Page 43 of Body of Trust

As promised, Jesse is outside my building when I get off work. He’s still in his clothes from last night, which means he never left his post.

My mother was more than happy to agree to meet for dinner. Now, in any other situation where I was shot at, I would never go back to the scene of the crime, for fear of it happening again. But knowing Jesse will be there and how my mother insisted the members-only social club with its upgraded security is safer for us than anywhere else, I am pretty relaxed about going.

Mom still wants to talk, and like me, I think she needs some normalcy in her life. Plus, according to Gia, she really needs to get out of her velour jogging suit.

Jesse brings me home, where I shower and change while he sits on my couch and waits. He doesn’t complain that I’m taking too long or remind me of the time. He also doesn’t try to sneak into my shower and hasn’t stolen a kiss all day. I’m kind of disappointed by that.

I blow out my hair straight and then slide on a knee-length black chiffon dress, pairing it with heels. I make my eyes dramatic but go light on the lip gloss. I’m putting more effort than usual into my look, and it’s not for my mother. I shake my head at myself at how I’m acting like this is a date with Jesse, not with my family.

Who am I kidding? I’ve been doing this for the past year. Every Friday, before going to Villa Russo, I’d put on something extra pretty because I knew he’d be there.

When I’m done, I walk into the living room, and he rises from the couch immediately.

His eyes roam from my ankles and go up the length of my legs before lingering at my breasts for a beat. Then, he stares at my face, smiling a megawatt smile. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” I blush and let out a deep breath. “Do you keep a uniform at the club?”

“No. We have to stop at my place, so I can change.” He glances at his watch. “I’m gonna have to be fast, or I’ll be late.”

“Of course!” I grab my bag and rush to the door. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”

Jesse touches my elbow and turns me to face him, searing my lips with his. His kiss is soft and gentle yet potent. I have to clench my core to contain the urge running through me.

“Never apologize. If I needed you to rush, I would have politely said so. I can be quick.”

He takes my hand and walks me to the hallway, taking my keys from my hand and locking the door behind us and then handing them back.

We drive in separate cars with him walking out the back service entrance and me through the front lobby. I don’t know how he’s able to move about my building without being caught, but he’s very sure he’s not seen.

I follow him to a wooded area not far from where I live. The road narrows and curves with homes hidden behind overgrown trees. He pulls into a driveway of a one-story home. It’s older yet charming with its wood-paneled siding and brickwork that was popular in the ’70s.

He gets out of his car and walks over to me, all the while keeping his eyes up and looking around. With an arm on my back, he ushers me to the front door and lets us in.

The security alarm beeps, and he enters a series of numbers to turn it off. He walks through the living room and motions around. “Make yourself at home. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

He disappears down a hallway, and I look around the room. It’s impersonal. A beige couch sits in the center of the room, facing a flat screen television. The walls are bare, except for a painting on one wall. It has vibrant-colored flowers in a red vase. An odd piece for a room stark of personal effects. I assume it came with the place.

There are long drapes hanging on one side of the room. They’re closed. I open one, and the sunlight peeks through. I open it further to bring some sunshine in and am surprised by the view outside.

A small lake sits behind the home. It’s surrounded by the backs of other homes, all enjoying the splendor of this secret location kept from the rest of the island. I’ve known of this place. Someone told me there was a lake community with a few homes in them. Until now, I didn’t know anyone who lived here. I close the curtain and go back walking around the room.

A few copies of UFC Magazine are on the coffee table, and a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon Trail rests on the end table.

I’m thirsty, so I walk into the kitchen to grab a glass. There are only two in the cabinet. I fill one with water and listen as the water in the other room turns on.

Finished with my drink, I continue my tour down the hallway. There are two bedrooms, both empty, and a bathroom that’s clean and looks barely used.

At the end is another room, the door is wide open. I walk inside and see Jesse’s bedroom. There’s a king-size bed and a dresser with a mirror. His wallet, a pocketknife, and breath mints are on top along with some cash and loose change. It’s orderly in here, as is the rest of the house. His bed is made with tucked-in corners. The carpet has been vacuumed, and the place is dust-free. His phone is charging on the nightstand, and his clothes are neatly hanging in the closet.

There’s humming coming from the bathroom. I lean against the dresser and smile at the sound of Jesse singing in the shower. It’s charming.

The water turns off, and I watch as he slides a towel that was hanging on the shower rod down to the side of the curtain that I can’t see. When he opens the curtain, he’s covered in the towel and brushing the long strands of his dirty-blond hair back with his hand.

His chest is glistening with moisture and pink from how hot the water must have been. His back is to me as he brushes his teeth at the sink. I admire the muscles in his back as they flex with the simple movements.

I know he knows I’m here. If I’ve learned one thing about Jesse, it’s that he is aware of everyone’s whereabouts at all times.

“I like your place,” I say.