The cold was brutal against my skin. Suddenly, the temperature of his place was a problem.
I lowered my body into the chair and allowed him to adjust it underneath the table. Once he was back in his seat, I regained control of my fork. Just as I dipped it into my potatoes, the table began buzzing.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
Face down, my phone began moving around on the wood. My throat thickened. My heart fell from my chest into my stomach. Conviction was loud and clear, filling me with discontent. Discomfort. Misunderstanding. Still, I reached for my cell, flipping it over.
1-228-555-682-2426
I read the number once, searching the contacts in my mental rolodex. It didn’t ring any bells. But, refusing the call felt more like the beginning of a cruel and unjust death than I cared to admit.
“Excuse me–” I rushed out, pressing the green button as I stood to my feet.
I headed toward the kitchen, hardly out of Kason’s view, but I wasn’t looking to disappear. It was a pinch of privacy that I was after.
I pressed the phone against my ear. My breathing had slowed to a creep. Yet, it was loud, labored and unsteady. My stomach turned, flipping uncontrollably with my heart inside of it.
Hello.
It never fell from my lips. It remained lodged in my head. Nevertheless, my heavy breathing announced my presence on the line.
Silence.
I inhaled.
Silence.
I exhaled.
Silence.
I held my next breath.
Silence.
Hello!Nothing emerged.
Silence.
My palms grew sweaty. I wiped them down my dress, praying they didn’t stain the sensitive silk permanently. Intuition led me to identify the caller without hearing his sultry baritone.
Josiah Blackwood.
His audacity was handicapping. It was penetrating. It was attractive. It was appalling. It was baffling.
I mustered enough strength to release the word that had been stuck in my head since answering the call.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Anxiety swelled my chest, replacing my heart.
But then, there was movement. There was sound. There was life. There was confirmation. My body became a furnace.
“Go home, Range.”
