Page 111 of Two-Step
I throw the door open as Jonathan jogs up the porch steps. Dripping and grinning, he halts at the front door when he sees us.
Jonathan Reynolds is tall and spare with long limbs and expressive hands. He’s not unattractive. He has an interesting, angular face that makes him look aristocratic and authoritative, even though he’s barely in his thirties. But his smile is easy and friendly, which usually gives those of us who work under him a bit of confidence when we approach him.
I wish I had some of that confidence now.
Jonathan’s grin holds, but his blue eyes are full of questions when he looks from me to Beau. I can see he’s trying to work out who Beau is and what he’s doing here.
“Hey, I’m Jonathan,” he says, offering his hand. Slate-faced, Beau shakes it.
“Beau,” he says, coolly, offering no more than that.
Jonathan’s eyes linger on him a moment before returning to me. “Are you ready? We’re cutting it close.” He gestures over his shoulder at the angry weather. Even under the porch, spray hits us with each gust of wind.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words just aren’t there. The easy way out would be to nod, grab my bag, and never look Beau in the eyes again. But instead, I look at him now.
His eyes are on me with unblinking focus. Like he’s waiting for me to show who I really am.
Well, who the hell am I?
“I’m s-sorry, Jonathan.” I say, my voice shaking. “There’s been a change of plan. I’m staying here.”
My director blinks hard. “You sure? Because Moira made it sound like—”
“I know how she made it sound,” I say quickly. “Sh-she overreacts sometimes. I’m staying.” My whole body is shaking now. I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve never defied her this way, and it feels like the earth is going to open up and swallow me whole at any second.
Jonathan frowns in concern. He eyes Beau warily and steps closer to me. “Are you sure? Will you be safe?”
“She’ll be safe,” Beau says, closing the distance between us. “I’ll make certain of it.”
Jonathan eyes Beau like he’s a criminal but doesn’t respond to him. He looks at me, cocking his head in Beau’s direction. “You’re okay with this guy?”
A smile—a real one—comes out of nowhere. “Yeah. Yeah, Jonathan. I’m okay with him.” Nothing could be more true. For the first time all morning, I feel like I can take a full breath. “I’m really sorry for the trouble.”
I watch his shoulders ease, and my smile grows. Jonathan’s a good guy. He’s really looking out for my welfare.
I’m so glad I’m not going to take advantage of him.
He nods. “Okay. Call if you need something. Stay safe,” he says and then turns to Beau. “You make sure of it, Beau…” Jonathan draws out Beau’s name, begging the question.
“Landry,” Beau supplies, more warmth in his tone now than when he shook Jonathan’s hand a moment ago. “And I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”
Jonathan nods again and cuts his gaze back to me. “I’ll be in touch. Hope to see you Monday.” And then he’s deploying his umbrella and bracing his lanky frame against the buffeting rain.
Beau and I stand on the porch and watch the Lexus back onto Cherry Street. I feel Beau’s presence like a roaring fireplace beside me, but we don’t touch. It’s only after Jonathan pulls away that I find the courage to look up at him.
“You don’t have to stay, you know,” I say, my voice barely audible above the storm.
Beau’s glower is as thunderous as the hurricane. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growls.
I swallow. Nod. “O-Okay. Yeah,” I squeak. “Good. Let’s… go inside.” Because I’m not awkward at all. Not when the guy I like just pledged to protect me during a natural disaster. I’m smooth like Metamucil.
Beau shakes his head. “You go in. I have to secure anything out here the wind could pick up.”
I scan the front porch. The wicker furniture. The plant stands and macrame hanging baskets. The bird feeders and wind chimes and sun catchers. I gape at Beau. “How much of it could the wind pick up?”
He shrugs. “If it’s bad? All of it.” He takes off into the rain. I chase after him.
“I’m helping you!” I shout as raindrops—more like needles—pelt me sideways. “Shit!” The stinging assault steals my breath.
