by Claire Cain
He pulled back from the hug and I reluctantly let my grip loosen, then looked up at him. He was still holding me with one hand on each of my shoulders. His focus was on my face now, studying me and looking for something.
He said, “You’re an amazing woman.” He drew me close again and his lips fell to my cheek and pressed there, then he pulled away completely.
I looked at him, my heart hammering in my ribcage and my mind scrambling for something to say, but my lips wouldn’t part, wouldn’t form a word, and my voice wouldn’t speak. Then all I could come up with was, “I never got you a drink.”
“Next time.”
I nodded, feeling pleasure at his assumption we’d have a drink again—spend more time together.
“Goodnight, Elizabeth,” he said, giving me one last look as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and off he walked.
I stood there watching him, feeling the riot of emotions crashing through me. There was so much to think about, to tease through, to understand. He was thoughtful and wise and empathetic. He was honest. He was comforting to me. He was insightful and a little maddening in the way he pushed, but it was productive pushing.
I said things to him I’d never said aloud. I still felt upset, but I felt clear about what I wanted and what I needed to say to my parents, at some point.
After hours of emotional upheaval—first in elation and celebration, and then in sadness and disappointment—I felt calm. I felt peaceful. It wasn’t that he’d given me some new sense of self-worth or solved a big problem—no, it wasn’t that.
It was that he held up a mirror, demanded I see my reflection aright, and then made that seem like the best and most obvious thing in the world.
He didn’t shy away from asking me hard questions. He didn’t wince or seem embarrassed when I cried. He didn’t handle me like I was weak or frail for crying or being upset, but he didn’t fail to empathize or share part of himself too.
Oh, dear.
Chapter Ten
On Wednesday of that week, I got an email from the grant officer for the non-profit, Operation Achieve, who’d provided the largest part of the funding for the project and who I’d submitted my application to more than a month ago. It wasn’t exactly bad news, but it set off my alarm bells.
I called her immediately for clarification.
“Ms. Dunham, does this request for more information indicate an area of concern for the board?” I slowly blew out a breath and sat rigid in my chair.
“Absolutely not, Dr. Kent. We’re sifting through everything now, still in the preliminary stages since we’re not convening for another little while, and a few members had questions about the future of the project and the expansion you suggested. I thought I’d request more information so everyone can see what you have planned, and that way we have as much information as possible. Nothing to be concerned about.” Her voice was soothing. I believed her, and it did make sense.
“I understand. Can I submit this to you by the end of the day?”
“Yes. No rush as we’ve got another week or so before we meet.”
“Ok, thank you for your time.” I hung up and got to work outlining in full detail the ways I would expand the project. I knew the results from the Fort Campbell study were fascinating, and there were more soldiers arriving every day, so I could easily expand within this post and grow the numbers. There were so many Army bases, I could easily expand the data beyond this one, and it would gain steam and attention, and maybe even help change policy or availability for higher education for active duty soldiers at a larger level. At the very least, it would get my little project more attention and hopefully lead to commanding officers encouraging soldiers to get into college courses now rather than later.
By Friday afternoon, I had written out a full, detailed proposal for the project expansion detailing how the funding would be allocated if granted and my anticipated results based on the first round I’d just completed. It was four in the afternoon and I was ready to leave. Most of the government employees got to leave at three on Fridays. I wasn’t beholden to any specific office hours since I wasn’t an hourly employee and my work was done, but I was having a hard time finding the will to move myself and go through the motions of getting home.
Once I shook off the lethargy and general malaise that came from sitting for an entire day even when it was gorgeous and springy outside and calling to me, I shut down my computer, gathered my purse and keys, and left. There were a few stragglers left in the building who’d lock up, including Erin, who didn’t have the luxury of being a government employee and had to stay until closing. I stopped by her desk to say goodbye.
“Any big plans this weekend?” she asked, tossing her red hair over her shoulder, beaming at me. This girl was always smiling—always. She seemed almost too sweet, except every interaction we’d had was completely genuine.
“No, not really. I’m ready to relax and… not be staring at a computer screen.” I rubbed my temples for a second, willing away the headache that had crept in over the afternoon. “You?”
“Me? Oh… no. No… no plans. Just… hanging out,” she said, and I noticed her pale cheeks were now a cherry red color. Hmm. Ok. So… she did have plans but wasn’t going to tell me about them. She didn’t owe me anything, and it was adorable that she showed her hand so easily.
“Well sometimes that’s nice. Cheers to an uneventful weekend, then. Have a good one,” I said as I gave her a wave and wandered to my car. As I tossed my purse in and took off my blazer, Jake’s Jeep pulled up, and Henry hung out the driver’s side window.
“Henry!” I said and walked up to the car.
“If it isn’t Dr. Kent herself,” he said and graced me with one of his mega-watt smiles. I ignored the little drop of disappointment in my stomach when I saw Jake wasn’t with him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m a free bird! I graduated Tuesday, and here I am. Will drove me back with him after the ceremony and I’ll fly home. I’m staying with him for a few days before I head back south and start an internship.” He smiled again, clearly proud of these latest developments.
“Congratulations! I was thinking that was next week. I’m sorry I lost track of time or I would have sent you a message. And congrats on the internship.”
“Thank you. Well listen, come to Jake’s tonight. You don’t have plans, do you?”
“Actually, I—”
“Just come. It’s a little barbeque for me. Well, it’s Cinco de Mayo but in my honor.” He fluttered his lashes at me and then smiled the smile again.
“Oh, good grief. Of course I’ll come. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good. Seven o’clock at Jake’s. Bring yourself and a list of compliments and praises to throw at my feet upon seeing me.” He winked and off he sped. I watched as he braked completely at the stop sign, then drove away. Even though he seemed wild, he was carefully obeying the signs and speed limits—clearly he was used to the strict rules of driving on a military base, just as I’d expect from a kid who grew up on military bases.
I didn’t like feeling nervous. Why was I nervous?
I told myself the party was a fun celebration of Henry, which it was. But I hadn’t seen Jake since he comforted me after the call with my parents, and while that shouldn’t make things awkward, in my mind, it did. Or it was because he’d caressed my lip in the rain and tenderly touched my hair.
Or, it was because I’d realized something.
I was a little bit maybe sort of falling for Jake Harrison. I wasn’t sure to what degree because I hadn’t ever had a relationship like this one. Or really, a non-relationship. Maybe friendship was a better title, sure. Whatever the case, I was hiking on an unmarked trail.
By the time I got home from work, went for a run, and got cleaned up, it was nearly seven. I put on jeans at first, but then felt like that was too casual. I couldn’t tell what level of fance the occasion called for. So instead I found a ¾ sleeve striped t-shirt dress. The ma
terial was thick enough so it didn’t cling to me. It was more fitted at the top but had straight lines so it hung comfortably by my hips instead of making me feel shrink-wrapped and on display. I didn’t want to seem like I was trying too hard. This was a friend’s dinner at his brother’s house, who also happened to be my friend.
My thoughtful, intelligent, unnervingly appealing friend who, I’d discovered during our hug last weekend, smelled like clean laundry with a little twang of soap and mint, and it was also… well… appealing. And whose defined, strong arms and muscular chest happened to be, well let’s be honest about it, appealing, too.
Did I mention we were just friends?
Since I’d washed my hair after my run, I left it down and curled at the bottom. I also wore a little make up. I had good skin, but a little something to smooth things out, some mascara to make my eyelashes bright behind my glasses since I couldn’t face contacts after a long day at the computer, and some lip gloss, and voila. At 7:05 I walked to Jake’s with my key in my pocket.
My body was racing with anticipation at seeing Jake. There was little I could do except keep walking toward his apartment, take calming breaths, and remind myself he was my friend. It felt like something had shifted, and he was more… friendly?
Ugh.
I could see a small group of people spilling off the patio and onto the grass at Jake’s. I saw Henry throw his head back and laugh and then pat his friend repeatedly on the back. I caught his eye as I approached.
“So glad you could come,” he said and pulled me in for a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dancing—this guy was fun in a bucket.
“So glad to be here to celebrate your amazing accomplishment. You are truly astounding, and we’re all lucky to be here in your presence,” I said in a robotic voice and then laughed at his delighted face. “Was that appropriate praise for you?”
“Perfect. But keep it coming. Jake stepped inside—I’m sure he could use your help,” he said and then turned his attention to someone who called his name a few feet away.
I introduced myself to a few people on the way to the apartment. The sliding door was open about two feet and a screen door was shut to keep the spring bugs and gnats out. I slid open the screen, stepped in, and closed it behind me.
I could still hear the mariachi music behind me, but the atmosphere inside was totally different. The living room held a comfortable looking tan couch, a dark leather chair, a large TV, and a round, wood dining table and four chairs in the designated eating nook. His layout was exactly the same as mine, just switched around a little. I was surprised to note there wasn’t a single bookshelf in the room. That was extremely disappointing because I’d thought I might get to check out his collection. No such luck.
I could see him through the kitchen doorway. He was piling up a platter, cutting board, tongs, and a few other things in one arm and held a case of Corona Extra in his other.
“Can I help you?” I asked and walked to him with arms outstretched, ready to take something from the pile in his hands.
“Hi, yeah, grab that,” he said, nodding with his chin to a pitcher of what I assumed was margaritas.
I followed him back out the door and set the pitcher on the table next to the cups and the case of beer he put down. He set a bag of chips in a bowl and then carried the cutting board and tongs to the little area next to the grill. While he lifted the grill cover and pulled off a big slab of flank steak, then gave a grill basket full of vegetables a toss, I emptied the bag of chips into the bowl. He closed the grill’s lid, left the tongs, and moved back to the door, then said, “Come with me,” over his shoulder, and of course, I followed.
I slid the screen door shut and crossed over to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. He set the large wood cutting board down and grabbed a knife from the block next to his stove. Putting the knife down, he rinsed his hands and then turned his attention to me. He walked to me—so fast I jumped because he’d been so focused on his mission with the meat I didn’t expect him to talk to me until he’d finished slicing it. But before I could step back, he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight. He lowered his head so he curved around me and enveloped me, and I hugged him back. As he let go, his lips grazed my cheek lightly and my stomach fluttered as I felt his smooth cheek and jaw press against my own for a moment. He smelled like fresh laundry and smoky like the grill.
“Glad you came,” he said, his lips turned up at the edges just a little.
“Me too,” I said and smiled back at him.
He stood there with one hand on my upper arm, looking at me. Just as I was starting to get unnerved, he said, “Better carve this meat and get it out there.” He walked back to the board and started slicing.
“How was your week?” I asked and then immediately felt awkward about it. We hadn’t had much casual conversation lately—or ever. We always ended up diving right into the middle, into moments that had already started—never at the beginning.
“It was pretty good. Busy since we’re prepping for NTC in a few months, but generally good,” he said, glancing up at me here and there as he sliced. It felt good and normal and the clinched fist that was my insides relaxed a bit.
“Who is everyone out there? Your friends? Or Henry’s?”
“Henry’s. He has a few friends who drove up from Nashville and then one who’s crashing on the couch tonight,” he said, widening his eyes a little.
“Ah, good luck with that.”
“Yeah, I’ll take it,” he said and then put the meat onto a large plate. He grabbed tortillas and a few small bowls and handed me several toppings and some cheese. “Ok, back out we go,” he said and gestured to me with his free hand.
We set up the food and people immediately crowded around the table where the fajitas and tacos awaited them. The spread looked impressive, especially considering it was two bachelors hosting, but I supposed that was selling them short. I was learning there was very little Jake Harrison didn’t do well.
He handed me a red solo cup with a margarita in it complete with a little lime garnish on the side and ushered me over to the edge of the patio just out of reach of the grill’s smoke.
“I’m impressed,” I said, taking a drink from the cup. Delicious.
“This is all Grandma. She bossed us around, even from Florida. She loves to entertain and always threw elaborate birthday parties for us. She was probably compensating for… everything.” He gave me a quick look. “But she insisted we not throw out bags of chips and jarred salsa. Plus, Henry likes to be celebrated, as you can tell.” Just then we heard Henry’s loud laugh and watched as he toasted two friends with a rolled-up tortilla in one hand.
“He seems like he’s always the life of the party.”
“Yes. He’s my opposite in that regard,” he said. I saw a little flicker of something cross his face.
“How so?” I asked, even though I knew very well Henry and Jake were very different.
He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Well, introverts aren’t usually the life of the party.”
“No… no, you’re not. But that’s ok,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. He was joking, but I felt the need to make sure he knew I didn’t mind that he was quiet. In fact, a big part of me admired it.
“Yeah. We do better one on one,” he said, and then glanced down at my lips and back into my eyes.
My stomach flipped at that, and I felt my pulse race. All this guy had to do was look at me the wrong (right?) way and I was a little hurricane of excitement.
“You do seem more willing to part with your words when there’s not a crowd,” I said and looked at the grill, back at Henry, over to the food table—anywhere but back at him because looking at him when he was looking at me like that was going to lead to my bursting into flames.
We stood there a minute, and I could feel his eyes on me, his typically focused energy affecting me no less than it usually did despite my efforts to ignore it.
“Let’s get some food,” he said, and then placed a hand on the small of my back to guide me to the table a whopping ten feet away.
My mind focused on his hand resting on my back, warm and confident and unaware of its culpability when it came to my impending heart attack. It was a completely normal gesture, and one he’d done before, but that contact made me feel tingly and aware.
We sat and ate near each other, chatting companionably.
Yes. It was comfortable, companionable. I supposed it wasn’t a stretch to say that, but I tried to silence the part of my mind that was analyzing everything he did or said. Shut up! You are boring, Analytical Brain Ellie! Enjoy the moment!
“So, I’ll admit I’m surprised to see you don’t have any bookshelves in your living room,” I said, trying to shake off the over-analysis currently raging in my inner monologue.
“Ah, yeah. They’re all in my bedroom,” he said, and his eyes drilled into mine for a second before they cut back to his food and he took his last bite.
“Oh… cool,” I said and focused on the seam of concrete on his patio that ran between my legs. I looked at a little weed sprouting up between the slabs of white. I tried not to obsess about the fact that now I had multiple reasons for wanting to see the inside of his bedroom and how one hundred thousand million percent unacceptable that thought was.
Just then Jake got pulled away by someone asking him a question. He stood and grabbed my now-empty plate and gave me a little grin as he walked away. Could he read my mind? Did he somehow know my first thought after he said that was Is that an invitation? Did he know how uncharacteristic my responses were to him—is that why he enjoyed it?
I was flustered. My fingers fluttered restlessly on my thighs and my foot jumped up and down to its own beat as I again looked anywhere but at Jake, who was standing a few feet away.
“So, you and my big, strapping brother, huh?” Henry said as he plopped down into the seat next to me.
“Uhh…” I gave Henry a look.
