Page 80 of The Keeper and I
“Of course.”
“Do you have somewhere else to stay?”
“She’ll stay with me,” Jordan said firmly, discovery of his studio be damned. He had to keep her safe.
“Very well,” the officer said. “I suggest you pack for several weeks. Don’t return to this home alone if you have to come back.”
“But I—”
“We’ll let you know if we find anything.”
He walked off, pulling on gloves, as he bent to pick up Dane’s abandoned coat on the floor. Laci looked up at Jordan with watery eyes.
“Oh my God,” she whimpered, and buried her face in his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “It’ll be alright.”
“What if it doesn’t stop?” she sobbed. “What if he keeps following me? Even to America?”
He blinked. He’d almost forgotten the whole reason Laci suggested a fake relationship was because there was an expiration date. With everything going on, it had slipped his mind. His chest grew painfully tight at the thought of her being so far away and outside of his protection. The job she had there was on an indefinite timeline. He had no idea when she would be back or what it meant for them now that things were no longer pretend.
“He won’t,” he said with a shake of his head. His feelings weren’t important right now. “You don’t leave for months. They’ll catch him before then.”
“What if they don’t? Nothing’s guaranteed, and he’s not giving up. What are we going to do?”
Her use ofwegave him some comfort. She was still thinking of them together.
“The what ifs will drive you mad,” he said. “You’re safe, angel. That’s what we should focus on. We’ll get you to my flat and get you settled in. It’ll be alright.”
She looked up to meet his gaze. “Thank heaven for you, Jordan.”
She stood on her toes, and he bent at the waist to meet her for a kiss.
Jordan got Laci away from her house as the news crews were arriving. It hadn’t taken her long to pack what she needed. His main concern was what she might think of his place. It was a mere two-bedroom flat as opposed to her three-bedroom house. Plus, there was the issue of his studio.
He’d converted the second bedroom into his ideal workspace when he moved in. Inside, there were paintings of Laci everywhere. He wasn’t ready for her to see them, so he was thinking of ways to get her to his room without her seeing.
“Don’t worry if your place isn’t tidy,” she said. “You haven’t been there in a while.”
“I’ve kept it up alright,” he replied.
Truthfully, he’d hired a cleaning lady to go in once a week to straighten up and do basic maintenance. He’d only been back to grab things he needed every once in a while. Hell, these days he was even doing his laundry at Laci’s.
“Still,” she said. “All I want is to have a shower and go to bed. I won’t be snooping around.”
He reached over and took her hand.
When they arrived, Jordan led Laci to the bathroom off the master, gave her a towel, and left her to it. He went into his studio, prepared to lock the door and join Laci in the shower, but he found himself rooted to the spot in front of his latest work: Laci in Blue.
It wasn’t quite finished. He reached out and touched it, fingers following the paint strokes. The familiar urge to create made his hands twitch. Unable to resist, he picked up his pencil and sketchbook. Maybe he could do something quick and get it out of his system before Laci was done.
The moment he put the pencil to paper, he heard a soft sob from the other bedroom. He put everything down, locked the door, and went to Laci.
She sat on the bed in his hoodie and her shorts as damp hair hung around her face, which was wet with tears. Her eyes found him when he appeared in the doorway, but she made no effort to hide her emotion. She hugged herself.
“I’m so sorry, Jordan.” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this…thismess. I’ve put you in danger, and now I’ve invaded your home, and—”
“Hey,” he said, kneeling in front of her so he could cup her face in his hands and wipe the tears away. “I’m not sorry for any of it.”