Justice by Oleander - 2012 Watty Awards, Finalist

Chapter 9

© Carey MacLean, 2012

Chapter 9

He cursed himself for having left her.  Thoughts of doubts filled his mind.  Had he pushed her into saying something too fast, too soon?  He knew he had to tell her.  The woman had been through too much in her short life.  She deserved to know how he felt.

But why do I feel like everything is crashing down?  He asked himself.

He threw his jeep in park, climbed out and stomped up the front steps to his house.  He paused with the keys in his hand.  Something told him that he had left too quickly.  He debated going back to her house but decided that the damage had already been done.  He might as well wait until the morning.

“What the hell are you doing?”  He heard from behind him with a slamming car door.

He turned, keys still in hand as he looked at his visitor.  There she stood, in her thin bathrobe, barefoot in his driveway.  It had been the first time he’d seen her that infuriated and he had to say that he kind of liked it.  The thought made him smirk.

“What are you doing here?”  He asked as quickly as he masked his contentment of her chasing him down.

“I’m here for you,” she told him and stayed beside her car.

His feet had apparently made his mind up and moved him in stride toward her.

“You drove here in that?  Where’re your shoes?”  He asked her.

“It’s not important.  Why did you leave?”  She questioned him.

“It seemed like the best thing at the time but now I’m not so sure,” he said and felt like utterly the world’s largest idiot in that moment.

Her being there was proof that he should have stayed. 

“I’m sorry,” he stepped up to her until he came toe to toe with her.

“You can’t tell me something like that and expect a typical response,” she told him and smiled as she grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead before pulling to look at her.

“And how do you feel about what I told you?”  He asked her.

“You’re right about telling me.  No, it wasn’t too soon and you were right in your analysis,” she said.

“What about my analysis?”  He wondered aloud but had an inkling of what she was about to say and so he smiled slightly at her.

“Can’t we take this inside somewhere?  All of a sudden, I’m feeling a little exposed,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

He knew she was regarding her current attire or lack thereof in this case.

“No.  Answer my question,” his smile broadened, bordering on cocky and he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, keeping his other hand on her back, holding her to him.

“I can’t ignore what you make me feel, Xav,” she pushed her face into his chest.  “I’m terrified as all hell.”

“That makes two of us, Gorgeous,” he whispered as he touched his lips to the top of her head.  “Now let’s get you back home.”

They reached her house in comfortable silence.  Xavier had, from time to time, grabbed their intertwined hands and kissed her fingers.  She couldn’t quite believe what had transpired in such a short amount of time.  She laughed when he picked her up and carried her over to the front door.  Taking her keys, he unlocked the front door for her and followed her through the entrance.