“Your mom …” I let the question die on my lips, but the unstated words hung in the air.
“She died fifteen years ago. Cervical cancer.”
“I’m sorry.” What else could I say? It may have happened a long time ago, but the look in Micah’s eyes told me that he still hurt over the loss of his mother.
Before I realized it, his hand was reaching for mine, taking hold of it. My heart started beating peculiarly fast, and that was the moment I realized that this was the first time we’d touched, skin to skin. For a rare moment, I never wanted him to release my hand.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love deeply. The pain is unbelievable. I can imagine that it’s only worse when there are so many unanswered questions about what happened. I’m going to find out what happened to your grandfather. I’ll give you that closure.”
I eyed our two hands, intertwined, and there was that feeling of safety again.
“Thank you.”
My voice was barely audible, but he heard it because he nodded as his gaze seared into mine again.
That quickly, I couldn’t remember the original intentions of this dinner.
I frowned as we approached Jodi’s truck. With my hand at the small of her back, touching the smooth skin that resided there since she wore a cropped top, I was tempted to pull her to me, to keep her close. A reaction I’d never had so soon after meeting a woman.
“This was your grandfather's truck?” I questioned as she stopped at the driver’s side door.
She turned to me, smiling. “Yup. He named it Rambo.” She laughed, causing a muscle in my chest to twitch. “Said it was because she kept on ticking. Whenever it’d break down, or something happened, he managed to fix it up and keep on pushing.”
I lifted an eyebrow and looked over the truck. The splotches of paint that stood out and the rust along the side weren’t what concerned me. Under different circumstances, I’d say those things gave the truck character. That Jodi wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to drive around in it also had the odd effect of making me even more attracted to her.
None of that negated that she was driving around in a truck that could give out at any moment. I envisioned her breaking down on some long stretch of road, of which there were plenty around town, and being stranded somewhere with spotty cell service and alone. That was a vision that didn’t sit well with me.
“Do you have Triple A?” I questioned.
Her eyes widened, surprised. “No.” She shook her head. “Don’t need it. I gave up my car at home. It was too expensive to keep in the city, so I let it go. I’m only here for a few months.” She shrugged.
My body rebelled at the timeframe she put on her stay, but I quickly discarded that feeling.
“Let me see your cell phone.”
She wrinkled her brows. “For what?”
“To add my number. In case you get stranded somewhere.”
“I can just call a mechanic.”
I snorted. “There are plenty who’d have no trouble ripping you off for work the truck doesn’t need, or they can’t do.”And then I’d have to whoop somebody’s ass.“Your phone?”
She looked at me with apprehension, but a second later, her cell phone was in my hand. I went to her contacts and input the number to both of my cell phones.
“That’s my work cell and my private cell.” I’d only given her my work cell on the business card before. Now I wanted her to have both.
“Rambo will be fine.”
I didn’t say anything as I looked from her to the truck and back to her again.
“I’ll follow you to your house.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Necessary or not, it’s still happening.”
Her gaze narrowed, and I lifted my lips into a smirk, ready to hear whatever retort she wanted to give.
