by Helen Lacey
She turned, tears welling at the corner of her eyes, and then fled.
Chapter Eight
Jonah sat in the gazebo for close to an hour. He finished the wine, packed up the dishes and the barely touched food, and headed back to his apartment. What was supposed to have been an evening to remember was now one he desperately wanted to forget. He followed that with thirty minutes of staring at the blank computer screen, trying to decide if he really wanted to know everything there was to know about Connie.
In the end, he realized he did.
And it didn’t take long.
Tabloid headlines. A violent assault. Names suppressed. Three high school seniors.
A fifteen-year-old girl.
By the time he finished reading, he was sick to his stomach.
She’d been found on the roadside after escaping her attackers. Beaten. Raped. Barely conscious.
And then the sickness abated and rage, unlike any he had ever known, filled his blood. His fists clenched instinctively and he paced around his apartment, using up his energy, trying to get his breathing under control, glancing every now and then at the damning computer screen, hating everything it represented.
Slowly the rage in his heart subsided and helplessness emerged, forcing him to sit down. Memories bombarded his thoughts, and every harsh thing he’d said to her rose up and settled into his chest with an aching, relentless shame. His eyes stung and he cursed the whole damned world for allowing it to happen to her.
He wanted to call her, to see her, to hold her in his arms and tell her no one would ever hurt her again. But he knew she wouldn’t allow that. Connie was proud and strong and obviously resilient.
And he wanted her.
In his heart, deep in that place he let no one enter, Jonah suspected he always would.
Despite his inner voice telling him to call her and apologize for being an unmitigated idiot, he held off contacting her until the following morning. He sent her a text message at nine o’clock.
Can I see you today?
He waited for a reply, staring at his cell phone for close to fifteen minutes before it beeped with a message.
I’m at home making Thanksgiving cookies.
He texted back immediately.
I like cookies.
More waiting. But the next message had a smiling emoji attached to it.
I thought you might.
Jonah smiled, feeling about sixteen years old. Whatever was going on between them, he knew he didn’t want it to be over.
See you soon.
He didn’t get a reply. Instead, he waited an appropriate twenty minutes and then headed to her place. The dogs were by the fence to greet him when he arrived, barking madly before she appeared by the front door and opened the screen, dressed in jeans and a bright pink shirt, with a chef’s apron wrapped around herself. Her hair was in a ponytail and she had fur-lined moccasins on her feet. And she had a wooden spoon in her hand.
The dogs stopped barking and he let himself into the yard. They scurried around him for a few moments before quickly losing interest. Jonah reached the bottom of the steps and looked up, meeting her gaze, feeling the connection hum between them.
“Can we talk?” he asked simply.
She nodded. “Come inside.”
She didn’t bother to wait for him and he quickly followed, closing the door and smiling as the dogs scampered around his legs to get in before him. He headed down the hall and into the kitchen and saw she had baking sheets lined up on the counter and several mixing bowls scattered around as well.
“Looks like quite the production line.”
She smiled lightly. “I make cookies for the residents at the veterans’ home near the hospital.”
His admiration spiked. She was, he realized, damned near perfect. Jonah moved around the counter and held his palms out. “What can I do to help?”
She shimmied sideways. “Mix this,” she instructed and passed him a spatula and a bowl filled with an array of ingredients.
He began mixing and took a heavy breath. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Connie.”
Her hand stilled for a second before she got back to her task. “You saw the reports?”
“Some,” he replied. “But I’d like to hear it from you, if you’re prepared to talk about it.”
“I’m not,” she said quietly. “I mean, I haven’t talked about it since it happened, not really. But I will,” she said and glanced sideways. “For you.”
Jonah realized he’d been holding his breath, and he exhaled. “Thank you.”
Twenty minutes later the cookies were in the oven, the trays cleared away and she had made coffee for him and tea for herself. He waited by the table while she completed the tasks, noticing everything about her. Like how she bit her top lip when she was thinking. Or how she had the most incredibly long lashes that fanned her cheeks when her eyes fluttered downward.
She sat at the table and he joined her. Her hands were clenched; she twisted them nervously and he longed to reach out and touch her. But he held back, waiting for her to speak. And finally, after several agonizing minutes, she did.
“I was fifteen,” she said and shrugged. “A book nerd. I wanted to be a veterinarian and save all the animals. And one day I stayed late after math class and decided to take a shortcut home across the football field. There’d been a game that day, with another school out of state. Our school had won, and I didn’t know that some of the players from the other school had been drinking under the bleachers.” She stopped, took a breath, seemed to take strength from the air in her lungs and then continued. “Before that day I was naive, you know. I knew about sex, but only from books and what I heard other girls talking about at lunchtime or when they’d gossip about boys they liked in the girls’ bathroom. I’d never even been kissed.”
She hesitated again. “The odd thing was, I knew, even before they grabbed me, that something bad was going to happen. They had a look in their eyes...and it wasn’t because they were drunk and out of control...this was something else. Like they’d been waiting for someone...anyone to come along. And that someone was me. I tried to fight...but they were strong and older and I didn’t have any way of stopping them.”
She took a breath, this one a shudder, and it made him ache inside.
“It’s strange, but it was as though I had this feeling of disconnect through the whole thing. I can remember them ripping my clothes off. I can remember being naked and them being on top of me. Of feeling suffocated. Of being out of control. Of being powerless. But my mind went somewhere else... I had to... I think that was for the sake of my sanity. I remember thinking I was going to die on that field, beneath those bleachers, and that I’d never see my grandparents again, I’d never go to college, I’d never fall in love or get married or have children. And thinking about all the things I would never do made me determined not to die. I screamed and I screamed, but they put their hands on my mouth, and one of them put his hands around my neck and started squeezing.”
There were tears in her eyes, and Jonah felt the backs of his eyes burn. But he blinked them away, determined to be strong for her. “Go on,” he prompted gently.
“And from someplace, some faraway place in my mind, I knew I had to find the strength to get away. I kneed one of them, and I scratched and I kicked and I did everything I could to get them off me...and it worked. I had a chance—I found myself on my knees and then my feet and suddenly I was running. I was running so hard and didn’t even feel the ground, even when the grass turned to gravel. They were drunk, so I guess they didn’t bother coming after me. By the time I got to the road, I was hurting everywhere. And then I collapsed and passed out.” She took another long breath. “I remember hearing a car. I remember feeling the vibration on the road. I remember voices. Male voices. And I remember thinking they’d come after me anyway, that they’d found m
e. This voice started speaking to me, telling me I was safe, that I was going to be okay. And I heard another voice...younger...but gentle. And then I felt a blanket around me...it was scratchy and made my nose itch. And then I was in a car and the rest is hazy.
“There was the hospital,” she said and sipped her tea, her hands shaking so much Jonah reached out to steady her. At his touch she flinched, then relaxed. “The police came and asked me questions. They took swabs and did tests and gave me medication so I wouldn’t get pregnant.” Her voice cracked. “My grandparents came... I could hear them crying in the corridor. I was pretty badly beaten up, so I couldn’t really talk properly for the first few days.”
Jonah’s chest was so tight he could barely breathe. “And the...individuals responsible?”
“The police found them,” she replied. “They were arrested and charged. The trial was held in another county to protect me from the media, and my name was never publicly released. But of course everyone in the town knew it was me... I couldn’t go back to school... I couldn’t walk around and see the pity and the ridicule. Kids can be cruel. So I left. I did homeschooling, got my degree and then went to work at the hotel. I did college online, too. I could have gone somewhere, but...I just didn’t think I could cope with the campus and the football field and the corridors,” she said, and he could see the admission cost her. “If that makes sense.”
Jonah took the cup from her and then grasped her hands, holding them tightly within his own. “It does. Tell me about the two men who found you?”
“Can’t you guess?” she said and managed a tiny smile.
Realization hit him. “J.D. and Liam.”
She nodded and fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “They saved me. They protected me. They were there every day at the trial. Your dad made sure I didn’t have to face them in court. He spoke on my behalf. And the prosecutor called them both as witnesses.”
“There was a conviction?”
“Twenty-five years, not eligible for parole for the first eighteen.” She sighed, clearly exhausted. “It was considered to be a particularly brutal attack, and because of my age they were sentenced accordingly.”
Jonah had no words. No offer of comfort came out. He simply held her hands, rubbing his thumb gently over hers. He felt rage, anger, sorrow, compassion, and he hurt in places he hadn’t known could hurt.
“I’m glad J.D. and Liam were there for you,” he offered quietly.
“Me, too,” she said. “Now do you understand why they mean so much to me?”
He nodded. “Completely.”
“And that night in your hotel room,” she said. “Do you understand that as well?”
Jonah nodded, continuing to stroke her hand. “Have you been with anyone since that... Since you were...”
“Raped?” She smiled ruefully. “You can say the word, it won’t kill you. Or me.”
“I know,” he said and shrugged. “It’s just difficult to compartmentalize without wanting to do permanent physical damage to the individuals responsible.”
She smiled and it reached her eyes. “That’s just your protective instincts going into overdrive. The thing is, Jonah, I had to learn to forgive them, so I could move on with my life. And I thought I had, until I met you.” She stopped, stalled and took a long breath. “No... I haven’t. That’s the answer to your question. I’ve tried. I’ve dated. I’ve allowed myself to feel desire. But something always gets in the way. Fear,” she admitted. “Fear of being out of control. Of being suffocated...which is irrational, I know, since the men I’ve dated have all been very nice and nonthreatening. I’ve talked to a therapist, and in the end it was clear to me that all I had to do was wait for the right person. That night, with you, that’s the closest I’ve ever been to making love with someone. And yet, I still panicked... I still couldn’t go through with it.” The oven timer buzzed and she got up, wrapping her arms around herself. When she got to the other side of the counter she looked at him. “Does knowing this about me make you want to run a mile?”
“Not at all.”
“Then you’re a brave man,” she said with a brittle laugh. “The thing is, I want to have a normal life—one that includes sex,” she said bluntly.
Jonah stared at her, confused by the intensity of his own feelings. This was a crossroads for both of them. He could leave before they got too involved, before desire and chemistry turned into something more. Especially now that things were even more complicated.
The thing was, the idea of leaving her, of not seeing her again, made him physically ache inside.
He got to his feet and moved to the other side of the counter. “How about we park this whole...sex thing...and just hang out today.”
Her brows rose dramatically. “Just hang out?”
He nodded. “Although I would like a cookie.”
She laughed and the sound touched his heart in a way he wasn’t used to. All the emotional barriers he’d erected were slowly crumbling because of Connie.
For the first time in his life, Jonah was faced with a startling reality: he was genuinely interested in getting to know a woman and not just circumnavigating the quickest route to her bed. He wanted to spend the day getting to know her. He wanted to know her favorite color. Her favorite food. What movies she enjoyed. What songs made her cry. If she liked rainy days. Or snowball fights. Anything. Everything. He wanted all of her. Which meant he was heading for major heart trouble.
* * *
Connie couldn’t recall ever having a lovelier day. They stayed indoors for the most part, except for the half an hour they took taking the dogs to the park. She made an early lunch, which they ate in front of the television, and then they played Scrabble for a lazy hour or so, only to discover than Jonah knew way more complicated words than she did. She talked through her plans to renovate the old house room by room and listened to his suggestions about adding a bathroom to the master suite. She baked a little more in the afternoon, and by three they were on the couch and she was resting in the crook of his arm.
“This is nice,” she said easily, curling her legs up.
“Want to make out for a while?”
Connie touched his chin and the tiny cleft there. “I thought sex was parked for the day.”
He chuckled. “Making out is not sex, Connie. It’s—” he ran a hand around her nape and drew her closer “—a kiss. Or two.”
His mouth touched hers. “Or three.”
True to his word, he didn’t touch her below the shoulders. They kissed, gently at first, then slowly with more heat. Connie relaxed and pressed against him, knowing he was half-aroused, but also knowing he would never take more that she was prepared to give. If she had any doubts that she was halfway in love with him, they disappeared that chilly afternoon.
“By the way,” he said, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Mom is expecting you for Thanksgiving this week.”
Connie pressed closer. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m heading back to Portland in the morning,” he reminded her.
She sighed. “I know. Don’t forget you have to see you dad before you go. And promise me you won’t argue with him.”
He didn’t make his usual scowling face at the term, which it made her happy inside. “I know and I promise. But I’ll be back Wednesday afternoon.”
“I guess I’m going to have to get used to this long-distance thing.”
He nodded. “For now.”
She craned her neck around. “Does that mean you might not always live in Portland?”
He shrugged. “My life is there. My work. My friends,” he said and exhaled heavily. “But my mom is here...and you’re here...that’s quite an incentive to think about moving.”
“Kathleen would like that.”
He grasped her chin. “What about you?”
“Oh,” she teased and d
rew his mouth closer. “I’m sure I could learn to cope.”
He didn’t leave until eight o’clock, and he did so with a lingering kiss under the porch light. Connie was desperately unhappy the moment his taillights faded in the distance, but she knew it was wise to let him go home. She’d been tempted to ask him to stay, but it had been an emotional day and she needed time to separate her feelings of gratitude and friendship from her growing sexual desire. And she would.
Making love with Jonah was inevitable. She knew that. She wanted it to happen.
But until then, she had things she needed to do. The hotel was fully booked up until the end of January, and Connie needed to be at her sharpest over the holiday season. Liam looked to her for extra support during the busier times, and she would never want to disappoint him.
She arrived at work early on Monday morning, thinking about Jonah and his meeting with his father, and sent Jonah a supportive text. He responded with a smiley face emoji with a kiss attached, and she was still smiling like a schoolgirl when Liam arrived a little after eight thirty.
“You look happy,” he remarked and placed an envelope on her desk. “No doubt that’s got something to do with my annoying little brother.”
She shrugged and grinned. “Maybe. What’s this?” She asked and picked up the envelope. “It’s too early for a Christmas bonus.”
“Take a look.”
Connie opened envelope, scanned the letter inside and then stared at her boss in shock.
“Are you serious?”
“Perfectly.”
“Assistant manager? Me?”
Liam nodded. “You deserve it, Connie. I need to step back a bit now that Kayla and Jack are part of my life, and there’s no one I trust more with the hotel than you.”
