“I made it,” I agree and turn to the woman who must be Jenna’s sister. I stick out a hand to the raven-haired beauty with blue eyes—the exact opposite of her sister’s golden coloring, from her hair to her skin to her eyes. “You must be Emory. Nice to meet you.”
Emory stands from where she was squatting beside Baden, and we shake. “So great to meet you too. We appreciate your help.”
We don’t bother with small talk. Baden and I get to work unloading the truck, using our considerable strength to work our way through the contents. There wasn’t a lot of furniture. Just a bedroom set with a bed, dresser, and two nightstands, and a couch, which was indeed a bitch to get up those stairs. The rest were boxes of clothes and kitchenware—much of it newly bought in Arizona and loaded onto the truck to save her from needing to shop here. Baden explained the bedroom set and couch were from Emory’s house, and Jenna bought additional living room furniture online that will be delivered in a few weeks.
Until then, the only other furnishings are a folding card table with two metal chairs. Spartan living for sure, but I’m sure she’ll have a nice home set up soon.
Baden and I head down for the last round of boxes from the truck while the Holland sisters work to unpack the mountain of ones we’ve already unloaded.
Before we grab the last stack, I stop him with a hand on his shoulder. “Need to ask you something.”
Baden turns to face me. “What’s up?”
“I’m pretty sure I offended Jenna when I got here,” I say, bothered that I’ve been here almost two hours, and she won’t look at or engage with me at all. I explain what happened when I arrived. “I swear, man… I didn’t give any outward reaction to the scars. My eyes just sort of flicked there and then right back again, but she totally withdrew after that.”
“Yeah… I noticed she was acting shy around you.”
“She won’t even meet my eyes,” I grumble in frustration. “You know I’d never intentionally do something to hurt—”
Baden stops me with a soft punch to my shoulder. “Don’t even go there, dude. Jenna’s an amazing woman, and I adore her, but I also know the type of man you are. I know you’d never do anything to make someone feel bad about themselves.”
“I need to fix it,” I reply, determined to set things straight.
“You didn’t break anything,” Baden points out, and I appreciate his efforts to make me feel better. “She’s had a lot of trauma in her life, and it’s made her sensitive.”
I’ve been called a sensitive guy before, a moniker I don’t mind, and the squeeze of heart muscles proves it. “I have a feeling you’re talking about more than her scarring.”
“She was in a bad fire. She’s got a lot more scars than what little you can see—emotional and physical. She’s had a hard time putting herself out there because a lot of people abandoned her during her recovery. So it’s more than just what you see on the outside.”
I hold up my hand, indicating he should stop. I don’t want him sharing confidences that aren’t his to tell. I also don’t need to hear more to know, without a doubt, I must let her know I didn’t intend any harm when I looked at her scars.
“Arrange for me to have a few minutes alone with her,” I say as I help him pull the last two boxes off the truck.
He nods and picks up the stack by himself. “Stay here. I’ll send her down.”
I lean against the side of the truck, hands tucked into my pockets, and within no more than thirty seconds, Jenna is coming out the door with the truck keys in hand. She manages to look at me as I push off the truck but holds out the keys, as if she wants to dump them and run in the opposite direction. “Baden said you needed the keys so you could move the truck away from the hydrant.”
I take them from her, not willing to let her know this was a setup so I could get some time alone.
Jenna starts to head back inside, but I call out, “Wait.”
She stops but turns only partway and to the left to look back at me. It’s habitual—I can tell—clearly intended to keep the unmarred portion of her face in my view.
I don’t know this woman at all, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again after today, but I know I’m not going to take the easy way out. I’m not going to let her either.
I step onto the sidewalk and move around her, so she’s forced to face me. I’m pleased to see she doesn’t hesitate to tip her head back to meet my eyes, and I think that’s her courage shining through.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I first walked in,” I say.
She flushes, but holds my gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do,” I admonish kindly. “You’ve been withdrawn since we met, and I can pinpoint the exact moment. It’s when I caught sight of the scars on your jaw.” Pointedly, I look at them again, and she reaches to her turtleneck to pull it up.
Without thinking, I catch her hand and hold it in mine.
Pulling it down, I say, “Don’t hide.”
She blinks at me in surprise, but I can feel her relax. I let her hand fall from my grip.
“Sorry. Habit, I guess,” she mutters.
“I can understand that,” I reply with a smile. “But honest to God, Jenna, that’s not what first caught my attention. It was your eyes and the way the light hit them that shocked me more than your scars. So yeah… my gaze might have dropped to your jaw as I was taking you in, but if you think back… they went right back up to your eyes. They are captivating.”
She tilts her head, eyebrows drawn slightly inward with obvious skepticism.
“If I made you uncomfortable about the scars, it was unintentional. I’d like to tell you they’re hardly noticeable, but that would be a lie.” Jenna flinches, but I’m not done. “What I will tell you as truth is that while they are noticeable, they are not what first captured my attention or held it. Your eyes completely outshine the scars.”
Like a wide-eyed owl, she blinks at me as if she’s never been paid a compliment. And I could absolutely go on because she’s a stunning woman. Her face is gorgeous, with high cheekbones, full lips, and golden hair that flows for miles in silky layers. Her skin is sun-kissed, like she grew up with the sun always shining down on her.
But it’s mostly her eyes that are hard to look away from.
Finally, her expression softens, and she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it bother me.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I assure her.
“Actually, I do,” she says with a deep sigh. “I’m working hard to put myself out there and give humanity a chance to be real with me. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I can see you’re a nice guy.”
“I’m a totally nice guy,” I say, spreading my arms out. “And now you can say you made your first friend in Pittsburgh.”
Jenna sticks her hand out and smiles. “It’s very nice to meet you, Gage.”
I again take her hand, soft and delicate. “Nice to meet you, too, Jenna. And if you ever catch me staring at you, be assured it’s totally your eyes that have my attention.”