisseur, as she and Remi experimented with different flavors of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.
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