Page 66 of One More Chance

Jensen

It didn’t take longfor us to clear the food we ordered. After a day of travel and only a few airport snacks in our bellies, Harper and I finished our steaks, potatoes, and shrimp like champions. For as petite as that woman is, she can put away some food. Not that I’m at all complaining whatsoever. Quite the opposite, actually. If anything, I’d brag about it.

I watch her as she clears our empty takeout containers from the counter, wearing nothing but one of my white V-neck T-shirts. I know she’s not wearing any panties because I watched her dress in a hurry to come downstairs. I’d tossed the shirt at her when she was completely naked and she quickly threw it over her head, pulling her hair up in a cute little ponytail. But that’s it. So no. There are no panties under there. The T-shirt comes down past her ass cheeks a little, but I know if she were to, say, reach up into a high cabinet, things would begin to peak out. God, I’m such a perv.

Look, I know I just had her in the bathroom, but did you hear me? She’s wearing my white T-shirt and nothing else. Her slightly hardened nipples press against the thin fabric and I shift my weight from left to right, taking another sip of my whiskey. The warm liquid hits the back of my throat and I’m hoping, more than anything, it will calm me the hell down.

“Are you finished with this?” she asks, picking up the last container in front of me.

I nod, letting her take it, knowing it’s in her Southern nature to clean up after dinner, even though she doesn’t have to. I tried assuring her, reminding her that she’s the guest. It didn’t work. I figure why not let her be comfortable and do what makes her comfortable?

I go back to silently studying her. Harper’s graceful movements mesmerize me. I don’t know if she actually knows she’s graceful, but she is. Perhaps it’s just a natural state for her.

“Did you ever take dance lessons or anything?” I ask.

“No, why?”

“Just curious.” So, it is a natural state. I move toward her, taking her gently by the wrist, forcing her to drop the forks she has onto the counter.

Harper instinctively wraps her arms up around my neck and I know this means the T-shirt she’s wearing has ridden up.

I resist the urge to drop my hands low enough to take advantage and instead focus on her face. “Let’s go sit in front of the fireplace,” I suggest.

She nods, leaving the rest of the kitchen mess for morning.

I lead her by the hand to the couch, the fire still roaring low and steady from earlier.

I sit and Harper coils herself up in my lap, drawing her feet in. Her head rests just below mine, nestled partly on my shoulder and partly on my throat. I inhale against her hair, something floral and fresh filling my senses.

“Jensen?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you sing to me?” she asks.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Surprise me,” she says.

I lift her, then place her back into the corner and throw a small blanket over her legs so she isn’t chilly. Sure, the fire’s warm, but just in case. Retrieving my guitar, I sit on the couch near her feet, strumming and tuning it. “Have you ever heard of a band called Radio Company?”

Harper shakes her head. “No.”

“This is a song by them called Off My Mind.” I begin to sing the words as Harper’s eyes study my face and mouth. I don’t know why this song popped into my head. Or maybe I do and just didn’t realize it. As I sing the words, they feel too familiar, too true in some ways, anyway. I sing for her, to her, quietly, my voice echoing into the expanse of the empty loft. Always so empty.

As I finish and strum the last chords, Harper begins to clap and whistle as if I’ve just performed a miniature concert. “I think I could listen to you sing every day.”

“Well, I can sing for you every day,” I offer, realizing too late the weight of my words, what they mean.

We let the silence fall over us for a beat, and I store away the guitar while I find myself thinking a lot of things I shouldn’t. I think back to our sexy shower time, but not the parts I expect to be reminiscing about.

I settle back behind her, her body nestling into mine again. She spreads the blanket back over us and I’m thankful I don’t have to go into the office right away in the morning. All I want to do is lie here with her, hold her, have a little more of this.

“So, what are you going to do tomorrow when I go into work?” I ask, hopeful she’s excited and not regretting coming.

“I think I’m just going to take my camera out and explore. We’re close to downtown, right? I could walk?” she asks.

“Technically we are downtown,” I say. “And if you go a couple of blocks that way, you’ll be in the heart of the city. Museums, good places to eat, a nice park.”