Page 34 of Into These Eyes

Gavin

C limbing from an Uber after yet another failed job interview, wind whips at my hair and thunder rumbles in the distance as I hurry to my caravan. When I let myself inside, the humidity’s so thick it’s an effort to draw a breath.

The moment I collapse on the bed, my phone rings.

Jamie.

Instantly forgetting about my zero employment prospects, I grin. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Did I hear a tremor in that single syllable? Unsure, and when she doesn’t offer anything further, I say, “Okay … so I could say hey again, but that might make you say hi again and then I think we might get stuck in some weird sort of loop that has no—”

“I’m here. In the carpark,” she interrupts. Unfortunately, there’s no mistaking the lack of amusement in her tone.

“Be right there.” As head to the parking lot, I try to blame the oppressive humidity for my sudden lack of energy. But who am I kidding? She has bad news. It was right there in her voice.

When I reach her car, she glances up at me through the tinted window. Even though thick storm clouds darken the sky, she’s hiding behind sunglasses. When she climbs out, I notice her work clothes and the severe ponytail. It’s almost 8pm but it appears she’s come straight from work.

“Can we talk?” she asks, as if I might tell her no .

“I’m all yours. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

Though they need no adjusting, she pushes her sunnies higher on her nose. She’s flustered. But there’s something else there, too. Something I can’t pinpoint.

“I might have to hold you to that,” she says quietly.

My heart beats a little faster. What does that mean?

“Well, let’s get you out of this sweltering heat and into the sauna.”

She gives me a tight little smile, though none of the tension emanating from her eases. “Sounds inviting.”

Intrigued, I motion toward the path leading to my caravan, step up beside her and place a hand on her back.

I really have no need to touch her. Unlike when Fletcher had been mouthing off and I needed to show him she was protected.

This time, I expect her to move out of my reach, but she doesn’t.

And that’s goddamn dangerous. Hope is a treacherous beast.

We reach the hot-box without Fletcher or anyone else throwing insults at her, and I usher her inside.

Right away, she toes off her heels, tosses her handbag on the small bench seat and slides in after it before she removes her sunnies.

I want to smile at how at how she’s made herself at home, seeing it as a clear indication that she’s comfortable with me, but as soon as I catch her eye, I deflate. Sliding into the seat opposite, I forget to make an effort not to brush my knees against hers.

“Something’s wrong,” I state.

“Not really. Maybe. I’m not sure,” she rushes out in one breath.

“Right. Well, let’s see if we can figure it out.”

“How do you like it here?”

The question’s so unexpected, I wonder if it’s a tactic to delay what she’s really here to tell me.

“As in, here in this tin-can?”

She nods, glancing around. Though she shows no distaste, it’s obviously not the nicest place on earth.

“It’s wonderful,” I say. “The sauna’s free; I can pretty much reach everything without having to take more than a step or two; there’s a free reality show provided by the other guests on a regular basis; strict rules, so you never have to wonder where you stand; the air-conditioning doubles as a white noise machine—well, that’s not true, white noise is its only function—and, of course, let’s not forget the cosiest bed ever known to mankind. ”

“That’s what I thought,” she says, the faintest smile forming on her lips.

“Why do you ask such an intriguing question?”

She grips the edge of the table in front of her and takes a deep breath. “I have an idea.”

Whatever’s going on, she’s nervous. “Okay, let's hear it.”

“There’s … there’s a place that has plenty of room.

A place that has a swimming pool, and a bedroom with an amazing mattress.

A place that doesn’t feel like an oven, but does actually have one in the kitchen.

There’s ducted air-conditioning—which I’m afraid to say, doesn’t act as white noise.

There’s also a large TV and a proper dining table and— “

“Jamie,” I interrupt, my heart thudding, unable to believe what she’s offering. Because I’m either dreaming or completely misinterpreting her. “Be direct.”

“It just makes sense,” she continues, as if she hasn’t heard me.

“We’re going to have to spend time together to get everything done for your case.

And with my workload, I’ll only have time for that after work.

And, like you pointed out, there’s the time it takes to drive here, then drive home.

And this isn’t the best working environment.

It’s so hot, I can barely breathe, let alone think.

We need more room … and I’ve got a whole house that’s empty.

It just seems crazy not to …” she trails off when her eyes finally meet mine.

I’m not sure what she sees, because apart from being stunned, the stifling air seems to be caught in my throat.

I agree with everything she’s said. Although she’s right about my inconvenient location, and as much as I want to take her up on her generous offer, I can’t fool myself into accepting.

She’s tried to present it as if it’s for her benefit, but I think she just feels sorry for me.

And I don’t want anyone seeing me as a charity case or taking pity on me. Especially her.

“If you’re suggesting what I think you are, it’s not a good idea.”

“I disagree,” she says firmly. “My father was responsible for you going to prison, for you living here right now. He owes you. And since he’s gone, I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing, Jamie. Helping clear my name is more than enough. Above and beyond, actually.” If there’s even the slimmest chance she might see me as more than the guy her father fucked over, I have to prove I deserve her, that I hold something within me she needs.

Having her believe she’s indebted to me makes me feel about as useful as a mozzie.

If I accept her offer, that’s what I’ll be.

Nothing but an annoying insect bleeding her dry. And that’s only one reason.

She shakes her head emphatically. “This place … it’s just another prison. If my father hadn’t done what he did to you, you’d have a career, your own house. Until we get your conviction overturned, a real home is the least I can give you. Please let me.”

The thought of living under the same roof has my body reacting in all sorts of ways that try to weaken my resolve. “I don’t think—”

“It’s no different from taking in a boarder. At least you’re not a stranger. It’s a logical solution, Gavin. To say no is illogical.”

“Not everything has to make sense.” What I really want to say is please don’t push this, because I’m so close to caving, it’s pathetic .

“Explain that to me.”

“For one, don’t we have to keep this professional?” I point out, hoping that’ll make her come to her senses.

“Nothing will change. Except we’ll have more time to work on your affidavit, and you’ll get to live in an environment you deserve. You don’t belong here, Gavin.”

“I don’t feel like I do either. But you’re wrong about it not changing things,” I argue, realising she’s not about to drop this.

“Why? I can’t see—“

“What about your boyfriend or … whatever?” I interrupt.

She frowns in confusion. “There is no boyfriend.”

“Okay, but there’s a high probability that might become an issue at any given moment.”

She scoffs, like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. “There’s no danger of that. Whatsoever.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I tell her honestly. “You were on a date when you called me the other—”

“No,” she interrupts. “I was having dinner with Pete. He’s sixty-five and about to retire. He’s my good friend, a mentor. So, unless some amazing guy comes knocking on my door, it’s not an issue. Next reason?”

I could be that guy. The guy who knocks on her door. Shaking my head, I dismiss the notion almost immediately. She said amazing guy . That, I’m definitely not.

But to live with her? Just being in her presence is too tempting. Well, even then, I haven’t managed to keep my hands off her. I don’t think I’d survive the torment of being under the same roof. The need to touch her, kiss her, ravish her would be impossible to resist.

Fuck. How the hell can I convince her without telling her that.

So, I move on to reason number three.

“Jamie, you know how long I’ve been locked up.

And how long Benny’s been inside. He needs me right now.

I’m not sure if you can imagine living with someone that long, locked in the same cell for twenty hours a day.

Then suddenly you’re alone. It’s like you’ve been ripped in half.

Without that other person, there’s a gaping hole that takes a little while to get used to, then a little while longer to fill in.

I can’t leave him here alone. He’s not ready. ”

She stares at me, taking in everything I’ve said. The compassion in her eyes squeezes my heart so hard I want to take every word back and just tell her yes .

She opens her mouth, then closes it, trying to come up with a rebuttal, I think, but she won’t find one.

“Okay,” she finally says, nodding. “Of course. I … I hadn’t thought of that.”

“This won’t affect us working together?”

“Gavin, I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. I made you a promise, and that means something to me.”

“It means everything to me.”

I see something in her expression I can’t quite decipher. And I don’t like the fact that I can’t figure it out.

I know I shouldn’t, but that look in her eyes has me reaching out and placing my hand over hers.