Page 28 of A Dark Fall
Even though I have no intention of following through with it, I go toward the phone on the table next to where Sam’s sunflowers are. He’s closer to it though, and quicker than me all around. He reaches down to lift it from its cradle before I’m anywhere close.
Maybe I’m being utterly naïve in not being afraid of him. I think about all I know of the man in front of me—which, granted, isn’t much. But from what I know and what I’ve seen of him, do I think he would hurt me? He certainly has a temper, and his threatening behavior toward Matt last week wasn’t for effect, which makes him potentially violent.But he could have hurt me the night at the surgery and he didn’t, and he’s known where I live for weeks now and hasn’t been near me.
The thought is clear and sharp in my head: He isn’t going to hurt me. Not physically anyway.
I still startle like a cat when he moves. He doesn’t go toward the door to leave. Instead, he moves toward my floral armchair and sits down, keeping his eyes firmly on me as he does. His eyes are softer now. Not as dark, nor as angry.Okay, perhaps still a little angry and a little dark, but they’re not seething with rage like they were when I first opened the door to him.
The sight of him there in my armchair is so incongruous I almost want to laugh. His muscular, ferocious form sitting in my Laura Ashley armchair isn’t an image I ever thought I’d see. I don’t laugh though. I don’t think he’d appreciate the joke.
I feel utterly sober, as though the four pints of strong cider with Sam never happened. Except they did. And that’s the problem here.
When I take a few steps toward the sofa, that strange current that sparks between us seems to intensify, the heat and crackle more obvious the closer I get to him. I wonder if he feels it. He settles forward, elbows on his thighs, and puts the telephone on the floor between his feet. When he runs a hand over his mouth and squeezes the bridge of his nose between his eyes hard, I wonder if he has a headache.He also looks tired, and that makes me wonder if he’s sleeping all right and whether he snores.
“I knew what would go through your head,” he starts. “Knew you were going to spend all week regretting saying yes and looking for a way out of it. I expected your text sooner though ...” He gives me a look, and I feel a burn of embarrassment flush over me. “Surprising you seemed to work well the other day, so I thought I’d give it another go, figured you’d either let me in or would be busy, so I had nothing to lose.” He shrugs and looks up at me, eyes startlingly soft. “And I wanted to see you.”
He wanted to see me, and I canceled on him for someone else. No—not canceled on him. Stood him up.
“I saw your car and the BMW, but all the lights were out, and I got ... I don’t know ... worried. I tried calling you, but your phone was off. So, I waited.” His eyes darken again.
Then he saw me giggling arm in arm with Sam, looking like a couple enjoying each other. I feel guilty and embarrassed again, so I look down at my hands, away from his eyes.
“So, you’re not fucking him, but you and him are—what? Together? You’re with him?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not with him. He’s a colleague. We work together.”
“So, you kiss all the guys you work with, or just him?” he asks, a sarcastic edge to his tone. “Work’s night out, was it? Spend the night talking about stitches and urine samples over dinner then?”
It was in fact stool samples, but I doubt it would be helpful to correct him right now. I decide to be sarcastic instead.
“Oh, and how about you? Slept with any of your barmaids recently? Or are they just overtly possessive of their boss?” I snipe. God, I sound jealous. He notices too, sitting up straighter and fixing me with a stare.
“Is there something you wanna ask me, Alex?” he asks quietly.
My breath catches in my throat at the intensity in his eyes. The unabashed directness. I swallow. Have you slept with your barmaid since the night in your office? Have you slept with anyone since the night in your office? Do you still think I’m amazingly beautiful and out of your league?There’s a long, heavy silence until finally, Jake shakes his head, letting out a loud sigh.
“So, you canceled on me for him. Seriously?” He sounds incredulous, like he can’t understand how that could ever possibly be the case.
“It wasn’t like that ...” I shake my head. “You blindsided me the other day. You appeared out of nowhere, and I momentarily forgot I had plans tonight.” Surely, he’s noticed how my being around him makes my brain turn to jelly. How I forget things such as breathing and sense.I certainly can’t diary manage effectively in his presence.
“But that’s not the total story, is it?” he asks, searching my face the way he often does. “You were gonna cancel on me anyway, weren’t you?”
Was I? If I didn’t have plans with Sam, would I have reached the same conclusion: that Jake Lawrence is not the sort of guy I should be messing around with?
I look down at my hands again. “I don’t know,” I tell him, because I honestly don’t. When I look back up, he’s worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth, still watching me closely.
He gives a small nod.
“But I should have let you know earlier in the week either way. I’m sorry for the short notice. It was rude of me.” It’s just, it took me longer than I thought to decide what kind of person I want to be for the rest of my life.
He frowns. “The short notice wasn’t the problem, Alex,” he says. “I’d still have been pissed off. I still am.”
“Oh, you’re pissed off? I never noticed.”
His mouth twitches with the hint of a smirk.
A long moment passes between us, lighter than before, but heavier with something new. I let it gain a bit more mass before I have the overwhelming need to fill it.
“You’re scary when you’re angry, you know?”Scary and sexy.