by J. L. Jarvis
“Cost us an extra half a minute.”
“Great.” The whole lock situation was unsettling, which must have shown on her face.
Luke’s smile faded. “Look, if I wanted to break into your house, I’d have done so by now. But I didn’t, and I wouldn’t unless you needed me to. I promise.”
It made sense, but it didn’t make her feel any less vulnerable. “Anyone could do what you just did.”
He nodded. “A lock is just your first line of defense.”
What’s my second? Chloe took in a breath, but before she could ask, he said, “Go on in and warm up. And maybe hide an extra key somewhere in case I’m not around.”
She put her hand on the doorknob and held the door open a crack, just enough to keep from locking herself out again. She turned to Luke, still fixated on how he had picked her front door lock.
“But don’t hide it under the doormat or above the doorframe,” he added.
“I guess I could hide it on top of the porch light.”
He shook his head.
Chloe looked around, considering.
“Not in front,” Luke said. “Someplace not near a door. Be creative.”
Chloe was already imagining an evening in front of her computer, looking up the security products she was going to buy.
He regarded her amiably. “You still fretting about the door lock?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll be fine.”
She doubted that.
“Look, go inside, make yourself a nice hot Irish coffee, and forget about it—until tomorrow when you can do something about it.”
“Okay. It’s forgotten.” I’m imagining my next home invasion. “Bye.”
Once inside, Chloe locked the door and went to her studio to paint. She looked around at the three glass walls. A thin layer of glass stood between her and whatever was out there. She set down her painting supplies and went to the kitchen, where she’d left her phone. She picked it up, stared at it, and looked up Luke’s number. Good. It was there, just in case she needed it during the night. You’re being silly. She put down her phone. No, you’re not. She stared at the phone for several seconds. Quickly, she picked it up. “Call Luke.”
“Hello?”
“It doesn’t have to be human. A bear could come crashing through my solarium window!”
“Probably not gonna happen.” She could have sworn she detected a smile in his voice.
“It’s creepy.”
“What’s creepy?”
“Being here with my lame windows and locks. I mean, I may as well just leave everything open.”
“You’d be cold.” Yes, she could hear him smiling.
“I’m being stupid,” Chloe said. “Never mind.”
“I’m sorry I’ve scared you.”
She exhaled. “Well, it’s just that the whole lock demonstration was pretty impressive, by which I mean terrifying.”
He didn’t speak for a while, then he asked, “Wanna watch a movie?”
“I guess.”
“Give me a minute. I’ll be over.”
“Okay.”
She hung up. What just happened? She hadn’t meant to invite him. She just thought she might feel better talking to someone. Now he was coming over. It was nice of him. She felt better already, but… yeah, he was just being nice.
She answered his knock at the door. “I made popcorn.”
“Great! So what are we watching?”
She took his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. “Anything that doesn’t involve home invasion.”
He laughed. They flipped a coin, and he got to choose first. For starters, they would watch an action movie. Chloe brought out a blanket to share as they sat on opposite ends of her sofa. They took breaks and argued about characters and plot, and they laughed. She couldn’t even remember about what. She just knew it was funny and easy between them. Being with Luke was comfortable—except when she turned to reach into the popcorn bowl and glanced at him. She’d never noticed that tiny scar on his jaw. She leaned back on her side of the sofa and studied his face. What would happen if she traced that strong jawline to his lips and then kissed him? She would probably get the same treatment as that guy in the bar. She would be down for the count within seconds. He turned and noticed her staring at him, then he smiled until Chloe looked down. She turned her attention back to the movie.
A few minutes later, he leaned over for popcorn, and she caught a glimpse of another scar—not a hairline scar like the one on his jaw, but a thicker scar, about two inches long, above his ear and extending toward the top of his head.
He turned and saw her wide-eyed expression. “What?”
“Sorry.” She averted her eyes. “It’s just… that looks like it must have hurt.”
He seemed almost annoyed. “Oh, that. I told you I’d had a TBI.”
“Yeah, I just…” She didn’t know how he could have fallen in that particular place, and she didn’t know how to ask him. He’d been evasive the first time the topic had come up.
He picked up the remote and paused the movie. “A bullet grazed my head.”
“That’s a little bit more than a graze.”
“Well, it’s fine now. There’s no lasting brain damage except the headaches and vertigo, but they say that should subside.”
“They? Like guys at the bar?”
He laughed. “No, my doctors. Are we finished here? I’d like to see what happens next.”
So would I, but I’m not talking about the movie. She was still stuck on the bullet wound.
The movie ended, and it was Chloe’s turn to pick. She took pleasure in announcing the genre: rom-com. After some deliberation, they agreed on a movie and pressed Play.
Later, as poignant music played over the closing credits, Chloe slept. Luke got up and spread a throw blanket over her. For a few moments, he watched her sleeping peacefully before whispering, “Good night.” As he left, he set the lock and pulled the door closed behind him.
Eleven
Chloe awoke the next morning. A warm smile bloomed as she recalled her evening with Luke. Nothing had happened in any definable way, but it felt as though something had changed between them. If only for an evening, they had reached beyond their comfort zones and found they were better together.
She looked outside. Luke’s car was gone. By the end of the day, when he hadn’t returned, she realized he’d gone away. Where or for how long, she didn’t know. But she missed him.
She knew from the faint ache in her heart that she was falling in love. There was no point in pretending it wasn’t happening or in trying to hold it at bay. She entertained no delusions that anything real might come of it. But after being alone for so long, it felt good to have something to cling to—a feeling, a hope. Just the warmth that filled her when she thought of him made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t been in so long.
But today he was gone. She could not pine all day, wondering where he was or what he might be thinking about her. She needed a distraction, something real in her life. The roads had been cleared, so she went to her studio and pulled out three of her paintings from the series of storage racks lining half the wall. She still felt amazed by how lucky she was to have a place like this to work.
After loading the paintings into her car, she headed for town. She checked the business card she had found in her aunt’s things and went into the shop. It was packed with shelves of gift items and pottery from local artisans. She caught sight of the walls in the back, which were covered with paintings.
“May I help you?” Behind the counter stood a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair. Her wild curls were haphazardly scooped into a scrunchie and twisted into a bun.
“I hope so. Are you Laura?”
“I am.”
Chloe set her portfolio and paintings on the floor, propping them up against the counter. “I found your card in my aunt’s things.”
The woman looked back at her with polite interest. “Your aunt?”
Laura’s face lit with emotion. “Eleanor Dowd was your aunt?” Her eyes misted up. “I miss her so. And her work. Both were so lovely.”
Chloe nodded, agreeing. She may not have known her aunt, but the woman had left behind over four hundred paintings, all of which Chloe adored. “I was hoping you might look at some of my paintings. To sell on consignment.”
“Of course! Let’s take a look.” Laura cleared off some papers to make room while Chloe lifted one of the paintings and set it down on the counter.
Laura put on her glasses and studied the painting with a critical eye, at times almost smiling, then drawing her eyebrows together. She glanced up at Chloe. “Where did you study?”
“Temple.”
Laura nodded with approval. “Let’s see the others.”
Chloe lifted the next and went through the same silent scrutiny. After she had shown Laura the third, the shop owner said, “I’ll take all three. You’ve got your aunt’s talent. Of course, your styles are entirely different, but the talent is there. I’ll take the second one for myself. What did you want for it?”
Laura didn’t blink an eye at Chloe’s asking price. She just pulled out her personal checkbook and wrote Chloe a check. “I’ll hang these others, and as soon as I’ve got some space, I’d like to see what else you’ve got.”
Chloe felt a bit stunned. “Sure.”
Laura looked through Chloe’s portfolio and asked about which ones were available for sale in the shop. She leaned closer and smiled. “Let’s keep a running inventory of three, and we’ll see how it goes.”
Chloe nodded enthusiastically. “Okay.”
“Do you have a card in case I need to contact you?”
Chloe wrinkled her face. “Not yet. I’m just getting settled, but I’m at my aunt’s house. The number’s the same.”
“Got it. Oh, and I’ll need a certificate of authenticity for each of these.”
Chloe nodded. “Sorry, I’ve got those right here.” She reached into her portfolio and pulled out a brown envelope. Then she pulled out the certificates and explained which title went with which painting.
When Chloe had finished, Laura reached out and shook Chloe’s hand. “I am so glad to meet you.”
“Me too.” Smiling, Chloe left the shop. My first sale. She took in a deep breath and exhaled. I’m a professional artist.
Chloe pulled into her driveway. Luke’s driveway was still empty. No one could say he was a homebody. Was disappearing without notice a habit of his? She rolled her eyes. Notice? He’s your neighbor. He doesn’t have to check in with you.
Spurred on by her first sale, she spent the afternoon painting and designing a business card. Then she researched how to sell her work online. She wasn’t sure whether to simply sell prints or to venture into merchandising. Finally, she decided to begin with the prints and expand from there.
Painting was the only thing that could get her mind off her new feelings for Luke, and she immersed herself in it. For two days, she barely came up for air, and the painting went well. So did the business aspect of it. By the end of the third day, she had formed a clear idea of the direction her art business was going and the logistics of setting it up.
Outside, dusk was falling. Having arrived at a stopping point, Chloe suddenly realized she was hungry. She’d worked straight through the day, barely stopping, and she had forgotten to eat. She closed the door to her studio, feeling very accomplished, and went into the kitchen to scrounge up some dinner. As she searched the cabinets and fridge, the phone rang. Thinking it might be a sales call, she was tempted to ignore it, but she reached out, barely looking, and picked up the phone.
“Have you eaten?”
She knew the voice instantly and glanced out the window. Luke’s light was on, and his car was in the driveway. Her heart soared. “No. I was just looking through my cabinets for something.” She chuckled. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”
“Sort of. I saw the light on in your studio, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Oh. That was thoughtful of you.”
“Let’s go into town. I’m buying.”
“Okay. Give me twenty minutes.” Chloe hung up the phone. Calm down. He’s just hungry and doesn’t want to eat alone. That was exactly what she did not want to believe, but she was falling too hard, and she needed to protect herself.
She glanced at her phone for the time. How long had it been since she’d hung up? She had nineteen minutes, tops, to get ready. She kicked into gear, showered, and towel dried her hair. She realized as she pulled on her top and put in her earrings that she was happily humming Christmas carols. After a quick final look, she headed for the door but then stopped abruptly.
She didn’t know if he was coming to her house or if she was going to his. If she waited for him to come over, it would seem like she was assuming it was a date. If Luke lingered at his house and she remained too long at hers, it would be awkward. Chloe, don’t overthink it!
She pulled on her boots and coat, grabbed her purse, and checked for her keys. She would not forget those. She pulled open the door and came face-to-face with Luke, who was reaching for the doorbell.
They stared at each other for a second then laughed. Chloe said, “I wasn’t sure if—”
“Me too. My fault.” He smiled and gazed at her. “It’s good to see you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Three days’ worth of questions clouded her thinking, but she was still pleased to see him.
He tilted his head. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
She hadn’t heard him pull his car into her driveway, but there it was. She must have been drying her hair. He always seemed to catch her off guard.
After a short drive, they pulled up in front of a small bar and grill on the outskirts of town. The dining area was small, dimly lit, and romantic. But the glaring lights of an old fast-food joint would have looked just as romantic to Chloe in the mood she was in. She was happy to see Luke and to be with him.
After the server brought their drinks and took their order, Luke leaned forward. “So what have you been up to?”
She talked about her painting and the business she planned to set up. He was interested and asked all sorts of questions. When they’d thoroughly discussed it, she asked, “What about you? What have you been doing?”
He made a face. “Nothing as interesting as what you’ve just told me.”
“Try me.” She leaned forward, curious to hear.
“Work.”
“What is it you do again?”
Before he could answer, their food arrived. Luke started to tell her how he loved the food there.
“Luke?” She realized she had sounded abrupt, so she softened her tone. “You didn’t finish telling me what you’ve been doing.” He hadn’t started, but she wasn’t about to split hairs.
“Didn’t I? I was sure that I had.”
“No. And I’m not really sure what you do for a living.”
“I work for the State Department.”
“Right. You’re a data analyst.”
He nodded.
“So data is pretty much online or on computers, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily.” He regarded her for a moment as she stared at the scar on his head.
“I’m trying to figure out how dodging bullets fits in to your job duties.”
“Oh, the gunshot.”
“Yeah, the gunshot.”
“Well, it usually doesn’t. I’m fine now. It put me out of commission at work, at least temporarily. But I’m almost up to speed, so they’ve been calling me in to consult.”
It made sense, she supposed—the work part anyway. She nodded. It still seemed so nebulous, but she didn’t want to interrogate him on their first date… or dinner… or whatever this was. She still wasn’t sure. But the gunshot wound was an issue she couldn’t let go of. Aside from the question of why people were shooting at him, she didn’t want to catch one of the strays. She
took a few bites of her dinner then quietly asked, “How did you get shot?”
“Chloe, I’d rather not talk about it. Let’s just say I got in the way of a bullet, but I’m okay.”
“Are we okay? Is someone going to pull up in their car and open fire on us?”
“No! I would never put you in danger!”
Chloe thought about the scene at the bar.
From the look on his face, he was remembering it too. “Chloe, you’re safe.”
She was pushing too hard, and she didn’t have the right. They weren’t that close. As long as he was telling the truth, which she believed he was doing, he didn’t owe her any more of an explanation than that.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
But he did, however unwittingly. He had a mysterious bullet wound, and she didn’t know why. And now she felt uncomfortable. Anyone would. For a while, they quietly focused on eating, occasionally managing to exchange a few shallow comments. They declined dessert, and Luke asked for the check. The car ride home wasn’t much better.
Luke walked her to the door. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”
Mind? She had not expected that. “No.”
He bent down and touched his lips softly to hers. When he pulled away, her head was spinning. So that’s what chemistry is. She’d never known it would feel like a tsunami assaulting her senses. She gazed into his eyes, still reeling.
He smiled. “Got your key?”
“Yes!” One kiss and she’d lost her mind. “Yes, it’s in here somewhere.” She rummaged through her purse. Dammit, where was it? She checked her pockets and exhaled with relief as she held it up. “Got it.” Judging from the glint in Luke’s eyes, he was enjoying her key-searching frustration far more than she was.
She opened the door, and when she turned to say good night, he put his hand behind her head and kissed her again, longer and deeper than before. “Good night, Chloe.”
She was surprised her voice came out at all, but she managed to squeak out “Good night” before he turned and left.