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Zeke crosses the room and takes my hands in his, his gray eyes boring into mine with so much intensity it takes my breath away.
He gently squeezes my hands. "I want you to stay with me. You don't have to worry about anything anymore, baby. I'm going to take care of you. And I want you sleeping with me in my bed, but I also don't want you to think that's all this is, so I want you to have a space all your own. I know how important that is to you."
Tears well up in my eyes. How is it this man gets me better than anyone I've ever known and I've scarcely known him a day?
"Zeke, I..." My throat tightens, and words fail me. I don't know what to say.
"This is where I want you to live...with me." His eyes are probing me with that stormy intensity that takes my breath away.
"Zeke..." I shake my head, overwhelmed. What should I do? Part of me wants to accept his offer, but that other, independent part of me tells me that I have to make my own way.
"I have to go to work," I finally croak out. "I'm late."
Zeke cups my face in his big hands. He shakes his head. "You don't have to work anymore if you don't want to, baby. Don't you get what I'm telling you? I'll take care of everything if you just let me."
I lick my lips nervously as I stare up at him, unsure.
"What do you say, Jaz?"
Zeke's eyes are pleading with me to accept, but still, I hesitate. I'm not even sure why I do. Maybe it's because everything is happening so fast, and it all seems too perfect and I'm not used to anything in my life being so perfect or effortless.
It almost makes me afraid that this is all too good to be true.
Before I get a chance to answer him, his phone rings.
Zeke frowns as he pulls it from his pocket and answers it. His face changes in an instant as I see him go into firefighter mode.
I already know that he's going to have to respond to an emergency before he hangs up the phone.
"I'm sorry, Jaz," his eyes are apologetic but determined, "but I have to go. I'm on call."
I shake my head. "No, it's okay," I assure him. "I get it."
He presses a swift kiss to my forehead before he heads for the door.
"Please be here when I get back," he calls out over his shoulder.
I don't answer him. Instead, I just wrap my arms around myself and watch him disappear, wondering why I suddenly feel so empty—as if he's taken a piece of me with him.
* * *
My first job is waiting tables at a local diner, and I have to endure the glare of the manager when I come running in the door nearly an hour late. I ply him with the story about how the apartment I lived in burned down, but he has no sympathy for me. He just barks at me to get to work and not let it happen again.
Yes, sir.
I'm just grateful he didn't fire me on the spot because I cannot afford to lose this job. Never mind that I have another job cleaning the hospital after this one. I need both to make ends meet.
That thought causes me to pause. Well, technically, I guess I don't need both jobs anymore—if what Zeke said is true. If he really wants to take care of me. If he really means it when he says he'll handle everything and I don't even have to work.
Of course, I'm not the type of girl to take handouts, and it goes against everything in me to imagine myself not working and letting someone else do everything. I want to pull my own weight.
Still, it takes a load off knowing that there's someone else there to share the burden now. I don't feel as stressed as I normally do.
But I'm not going to take advantage of Zeke's charity. I'm going to keep both of these jobs and pay my own way. Even if I do take him up on his offer to stay with him, I want to contribute something.
"Jaz," a voice that causes my blood to run cold stops me in my tracks.
I turn around to see my stepdad frowning and leering down at me all at once.
