Start with the simple bits, he thought. So he opted for generalisation, "Bob said he had tried to find a job, that allowed him to handle his current circumstance" He answered the query in her eyes. "Yes, most people balked when he explained the various aspects, the barriers and the possible stipulations."
"Oh dear. Poor chap." She knew what it felt like, when you have no real prospects. She, like him, were between a rock and wall. Keeping her eyes firmly on her duvet, because every time she thought about him, she became flustered. Especially now, when she recalled the way his thumb had stroked her lips and chin, she might as well not have had a brain. So she mumbled softly, "Well, you didn't balked." She felt vulnerable when she was around him. Not because he scared her, but because she scared herself. What happened to her self-preservation, she wondered, and scolded herself, why beg him to stay? Idiot, idiot, idiot, she murmured silently. What is the matter with her? She was already mulling over how to recover her preservation instinct.
Gray shrugged, not sure if his statement would dispatch his progress with her. From hero to jerk within seconds. He ran his fingers through his hair, and glanced across the bedroom towards the window, hoping to find inspiration. It was his pause that had Regan incline her head, peeked at him and frowned. She pulled her legs up, tenting the duvet with her knees and clasped her knees with her arms and linked her fingers to secure her knees. Unable to restrain her curiosity any longer, she said quietly, "You could have dismissed his application." Regan remind him.
He shifted uneasily, "Yes, well, to be honest, I did hesitate." He subconsciously braced for a rebuke and again reached for her hands. Her fingers were linked holding her shins and his fingers and thumb stroked the back of her fingers. "I was about to dismiss his application."
"Really?" She asked rather more brusquely then she had intended, as she tried not to appear flustered. She wanted to mask her reaction to his touch. A caress that had sparks, heating her blood. A simple caress. Just his fingers brushing the back of her hands.
He looked her in the eye before shifting his gaze away, "Yeah. I did." His thumb continued to caress. It felt wonderful having that contact, albeit, a whisper of contact. But as that thought registered, he knew, if a simple touch, like his thumb stroking her fingers, imagine what the feeling would be if the contact were more.
She lowered her legs, and left her hands on the top of the duvet, and she thought by doing that, he would not continue to brush the back of her hands. But she was wrong. He reached for the nearest palm and linked their fingers. Sparks like a Catherine wheel firework went off. Her heart beat kick into an uneven pulse when their fingers made contact and linked.
She gulped. "I would appreciated it if you do not hold my hands." She tugged her hand away. And she quickly stashed her hands beneath her duvet cover that covered her lap and clasped her hands as the residue of sparks of the Catherine wheel were circulating in her system.
He chuckled. "I like holding your hands. It warms my hands." More than warmed his hands. He suddenly made up his mind about something and his body language changed. His posture was relaxed and his confidence overtook his caginess. "Poor circulation you understand, cold hands. And you know what they say about cold hands." He quirked an eyebrow.
She snorted and suddenly the tension eased out of her shoulders, just like him, a few seconds ago. Regan recognised he was teasing her. She returned to the conversation, "Why did you hesitated about engaging Bob?" She tipped her head and frowned, "Why?" She brought her hands from beneath her duvet and folded her arms.
Gray shifted on the bed, turned a bit, so that he was no longer just perching on the side of her bed, he lifted his leg, bend at the knee, so that his knee was braced on the top of the duvet. His knee brushed her thigh. How could that touch, with material between their skins, resulting in the increase in her pulse? She nearly gulped. She lowered her gaze, because she didn't want to reveal her thoughts. Gray secured his knee, by placing his palm on the crook of his knee on the bed.
"He could only do one shift, and even that would needed a tweak in the schedule to fit in with his situation."
Well that was true. She raised a shapely brow at his statement and asked gently hoping he'd trust her with his real thoughts and his real reasons, "So what changed your mind?"
"You." He smiled broadly.
It was said with so much conviction that Regan chuckled, "Me?" She smoothed out one of the many creases in her duvet. Her palms were damp with nervous tension, but her heart was just beginning to pick up a normal beat.
"Yes." He chuckled at her surprise. Their eyes remained locked on each other.
Then she frowned as doubt and poor self-esteem crept in. "Because you thought I would accept anything. Even crumbs?" Yes, of course she would accept any crumbs if it helped her farm. She had tried to find workers, and she knew she had an uphill task given the rumours about working on her farm. She looked at Gray and murmured, "You are right, I would accept crumbs. Anything, really."
This woman was way more sensitive then he had ever imagined. "No. That isn't it!" Gray shook his head, his eyes glinting with appreciation, he said drolly. "It was your attitude."
"My attitude?" Her gut did a somersault as nerves vied for recognition. Her attitude? She remembered what he said previously to her, about her attitude: she was a selfish woman. A miser. Gray saw her pensive expression and frowned. What now? Surely she would see the glinting in his eyes. Unfortunately for Gray, Regan thought this was going to be a nightmare. She should not have asked him to stay. Even now, she could use the excuse of exhaustion. Not an excuse, a real reason. In any case, she was about to lapse into self-criticism. Then she heard his statement.
"Yes, your values, your approach, your attitude." He stated bluntly
She felt her heart pick up pace. Nervous, apprehensive, anticipation, hope, mixed together, she asked, "What do you mean?"
"You have an attitude of paying things forward." He said softly.
"Paying forward?" She blinked.
"Yes. You know, pay it forward."
"Yes, I know about that concept," She assumed an air of calmness, but her heart was thundering so loudly, she was surprised he hadn't heard it so she used the moment to move her hands from beneath the duvet, hoping the rustling the sheets would mask her heart beats, "but my attitude?"
"Yes. Your attitude. You paid it forward." Gray looked straight at Regan and said frankly, "Jenny's family were kind to you and you paid kindness forward."
Regan was momentarily nonplussed. He was must be kidding, she thought he knew she didn't contribute when his girlfriend, Caro arranged that charity do! Baffled she mumbled, "I don't think I understand the concept at all!"
Gray said, "They helped you when you had difficulties, you helped my family given our situation."
"That is not the same!" Regan felt gauche. She simply had to explain that she had been lucky to have the Jones family as neighbour when she visited her grandparents, and Jenny and her family had kindness running through their system. They would help anyone. If you asked anyone in town about the Jones family, everyone would all say the Jones family were nice, generous, kindhearted and they have a reputation for helping everyone. Regan sighed, she had only helped one family: Gray's family.
"Yes, it is."
"No." Regan shook her head. She let out a loud sigh. "They have a reputation in town. They are known for their generosity and kindness." She muttered gloomily. "I did not give anything for Caro's charity thing! You know that." She frowned in thoughtful consideration as she wondered if she was always stingy.
"I think you are right." The corner of his lips quirked.
"What?" She blinked in confusion.
"You said you don't think you understood the concept at all. You are right. Your understanding of the concept is warped!"
"Thanks!" Stupid, stupid woman, she castigated herself. She surreptitiously wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall. Gray watched a play of emotions flit across her eloquent eyes and when she lowered her arm and hand, he reached forward and linked their fingers.
"Jenny and her family helped you and you paid that forward when you helped my family. Over and over for months. " He said, adding somewhat sheepishly, "I thought I should do the same".
Regan tipped her face up so that she looked straight into his eyes, "Meaning?" She asked with mild apprehension. She felt a tiny prickle of trepidation as nerves and audacity vied for precedence while her heart registered the fact his thumb was stroking her fingers while her brain processed his announcements.
"Pay it forward. Help Bob." Gray smiled gently.
She tipped her head back and pouted briefly, trying to decide whether to ask him to release her fingers or reciprocate his gesture, stroke his fingers.