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I land back on the couch and the moment my head hits the pillow, she’s all around me again. Not sure I will get back to my beach again tonight, but I’m here with her in the same house and that is still a great place to be. We may not be holding hands yet, but I’ll get her back on that beach, if it’s the last thing I do.
18
Emily
5:45 a.m. comes faster than I would have liked.
After lying in bed thinking about Jonathan out on the couch, Ireland’s wet bed and then trying to fall back to sleep after Jonathan’s words in the hallway, there wasn’t much sleep to be had. I turn my alarm off, stick my feet into my slippers, and throw on my robe. I point myself in the direction of the shower that will hopefully wake me the hell up!
The moment I open my bedroom door I can smell the freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen.
I shuffle down the hall towards the kitchen to find a sight that I could get used to waking up to. Before me is a barefoot, Jonathan, still in his sleep shorts and t-shirt from the night before with slightly messed hair, a sexy as hell five o’clock shadow and a cup of coffee in his hand that he’s holding out to me.
“Morning, Sunshine. Coffee?”
“Why are you up so early? Are you one of those crazy morning people?” I ask as I greedily take the cup from his hands and bring it to my lips. So good.
“Nope, I’m a night-shifter remember?”
“Then why in the world are you up with coffee and a smile? You seem like one of those crazy, happy the moment I get up morning people.”
“You said you were getting up at 5:45 so I made sure I was up before you to get the coffee going.”
“Some vacation this is for you.”
“I don’t mind at all. Besides I want to drive you in this morning.”
“What do you mean?”
Does he think I need a chauffeur now too?
“Well, I figured I would go with you to drop off Ireland at the school so you could introduce me, and they could add me to the list of people who can pick her up. That way if you have things you need to do and need her to be picked up, I can help.”
My mouth hangs open in shock.
“Now, what do you normally eat for breakfast? I know you didn’t really do breakfast in the past but that could have changed. What’ll it be? I can get it going while you jump in the shower.” He says this almost as if he’s excited at the prospect of making me breakfast.
“Jonathan, you don’t have to become my manny. It’s very kind of you, but you don’t have to do all of this. You don’t have to make coffee, cook, do pre-school pick up…” as I am speaking I see the folded sheets on the table from last night’s wake up call. “…And apparently do laundry too. You’re making me feel horrible.”
“I don’t want you to feel horrible. Especially when it’s making me feel so good to be able to help you and take a tiny bit off your plate. I’ll feel useless if you don’t let me help, and if I feel useless I’ll get bored and when I get bored, I get annoying. More annoying than usual. I guess it’s your choice, but I’m not going anywhere. And I am driving you to work and Ireland to school. So, I think you might as well let me help.”
I’m still too hung up on his first sentence to laugh at his cute little joke about being annoying. Of course, I heard him, but the first part is what stuck.
I have to know so I ask, “It makes you feel good to help us out? Why?”
“Emily, I don’t think you’re ready to hear all the reasons why. The last thing I want is to scare you away.” He tucks a stray hair behind my ear with sincerity and fear in his eyes that I am not used to seeing. “I don’t want you to walk away again.”
Finally, being honest myself, I set my coffee cup down, stretch up on my toes, put my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder nuzzling into the soft skin under his five o’clock shadow. As his arms come around me we just hold each other in silence before I whisper into his neck.
“Thank you for the last couple of days, and thank you for wanting to give us another chance. Just so you know…I don’t want to walk away again either, Georgia.”
I can feel the tension fall from his body. “Thank Christ,” he says lightly before kissing me on the top of my head.
Stepping away from our warm comfortable hug—that I could have stayed wrapped in all day—he hands me my coffee, spins me around, pats me on the ass and says, “Go get ready for work, baby.”
I let out a little squeal and head to the bathroom as ordered.
On my way, I can’t help but think about how much I love to hear him call me baby. I can remember the first time he did that in California. It still sends tingles through my body and gets me a little hot and bothered.
