Page 14

14

Ella

J ack reads the sign as he turns into the parking lot. “Compassionate Assisted Living.” He looks at me in mock horror as he maneuvers into a parking spot. “Are you about to make me play bingo?”

“You told me to do what I normally do on Saturday,” I explain brightly as I grab the container of cookies from the floor next to my feet and hop to the ground.

We meet at the back of the vehicle. Butterflies go crazy in my stomach when he grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers as we walk to the door. His touch grounds me in its strength.

I’m excited and nervous to bring Jack here. This is my home away from home. I started volunteering here almost immediately after moving to Nashville. Besides my career, coming here multiple times a week is one of the things that made me the happiest over the last few years. And if I’m being honest, the residents and staff are some of my only friends in town besides Maggie.

And maybe Jack.

Though I’m not sure if we are considered friends after last night. But it’s confusing to think about right now, so I let it go.

The second we step inside, my name is bellowed from down the hall. “Ella! I thought you were going to stand us up again! Did you bring cookies today like you promised?”

Jack gives a soft laugh from beside me as Frank, one of my favorite residents, ambles toward us, his suspenders barely holding up his pants as he shuffles down the hall. Frank is an almost eighty-year-old who’s as ornery as he is kind. He’s very particular about his schedule but is the nicest man, as long as that isn’t interrupted.

I hold up the container. “Sure did! And they’re your favorite.”

He snatches the container out of my hand with surprising speed for someone his age. “I knew I could count on you for my sugar fix.” He gives me a reproachful glare. “I was expecting you here last Saturday, and you never came.”

I knew I would hear about missing my visit, but I didn’t want to tell him about the car accident.

“I know, Frank. I was exhausted last weekend. I hated that I couldn’t be here.”

He harrumphs as he gives me an appraising look. “I guess I can overlook it. You missed a mean bingo game. I won three rounds!”

I laugh. He never wins, so that really is something noteworthy. “Wow, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to celebrate with you!”

“Well, maybe I can be a big winner again today.”

“I’m ready to see you win.” My hand is still engulfed by Jack’s, so with my free hand, I pat Jack’s bicep. “Frank, this is my friend, Jack. He’s here to play with us today.” I look up at Jack, who’s watching me with an amused expression. “Jack, this is Frank. One of my favorite residents here.”

Frank beams as he rubs his rotund belly before extending it to shake Jack’s hand. “Damn straight, I am. Nice to meet you, Jack.”

“You too, Frank.”

Warmth lights up my body when Jack’s hand slides around my lower back and settles on my hip as the three of us continue chatting as we make our way to the entertainment room. I lift my eyes to his as we enter the spacious room, and he throws me a wink. My cheeks instantly heat.

There are numerous tables set up, most of which are filled, but there are a few open spots at the back tables. I greet residents I know as I grab bingo sheets and dabbers from a table by the door, pulling Jack with me to the left of the room.

As we approach one of the tables, Dorothy looks up. Her eyes widen in surprise as she takes in Jack and me.

Dorothy is one of the residents I’m the closest with. She reminds me so much of Clara. When I told her about my childhood, she stepped even more into the motherly role for me. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through the last year without her.

She stands, and I release Jack’s hand to give her a hug.

“Ella, who is this hunk you have with you?” she whispers in my ear.

I attempt to suppress my laugh as I pull back. “Dorothy, this is Jack. Jack, this is Dorothy.”

Warmth fills me when his hand finds my lower back as he reaches out to shake hers with the other. “It’s nice to meet you, Dorothy. ”

She hums softly, appraising him as we take our seats. “Likewise.”

Frank joins us at our table and spends the next few minutes telling Jack how skilled a bingo player he is. And how Jack shouldn’t feel bad when Frank wins, and he loses.

Jack smiles wide and tells him, “I can’t wait to learn from the best.”

Frank preens at Jack’s words, and I’m touched by how kind Jack is and how he is treating some of my favorite people.

I lean into Jack and whisper, “He never wins.”

Jack chuckles. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer. His lips press to the side of my head in a quick kiss before releasing me, but his hand doesn’t go far. It settles on my thigh under the table as the letters and numbers start being called. I love the feel of his hands on me. Even the casual touches have my skin tightening in exhilaration.

We spend the next hour playing numerous rounds of bingo. Frank becomes more frustrated as he repeatedly gets close but loses. Dorothy and I try to disguise our amusement while attempting to comfort him. This happens almost every time we play bingo.

“B3.”

We’re on our last round when Jack shifts in his seat next to me.

I lean into his side and let out a little gasp when I see his card. Lightly slapping his thigh, I raise my hand to point out that he has the letter-number combo called to give him a bingo. He turns in his seat and widens his eyes at me, his head shaking almost imperceptibly before cutting his eyes in Frank’s direction.

My lips part in surprise .

He’s…not winning because he doesn’t want to make Frank feel bad?

I close my eyes for a moment, emotional at the tender gesture.

His deep chuckle lingers around us. As his large hand squeezes my thigh tight, he says in a low voice, so only I hear him, “You’re adorable.”

Once I recover, I give him a watery, appreciative smile. He returns it with an equally warm one.

After a few more numbers are called, someone yells Bingo from the other side of the room.

Frank lets out a frustrated noise as he tosses his dabber down. “Well, Jack, it looks like no beginner’s luck for you tonight.” He gives him a stern look. “I won last week, so I hope you’re not a bad luck charm for me.”

Jack wraps his arm around my chair as he sits back. “I sure hope I’m not too, Frank.”

We stay to help clean up, and I spend most of that time watching Jack flirt with the women, who giggle like schoolgirls and shake the hands of the men. Every interaction weaves even deeper into my heart.

When we return to his vehicle and are heading back to my condo, I want to express my gratitude for today, not just for the past couple of hours, but all of it, really. I open my mouth to attempt to put into words how much it all means to me, when a ringing sounds through the speakers. I glance down at the screen.

Carlos Martinez

Before Jack answers, he says, “This is the detective I told you about. He’s also a friend of mine.”

I nod as he pushes the screen to answer the call. “Carlos, you’re on speakerphone in my car. Gisella is here with me.”

“Got it. Hi, Gisella.” The deep voice addresses me .

“You can call me Ella. But hi.”

“Okay, will do. I had some time free up earlier than I thought and wanted to see if you were available for me to come by now.”

Jack glances at me, and I give him a tense nod. I’m not looking forward to this conversation, but I’m still hopeful it will help. “Yeah, we’ll be back at her place in about ten minutes.”

“Great, see you then.” Carlos disconnects.

My stomach is in knots, making me miss the butterflies from earlier.

Jack reaches over and captures my hand, intertwining our fingers. “Everything will be okay. We’ll find out who this is. I promise you.”

I try my best to give him a confident smile, but I know it’s lacking. He doesn’t push me, though. He squeezes my hand lightly and rests our clasped hands on my thigh, his silent strength permeating me through the contact.

“Ella, thank you for providing all of this information.” Carlos gives me a sympathetic smile. “I know this is scary. But you have some of the best in the business looking out for you. And I’ll do everything I can to find out who’s doing this.”

Jack sits next to me on the couch, our thighs touching. Carlos is seated in the accent chair across from us, taking notes and looking through my phone. I spent the last hour retelling what happened in excruciating detail. Carlos stopped me every few sentences with clarifying questions, quickly jotting down my answers.

Carlos hands me my phone and heaves himself out of the small chair, tucking the box of notes I kept all these months under his arms. “Let me know immediately if you get any more texts or if anything else happens.”

Jack stands up and places his hand on my shoulder. “Stay here, I’ll talk him out.”

I nod up at him, and then look back at Carlos. “I appreciate you coming to talk to me.”

Carlos gives me one final smile before heading to my door, Jack following him into the hallway. I collapse against the back of the couch and rub my forehead. I feel drained. Like I walked ten miles. My head hurts, and my shoulder muscles are tense. All I want to do is curl up on my couch or in my bed and sleep for as long as possible.

As my eyes drift close, my body relaxes until my door closes again and Jack’s footsteps get louder. I blink my eyes open to find him standing next to the couch, watching me, concern lining his rugged face.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly as he sits on the opposite side of the couch.

“Exhausted.”

He nods, his eyes not leaving me. “Do you want me to stay the night with you? I can sleep on the couch. Or the floor.”

My stomach flips at his question. The irrational side of me would love nothing more than him to stay the night. But the sane part feels jittery at the thought.

As disappointed as it makes me, I say, “You don’t have to stay. I think I’m going to go to bed early.”

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees and hands clasped. Before he speaks, he clears his throat. “Okay. I have to work an event tomorrow because we didn’t have enough people to cover it.” He turns his head my way. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone if your building weren’t at least partially secure, but I need you to promise me that you won’t leave the building without me or one of my guys. If you need to go anywhere tomorrow, you’ll call or text me and wait for me to get someone over here.” Waiting for my agreeance, he raises his eyebrows.

“I won’t leave. I don’t have anything going on tomorrow anyway.”

He nods. “I’ll try to come over tomorrow after the event.”

Despite telling him that he didn’t have to spend the night, I feel an instant wave of sadness at the thought of possibly not seeing Jack tomorrow. Not wanting to admit my feelings, I force a smile. “Sounds good.”

He pushes to stand. I do the same and trail him to the door. Leaning over, he picks up a metal bar with rubber ends. One side looks like a u, and the other side has a flat bottom.

“Do you know what this is?”

I shake my head.

“It’s a security bar for under your door.” He shows me how to place the U-shaped piece of rubber under the doorknob, and the flat rubber slides across the floor until the bar is secure. “With you being on the fourth floor and people having to be buzzed in, your building, while not foolproof, is more secure than others. But as an extra precaution for when you’re home alone, it makes opening your door much more difficult.”

“This is great. Gives me some peace of mind.”

He nods. “Good. Don’t forget to put it into place whenever you’re alone. Understood?”

“Yes.” His bossy protectiveness is getting to me. Now I want him to stay, but for an entirely different reason than keeping me safe.

He sets the bar aside, then turns toward the door until his hand freezes on the knob, pivoting back to face me, his eyes searching mine. My core heats at his concentrated assessment. Wondering if he will kiss me again, my heartbeat picks up pace. When my eyes drop to his lips, I remember the tickle of his beard on my face. My mind tortures me, thinking of the tickle of his beard in other places on my body.

His hand raises, and I hold my breath. He’s smiling as he runs his thumb down the side of my cheek. Tingles burst across my skin.

“Goodnight, Gisella.”

All I can do is croak out, “Night.”

And with that, Jack is gone. His cologne lingers in the air around me.

I place my hands on my stomach and blow out a frustrated breath through pursed lips, trying to quell the arousal filling my system. With nothing else to do, I get ready for bed and do my best to force myself to sleep.