I curl into him and sigh, crushing his shirt in my hands. I lean up and nuzzle the side of his cheek. He turns to me and his lips find mine, clinging to them softly, gently. Oh so gently. Just the barest touch. But it burns my soul like fiery embers flaring up between us.
My lips barely move and he pulls back. “Not right now, little one. Not like this.”
But he doesn’t stand up and drop me to the ground. He just runs his big hand up and down my back until I settle and my tears finally dry up.
Then he stands up and slowly slides me down his body. His hands reach up and cup my cheeks and he stares deep into my troubled, swollen eyes.
“Thank you for telling me, Charity. You’re a strong damn woman. So much stronger than you give yourself credit for. A lot of people would never have been able to come back from a loss like that. But you found a purpose at that soup kitchen. Something to fill up your days until you were ready to find love again.”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for that.”
“We’ll see. For now, why don’t I walk you back home. I don’t think you should go today.”
I run my hands through my hair and flinch. “I suppose I look really bad.”
His lips tilt up and he just shakes his head. “There’s no damn way you could ever look bad. Just not possible.”
I snort and punch his arm, feeling relief wash over me. He doesn’t hate me.
“I think you’re not telling me the truth, Jameson.”
“I would never lie to you. You’re achingly beautiful even awash in tears.”
I flush and bite my lip. “Anyone ever tell you you’re damn smooth?”
He throws his arm around me. “Nope. Just you.”
“I guess that means I know you better than they do.”
He smirks and his hand caresses my jaw. “Absolutely true, princess.” And he walks me home, never letting me leave his side. My body burns and aches furiously but I push it down, enjoying the relief and joy in knowing that someone knows my secret and they don’t blame me.
He thinks I’m worth something. He thinks it even when I don’t.
CHAPTER6
Jameson
Weeks go by and I spend every second with Charity that I can. I love to see her starting to smile. Her golden-brown eyes sparkling with laughter when I tell her a joke or a funny story about the shop. She’s even started spending time there, grimacing when she sees the state of my records.
“Who the heck does your record-keeping, Jameson? These files are a mess!”
“Umm. Yeah. I’m not really good at that kind of stuff and the last girl I hired quit about six months ago.”
“And you couldn’t hire anyone else?”
“Believe it or not, people around here aren’t exactly beating my door down to work in a garage.”
“You’ve got plenty of guys that work for you,” she snorts. Her brown eyes widen and she grumbles. “Couldn’t you get a guy to take care of this if you didn’t want a woman to take the job?”
“I tried both.”
“Well, I’m not great at this kind of stuff but I’ll help. But I’m also going to find you another woman to take care of this. This place is a mess. It definitely needs a woman’s touch.”
She props her hand on her lush hips and grins. “I think I have the perfect person in mind.”
Suspicion climbs my throat and I eye her uncertainly. “Who the hell are you thinking about?”
“She comes into the shelter all the time.”
