Despite her words, the squeeze she makes on my hand is enough to confirm my intentions.
“I’m not going anywhere without you.”
I see the relief in her eyes and the quiver on her lips. Desperate to ease the tremble, I lean forward and press my mouth to hers, calming her with a kiss.
“Thank you,” she breathes.
My hand reaches up on to her forehead and brushes aside the hair caught up in her eyelashes.
“I can’t tell you how crushed I was today when I thought something had happened to you and then when I saw how that piece of shit had gagged and bound you. I wanted to rip him to pieces.”
I lower my gaze in an effort to redirect the anger that is bursting from me, away from her. When my heart rate slows somewhat, I raise my stare.
“You mean everything to me, Meredith. I’m not letting you from my sight until I’m confident you’re safe.”
She nods her head, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.
I brush the pad of my thumbs across her cheekbones and wipe away her sadness.
“I promise.” I whisper, sealing the pledge with my lips.
After several minutes she closes her eyes, as do I, both drifting off to sleep still joined at the hand.
Several times I wake during the night, to check she is still breathing, like she’s a newborn baby I have sudden responsibility for.
When she finally wakes and slides her hand from mine to push herself up the pillows at the top of the bed, she croaks out my name. “Johnson.”
I stir, sitting bolt upright before remembering where I am.
“Do you think we can go home now?”
I check the time on my watch and go to find a nurse.
The whole process takes an hour, but at least that gives Blane’s driver time to retrieve my car from the pound they hauled it to after I dumped it outside the kidnapper’s apartment. And for me to sort out the release fee I’m obliged to pay.
“I could take a cab,” Meredith offers.
“What all the way to Redwood?”
“Redwood?” She frowns. “Your place?”
I nod. “I’m not about to take you back to your apartment. Not after what happened there.”
I falter, because no-one is sure yet what happened in Meredith’s apartment. Dale Simmons has clammed up and no-one can get any sense out of him. Meredith’s recollection is hazy, but at least the checks here confirmed the only harm she suffered was a blow to the head.
“Anyway, I want to take care of you.”
“But…,” she protests.
“I insist,” I cut her off.
She has little choice but to agree, which she does with a smile.
As we walk out to the car, it reminds me of the last time I took someone home from hospital. Blane. That incident should have been enough to have snapped me to my senses and admit how shallow I had become. But it didn’t. Now, I’ve got a second chance at this, and I will not waste it. My determination is strong.
“I don’t want to sound like an alcoholic or anything, but could we stop off for wine on the way? I could do with a drink later,” she asks.
I open the door for her and wait until she lowers into the seat before racing around the hood to the driver’s seat. I take the keys off Blane’s driver, and I jump into my seat.
Then, I answer her request. “No need, babe. I’ve got it covered.”
“Okay,” she says with a furrowed brow.
“I stocked my wine rack with your favorite Cab Franc.”
“How did you know I would ever go to your place?”
“I always knew.” The truth of my words evident in the simplicity of their delivery.
She doses off during the drive home and I repeatedly glance at her. Any reservations I had about taking a woman to my home, don’t seem to hold true with Meredith.
Close to home, I pull into a gas station, leaving Meredith asleep in the car. She wakes when I return, stretching her back and letting out a yawn. “What have you got here, Johnson?”
I pass over the bag and she sticks her hand and nose into it, naming each item as she discovers it. “Steak. Apples. Cereal. So, are you cooking steak for dinner?”
“I’m gonna give it a go.” I smile. “I mean how hard can it be?”
She shakes her head and laughs. “As long as it’s not pizza. I don’t think I could ever face pizza again.”
“No, me neither.” Thinking about the memories pizza brings up for the both of us.
“So, is this dessert?” She holds up a firm green apple.
“Yep, and cereal for breakfast.” It’s clear as soon as I’ve said it, how lame it sounds.
“But you said you’ve got wine, right?”
“Yeah, a case full.”
“Good, then that’s all that matters.”
She shuffles the bag between her knees and on to the floor, and I drive the rest of the way home chatting with Meredith about food and wine.
When I pull the car in front of the house, she leans forward in her seat and looks up at the frontage. “Wow. It’s impressive. This is for one person?” She slips off her seat belt and puts her hand on the door handle.
“It was,” I murmur under my breath.
The obvious awe at my house doesn’t subside when she enters the hall. Raising her head up and around at the staircase and poking her nose into the living area.
“Where do I put my shoes?” she asks, as she steps out of them.
I open the door to a bare closet, the fresh new smell revealing it has never been used. “This is for guests’ shoes, but yours… I’ll take upstairs to my closet later.” I reach to take them from her, leaving them on a stair tread.
She pads towards the living area and I hold back watching her move into my space.
It’s as if this is what the house was waiting for.
Her.
To move through it and give it energy.
“It is lovely here.” Meredith stands at a window in the living area, looking at the perfect view.
I say perfect because it is exactly how I want it, with trees planted at either side of the backyard that frame a postcard view of the golf course beyond. “And you designed all of this?”
“Kind of.”
I feel as if I am betraying her somehow by not telling her the whole truth. Even though there are parts I’ve not even admitted to myself.
“Do you want coffee, Meredith?”
“Ooh yes please. I haven’t had a proper coffee in what… twenty-four hours?” She laughs.
Her laugh bounces off the living room walls and it’s as if the house applauds with approval.
“Can we go out there?” She points through to the backyard. “I would love to sit in the fresh air.”
“Sure. I’ll bring the coffee out in a sec.” I unlock the door and slide it open for her, passing her a checkered wool blanket from a box near the door.
I retreat into the kitchen and watch through the gap as she meanders through the planted-out yard up to the edge of the adjacent golf course.
My legs are unsteady and my heart beats erratically. I lean onto the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew, my head hung while I bring my breathing under control.
This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting all this time for and the significance of it is overwhelming.
With the last of the spurts from the coffee machine, I focus on my breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
Each breath drawn refuels my mind and makes clear the vision I have for the two of us. Here. Together.
Taking the two mugs, I walk across to the doors, sliding them open with my foot. She turns, her shoulders wrapped in the blanket and her flax hair flicking over her shoulder.
I need to sit down.
She skips across. “Johnson, it’s just fabulous here. I never imagined your place would be this beautiful.”
I will agree with you, Meredith, but only if you promise to stay. Otherwise it will be the ugliest place on this planet, and I will b
oard it up forever.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Meredith
I sit in one of the two chairs he has perfectly positioned on the decking and breathe in the perfect mix of fresh country air and coffee.
“How you feeling now?” he asks, settling on to a chair next to me, one of his legs stretched out and the other tucked under.
“Much better, thank you. Although it’s only now sinking in how frightening it all was and what might have happened if you hadn’t discovered where I was.” I shudder. “His voice, and the way he paced up and down. He was so unbalanced, I wasn’t sure what he would do next.”
He places his mug on the deck and reaches over for my hand. I take it and he tugs me across to him.
“Come here,” he says in a soft low voice.
I stand and step across, sitting down on his lap and leaning back into his chest. He adjusts the blanket on my shoulders and hugs me into him. The warmth of his breath feathering across the top of my head.
“I will not let anything like that happen to you again Meredith. Never. If my sole purpose in life is to keep you safe, then I will.”
My heart skips a beat. No-one has ever said anything like that before. I’ve had to become the strong independent woman because there has been no-one else. My mother crumbled when my dad died and my grandmother’s strength never seemed to be from a position of caring. More to do with keeping order and tradition.
The vulnerability I suffered yesterday at the hands of Dale Simmons shook me to the core. I’d never imagined I would be in such a situation and without Johnson rescuing me, goodness knows what the outcome might have been.
My breath hitches and I try to clamp down on a sob that threatens to blurt out.
What would have happened if it wasn’t for Johnson? Because I didn’t have a plan yesterday. I’d built up an ideal I was invincible and the only person that would ever touch me would be someone I invited to. I’d always thought my patients weren’t equal, and that I held a superior card of fate over them. How wrong I was.
I turn to look passed Johnson’s strong jaw and along his tanned skin to those genuinely blue eyes. Eyes that are crystal clear on this bright day, they seem incapable of hiding a secret or a lie.
“Thank you Johnson. And thank you for bringing me here. I’m not sure I could have stepped a solitary foot into my apartment today.”
“You’re safe here Meredith and I’m pleased you like it.”
I hum my approval onto his chest, not wanting to break away.
“Because you are the first woman I’ve ever brought here.”
I still. “Really?”
“I didn’t tell you this part of my story, but when Kirsty left me, I had this place built, as a replica of the villa we had purchased in Florida. I thought the reason she decided against the move was because she didn’t want to live so far away from her family, not because she didn’t want to be with me. So, I commissioned this house, expecting she would change her mind. But she didn’t. And as the months passed I settled into a pattern of hotels and hookups, only staying here a handful of nights each year.”
What he says makes sense. It’s not a place for one person, especially not one who never has house guests. And the style of it is suited to a more southerly climate, with the cool marble floors and white walls. The large open spaces and immense picture windows.
“In recent years I had a mind to sell it, move somewhere fresh, but until now it seemed pointless. I mean where would I go? And how could anywhere else be any different if it remained just for me?”
“Yeah,” I quietly agree.
“But I need you to understand I’m over Kirsty and that’s because I can now see why she left.”
He places a gentle thumb under my chin and slowly lifts it up, so I look once again into his eyes. “I will not make that same mistake twice. So, Meredith, if it makes you feel uncomfortable staying here, knowing that, then I understand and in a heartbeat I’ll rent somewhere else.”
“But Kirsty never stayed here?”
“No. She’s never set foot in the place.”
“Well, there’s no problem then is there.”
“Only if you’re sure. Because you’re all that matters right now.”
Now I understand this man, who thought life would play out to plan. All he had to do was show up every day, prove his worth and let it unfold. But what he hadn’t accounted for, were people in his life he thought he could depend on. He hadn’t harmed them, so didn’t conclude they were justified in taking the action they did. To leave him. Without explanation. Or recourse.
This man, sat holding me together now, with his strong arms and steady thighs. His voluminous chest and dependable heartbeat. Is still that vulnerable boy. Those eyes tell me that.
The only part of him that hasn’t grown and matured into the hulk of a man here now. Those eyes as blue as the first morning sky.
Innocent.
Vulnerable.
The first tear that trickles from my eye goes unnoticed when I lower my gaze.
The second I discreetly wipe away.
The third has him squeezing me tight.
And when they start to stream, I’m not sure if it is me I’m crying for, or him. Or both.
He bends at the neck and kisses them away and then holds me tight into his warm chest.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers onto my scalp, making it shiver with the significance his words.
“And I’ve got you,” I breathe onto his chest.
We sit clamped together for several moments before either of us are composed enough to speak.
“Would you like to see the rest of the house now?”
“Yes, I would.” I say enthusiastically although reluctant to stand up off his lap.
He gathers our two mugs by their handles and entwines his fingers into mine with his free hand.
“This is the backyard and around that corner is a garage where I keep all my golf stuff.” He leads me over the threshold into the living area. “You’ve seen all this and through here is an office.”
He dumps the mugs on a side table before taking me through a door off to the left of the living area. Like the rest of the rooms on this lower floor, it has a double height ceiling and a large picture window. There’s a desk in front of the window, two sofas and a display cabinet full of golf trophies. The walls are covered in photographs of Johnson with various golfing buddies and, similar to the rest of the house I’ve seen so far, it is plain and stylishly decorated. There are no stacks of paper on the desk and no books on the bookshelves, in fact, no clutter at all.
“It must be lovely to work from here.” I comment, regarding a different view of the backyard.
“No idea, I never come in here.” He shrugs, stroking his jaw with his palm.
“I can imagine floor to ceiling bookshelves with one of those ladders that slides around on a rail. And an oversized love seat near the window you could curl up on and read, looking out over the yard every time a sentence requires you to glance up from the words and daydream.”
He chuckles. “You see that’s what this place is missing. Books.” Shaking his head.
I join in his laughter. “No, Johnson, it’s missing a woman’s touch.”
He lifts his eyebrows and then pulls on my hand. “And back through here is the kitchen.”
I marvel at the clean surfaces and precision placed gadgets. He opens the refrigerator and puts the steaks he bought earlier out of the bag and places them onto a bare glass shelf.
He catches sight of my surprised look.
“Another room that’s missing a woman’s touch?”
“I don’t stay here often,” he explains. “But my wine rack is full.” He slides out a bottle of Cab Franc from under the counter. “And I’ve seen what effect wine has on you.”
I sidle up to him and slink my arms onto his shoulders, my hands loosely linked around the back of this neck. I stroke my thumb up and down the top couple of vertebrae which makes him push his hips f
orward. He dips his head and wraps his arms around my waist.
“Did you not hear what the doctor said about not exerting myself? And he specifically said, no alcohol.”
“I heard what he said.” He licks the end of my nose, making me shiver and I bury the cold end onto his chest. “but you don’t have to exert yourself. You can leave that all to me.”
I look up through my lashes at the wickedness twinkling in his eyes. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really, and I’m not bothered if you drink wine or not either.” He plants a firm grip on my ass and lifts me up. I wrap my legs over his hips and lock them at the ankles.
“Because I’m the only stimulant you will need today.”
He carries me back into the circular hallway and ascends the spiral staircase.
“Are you seriously doing this right now?”
“Uhuh. And don’t wiggle because you’ll put me off balance and I’ll topple backwards.”
“I’m not wiggling.”
“Yes, you are. I can feel you trying to burrow onto my cock.”
“Oh, please!”
He chuckles.
The whiteness extends all the way up the walls around the staircase and into his gargantuan bedroom.
“Wow.” I gawp around his head. “It’s huge…”
“That’s what all the girls say.”
I screw up my forehead at him. “About that…”
“What the size of my cock? I’m gifted, what can I say?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I meant all the girls.”
“Do we have to go there now? I mean, I’m about to ravish you and talking about other women is a real cockblock.”
“I just wanted to say the past doesn’t matter to me. It’s all about now.”
He stops and pulls his chin into his neck. “Good. Because I have no past. Now.” He growls into my ear.
I look beyond him to the wall opposite the bed. “Anyway, I’m not sure what the female version of a cockblock is… but those pictures?”
He turns to look at the three paintings of nude women taking up half of the wall opposite the bed.
“They may be artful but it’s not what a girl wants to stare at when she is trying to get off on her man.”
Tee It Up: A Wilder Brothers Romance Page 17