Being at loose ends wasnotsomething Jenna dealt with well. Her life was full and she liked it that way. Whenshe wasn’t going a million miles a minute, she binged watched Dawson’s Creek. But right now, she feared, not even Pacey and Capeside could be the balm to her frazzled nervous system.
Her phone buzzed and she looked down at the nightstand expecting it to be her peanut. She picked it up. It was a text from an unknown number.
Unknown
open your front door
Was it…? No, it couldn’t be Deacon. He didn’t have her number. But who else could it be? As she stood in her room contemplating who it might be another message came through.
Unknown
I got your number from the card I took when you did Tabby’s hair
Her entire body tensed with tingles just knowing it washimtexting. Explosions of bliss were being detonated throughout her limbs, her torso, even her fingers and toes. She stood frozen for a moment, then another text came through, the same as the first.
Unknown
open your front door
Oh, fuck! Was he there? He was there. He had to be. She glanced down at herself. She was still wearing her black leggings, white shirt, and baseball hat she’d worn all day. She’d needed to be comfortable, but she looked like shit.
She needed to change.
But she didn’t have time. What if someone, a neighbor,saw him on her porch? That would get tongues wagging.Fuck.She rushed down the stairs and couldn’t catch her breath. To be fair, she was breathless before she even hit the first step. By the time she made it to the bottom, she was practically hyperventilating.
Her heart went wild as she crossed the entryway, the rhythm of it almost painful, feet bare, legs shaky, every step toward the door tightening her chest, the inner monologue a tangle of hope and mortification. She flung the door open, adrenaline flooding her so sharply that she felt lightheaded.
The porch was empty. The world outside was the particular gray blue of late dusk, the neighborhood nestled in its mountain silence.
She blinked, letting her eyes adjust. Her heart sank.
Was this a joke? Was he upset she hadn’t responded to his invitation and dress delivery, so this was his version of adult doorbell ditch?
Her stomach twisted, she felt stupid and embarrassed for getting, she could admit it, excited over the thought that he was on her doorstep. She was just about to shut,slam, the door when she noticed something at her feet.
At first glance, she thought it was a basic gift basket, one of those standard spa day sets with cheap bubble bath and a candle that barely burned. But as she bent to pick it up, she noticed every detail, the heaviness of the lotions, the elegance of the bottles, and the way each item was nested in shreds of tissue paper that matched the satin lavender ribbon. It was absurdly, unnecessarily perfect. Luxurious. She sniffed the air instinctively, and underneath the scent of pine needles and the distant woodsmoke, she could detect a faint, expensive perfume.
She stepped cautiously out onto her porch and looked around. She didn’t see anyone. She moved back inside andshut the door, her heart still beating a million miles a minute.
Inside, she set the basket on the kitchen island and stared at it for a full thirty seconds. The kitchen was dark except for the glow from the back porch string lights. She flicked on the overhead light, and the basket’s contents glimmered like a treasure.
There was a folded note on top, ivory paper with her name written in script. She pulled it out, fingers trembling, and read:
Instructions for Your Evening:
1. take a relaxing bath
2. think of me and touch yourself but DO NOT come
3. put on body lotion and pretend it is my hands on your body
4. spray perfume in only one place that only I will be able to smell
5. get ready and get dressed wearing ONLY the items I have provided you
6. burn this message so no other eyes see it
7. go outside and get in the SUV waiting for you
