Page 21 of Savior
Remembering why I got out of bed at such a god-awful hour, I draw myself up and set my features into what I hope is a careful balance between friendly concern and firm admonishment. I would offer my hand, but I am afraid I might not get it back, so I just wrap both of them around my waist.
“Need something?” he asks before I can say anything.
“I . . . uh, yes, actually.” I point over my shoulder to my house. “I was wondering if you could keep it down.” I make a pained face. “It’s just that it’s a little late, and I’m trying to sleep.”
He glances over my shoulder at the house and then back at me, his eyes pinning me to the ground. Without saying anything, he reaches back and removes the keys from the ignition. The resulting quiet is nearly deafening.
“Thanks,” I say. By sheer force of will, I manage to unglue my feet from the ground to turn and walk back to the house. Relief blankets me. Still feeling chilled, I rub at my arms and resolve to get back and bed and never leave.
But his voice stops me before I can make a full retreat. “That’s it?” he asks.
I really should ignore him and get back to the warm comfort of my bed. New me should, anyway, but apparently, there’s enough old me left somewhere deep inside, because I find myself swiveling around to face him. “What’s that?”
He ambles closer, his eyes intent upon me. I’m going to have to start wearing full body armor when we’re in the same vicinity, which could be a lot considering we live less than twenty feet from one another. It’s either the armor, or living with the daily feeling of his eyes caressing my bare skin. He looks at me like a man who looks at a woman in preparation to devour her.
I take an automatic step back. I’m too damn tired to be devoured. “Well?” I ask a bit more testily than I mean to, but dammit, it’s two a.m., and I’m exhausted. It’s his own fault.
He follows after me automatically. “I said, is that it?”
“What else would there be?” I ask as my feet make it to the bottom step on my porch.
His lips twitch in what could be a smile. “Introductions,” he says. “Since you’re new to the area and all. I’m Logan. Logan Blackwell.”
“I think your motorcycle was doing that well enough, Logan,” I say without thinking.
I switch my weight from my right leg to my left and run a hand through my hair. The action causes my robe to slip down the side of my arm, baring my shoulder. Before I can fix it myself, his hand lifts and catches the material and drags it the long, slow journey back up my arm.
Our eyes catch as he reaches the top where his hand pauses on my shoulder. I take another step back and cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the tingling from his touch. “Good night,” I say, mostly out of habit, and then reach for the screen door.
When it doesn’t budge, I look up to find his hand above me and frown. I blow out a breath and shoot him a look. “You mind?”
“When someone introduces themselves, the polite thing to do is to give them your name in return,” he says.
“I don’t think you have any room to talk about manners. After all, you were the one trying to wake up the entire state at two in the morning.” I tug on the door, but it doesn’t budge since he’s still holding it shut.
“I didn’t say I polite,” he responds, and I realize that with his arm up blocking the door he has me penned against it and his big, towering form.
“Apparently not,” I snap, trying desperately not to sink into the debilitating fear that rolling just under the surface. This guy is not going to hurt me. “Look, it’s late and I haven’t had much sleep tonight. Can we not do this now?”
“Do what?”
I turn to face him and wave a finger between us. “This. Us. Whatever seduction routine you’ve got going on here. I’m not interested, and you’re just wasting both our time.”
His hand finally drops, and I open the door just enough to slip through before closing it soundly behind me. Unfortunately, it doesn’t give me the sense of security I’m hoping for. I have a feeling it will take more than a door to stop this man from getting what he wants.
For a minute, he just looks at me through the tightly woven black mesh, and I think he may actually press the issue. My heart doesn’t know if it’s excited or frightened at the prospect. Then he takes a step back, though his gaze doesn’t leave mine, and I release the breath I was holding.
While he’s moving backward down the steps, I lock the hook for the screen door. Though I didn’t have a reason to do it earlier, I have the sudden urge to secure everything in the house.
He reaches the bottom of the steps and then glances back up at me. “Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before disappearing into the darkness between our two houses.
I retreat to my room and wrap myself up beneath the covers. There isn’t a peep from next door all night, but I don’t sleep a wink.
* * *
I get into a good routine at the B&B once I settle in. It’s easy, familiar work. When I left the travel agency to Chloe, I thought I’d miss being the one to give orders and be in control of everything. In fact, it’s nice not to be in charge all the time.
Two weeks pass, and I start to feel like maybe I can have the normal I’ve been craving. It didn’t seem like such a big deal to me a year ago, but now, as I watch happy families and lucky in love couples come and go, I’m reminded each day of what I’m missing.