“No honey,” comes the deep, warm voice. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be. It’s Colton, Evie.”
I put my eye back to the peephole, trying to wrap my mind around the man standing outside. He’s got to be the biggest man I’ve ever seen, and probably one of the scariest. Even through his clothes, I can tell he’s got more muscles than Arnold when he played Conan the Barbarian in the eighties. Tattoos, partially covered by the rolled-up sleeves of his plaid shirt, cover his arms. And I’m pretty sure he’s got more on his neck. His hair is dark, cut close to his scalp, with heavy dark eyebrows and a short black beard.
He looks like a criminal.
A really hot, sexy lumberjack-type criminal.
And despite that, there’s something about him that makes me want to give him a hug.
I’m seriously rethinking this. Opening my door to this man, letting him in my home and anywhere near my daughter feels like a bad idea, no matter how huggable he may seem. Maybe I should just be looking for a different neighborhood or something, instead of traveling to a whole new city.
I startle when my cell rings in my hand. Holly’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hello,” I answer, my voice hoarse.
“Is he there? Colt texted he was outside. Are you with him?” She sounds way too excited about this.
Unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I ask. “There’s a man outside my door, but he looks….” I trail off, not even sure how to describe the wall of muscle in the hallway.
“Looks huge, scary, and tattooed?” She asks with a smile in her voice. “That’s Colt. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever met. You are so safe with him, Evie, I promise.”
I peek again, and he’s still standing there, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, waiting. No sign of frustration or anger. Instead, a small smile plays on his lips.
I say a quick goodbye to Holly and tuck my phone into my pocket, then reach out and start working on the locks. I’m tempted to talk to him through the chain, but I don’t want to be a dick. Holly vouched for him, and if she, a woman who spent years being hurt by a man, can trust him, then I can too. My throat tight, I finally swing open the door.
Colton’s smile grows, but his eyes harden slightly as he looks me over. He hides it well, but I see it. The judgment.
I know what he sees when he looks at me. A tall, big-boned woman looking worn the fuck out, wearing clothes that are way too big for her. They’re good quality, at least, leftovers from my old life. Before Brent blew it up. But I look ridiculous, I know.
I feel tears prick my eyes as I take him in. He’s scary all right, his shirt stretching tight over his biceps. He’s got the biggest arms I’ve ever seen. But that’s not what brings tears to my eyes. He’s so alive, so masculine, and the small womanly part of me I thought was dead, the part that wants to be seen as attractive by a larger-than-life man like this, is embarrassed. No way would a man like him be seen with a woman like me. And that feels really fucking sad.
I push back the tears and look for the tattered remains of the old me. The woman who didn’t take any shit and could put anyone in their place with a look. When I think I’ve found her, temporarily at least, I swing the door open wider and wave him in. “Come on in, Conan.”
His smile shifts, widening, clearly not minding being compared to a barbarian. He steps inside, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he stops beside me. His size feels overwhelming, but I refuse to back up, holding his gaze for what feels like minutes before closing and locking the door. He moves further into the living room, making everything look smaller as he studies the space. There’s not much of it to look at, but I’m proud of the home we made here. I had to sell off most of my stuff before we moved here, but I kept a few keepsakes from our old life.
He moves closer to the heavy silver photo frame on the wobbly bookshelf, picking it up and studying the photo inside. It was taken outside the courthouse by my lawyer the day my adoption of Mia was finalized. She was a year old, dressed in a frilly pink dress, with a pink flower headband. Her caramel skin and rich brown hair glowed in the sun. My size eighteen body was in a lacy white dress, auburn hair freshly highlighted, smiling like I’d just been given the whole world.
It’s funny. When I looked at that picture before everything fell apart, all I could see was the way the roll of my stomach was emphasized by the way I was holding Mia. Now, I wish I could go back there. I’d take that roll, that body, that life, back in a heartbeat.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, touching his fingers to Mia’s image, then mine. My eyes widen at the appreciation in his voice.
His warm gaze meets mine, then he carefully sets the photo down. “Did you need help packing up your things?”
I shake my head, moving towards the duffel bag at the end of the couch. “I’ve got everything we need for the next few days. Mia’s still sleeping, but I’ll go wake her up.”
“Wait,” he says softly, stopping me in my tracks. He moves a few steps closer to me, the back of the couch all that separates us. “It might be a good idea to take more.”
I frown, looking down at the duffel. “Why? We’re just going for a few days, right?” I ask suspiciously.
“That’s up to you,” he says with a shrug. “But we can easily pack everything that matters to you. That way, if you decide you don’t want to come back, you don’t have to.”
“You think I’m going to want to stay so badly that I’d abandon all my furniture here?”
“Hope,” he corrects. “I hope you’re going to want to stay, and if you take everything that matters to you, you won’t need anything else from here.”
He’s making a pretty big assumption, sure, but I don’t disagree with him. Other than Mia’s toys and a few keepsakes, I’m not attached to a single thing here. The furniture was from a thrift store and cost me less than a hundred dollars.
“Lay it out for me,” I say, crossing my arms. “I pack up all our personal items. And if I decide Chicago’s not for me, you bring it all back for me, right?”
