AllFreeNovel
Share Us
7
MATT
We stay at Al and Annie’s for a few more hours, talking and savoring Annie’s cooking. I opt for a quick escape when I notice Lenore start to nod off. Every so often, her head tips to the side, and she jerks up, her eyes droopy with exhaustion. She’s finally relaxed, and the events of the day have caught up with her.
I start to say goodbye to Annie and Al, but Lenore insists on helping Annie with the dishes. It’s another half hour before I can hustle her out the door and to my truck.
“You said up by Egg Harbor?”
She yawns widely before replying, “Yep, do you want me to put it in the GPS?”
“Sure.” I hand her my phone. It’s already plugged into the charger, so she has to lean toward me to key in her information. I subtly inhale her scent again and feel like a perv. Not only for sniffing her but because I realize that I’ll have her info saved, and it makes me breathe a little easier knowing how to find her. It’s the first time all day where she might legitimately accuse me of being a stalker or kidnapper, but she’s exhausted and misses the opportunity.
She leans back in her seat and buckles up. It seems like an automatic habit, which makes me glad. With her track record of car trouble, extra safety can’t be a bad thing.
“Thank you for sharing your friends with me.” She watches their house grow smaller in the passenger mirror as we pull away.
“I’m pretty sure they’d say they’re your friends now too.”
“I’m not used to such welcoming people.”
The silence stretches between us, and I don’t know how to respond. I’m not even sure if she wants me to. What I want to do is reach over and hold her hand, but she’s withdrawing again, curling into herself and turning toward the window. It frustrates me because I want her to open up and tell me all the things that are bothering her.
“Sorry, that was an awkward thing to say to someone I’ve just met. Well, I’m just awkward in general, but I’m sure you figured that out this morning.” She’s still focused on the scenery passing by, and her voice is muffled against the window. I hate that I can’t see her face.
“It’s not a problem.” The urge to find my way back to some sort of physical contact is riding me hard, but I resist. “And you’re not awkward.”
She snorts derisively and adjusts herself in the seat so she can lean her head against the window and tuck her toes up against the dashboard. I smile, noting her mismatched socks. I hadn’t even realized she’d slipped off her shoes.
“I am the queen of awkward. I embrace it.”
“Alright, I bow down to your judgment then.” I can’t help the warm pleasure that flows through me at our easy banter and the fact that she’s slowly letting me closer. We reach Highway 42, and I turn left, going north. I sit in awkward silence for a solid ten minutes, not sure if I’ve overstepped and offended her before I realize she’s fallen asleep.
Her head rests with her cheek against the cool window, and I can’t imagine it’s comfortable. I make a point to avoid any potholes so she doesn’t bump against the glass. Even in sleep, she’s pulled her knees up against herself, hugging them tightly and walling herself off.
I’m no good in these types of situations. Steve has always been the ladies' man, and I’ve preferred to play things casual and as they come. As terrible as it sounds, I’ve never had to think about building a connection with someone beyond the immediate future, and I’d been perfectly happy with that arrangement until about eight o’clock this morning.
Watching Annie and Al talk to Lenore and seeing how open and comfortable she let herself be with them only cemented the urge to ask her out on a real date and get to know her more as a person. The fact that I’ve gone and hired her complicates the situation even more.
I take a moment to study her. To someone driving by, it’d look like I didn’t even have a passenger; she’s so small when she folds herself up. Lenore is short and fine-boned, but she looks waif-like with her legs tucked up against her on the seat and her hair loose. Fragile.
Even without today’s emergencies clouding my emotions, there’s something about her I want to keep close. From the little things she’s let slip today, I know she’s a strong, independent woman, but she’s also vulnerable and, at times, too trusting for her own good.
And she’s stunningly pretty.
The headlights from oncoming traffic illuminate the myriad of shades of black and brown in her hair.
I silence the truck’s audio system and keep an eye on the phone’s map so the noise doesn’t wake her. Most of the drive goes smoothly, with only the Egg Harbor traffic slowing us down. Even at ten-thirty at night, the tourists are out and about.
I follow the map out past town and turn right at the trolley station, taking a side road to the wooded areas that dominate the spaces between our little towns here on the peninsula.
The colors on the screen change as I get closer to the driveway, green to yellow to red, warning me I’m getting closer to the turnoff. It's small, hidden by stands of trees, and snakes back into the woods for a half mile before opening onto a manicured lawn leading up to a modest cabin-style home.
I pull the truck as close to the front door as possible and shut it off before climbing down and circling to the passenger side.
My door closing must have woken her from her dozing because she’s groggy, but her eyes are open when I get to her side.
“Sorry about that. Usually, I don’t just pass out on people.”
