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“Mrs. Swift, it’s Micah Fox.”
“Oh!” Her tone betrayed her smile. “Frank and I were just talking about you.”
“I wondered why my ears were ringing,” I said with a smile, glancing over at Jasmine.
Her lips twitched, her hands once more clasped in her lap.
“I know you asked Jasmine to go to Dina’s tonight, but she’s going to stay with me.” I didn’t ask, simply made a statement. “I won’t be able to rest tonight without knowing personally she slept safe and sound.”
“Oh. Well.” She sounded flustered. “I-I suppose that would be okay—if you have a guest room?”
“Of course.” That didn’t mean Jasmine would be crawling between those sheets though.
“Can I speak with her?”
I handed the phone to Jasmine and returned to clutching the wheel.
“Hey, Mom.”
I strained to make out her mom’s words but couldn’t.
“I will. Yes.Yes,Mom.” I caught Jasmine’s eye roll. “He’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman, and Dina trusts him too.” Her cheeks blushed as she cast a sideways glance my way. “I promise. Yes. Love you too, Mom.”
Mrs. Swift murmured a bit more.
“I’ll call you in the morning.” Jasmine hung up and dropped the phone into her bag between her feet.
“The whole ‘be careful’ talk?” I asked, brow raised as I glanced over at her.
She giggled, lightening my mood. “Yep.”
With the news her attacker had moved back into town, I expected the plans for exploring more physical touch that evening had been shot to shit. But I could deal. I didn’t want to get involved sexually unless her mind was one hundred percent in, no distraction, no issue to take away or hinder what the experience could be for us.
Jasmine touched my arm.
I loosened my hold on the steering wheel and wrapped my hand around hers once more.
At least she’d reached out to me for comfort. I heaved a deep breath and focused on getting us home where I could lock us in, set the alarm system, and relax the best my aching balls allowed.
Chapter16
Jasmine
“Glass of wine?” Micah asked, shutting the garage door behind me as we stepped into his kitchen.
“That would be great, thanks.”
He keyed in the code for the alarm, tossed his keys on the island, and took two wine glasses from the cabinet. “Red or white?”
“Red.” I shrugged as he glanced at me. “Gets me loopier faster than white.”
“A little escaping reality might be a good idea,” he agreed.
Heaving a huge sigh, I lounged on the couch, eyes closed, head tipped back. Billy had gotten out of jail—and stalked me regardless of the restraining order. Unfortunately, a simple slip of paper hardly ever hindered a wacko from shadowing or going after their obsession.
A sense of discomfort had assailed me the second Mom told me the news, but I didn’t experience fear like I should have. Perhaps taking back some of my confidence had strengthened me to stand up to the threat of him. Or maybe, being with Micah gave me more comfort than I’d thought possible.
“Here.”
