Part Twenty-One: The End

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Sang

I pulled the glasses from his face and sat them on the basin behind me. I started when I felt his strong, warm hands cup over my bare shoulders. His face twists with confusion and I feel my whole body flush with embarrassment as I whisper that I’m not wearing anything but a towel.

How did I end up in this situation with Mr Blackbourne? I couldn’t believe that Melissa had shot him in the face! She’d told me to run upstairs so that I could avoid her passing on her opinion about what they’d done and said to me but I hadn’t expected to rush down and find North with paint in his hair and Mr Blackbourne practically blinded by it.

I picked up a clean face washer and warmed it under the running tap. Why was I the one to volunteer to do this? I’d barely even touched the man before and I now I was going to have to stand within inches of his face and wipe it clean.

Surely he wouldn’t like me touching him?

I tried to make quick work of it but I found myself lingering as I gently cleaned the red from his long eyelashes. How could a male face be so perfect and why didn’t ha have as many girls after him as what the others seemed too?

I hated myself for thinking it. If any of them were out of bounds, then Mr Blackbourne topped the list.

“Miss Sorenson,” His voice echoed in the silence of the room and I jolted when I realised that I’d lowered the cloth to simply stare at the perfection of his face while he kept his eyes carefully closed.

I flushed with painful embarrassment and went back to my task, trying to make my strokes more efficient even though I could tell that they were tenderly gentle.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, not wanting to remain in awkward silence.

“It’s ok,” he answered, calmly. “Aside from the second half of today, have you enjoyed your time here?”

He seemed genuinely interested in my answer. Before Friday when he’d comforted me in his car, I would’ve hesitantly answered with a “Yes, it’s been fun,” but his numerous requests for me to be open, honest and myself seemed to have cracked something in my stiffness toward him.

I nodded, although he couldn’t see me, “I really have. The Anderson’s have all been wonderful and they’ve all been…helpful.” I stumbled over the last word, not wanting to talk to him about the conversation I’d had with them about polygamy. The definition in the dictionary made it seem sordid and illegal but having seen it, I thought it beautiful and right for them.

I’d really tried to distance myself from the glaring fact that I was slowly getting closer to their team and that I was putting myself into the same situation that Melissa had. For them, it seemed to work but I couldn’t imagine it for myself. My boys would never go for it and I couldn’t allow myself to even dream of it as it would only make it all harder in the end.

How did one not fall in love? I needed to find the answer to that question before it was too late.

I found that my hand had dropped the cloth from Mr Blackbourne’s eyes and cheeks to his lips. I was gently coasting it across his mouth although there had been no paint staining them.

I also realised that while I had been worrying over my daydreams, he had opened his eyes and was staring at me intently.

I yanked the washer away and threw it into the sink to try and distance myself from him and the blush that was no doubt mottling my face.

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