Page 6 of A Lonely Road (Spruce Hill #2)

Chapter Five

Nora

W ith my head bent, intent on my computer screen as I debated appropriate idioms, I didn’t notice the man coming toward me until he rapped his knuckles on the lacquered table and scared the living hell out of me.

Reflexively, I closed the laptop and slid it into my bag, rising from the booth as though I'd planned to leave at that particular moment anyway. I had enough experience with drunks to know it was better to cut my losses and get the hell out of there.

“Hey, baby,” the man slurred.

When I glanced at him, my body jerked in surprise and my heart slammed into my throat.

He looked a little too much like a ghost from my past, but the resemblance faded as I took in the details—the hair was a similar light, mousy brown, but his face was too narrow.

This guy was thin and wiry, with bloodshot eyes and a look on his face that I knew only too well.

One couldn’t make a habit of working in bars without dealing with his type now and again.

“How about a drink, pretty girl?”

My muscles tensed, more at his smarmy tone than the words themselves. Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm . “Thanks for the offer, but I was just leaving.”

“Aw, come on, just one drink. I’m good company, baby, I promise you that.” His gaze traveled over my body in a way that made me feel like I needed a shower. “Oh yeah, we’d be good together. You’ll see. I’ve got all night.”

“Thank you,” I said woodenly, “but no. Like I said, I was just leaving.”

I started to turn away, but the man’s hand shot out to grab my wrist faster than I expected, given the way he was weaving on his feet.

The reaction was ingrained; without thinking, I rotated my arm around to break his hold, grabbed the man’s wrist in return, spun him around, and twisted it hard behind his back until he dropped to his knees with a sharp, startled cry.

“Shit, okay, I’m sorry!” he shrieked. “Fuck, let go!”

I released him immediately, drawing my hand back to my chest in an attempt to slow my racing heart.

The man scrambled to his feet and scurried back to the bar, leaving me staring at Jake, who approached us just as the guy hit the floor.

The laughing taunts of the man’s friends pounded in my ears, keeping time with the loud thud of my own racing pulse.

“I have to go,” I whispered, reaching for my bag.

“Nora, wait. Please wait. Let me walk you home. Christ, are you okay?”

Jake grabbed the bag before I could, slinging it across his chest as he studied me.

I wasn’t sure what exactly he was seeing, but even after years without a panic attack, I could imagine well enough—white as a ghost, my eyes too wide against my face, breath coming in little gasps that threatened to give way to hyperventilation.

That pathetic image shook me out of my panic, at least a little bit, and irritation rose in its place.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” I snapped.

“No,” Jake agreed easily, “I can see that you don’t. But it’s dark out, so I’d feel better with you at my side for my own protection. Let’s go.”

My brain was buzzing so fast, I didn’t even flinch when he set his hand on the small of my back and steered me out into the night air. It was easier to breathe out there, but we only made it half a block before a strangled sob tore from my throat.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I gasped.

Jake grabbed my shoulders and gently guided me down until I was seated on the curb. He crouched in front of me, and the familiarity of his face—even with the dimple nowhere in sight—was enough to quell the nausea .

“Breathe for me, Nora, you’re okay. You’re safe. It’s going to be okay.”

The shuddering breaths that whistled past my lips were all I could manage, leaving me lightheaded and shaky.

Jake shifted to sit on the curb beside me and cupped his hand around the back of my neck, easing my head downward until it rested between my knees.

He released my neck to smooth his hand in a wide arc across my back.

Beneath his palm, my entire body trembled, but his warmth seeped into my skin, covering me like a blanket.

“Just breathe,” he murmured. “There you go. Keep on breathing for me, just like that. You’re safe now.”

Slowly, the shaking waned and the tightness in my lungs eased. It was only then that embarrassment flooded me, replacing both panic and adrenaline. I knew I should move, scoot away or stand up maybe, but the way he was stroking my back was so soothing, I couldn’t bear to make him stop just yet.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “Oh, Christ. I just attacked someone in your restaurant.”

Jake’s short laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “No. Hell no. Nora, you defended yourself. He put his hands on you first. I saw the way he was looking at you. I’m so sorry, I should have gotten to him before he ever had the chance to touch you. What you did was in self-defense. You were amazing.”

As soon as I could draw a decent breath, I sat up slowly and covered my face with my hands.

I didn’t tell him to stop, so Jake continued that slow sweep of his hand over my back.

It felt good. Right, even, like some internal magnet under my muscles had latched onto one in his palm and refused to let go.

After a long moment, I finally managed to draw a deep inhalation into my lungs. The breath still trembled through my frame, but at least I was confident that I was finally getting enough oxygen.

“I should get home,” I said quietly. “You really don’t have to escort me. I’m sorry, Jake.”

Part of me wanted to cry, another part wanted the concrete below to swallow me and my humiliation in one gulp. The final, tiny part that I fought so hard to resist wanted nothing more than to lean into Jake’s warm, reassuring touch.

As if he’d heard those thoughts, Jake’s hand slid up to the back of my neck so he could tip my face toward him.

He waited until I met his eyes to say, “Stop apologizing. You were just assaulted in my restaurant, so I’m damn well making certain you get home okay. Are you sure you’re ready to stand up?”

I nodded and gratefully grasped his other hand when he held it out to help me to my feet. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Mortification trickled painfully through me, weighing down my limbs as I stood, but it slowly gave way to a numbness that settled in my brain. Still, I didn’t pull my hand away as we continued toward home, clinging to the comfort Jake seemed so ready to provide.

Low profile: gone.

“You’re pretty badass,” he murmured.

My laugh was barely more than a rush of breath, but a relieved smile ghosted across his lips at the sound.

“Or pretty neurotic,” I replied. “He was probably harmless.”

When he didn’t respond right away, I glanced up at him and saw his features harden into an expression I’d never seen on his handsome face before.

Cute Neighbor had transformed into a knight ready to avenge my honor, and for once, I wasn’t insulted by the thought of someone else trying to protect me.

Those blue eyes softened when he looked down at me and shook his head.

“You said no. If he was harmless, he would've left it at that and kept his fucking hands off you.”

I fell silent, thinking as much about Jake’s reaction as about the scene I’d caused.

It had been a long time since I’d been comfortable enough to hold hands with someone, but I was afraid if I broke that small connection, lost even that tiny point of contact, I might fall apart again.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, until we reached the wooden stairs up to my apartment.

I reluctantly dropped his hand and turned to take my bag from him.

Jake handed it over, but he shook his head again when he saw my expression. “If you’re planning to apologize again, don’t. You did nothing wrong. Nothing .”

Standing there in the falling darkness, I suddenly felt achingly lonely.

Jake hesitated for only a heartbeat, then pursed his lips like he was throwing caution to the wind before he reached out and touched my cheek.

It was only the barest brush of his fingertips against my skin, but my eyelids fluttered at the gentle intimacy of it.

That reaction seemed to embolden him, so he cupped my face in his warm palm and waited for me to open my eyes again.

“I’m sorry you were hurt.”

The way he said it sounded like he meant something beyond the evening’s mishap, like he could see into my past. I lifted my hand to cover his. “I’m okay,” I replied, even as I wondered if it was true.

“Nora,” he breathed, his thumb stroking my cheek.

He closed his eyes like he was in pain, and when he opened them, the full intensity of his blue gaze zeroed in on me.

“I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but if it’s okay with you, I really feel like I need to hold onto you for a minute. If you’re willing to let me, I mean.”

Everything inside me softened and warmed as I moved unconsciously toward him, sliding my arms around his waist without hesitation. He encircled me with his own, warm and strong, like they were shoring up my defenses.

Except for once it felt like someone else was inside those walls, helping me from within.

God, it felt good to be held like this, I realized, a bit dazed.

Sturdy and solid, with his heart beating steadily under my ear, Jake ran his hands slowly up and down my back while his chin came to rest against the top of my head.

I sighed and all the tension in my back and shoulders drained away until I felt almost limp with relief .

“Is this okay?” he murmured into my hair.

I laughed against his sternum. “This is more than okay, I think.”

“Good, because it feels damn near heavenly to me.”

It was a long time before I finally drew back and I missed his embrace immediately.

Reluctant to fracture the soft sense of peace surrounding us, I touched my fingers tentatively to the line of his jaw, the caress so light that he shivered at the sensation.

Jake held as still as he could, his arms at his sides, and waited for me to speak.

“I should probably try to get some sleep. Thank you, Jake. I hope I didn’t screw anything up for your business tonight.”

“You didn’t screw up anything, period. Go to bed and try to relax, okay?"

I nodded, then watched as he reached into his wallet for a business card with a golden mermaid tail across the front. When he held it out, I took it and ran my fingertip over the embossed print.

"Here, so you have my number if you need me. Night, Nora.”

He caught my hands in his and squeezed lightly.

I closed my eyes for a second, doubting his reassurances but letting them fill me up nonetheless, crystallizing into something like a fragile sense of hope.

Even with the aftereffects of the confrontation still skittering through my veins, something had changed between us tonight.

Accepting comfort from Jake had melted the remainder of my resistance .

“Goodnight, Jake,” I whispered.

Releasing his hands, I took a tiny step back, then another. I turned and trudged up the stairs, all the while feeling his eyes on my back like a brand.

Something had definitely changed.