Over the Fence (17 page)

He hesitated, looking behind me. “Don’t even think about looking at her.” I stared him down. “Leave. Now.”

I watched with narrowed eyes as he limped toward his truck. The loud rumbling of his engine made me roll my eyes. I disliked him for his stupid attention-seeking vehicle alone. Adding in how I had witnessed him treating Kourtney, had brought the dislike up to loathing.

I waited until I could no longer hear his engine. Turning, I hurried back into the house, locking the door behind me. I walked down the hall, only to find Kourtney on her knees, her shaking hands trying to gather up the broken glass on the floor.

I crouched down beside her, my hand covering hers. “Stop, Kourtney,” I whispered. “I’ll do that. You’ll cut yourself.”

She ignored me, trying to pick up more glass. I could feel her entire body vibrating. I longed to pull her to me and cradle her in my arms. Squeezing her hand, I lifted it off the floor and out of the glass. “Please. Leave it.”

“I’m sorry you witnessed that, Nathan.” Her voice was thick and full of pain.

“That was your brother?”

She nodded, her hands covering her face, her shoulders hunched and shaking. I stood up, pulling her with me, and guided her to the sofa. She curled into the corner, trembling hard. I sat beside her and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She was tense and stiff, fighting any comfort I was trying to give her.

“Kourtney,” I began.

“You need to go. Please.”

I looked down at her lowered head, wanting nothing more than to lift her chin and see her face.

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Nathan . . .
please.
Give me a little time . . . I’ll get your dinner in a while.”

Was she serious?

“Chefgirl, I don’t give a fuck about dinner.” I felt her tense even further and I softened my voice. “I’m not leaving you alone after what happened.”

“I can’t . . . I can’t . . .” she whispered.

I tightened my arm around her. “Can’t what?”

“I can’t . . . hold it in . . . I . . . don’t . . . want . . . you to see . . .”

I could feel her shoulders start to shake. I shifted her as I turned, pulled her to my chest and cradled her head in my hand, my fingers stroking through the thick tresses of her hair in gentle passes. “I
want
to see, Kourtney. Let it out. I have you.” I spoke low into her ear, tightening my arms as she tried to move away, her body taut with tension. “I’m here. You’re not alone. I’m
not
leaving you alone.”

A shudder ran through her as she melted into me, her arms wrapping around my neck as sobs began wracking her body. I drew her closer, running my hands up and down her back, my heart clenching at the sounds of her pain-filled cries. She felt supple in my arms, her lush curves fitting against me so well. I held her tight, listening as she let her emotions escape, finally accepting the comfort I wanted to give. Incoherent words poured out of her mouth and I didn’t try to stop their muffled sounds. She needed to say them, even if they made no sense to me. The ones I caught made me frown.

Unworthy. Unloved. Useless.

I didn’t understand. She was none of those. I knew it in my heart.

I dropped loving kisses on her head, resting my cheek on the softness of her hair, breathing in her scent. I hummed and rocked her, hating her pain, but grateful I was there to help her get through it. This was not the homecoming I had envisioned for us tonight.

Slowly, her sobs quietened. The shudders and tremors shaking her body eased. Leaning over, I grabbed the box of Kleenex from the side table. I felt her stiffen up, pulling back, and I released her from the circle of my arms with regret.

I pressed some tissues into her hand, gathering her heavy tresses with my fingers, smoothing them away from her face. I could see her pale skin, blotchy and wet from her tears, but her eyes remained downcast. I studied her features as she used the tissues to wipe her cheeks, her breath coming out in small, shuddering gasps as she collected herself. She was as lovely as I imagined her to be, if not more so.

“I’m—”

“Don’t, Kourtney. You don’t have to say it,” I interrupted her. “You don’t owe me an apology.”

We were both quiet. “I’m going to go and make us a drink,” I said, keeping my voice soft, my hands continuing to stroke her hair. “I think we both need it.”

“I don’t have much, but the liquor is in the kitchen cabinet by the table,” she mumbled.

“Okay.” But I didn’t move. “Kourtney . . . look at me—please.”

She stiffened further, anxiety pouring off her body at my quiet words. Reaching out, I cupped her chin and lifted her face. “Open your eyes, Kourtney. Let me see you.”

Her hands clenched hard on my chest. Her eyelids opened, slow and hesitant.

And, for the first time I gazed into Kourtney’s wide eyes, a surprised gasp escaping my lips.

I sighed as I dumped the last of the broken glass in the garbage bin. After Kourtney had pushed away and flown down the hall to her bedroom, I needed to stay busy so I didn’t follow her. I had righted the table, picked up the broken pictures, and ordered some pizza. I studied the limited supply in the liquor cabinet, grabbed the vodka, and mixed us some strong drinks. God knew I needed one, and I suspected Kourtney did, too.

Standing in the kitchen, taking a deep swallow of my drink, I studied the photos. Both were black and white pictures taken in a forest; lone trees set apart from the rest of the woods, bent and twisted out of shape, stark and hauntingly beautiful in their simplicity. I picked up one and studied it, smiling when I saw the small signature on the corner of the mat.
Kourtney.
I wasn’t surprised to discover she had taken the photos. They screamed isolation and sadness. The same emotions I had seen pouring out of her eyes when she had looked at me.

My gaze drifted down the hall, my stomach a mass of undecided knots. I wasn’t certain she still wanted me here, but I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t leave her alone. Not given what had transpired with her brother or my ill-concealed reaction to her eyes.

I had gazed at her, waiting for her to open her eyes, eagerly absorbing the details of her face. She had rounded, full cheeks, with freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose and a deep pink set of plump lips that begged to be kissed. Under the corner of her left eye was a petite beauty mark that stood out next to the paleness of her skin, adding to her unique charm. Her hair was a long, thick mass of waves around her shoulders, and my fingers caressed the strands as I pleaded with her to look at me. She was as curvy and voluptuous as my glimpses had promised.

However, it was the vision of her eyes meeting mine that caused me to gasp out loud. With the deep color of her hair, I expected brown eyes, or perhaps blue like my own. What I hadn’t expected under her long lashes, was one blue and one green eye; their uniqueness all the more apparent due to the vividness of the color of her unmatched irises. I had never seen anything as beautiful as the intensity of her stare. The sound that escaped my lips, when I saw the brilliance, shocked us both. She had immediately dropped her gaze and scrambled off my lap, running down the hall before I could stop her. Her door closed, and my head fell into my hands in regret, knowing my reaction had startled her.

Still thinking about my unexpected, but involuntary response, I put her broom away, and picked up my drink again. I heard the sound of her door opening, and her steps came closer. She hesitated in the doorway before entering the kitchen. I handed her a drink, a small grimace crossing her face after she sipped it.

“Too strong?” I murmured, afraid if I spoke too loud it would frighten her.

“I, ah, don’t drink much,” she admitted, her eyes glancing toward the photos. I removed the glass from her hand and poured some of it down the drain, adding more orange juice, handing it back to her. She sipped it again with no grimace, her fingers tracing the broken frames.

Now she was standing beside me, I could see how short she was, not even reaching my chest. It pleased me somehow, knowing she would fit perfectly under my chin when I held her. I found myself having to resist the urge to pull her close to me; the desire to feel her curves molded to my body so strong, I almost couldn’t contain it.

“The photos aren’t damaged,” I pointed out. “We’ll get some new frames for them tomorrow and I’ll rehang them for you. You took the pictures, Kourtney?”

“Yes, I did.”

“They’re stunning. You’re very talented.”

She shrugged, not speaking, her finger continuing to trace the frames.

“I ordered a pizza for dinner.”

“I’m fine, Nathan. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Good. Because that’s not what I’m doing.”

Her beautiful eyes flew to mine, only to glance away again. I didn’t like that. I wanted her eyes on me. I stepped in front of her, taking her glass and putting it on the counter.

“Hey. Look at me.” I dipped down to her level, trying to encourage her to do so, reaching out my hand to touch hers.

Resigned, sad, extraordinary eyes slowly met mine. I drew in a breath, clasped her hand, and spoke the words I had been anxious to share with her. “Hello, Chefgirl. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

She blinked up at me. “Hello, Nathan.” Her stunning eyes were filled with emotion: confusion, apprehension and sadness swirled in their depths.

“Kourtney,” I breathed. Gradually, so I didn’t startle her, I lifted my hand and caressed her warm cheek, my finger reaching up to tenderly stroke the edge of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged; her expression sad. “It’s okay, I know it’s abnormal. People always react.” Her voice dropped. “I don’t like it, but I’m used to it.”

I frowned, tightening my hand on her cheek. “No—you don’t understand.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

I stared at her, holding her gaze. “Your eyes are not abnormal.” I exhaled hard. “They are, without a doubt, the most gorgeous pair of eyes I have ever seen. I wasn’t prepared for the sheer . . .
beauty
I saw. You took my breath away.”

Her gaze was one of disbelief.

“Your eyes mesmerize me. I want to lose myself in them.” I hesitated, but decided to forge on. “I want to lose myself in you.”

“What?” she whispered in confusion.

To hell with slow. I knew what I wanted and she was right here in front of me. I knew it was fast, but, somehow, I also knew I wouldn’t have another chance—she was far too skittish.

“I don’t want to be the neighbor guy on the other side of the fence anymore. I want to be here, spend time with you and get to know you. Share our time face-to-face—not separated by a fence.” I traced my finger under her eyes. “I want to see these exotic eyes sparkle when you smile. When you laugh. God, Kourtney, I love your laugh.”

“Exotic? You think my eyes are exotic?”

I nodded. “Exotic, intriguing, dazzling—” I sighed in frustration. “But too sad. I don’t want them sad.” I stepped forward, wrapping one arm around her, pulling her to me. I could feel the tension in her body. “Give me a chance to make your eyes shine. Give me the pleasure of seeing that vision. Of knowing I can do that for you.” Leaning forward, I kissed her forehead, nuzzling the warm skin of her brow. “Please.”

A small whimper escaped her throat. Her arms wound around my neck as she buried her face in my chest, fitting to me just the way I knew she would. I could feel her body trembling as I gathered her close, loving how her rich, full curves felt against me. I buried my hand in her thick, silken hair as I held her, swaying us, and she clung to me. Somehow I sensed this was what she needed. To be held and comforted. I knew I needed it.

The ringing of the doorbell had her pulling back from me. “It’s okay—it’s the pizza. You get us some plates, okay?” I assured her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

I came back, boxes in hand, to find Kourtney standing at the counter. “I, um, prepared your usual surface for you,” she offered with a shaky smile, indicating the top of the stove.

I deposited the boxes on the flat surface. Without thinking, I leaned over and kissed her cheek, lingering on the delicate skin. “Good thing I taught you the proper usage.”

I winked. “And I’m glad to see you’re open to new ideas.” The subtle blush on her cheeks made me grin. I flipped open the lids. “My turn to feed you. Meat lovers or veggie?”

“Veggie, please.”

“Somehow, I knew it.”