Nothing Between Us. Roni Loren

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      The fading sunlight felt good on Georgia’s skin. That was what she focused on—the warmth of the late-afternoon rays, the tickle of the fall breeze against her neck, and the smell of the rosemary and thyme growing in her small herb garden.

      But only paying attention to those pleasant things took effort. It meant ignoring the prickling of nerves that was an ever-present companion when she was out in the open. She was getting better at handling the anxiety each time, though. That was something. Even on the days she found it more difficult, she forced herself out at least once a day anyway to keep the promise she’d made via Skype to Leesha, her friend and therapist. Baby steps. That was what Georgia was relegated to. But at least they were steps.

      Georgia got the string of pumpkin lights all lined up and turned on. She smiled that they were working but quickly realized they only illuminated a bunch of weeds that had popped up since the last time she’d cleaned the garden. Damn. Well, what did she have but time? The kids wouldn’t be coming around for candy for a while still. And even then, she didn’t plan on opening her door. She’d bought a big bowl and made a sign that said Help Yourself to put out on the porch. So she went to work weeding the garden.

      She’d never been particularly into yard work before moving to Texas. It was hell on the nails, and she used to care about shit like that. But now it had become an outlet for her—one where she could let her mind wander and relax. Grab and yank, grab and yank. In a way, it was like meditation. And tonight she could use a bit of serenity. It would be a late night of hearing unfamiliar noises outside.

      She pulled at a stubborn weed, but it didn’t give. And it was blocking one of her pumpkin lights. That wasn’t going to work. With a huff, she put her other hand at its base and got into a squat to tug harder. The roots didn’t want to release but she was determined to get it out of there, so she gave it one last yank. The weed came free and sent her sprawling backward, a trail of soil arcing through the air. She landed on her ass with an oof, and the dirt showered her shirt and jeans.

      A shadow enveloped her. “And she’s down for the count.”

      Her heart gave a start at the deep voice and the nearness of it. She scrambled, spinning around onto her knees and pulling the canister on her hip in an automatic gesture. But as soon as she had the pepper spray aimed, her subconscious thankfully processed the voice before her systems could go completely haywire. “Colby.”

      He had his hands up in a whoa, there gesture but didn’t seem overly concerned, as if instinctively knowing she wasn’t going to attack.

      “Shit.” She lowered her arm and let out a shaky breath. “Sorry. I—you must think I’m a lunatic.”

      He gazed down at her, blocking out the sun, and then put a hand out to her. “No, it’s my fault. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

      She eyed his hand, reluctant to even go there, but she didn’t want to be rude. She put her hand in his large, warm one and he helped her to her feet. “Thanks.”

      He let her hand go immediately, as if aware that the contact made her nervous, and took a step back. “You okay?”

      “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just … Halloween makes me jumpy.” The excuse was lamer than most she came up with, but that was all she had at the moment.

      He gave her a friendly smile. “I’m not sure pepper spray works on ghouls and ghosts, but it’s never a bad idea to protect yourself. Did you hurt anything on the fall?”

      “Only my pride.” She glanced down and brushed the dirt off her ratty clothes. But it just made dark streaks smear over her shirt. Nice. She looked like she’d been rolling in the mud and he looked like … wait. She let her gaze travel over him again. He’d pulled a knit cap over his curly dark hair and had let his beard grow a little extra. And though it was cool outside, the red plaid flannel shirt and dark jeans seemed a little out of place for the night. Frankly, the whole rustic woodsman look was kind of working for him—and her—but she couldn’t quite figure out if it was supposed to be a costume.

      He must have noticed her perplexed expression because he smirked. “I’m supposed to be Paul Bunyan. If I had my ax or an ox, it’d probably make more sense.”

      She bit back a smile. Well, he was a giant of a man—well over six foot and broad—so it sort of made sense. “Right. That’s … creative.”

      “I lost a bet.”

      A laugh escaped, the act feeling foreign in her throat. “Well, I guess it could be worse then. They could’ve made you wear a tutu or something.”

      “I don’t know. I think my friend is bringing over a stuffed blue ox for me to carry around, so there’s more humiliation to come,” he said, hooking his thumbs in his jeans and making his shirt stretch across what she knew was a well-honed, to-die-for chest.

      She had to press her tongue to the back of her teeth to keep herself from inadvertently licking her lips. Don’t think about him naked. Don’t think about him naked.

      “So anyway, I was coming over to see if you’d like to play witness to that humiliation.”

      She blinked and her brain scrambled for a moment. “What?”

      He cocked a thumb toward his house. “I’m having some friends over tonight. Nothing major, just pizza, movies, and a little alcohol in between handing out candy. If you’re not doing anything tonight, you should come over.”

      She glanced down at the ground, that familiar push and pull yanking at her. The shadow of her old self leapt at the idea of going to a house party and meeting new people, at hanging out with the guy she’d been spying on for over a year now. Before everything happened back in Chicago, she’d never been an introvert. But that was then. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could handle this. She could already feel the electricity working through her, the nerves priming for fight-or-flight. If she attempted to go over there, she’d make a scene whether she wanted to or not. No. Freaking. Way.

      He must’ve thought she was looking down at her clothes. “You don’t need a costume or anything. It’s going to be laid-back.”

      Was laid-back his way of saying all his friends would end up in bed together? Because she’d seen some of the parties at his house. But she couldn’t imagine that he’d ask her to something like that. He didn’t know her at all. And though she knew he was kinky, she got the sense he kept that side of himself very separate, only exposing it to a trusted circle. He did work at a local high school, after all, and had to maintain a certain image. “That’s really nice of you to ask.”

      “So come,” he said simply.

      She forced a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I need to work tonight. I’m doing online interviews for a virtual assistant and … I’m not great with crowds anyway.”

      Shit. She hadn’t meant to confess that.

      His eyes narrowed as he studied her for a second. If he was trying to figure her out, she wished him luck. Most of the СКАЧАТЬ