by Kendall Duke
“No, I… I should get out and go check on my friend.”
“The blonde?” I wondered whether to tell her the truth, then decided she would find out soon enough, if they were really friends. Odd pair, in my mind. “She got weird when she saw the police—they always come with a fire this big, it’s part of the investigation. I think she was on something. So they took her downtown.”
“They arrested her?” The beautiful girl turned towards me, mounting horror on her face.
“I don’t think so,” I said honestly. “I think they took her to the detox unit.” I didn’t want to say the psych ward, but that was where the detoxification unit was located. She’d started saying some pretty crazy stuff, but I didn’t want to give this lovely thing the details, not when she looked so upset. “She’s fine, I promise. She was having a hard time, and she’ll get good, hot food and a clean place to sleep until she’s better. We can call her tomorrow.”
I don’t know why I said that last bit. It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. The girl’s expression became fearful, and I bit my tongue before I said the next thing I was thinking out loud: because you’re staying at my place, right? Why? Why would she stay at the house of some random guy?
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tonight I’m sure they’ll be busy doing her intake.” Probably not too busy, though, because if I recognized the signs correctly I was pretty sure she’d been there before, more than once, and they would have her on file. But she’d definitely get a good meal and a safe place to rest, and anyone who’d been through what she’d been through needed that.
Including this ridiculously lovely girl, the one in front of me that made me say the dumbest shit.
I swallowed, making myself slow down before I kept talking and scared the crap out of her again. “So… Where would you like me to take you?” A girl this gorgeous had a boy-friend. She hadn’t been able to call him because her phone was in the fire, that was all. I needed to get myself under control.
“I…” The pause grew long. Really long.
So long I found myself saying some more dumb shit. “Do you have somewhere to go?” I managed to say it quietly, gently, at least, because when she hadn’t answered me before I found it suddenly possible that the most beautiful girl in the world really didn’t have anyone waiting for her. It made no sense to me, but then again my brain wasn’t making a lot of sense out of a lot of things from the moment I saw her face.
“No,” she finally said, the fear returning, her eyes widening until she suddenly clamped them shut. “No, I don’t.”
“Well, you’re lucky then,” I said, barreling ahead. I kept myself from starting the car a third time; she’d probably feel like I was kid-napping her. She was incredibly skittish, and who could blame her? “I have an amazing place—big old house, nobody there but me, and I work long shifts.”
“I couldn’t,” she said immediately, but I saw she was twisting her fingers together, nervously kneading the blanket on her lap, and realized she didn’t want to say yes. Not because she had somewhere better to be, not because she didn’t want to go somewhere clean and safe, but because she was proud.
I understood that. “You can,” I said, making up her mind for her. I turned the key in the ignition and threw the car into drive, yawning theatrically as I did. “I’ll never get any sleep if I don’t know you’re safe, and I’m bushed. So really, I promise, you’re doing me a big favor. Besides,” I said, still driving very slowly in case she made it clear she didn’t want to go, “I have too much food right now—I know that sounds like absolute bullshit but I’m just one guy and my two older sisters just dumped a bunch of shamefully delicious lasagna at my house. No kidding.” She cast a furtive glance in my direction, a bemused look on her face, so I continued. At least she wasn’t crying. And she hadn’t said to slow down, so I turned onto the main road and headed home. “They’re convinced that I’m going to starve, because it’s hard for me to cook for myself while I’m working… And I work a lot. They’re the best,” I said, still trying to get another look at her face without seeming like I was. “But older sisters… Dude. Seriously.” I pulled up to a red light and twisted to face her. “So, will you help a little brother out?” I smiled without being able to stop myself.
This time, she let me charm her a tiny bit. “Okay,” she said simply, and I nodded and drove home, my fingers itching to grab hers again the whole way.
~~~
Darcy
I felt so stupid.
And helpless, and pathetic, and just generally angry with myself. What was I doing? Was I seriously going home with a strange man, someone I’d just met tonight, under the most stressful circumstances possible? What was I thinking?
And yet… I felt safe.
I felt safe for the first time in weeks.
“What’s your name?” I needed to remember that I couldn’t trust this guy—I couldn’t trust any guy. Even if he’d just rushed into a burning building to save me, I could not afford to forget what brought me to that sad little apartment in the first place. I needed to be smart. Not so stupid and trusting and naïve—not all of the things that I’d been before Andre.
And yet. Here I was.
And I felt… Not only safe, but hopeful.
He laughed so hard when I asked his name that it was startling, and then the weirdest thing happened—I started laughing too. I looked over at his face and I couldn’t help it; he had the most amazing eyes, this guy, these beaming emeralds that just poured joy and fun into the world, like you could see inside of him and he was made of more of the same—joy, light, happiness. Completely unashamed of being that way, too; he was so comfortable with himself it was impossible not to be comfortable around him. And so we laughed for at least a minute, and when I finally stopped shaking he grinned down at me and said, “Mike.”
I swallowed. Those eyes… And I couldn’t deny that every inch of that face was just as nice to look at, just as much of a message to the world: I am joy. I am hope.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I heard myself say automatically. “I’m Darcy.”
“Darcy, huh,” he said, half to himself, his eyes now lidded as he looked into mine. And then he kind of shook his head and turned towards the road, as if my name made him remember something he’d forgotten until now. I was too scared to ask what he was thinking.
I didn’t want to ruin that feeling.
For so long, I realized, I’d been stripped of that knowledge: that there is light and happiness and hope and joy. The world is full of good things, beautiful things. I knew that once.
Andre had taken that knowledge from me. He’d made me believe I was helpless, and that everything was to be feared.
But it wasn’t true—the world was a lot more like Mike than Andre.
The world was full of light, and joy. And this man—this stranger who’d literally saved my life and brushed it off with a laugh, then had the compassion to give me a place to sleep and a plate of his sister’s lasagna—this man was real. He was giving me back what was taken from me, on the same night I lost everything.
It was a heavy thought.
“Should I ask what’s going through your mind right now?” Mike’s eyes scanned me through the rear-view mirror as we made a right onto a driveway and pulled up to a house with a huge yard. “Or should I just sleep with my door locked?”
I laughed again, unable to stop myself; that smile was contagious. He was out of the truck and helping me down from my side before I realized what was happening, and when I tucked my hand into his rough, calloused palm I felt a little weak in the knees… And froze.
For just a second.
Andre had made me smile. He’d been kind—or seemed that way. He wasn’t funny, and even in the beginning there was an edge to the way he spoke to me… As if I were a project, or an item on a to-do list.
I shrugged him off. I didn’t want him to interfere with the freedom Mike had given me, just by being himself.
“You okay?” He
knew something was off now, but hopefully he just put it down to having lost my house. I nodded, and he helped me down, then started to walk inside. I was slow to join him, and before I knew what was happening he’d returned.
Mike kneeled down in front of me.
I felt my heart in my throat.
He was absolutely the most handsome man I’d ever seen—story book, fairy tale prince handsome. And for some reason the sight of him kneeling stopped me in my tracks, just like it stopped all the worries in my mind.
“Let me carry you inside,” he said, his electric eyes locked on mine. “You… You still don’t have any shoes, and the gravel is tough.”
I held still, feeling those arms wrap around me again, and wondered where my common sense had gone.
And then I stopped wondering when I looked up at him again and saw that face, because I think there is not a single woman in the entire world that would have let common sense interfere with being held by Mike Valentine.
Uh-oh, I realized, as he settled me on the brick stoop and leaned over me to unlock the door.
This was going to be a long night.
~~~
Mike
Oh shit, I thought. This is going to be a very long night.
“So the master bedroom is down here,” I said, trying not to notice when she gently folded up the blanket and placed it very carefully by the front door. It was the only thing she owned now, I guessed, and she wanted to know where it was.
And now she was back to wearing a thin, barely-there cotton nightie. In my house. Standing in front of me, blinking up at me with those huge eyes. Her lashes were so long they cast shadows on her cheekbones. Jesus. I turned and pointed towards the kitchen, hoping she didn’t notice that I was getting turned on. Once she started walking that way I grabbed a hoodie from the rack by the door and threw it on, hoping it covered my traitorous dick, and then grabbed another one to cover her up. The house was warm enough, but it was the gentlemanly thing to do—not that I was up on that sort of thing, but give a guy credit for trying. “Hey, you cold?” I walked up and handed it to her, then pulled out a chair at the round table where I ate. “Give me just a minute, and I’ll throw some of that lasagna in the microwave. I’m starving.”
“Thank you,” she said again, and I nodded and headed into the kitchen.
My house is a one story ranch with three bedrooms. It’s a very comfortable house, and I take good care of it. I hoped she would rest well in the California King size bed, because I would be tossing and turning in the double guest bed; I didn’t think I’d sleep at all, knowing there was only a single wall between me and those eyes. And lips. And that hair… Maybe she’d want a shower? And then I was stuck thinking about her in the shower, getting so hard it almost hurt, when I heard her behind me.
“Can I help?” She was looking up at me again, and in the overhead light I could see the color of her eyes more clearly. The ring around her iris was very dark blue, but the color inside, around her pupil, was a color I’d never seen before—the same color as a plume of smoke, grey and navy and light blue all together. I realized I’d been staring at her for too long when she looked down at the floor again, her hands nervously rubbing against one another. “Maybe I can get us some water?”
“Yeah—water’s a good idea,” I said, and pointed at the fridge. “There’s a whole pitcher of cold water in there. The glasses are in the cupboard.” She wasn’t wearing the hoodie, and I realized the fire might have made her skin too sensitive to be covered up yet. She’d be fine in an hour or two; it felt like a bad sunburn.
She took care of our drinks while I got my act together—hiding my hard-on was going to be a struggle, I could tell—and after another minute we were ready to sit down and eat. I pulled out her chair and was pleasantly surprised when she expectantly looked up at me, asking with her eyes that I stay next to her. So I did, and pretended to be hungry while I watched her devour every bite.
“Hungry, huh?” I moved the food on my plate around a little bit and then leaned back like I was satisfied; I’d eaten plenty at the station for dinner, hours before, and didn’t need anything more. She gave me a tiny smile before wiping her plate clean with the piece of garlic bread I’d brought out, and when hers was empty I passed mine over. I hoped that wasn’t too intimate. She paused, glancing at me again, and when I nodded she went ahead and finished it off.
“Thank you,” she said for the millionth time.
“No problem,” I said, trying to move over a little bit so she wouldn’t get that crowded feeling that seemed to make her feel like a hunted animal. “Do me a favor, though, will you? Could you stop thanking me?”
“Excuse me—what did you say?” Darcy raised her eyebrows and swung towards me, an incredulous look on her face.
“Yeah—thanking someone for being a decent human and doing what anyone would do in their position is… I don’t know,” I said, smiling down at her as her lips began to lift in a laugh, “it’s just like, fine. Alright. I know I’m fantastic, but seriously. Let’s work on that vocabulary.”
“Wow,” she said, openly laughing now. “That is the rudest thing I’ve heard anybody say in a long time.”
“That’s more like it!” I grinned at her and snatched her plate away, her delicate hands fluttering in protest as she giggled. “Now. Ask me for another piece of lasagna.”
“No!” She was so surprised, so amused, that her eyes sparkled even in this dim light. There was a dimple in her left cheek. Jesus, the things I would do to her, given half a chance. “That’s so—”
“Rude, yeah, I know. But that’s the point, see,” I told her, waving a hand in the air like I was some kind of professor, pointing out a truth that everybody knows. “It’s also honest, and more importantly, unexpected.” I raised my eyebrows at her in mock seriousness. “That’s the way we do things around here. I like to be entertained, Darcy. So surprise me. Say something unexpected. Like, hey, you bastard, give me some more lasagna.”
She was laughing so hard that she had to support her upper body with her forearms, and her long hair was shaking across her shoulders, trailing down her back. “No! I will not. I refuse.”
“That’s too bad,” I said, abruptly standing up and walking over towards the counters at the back of the kitchen. “Because now I have to throw this in the trash. My sisters are going to be pissed.”
“Why in the world would you throw it in the trash?” She gaped at me, eyes wide, and twisted in her chair to glare at me. “That makes no sense!”
“I’m going to work tomorrow, and probably the day after, and the day after that, so it’ll just go bad. Or,” I pretended to mull over this imaginary problem, tapping my chin while I carefully balanced the rest of the pan of lasagna over the garbage can, “someone else could eat it. Just a thought. Someone who’s clearly starving and could use a decent home-made lasagna.” I shrugged, deliberately tipping it towards the can, and she jumped out of her chair with both hands outstretched, her face a portrait of delighted horror. “Oops!” I caught it at the last second, and she barked out such a hard laugh that she doubled over again. It was the cutest damn thing I’d ever seen.
“You’re crazy,” she said, shaking her head. She very slowly walked towards me, as if she were approaching a particularly charming grizzly. “But fine—may I have some more lasagna please?”
“Uh-oh—” I pretended to spill the lasagna again and she reached out and grabbed my hands, steadying them with her small ones. The feel of her skin on mine set me on fire, and I found myself needing to take a deep breath. When I looked down at her, neither of us was laughing any more.
I recovered first. “Well, you did pretty good. But that was a fairly boring request, Darcy—” I moved to dump it a third time, and she giggled and grabbed me again. Oh my god, I thought, if she doesn’t back up I’m going to…
This was the second time tonight I’d completely lost my mind around her, I noted, so this time I stopped the train before it arrived in Crazytown. But only j
ust. “Don’t!” She was laughing, laughing so hard it made her breasts jiggle, and my god she wasn’t wearing a bra and now she was bumping in to me, trying to keep that goddamn lasagna from falling and I’ll be damned if she didn’t back up she might feel my—
“Okay, okay, okay,” I said, taking a quick step away before those magnificent tits came any closer to me. “You’re getting in to the spirit of things. Now, repeat after me: give me that damn lasagna.”
“No,” she said, but she was laughing so hard that it barely sounded like a word. “No!” Darcy stood up straight and tried to keep a serious expression on her face, but it wasn’t working. “Please don’t throw it away, Mike.”
“Bonus points for remembering my name. Now, imagine that we’re an old married couple—just roll with it. You wouldn’t be worried about hurting my feelings, then, would you? No. You would just spit it out. Come on, try it. Imagine you’re actually comfortable and having a decent time. Come on.” I grinned down at her, giving her a blast of my patented charm, but it just made her roll her eyes.
“I am having a decent time,” she suddenly said, freezing mid-eye roll, and seemed slightly surprised by that fact. “I’m having fun, actually,” she told me, and then raised her smoky eyes to mine. “Mike, I—
“If you say thank you I’m dumping it straight in the trash,” I warned her. She giggled, then collected herself and nodded solemnly.
“Give me that damn lasagna. You bastard,” she added, as an afterthought, and held out her hands.
“Very good,” I said, and gingerly placed it in her upturned palms. “Now, if you manage to eat the whole pan, I’ll give you a gold star. Go for it.”
“I can’t do that,” she said, turning back to the table, but then she paused and looked at me over her shoulder, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “But I can try.”
“See? That’s the spirit,” I called, and she went back to the table, laughing to herself.
What the fuck was I doing?
I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest as if I were guarding my heart, and watched her settle back down at the table. She neatly spread her napkin on her lap—the same one she’d used before, since it was still completely spotless—picked up her fork, and went to town on that pasta. Darcy was utterly silent, and the impression of a wild animal remained, as if she were a beautiful doe, her ears trained to the slightest sound. I stayed where I was and enjoyed the view.