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He leads me back over to the car and opens the door for me. I slip onto the seat and he closes the door behind me before heading around the front of his vehicle to the driver’s side.
I’m a little nervous about going back to his place—considering this is our first official date and we don’t exactly know each other that well.
He must sense my apprehension, because he says, “We’ll get cleaned up and then go to sleep, okay? I’ll take the couch.”
“Jared, I’m not throwing you out of your bed.”
“You’re not. I’m offering it to you.”
I want to argue, but I sense it would be fruitless.
“Thank you.”
“Hopefully, the police will talk to your ex and this whole thing will be over with fast.”
I hope this, too.
He drives the short journey over to his house and pulls up on the driveway. It’s a charming little place with a neatly kept lawn on the front and a stoop with a rail just big enough for a mid-sized potted plant.
He climbs out and I follow suit before trailing after him toward the front door. When he puts the keys in the lock, he turns to me and says, “I apologize for the number of toys everywhere. My kid isn’t always the tidiest, and I don’t always have time to pick up before we’re rushing out the door.”
I wave this off. “Honestly, it’s fine. You’re doing me a huge favor. I’m not going to complain about anything.”
He pushes the door open and steps over the threshold into a small hallway. I follow him into the living area, which is, indeed, a little untidy.
Immediately, he starts picking up the toys and shoving them in a box in the corner.
“Do you want a drink or something?”
“To be honest, I think I’d like to just sleep after all the excitement of today.”
He deposits the last toy and nods. “Yeah, I get that.”
His home is distinctly masculine in its décor. It’s mostly grays and dark blues, but there are a few knick-knacks here and there that speak to a feminine touch—his deceased wife, most likely.
“I feel a little like my drama brought our otherwise perfect evening to a not-so-fun close.”
His head lifts to look at me. “At least it’ll be memorable when we recount it.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to run far and fast.”
“I don’t want to run anywhere.”
“You should. I’m a drama magnet.”
He moves over to me and cups my face with his hands. They’re warm and a little rough. “Then you’re my drama magnet.”
My heart stutters at this. “Give it a few more incidents like this and you’ll be changing your mind, I’m sure.”
“What’s happening here isn’t your fault.” He’s a little stern when he says this. He’s also right. This isn’t my fault, but I don’t want to bring trouble to his door either.
“I just wish I knew what was happening.”
“Your business and your home—that’s personal, Nia. It’s a direct hit on you as a person.”
He’s right, but other than Thomas, I can’t imagine who would come at me like this. It’s a question for another day, anyway. I’m too stressed and too tired right now to unpick it.
Sensing that, he says, “Come on, let’s get you sorted for bed.”
