Page 29 of How You See Me (You and Me Duology #2)

I demonstrate a side-eye and a broody frown.

“Those are my concentration faces.”

“Sure they are.” I stab a carrot slice from my salad. “So, what were you concentrating on? Not losing your temper with me?”

“Not exactly.”

“What, then?”

“I was trying not to find you so damn attractive.”

My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. I lower it slowly, my appetite forgotten.

“Even on the day you picked me up? I was really annoying that day.”

“You were you, Josie. No filters. No holding back. I liked that more than I wanted to.”

Emotion crowds my chest, leaving little room to breathe.

“Even though I poke just to get a rise out of you . . .” She pauses like she’s unsure she should continue. “I’m fascinated by you and can’t help but wonder where your broody side comes from.”

Tension carves deep lines into his face. I recognize that withdrawal, the instinct to hide the parts of himself he thinks are unwanted.

“Maybe one day it won’t be my entire personality. "

“You know how some people are more outward with their thoughts and emotions?” I point at myself. “Others keep them tucked close. Neither way is right or wrong. You deserve to be happy, Hayes. However you choose to show it.”

With a deep breath, he glances out the window and over the restaurant before coming back to me. “I lost that formula somewhere along the way. My version of happy has been MIA lately, along with the passion I once had for my job.”

“And that hurts?”

His shoulders relax, a visible relief that he doesn’t have to spell it out. “Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. Being a Marine is all I’ve ever wanted. Without it, I don’t know who I am.”

“You’re still a Marine. The years and sacrifices still matter, even if you find another purpose.”

“I guess. I just don’t know which direction to go.”

“You will. I have faith in you.”

We get back to eating after that. The weight of his pain hangs in the air, both heavy and somehow comforting. He’s human and vulnerable, like the rest of us.

While he visits the restroom, I pay the bill and doodle a little Marine in a cowboy hat on the receipt.

“That’s against code, you know?” He smiles down at me, then carefully tucks the flimsy paper in his wallet.

“Of course, I do, but it was fun imagining those two sides of you colliding. ”

“There’s no country in me,” he grumbles, lifting his hat off the back of the chair and setting it on his head, a stark contrast to that declaration.

Great Smoky Mountain. Did the heat just kick on in here? Yeah. He pulls off country and makes it masculine and fresh-out-of-the-oven, steamin’ hot.

“Keep telling yourself that, Cowboy.” I wink. “You look too good in that thing to be convincing.”

His eyes roll before he extends a hand toward me. “Let’s go.”

For a beat, I just stare at his open palm. The overhead lights spotlight not only the simple gesture but his steady presence.

I soak in this tiny miracle—him reaching for me first—without blinking, not wanting to miss a second. I take his hand, and he leads me out of my chair. But he doesn’t let go. Not as we leave the table. Not as we reach the door. Not even when the sunlight spills over us outside.

Maybe something opened inside him last night and this is the next piece of himself he’s willing to offer. Maybe he’s finally loosening the ropes that bind him, preventing him from taking a full breath of life.

Even if it’s a tiny sliver, I’ll take every inch he gives and relish it like it’s the most precious thing I’ve been given.

Because it is.

◆◆◆

Jordan: Where are you now ?

Me: In the van, heading toward Oklahoma City. We went antique shopping!!!!

Jordan: Wow! Is Hayes still Hayes?

Me: What’s that supposed to mean? Are you insinuating that I might have already driven him crazy?

Jordan: It’s scary how well you read my thoughts.

Me: He’s smiled at least three times today. In my book, that’s the opposite of falling off the deep end.

Jordan: What did you do? Drug him?

Me: I’m not answering that.

Jordan: I’m glad it’s going well.

Me: Better answer.

Jordan: Have an ETA for reaching Las Vegas?

I ask Hayes, and he does some quick calculating.

Me: We’ll probably arrive by Friday if there are no more surprises.

Only four days until my time with Hayes comes to an end. I’m not ready.

Jordan: MORE surprises? Has something happened ?

I fight the urge to tell him about Hayes and me. That conversation needs to happen over the phone—not text—since we can’t do it in person. Either way, I’m not ready for that life pivot either.

Me: Nothing serious. Just a flat tire. Got it fixed the next day.

Jordan: Did you stay in the van on the side of the road?

Me: We made it to a B&B on the spare. Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.

Jordan: Glad Hayes was there, and you’re not by yourself.

Me too. If Jordan hadn’t set this up, we might never have connected.

Hayes points through the windshield, interrupting my thoughts, but my eyes stay on him. Whatever he’s pointing at, I’m all in if it will keep that easy smile on his handsome face. It makes me all gooey inside.

“One sec.” I wave my phone. “Almost done.”

Me: Stop worrying. I’m in good hands.

Whoops. Probably shouldn’t have said it like that. With Hayes’ rare smile and the resulting gooeyness going on inside me, I typed before I used my puddle brain. Heat travels up my neck and settles in my cheeks at the memory of Hayes’ hands on my skin.

At least Jordan doesn’t react.

Jordan: Can’t help it.

Me: I’m the one who’s supposed to do all the worrying, remember?

Jordan: You ARE the best at it. Love you.