Sure enough, without warning, and likely fueled by the large alcohol courage I had…
…I touched his chest.
Right there on my front porch in the middle of the night and without warning. My drunken hand reached out and touched his chest! It would have been bad enough if that’s all that happened, but I couldn’t stop myself. My verbal garbage kept coming out.
“Oh my god, you work out. Yeah, you definitely work out. Is that all you do all day long is workout?”
He stood there with the same calm and cool look as when he first saw me on my knees in his flower bed. Hmmm…he seemed to be the quintessential strong silent type. His face was serious and observed me with just the slightest bit of a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.
“To answer your first question, I’m here to relax and get away for a little while,” he said, and looked down at my drunken hand still sitting on his chest. “Yes, I work out.”
Maybe it was the alcohol wearing off, but I suddenly realized my hand was on his chest and I removed it. My eyes looked at his and then down at his chest again. What had come over me? This was not my usual behavior. Then again, a sexy guy like this on my front porch was not my usual evening either.
I could feel the flush of embarrassment start filling up my face. I stopped looking at his chest and made eye contact with him, but that was worse than looking at his chest.
“Oh, alright. Yeah, I kind of thought that you were a workout kind of guy. I like to run. But I don’t get out as much as I would like and I certainly don’t run for long distances. Maybe down a few blocks and back. Like one mile tops. I take pictures. That’s what I like to do. You know…photography and that kind of stuff?”
I wanted to stop talking. I just couldn’t send the impulse
from my brain to my mouth to make it happen.
“Well, you have a nice night Katelyn.”
He turned to walk away and I stood on my porch and watched him. I waited for him to look back at me, ready with one last wave goodnight. But he didn’t turn around.
“Goodnight!” I yelled as he disappeared around the corner of the neighbor’s house toward the back door.
I closed my front door and stood inside pondering who this man was and what he was doing in tiny little Bain, Missouri. He had this quiet calmness about him that was fascinating. I had never met a man who seemed to have so much self-control, like a vigilant soldier with his senses finely tuned.
I turned the lights off in my house and tried to look out at the neighbor’s house. I just wanted to see if there was any movement inside of his house. Perhaps I secretly wanted to get one last peek at that chiseled chest of his? But I was disappointed and there wasn’t a single sign of movement throughout his house.
As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but fantasize about being with the gorgeous neighbor. I had not even considered another man since Michael’s death, so it surprised me how easily this man was filling my thoughts. Normally the memory of Michael and our six years together caused me too much pain to even think about it for long. He had been my first love, my high school sweetheart. After losing Michael a year before, I never thought I could ever move on. Maybe my interest in the gorgeous stranger was a signal that I might be ready now.
As I drifted off to sleep, I saw the stranger’s face in my mind: his chiseled serious face, with just the right touch of softness. His demeanor was so relaxed and calm for such a late hour. It struck me as odd that he was so readily awakened in the middle of the night, but I was happy he did wake up. Getting to meet him was just what I needed to give me hope that someday I could move on from my grief about Michael’s death.
Chapter 3
“Are you alright?” Rebecca said loudly into the phone.
I’m not sure if she was actually loud or if my body was reacting horribly to the large amount of alcohol I had consumed the night before.
“Shhhh, not so loud,” I said as I tried to pry my eyes open.
“I’m talking in a regular voice. Are you just getting up? Geeze Katelyn it’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon.”
Sitting up in my bed I squinted with one eye as I looked at the clock. I couldn’t remember ever sleeping in that late, even on a Sunday. Typically I had my days filled with so many things to do I would wake up out of pure worry that I wouldn’t get them all done.
“I guess I am,” I said with a smile.
“So you’re alive and I can call off the search crews, great.”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for coffee. I’m just going to nurse this hangover for today.”
“Take some aspirin, drink some water, oh and some orange juice too.”
“Alright. Alright. I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
My bladder was about to explode and if Rebecca had not willingly hung up, I’m sure I would have just done it myself. Rebecca was a kind soul who really did care about everyone. After losing my parents to illness and Michael to a car accident, Rebecca had been the best person in the world to lean on.