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“I didn’t realize this was the kind of man you wanted in your life, Jess. It’s so disappointing. You deserve better,” Troy says, giving Allen and me both a look of thinly disguised hate. He turns to walk away and I find myself screaming.
“My name is Jess-ie!”
Troy looks over his shoulder and this time the hate is crystal clear—so much so that it turns my stomach. He doesn’t reply, though, just turns away and keeps walking.
I watch him for a few minutes while I try to suck in my emotions. Allen turns to me, his broad chest filling my vison as his hand circles against the side of my neck. I feel his touch and my pulse leaps, but I don’t move. My eyes concentrate on the faded black color of the jacket he’s wearing. He applies pressure and his thumb moves under my chin as he tilts my head so I’m forced to look at him.
His face is closed off. I can’t tell what he’s thinking for the life of me.
“Hi,” I whisper when it seems the silence has gone on too long.
I get an immediate reward when Allen’s face goes from closed off to a smile…
A really beautiful smile.
6
Allen
“I knew the moment I saw you that you were going to be trouble,” I mumble to myself.
“What?” she asks, her eyes round with surprise.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you shouldn’t be traveling so late at night alone?”
“I wasn’t traveling, Allen. I was closing my shop,” she argues, annoyance bleeding through her voice.
“You’re cute when you’re pissed off, Mouse.”
“Again with that nickname.”
“You really have something against it?”
“Women would rather be called sexy, babe, beautiful, heck, even sugar.”
“Sugar?” I ask, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice.
“That would be preferable to being called a rodent.”
“Some people love mice so much they keep them as pets.”
“And some feed them to snakes for dinner,” she huffs and that’s the moment I lose it.
I laugh, even when I try not to. Jessie couldn’t understand what a gift that is. She has no idea and I can see—even while laughing—that she doesn’t like it. She’s offended by it. She doesn’t understand the miracle she’s given me.
“Would you really prefer I call you sugar?”
Her nose scrunches up and that looks so cute I need to resist the urge to kiss her.
“Is that my only other option?” she grumbles and again… I laugh.
“Trouble,” I answer her, shaking my head.
“What?”
“You are major trouble, Jessie.”
“That’s not nice,” she says.
“It’s still very true. Where are you parked?”
“At my house,” she answers.
“Excuse me?”
“I live a few streets down, so I just walk to my shop.”
“You walk…”
“Yeah.”
“You walk to work, alone.”
“I believe that’s what I said.”
“What happens if you’re attacked? If some whack-job jumps out of the shadows and grabs you?”
“This is Saint Augustine, Allen. That’s not likely to happen.”
“It’s a highly populated vacation area. It’s more likely to happen here than anywhere,” I growl, not believing that she could be so naïve.
“I’ve lived here my whole life and it hasn’t happened yet.” She says this while walking down the street. I take the few steps to catch up with her, grab her upper arm and pull her back around to face me.
“You’re not walking home, Jessie.”
“Yes, I am. I’ve had a long day and thanks to that idiot Troy and now you, a stressful one. I’m going home, I’m going to take a shower so hot my skin will melt, then I’m going to cuddle on my couch with Chloe.”
“Chloe?” I ask, wondering if I misread the signs and she’s into women, or maybe both. I’m not sure how I feel about that. If I give a woman my cock, I don’t want to worry about if she’d rather have pussy.
“My cat,” she mumbles, yanking her arm out of my hold and starting to walk away again.
I find myself falling into step beside her. I’m grinning, thinking at least if she’s cuddling up on the couch with a pussy, this is one I can compete with.
“Tell me about Troy.”
“Why are you smiling like that?” she asks, and it’s only then I realize the grin is still on my face.
“I was realizing that if you’re in love with pussy at least it’s one I can compete with.”
“I don’t understand…” she says, her face confused, wrinkles on her forehead as she replays my words in her head. I’ve never been around a woman so easy to read, but with Jessie, I know exactly what’s going on with one look. That’s confirmed when she blushes and comprehension dawns on her—shining like a flashlight in the black of night.
“Oh,” she gasps and I’m pretty sure she couldn’t say anything else, because she opens her mouth, then closes it. Opens it again and snaps it shut yet again. The look on her face makes me… laugh. “You weren’t this annoying the first time we met,” she huffs.
“What was I?”
“I wouldn’t go all cocky. I doubt you could compete with Chloe. She’s special,” Jessie answers, completely ignoring my question.
“I’ll make a note,” I tell her.
We walk for a bit without talking. It’s not an awkward silence. It’s actually kind of enjoyable, but I smile when I hear her voice again. It has a tone that makes me feel… alive.
“Why are you here?” she asks and that’s when the laughter stops. I push my fingers through my hair, stop walking and she seems to catch the change in my mood and stops too. She stands there looking up at me and that venom inside of me that stays deep inside—hidden—begins swirling. I beat it down, but in the face of Jessie’s innocence, it’s harder. I should stay away from her. I’ve tried for three days, but she’s been there… on my mind… teasing me… tempting me. I should walk away. I need to. Jessie doesn’t need someone like me in her life. I’m not fit to touch her. I don’t know a fuck of a lot, but I know she deserves better than an ex-junkie. I’m clean. I’ve been clean for years, but that doesn’t erase my past…or what drove me to use the drugs.
“Allen?” she asks softly, her voice changing. That’s when I realize I am staring at her, but not really seeing her.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I tell her honestly.
“But you are,” she whispers.
“I shouldn’t be,” I repeat again.
Jessie reaches up and the tips of her fingers drag through my beard. The touch is gentle, but it’s the look in her eyes that I actually feel. It’s almost physical and it seeps into the darkest parts of me, calming the darkness like nothing else has.
“Come upstairs and have coffee with me. We’ll talk,” she says. I look beyond her to the building in front of us and the purple painted door on the side. I want to say no.
I don’t.
“Okay,” I tell her, knowing better, but unable to stop myself.
7
Jessie
“You shouldn’t invite strangers into your home,” Allen murmurs as we make it to the top of the stairs and I unlock the door to my apartment.
“I didn’t. I invited you,” I answer with a shrug, opening the door and walking in. I stand there holding the door open as Allen looks in, clearly unsure about coming inside.
“You don’t know me. I could be a rapist or a murderer.”
“Fair enough. Have you murdered anyone?”
“No one that didn’t deserve it,” he answers and his face looks extremely solemn.
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting and I can tell it hits a nerve for him—maybe even reminding him of something he doesn’t like. I should be scared. His answer should terrify me, but for some reason it doesn’t.
“Come inside, Allen,” I tell him, leaning
on the door. He looks at me intently. For a minute I think he’s going to turn me down and leave. I’m preparing for it, but he crosses the threshold, surprising me.
I close the door as he passes me and I lean against it as I try and get my thoughts in order.
“You have a nice place, Jessie.”
I turn to look at him. He’s so incredibly tall and broad that he fills my small living room. He also looks completely out of place in a room with pale green walls and pink flowery accents and white furniture. I almost want to giggle, but Allen is still lost in his thoughts, I can tell, and he looks unhappy and I don’t like that.
“It’s small and honestly the furniture was here when I moved in, but it’s comfortable,” I explain while I walk into the adjoining kitchen.
