by Juli Valenti
He’d expected the woman to chuckle at him and raise an eyebrow, or make a comment about what a nice young man he was being like she had last time. Instead, she looked deep in thought for a moment before holding one finger up.
“Ah! I’ve got it. We have some knitted tights that came in the other day from the good ladies at Calvary Baptist. Those should help to off-set the cold on her legs. Her arms, well, she’s going to need a jacket, which we just don’t have,” she told him, leading him to the shelf and picking out a pair of tights before handing them to him.
“No, that’s okay. She can wear mine,” he said quickly. After all, he still had on his long-sleeved uniform shirt, as well as an undershirt. The walk to the car wouldn’t be too bad and if he froze, oh well. Drew being warm was more important than him being warm, as far as he was concerned. Just as he was about to say he was finished he remembered something important. Shoes. There wasn’t any snow on the ground, luckily, but that didn’t mean she could go barefoot or in ugly hospital socks. Embarrassed, he asked softly, “Shoes?”
“Do you know what size she wears? I noticed you chose a small in the dress.”
“Um … well, she’s about this high,” he demonstrated with one hand to his shoulder, “and thin. I’d guess average, if there is one?”
This time the lady did chuckle. “Well, son, in the future you should probably ask these questions. I’d go with a seven. If they don’t fit, bring ‘em back here and I’ll exchange ‘em before she has to go outside. I’m afraid the only thing we have that would go with that dress would be some black ballet-style flats, so I hope that’s okay?”
“Ma’am, I know virtually nothing about shoes, or women’s clothing in general. I hear the words you’re saying, but you’re pretty much speaking Greek. If you say they’ll match, I’m good with that,” he told her, handing her his credit card in exchange for the shoes she extended. Now that he was looking at them he understood the name. They kind of looked like the shoes ballerinas wore. Go figure.
“Shit,” he muttered to himself, watching Drew as she held the bag containing the clothes to her chest, tears falling from her face.
Jensen knew the old saying, that women and men were from different planets, but right now he felt like it should be altered. From what he was watching, it should be different universes. Never would another dude ever be caught dead getting choked up about something as trivial as clothes, but seeing the way the young woman was reacting in front of him put him at a complete loss.
A flashback from his time overseas flickered in his memory, of a little girl sobbing when he handed her a granola bar from his MRE. He’d been out on patrol for going on sixteen hours at the time and stole a minute to himself, famished. But as he’d pulled it from his pack, the child had appeared out of nowhere. The sadness in her eyes, mixed with longing, made him pause. If he’d had to guess, she couldn’t have been more than five or six. She was tiny, dirty, and from the look of her she hadn’t eaten in days. Without sparing a second thought, he’d held the snack out to her – she needed it more, and he’d suddenly lost his appetite anyway. The girl had completely fallen apart, cradling the wrapped granola in her hands with her head bowed over it.
He’d been uncomfortable then – wishing he could do more, not knowing what to do to console her, all of which he was feeling now. To him, it had just been a measly, dry, granola bar. Hell, he didn’t know if the dress and shoes were even going to fit Drew, but clearly, she was similar to the young girl in that moment.
It seemed like an eternity before Drew raised her head, wiped at her face, and met his gaze. Thoughts and emotion passed too fast for him to catch and he was internally grateful when she spoke.
“Thank you,” she managed, her words almost choked out. “I will pay you back.”
For a second time, he was struck silent. Jensen wanted her to like what he got her, but in no way did he want her feeling indebted to him – the fact that was where her thoughts had gone astonished him. The whole outfit thing was less than thirty bucks and who cared? True, he wasn’t one of the billionaire hunks most women read about in romance novels, but he wasn’t poor. The best part about serving in the military, and spending so much time overseas, was he’d been able to save a good portion of his base pay. That, along with his police salary, put him at the comfortable middle class band in the world.
“Drew, no,” he started to tell her, but she’d already looked away, not seeing that he’d spoken. Instead, she stood, still holding the bag tightly to her, and made her way into the bathroom.
We’re going to have to talk about that, Jensen thought, hating that he hadn’t been able to dispel the idea from her mind. Now that she’d said it, he had a good feeling she was planning to pay him for everything nice he’d done for her, or gotten her. He suddenly felt stupid – she wasn’t used to nice gestures with no strings attached, so of course she’d only assume he’d want to be repaid.
Another thought sprang up, causing him to scowl at the cold tile floor. No, she can’t possibly think – he halted the path his mind was on, hating that it could have some real roots in her. If Drew thought, for one minute, he expected anything – monetarily or otherwise – he was going to put the kibosh to it.
You do want her, his subconscious chimed in, but he ignored it. He knew he did – but having her because she felt like she owed something to him definitely wasn’t what he wanted. If it took him burying every feeling he had for her, hiding them deep where she couldn’t find them, to make her realize he didn’t expect things from her, he’d do it. The Marines taught him all about hiding emotion; it would be hard to hide them from Drew, but it would be a small price to pay for both of their peace of mind.
Chapter Nine
Drew
I cried over a dress, tights, and shoes, Drew thought despairingly. She’d been working so hard to get control over her emotions; hell, she’d actually talked to the therapist about her feelings – the past, her brother, even Jensen. It was long past time she buck up, be the strong woman she had to be before entering the hospital, but at every turn, she still broke down.
Dressed, she stared at herself in the mirror. The shoes were a tad too small, but not ridiculously so. What surprised her though, was the dress. She’d been small before everything happened, and knew she’d lost more weight as time went on with her father around – though it was harder to see behind the cover of baggier clothes. Now, she was seeing herself in Technicolor.
The neckline was cut to a vee, probably to show off a normal woman’s assets flatteringly, yet on her all it did was highlight the visible bones in her ribcage. Her shoulders bulged at the arms, and the rest of the material hung loosely down her body. Drew had spent the last almost four months in the hospital, wearing nothing but shapeless, plain gowns, and here she was in a dress that, while more colorful, hung much the same.
Sighing, she turned her gaze, determined not to lose it again. Instead she took a deep breath, opened the door, and exited to find Jensen sitting on the tile floor. He didn’t look up as she made her way to him, keeping his head cradled in his hands and his head down. From where she stood above him, he looked so small – a change since he always seemed so much bigger than she was.
Not knowing what to do, she knelt beside him and grasped his elbow, forcing a hand away from his face. The look he gave her shook her. He seemed so … sad, an emotion out of place on his strong, handsome face. He said nothing as he used his free hand to caress her face before standing, holding out an arm to help her up as well.
His arms wrapped around her slight frame and she rested her head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat and breathing him in. There was something so comforting about being that close to him, feeling his heat. She could have stayed in his embrace forever because when he held her, the world fell away. Nothing else mattered, no one else existed.
All too soon, he pulled away and she looked up at him. He still looked like something was bothering him, but he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
It was gentle, a mere brush of affection, but Drew felt it to her toes.
“Let’s go,” he mouthed, his face still close to hers, and she nodded, ready.
Drew reluctantly released him and he dutifully grabbed the bag that held mementos she wanted to keep from her time in the hospital – get well cards from the local elementary school, sweet notes Jensen had left, the Kindle he’d surprised her with. It wasn’t much and Jensen carried it with ease, his free hand snaking around to rest at her lower back, guiding her out of the room. It felt good to shut the door – like she was closing a chapter of her life and moving on to a new one.
Several nurses and other hospital staff waved goodbye and smiled as she left; part of Drew was sad to leave them. They’d all been super nice to her, cared about her and took care of her the whole time she’d been there. She felt like they were pseudo-family, only realer than hers had become. The thought made her depressed and Jensen must have sensed it because he grazed a finger against her back, drawing her eyes to his.
“Don’t,” he mouthed, his eyes concerned but his face still pleasant. Drew was grateful for him – he kept her grounded and focused, something she desperately needed. She nodded that she was fine, and his smile grew as he continued leading them forward, out of the hospital and into the cold sunshine.
Chance was not a large town, neither in population nor physical land size. Add to that the fact Jensen didn’t live all that far from the hospital, and the drive took practically no time at all. Both were quiet as they pulled into his driveway and Drew took in his home.
It wasn’t a large house, smaller than her family’s, but even from the outside it was leaps and bounds more welcoming. It was quaint, with dark red brick making up the walls and white shutters around the door as a statement. An equally tiny lawn surrounded the home, and despite the cold weather, she could tell Jensen kept it up – the grass wasn’t lush, but still neatly trimmed. It was comforting, much unlike the mess her father had kept theirs since her mother died.
Jensen’s hand on her arm brought her attention to him, and she hated that she’d startled a little bit, lost in her survey of where he lived. If he saw it, he ignored it, which she was grateful for. Drew wasn’t afraid of the man beside her – he’d never given her any indication of violence or anger, quite the opposite, really, and seemed to take great care in being gentle with her.
“Ready to go in?” he asked, his fingers tracing lines on her arm. “I figured we could eat then maybe go out for a walk or something? If you’re up to it?”
Drew smiled in response, a myriad of emotions flicking through her. For some reason, she was nervous to go inside, she was excited. It was felt right to be with him, but she was out of her element – she’d holed herself up so long prior to being in the hospital, she wasn’t sure how to act not in the hospital. Her room had become sort of comforting, safe, with him in it. Memories tried to flood her mind, of her hiding in her room or the closet, the terror she’d feel when her father was home, but she wouldn’t let them.
Refusing to give in and crumble, Drew reached for the door handle and stepped out onto the concrete driveway. The air was cold through her dress, having refused Jensen’s jacket; she wasn’t acting stubborn, she’d merely missed it. Fresh air wasn’t something she’d had for months, and she wanted to experience it – the cold bite to her skin, the smell of the world around her changing, it was beautiful. The sun was warm where it shone on her face, but clouds were moving in quickly.
“Did it snow while I was…” she trailed off, looking to Jensen for an answer without finishing her question.
He shook his head. “Not yet. Supposed to for the new year, though.”
Drew nodded, watching as he came to take her hand and guided her up the small walkway. He opened the door, and she wasn’t surprised to find he hadn’t locked it when he left. Most people in Chance didn’t – there wasn’t much theft or breaking and entering when everyone knew each other.
Inside it smelled like a mixture of vanilla and pine, like Jensen. It immediately put Drew at ease as she looked around, smiling at how much his home resembled himself. There wasn’t a lot of furniture around, but what there was looked comfortable and masculine. A large leather recliner was positioned beside a matching leather loveseat, both angled to a flat-screen television. Along one wall was a good-sized bookcase, colorful spines mixed with trinkets and picture frames.
Curious, she got closer. There were pictures of a smiling family, young children, and some men in military uniforms who must be his friends. One showed a young boy, maybe eight or so, covered in flour with a mother. She was beaming at the boy, flour streaking her face and apron.
“Your mom?” she asked, not needing to turn to know he was behind her. She didn’t need him to wrap his arms around her, to nod his head against hers, for her to know the answer either. The woman smiling at her looked just like him.
Drew turned in his arms, placing her hands at his neck. “Is she..?”
He shook his head. “She and my pop live in Florida, soaking the sun in retirement.”
Being unable to hear had taught her a lot, and one of the things she’d learned was how to read people. Drew could tell that talking about his parents made him uncomfortable, though she wasn’t sure why. Was it because of her? Because she was essentially an orphan now? True, the loss of her mother had been hard, but even now it seemed like a lifetime ago, an entirely different Drew ago. Her father was a completely different story – she didn’t mourn his death. If anything, she felt sorry for him, in a way. He’d let his grief tear him apart, taking it out on everyone around him, instead of embracing his family. It was something she’d talked to the therapist about; Drew still hated her father, was in no way sad he was gone, but she missed the man he’d once been. Her real father died the day her mother had; the man who she’d lived with, who she’d taken so much damage from, had been a stranger.
When Drew met Jensen’s gaze once more, she could tell he was studying her and she knew she was right. He felt bad on her behalf. That’s not going to do at all.
“Don’t,” she mouthed, mimicking him from earlier.
A smirk formed on his lips before he kissed her forehead and let her go, taking her hand and giving her a tour of the rest of the house. Drew found much of the same, except when she got to the bedroom. His bed had been made, with an elaborate purple and black bedspread, which seemed so out of place in the room she couldn’t help but laugh. One look told her he’d bought it for her, which warmed her and cracked her up at the same time. When she relayed to him that she would have been fine sleeping on the floor or the couch, he shook his head. Stubborn man.
The bathroom was right outside the bedroom, instead of being part of it, and was a fairly decent size, almost the same as the bedroom. It had a stand-up, glass-walled shower, as well as a large tub, a counter with his or hers sinks, and a large mirror along the wall in front of it. Lotions and scrubs, a hair dryer, brushes and combs, even a flat iron, rested on the far counter by the sink and Drew turned to Jensen, an eyebrow raised.
He merely shrugged and signed food, leaving her in the bathroom. Fingering the bottles, she couldn’t help but grin. There were enough beauty items for ten women, let alone her, but it meant a lot that he’d go out of his way to get them. Amazing, really. She hadn’t been given a gift, with the exception from her brother, in forever. All the attention and sweet things Jensen was doing for her was overwhelming.
Drew wanted to believe that there was something between them, something more than merely friendship. She knew, at least on her end, that there were real feelings – she’d even go out on a limb and say she was partly in love with him, if not completely. You’ve known him only a couple months, her subconscious pointed out, and she knew it was true. She had only known him since the incident, had liked him from the day she met him. Only … he was way more than she could have ever hoped for.
Everything Jensen did seemed to center around making her happy, or making her smile. While she was
in the hospital, he’d sit for hours discussing what the doctors had talked to her about, and asking for her opinions. He supported her every decision, even if it was not taking medication that was suggested for her. Never once did he make her feel like she was stupid or a child, quite the opposite. But she could never forget he was older than her, perhaps not even in just time, but in experience.
Chance was the only place Drew had ever been, with the exception of the occasional small vacations with her parents when she was younger, and the visit to the city with her mom. She knew nothing of real life, only the life she’d struggled to go through. Jensen, though, had seen war and death, true terror and heartache. When she’d asked about his time in Afghanistan, he’d told her some stories, making light of it all, but she’d seen the pain in his eyes. He’d lost friends who were like brothers, yet still managed to live his life.
The small voice in the back of her head constantly wondered what was really going on between them. There were moments, like today, with small kisses and touches, that screamed relationship, screamed more than friendship. Then there were times he’d tease her, tickle her, give her a hard time – acting more like best buds than anything more. Drew just didn’t have the experience to know any of the answers that ran on constant repeat in her mind.
Drew left to meet Jensen in the kitchen, where he was busy stirring at the stove. Sitting on one of the bar seats, she watched him as he moved, admiring him. He wasn’t an overly large man, but his presence seemed to fill any room he was in, making it feel … safe.