“Why don’t you work as a nurse anymore?”
“Just wasn’t what I felt like doing when we moved.”My tone is clipped, and with how intuitive he seems to be, I know Garrison picked up on it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Smile through it.Turning, I plaster what I hope is a natural-looking smile on my face.“No apology necessary.I’m just tired.It’s been a day.”
Garrison nods.“Same here.Thanks again for dinner.I fully plan to return the favor as soon as I can.”He pushes to his feet, his movements labored, given the soreness he’s likely battling.That, coupled with his still-healing lungs, I imagine he’s about ready to fall over.
“Can I do anything else for you?”I ask, fighting the urge to rush over and steady him when he places a hand on the wall.
“Nah, I can manage.Thanks, though.If you leave the crockpot, I can wash it and get it back to you.It’s the least I can do.”
“Nope.Not a chance, Mr.Holt.”I lift it and head for the door.“If you need me, you know how to find me.”
“I do,” he replies as he follows me toward the door.I don’t miss the way he lingers close to the wall, likely to reach out and steady himself should he need to.“Thank you, Katelyn.I seriously cannot tell you how much I appreciate everything.”
“Stop thanking me.I am the reason for your healing setback after all.”
He laughs softly.“If it meant getting to know you better, I’d let you pepper-spray me all over again.”
I swallow hard, his words a punch of desire to my gut.Even though his tone and expression are light enough that he likely meant nothing by it.
“Yeah, well, let’s not do that again.Have a good night, Garrison.”
“You, too, Katelyn.”
He lingers near the door even as I make my way over to mine.And when I set the crockpot down and unlock my door, I risk a glance over at him only to find him still watching.
Garrison raises a hand to wave, so I return the gesture before picking up the crockpot and heading into my apartment.
I set the small appliance down on my entry table and lock my door, then lean back against it and run both hands over my face as the image of Garrison, freshly showered, leaning against his door jamb, fills my mind.
Lettinganyoneclose is a risk.Especially when that ‘anyone’ is an incredibly handsome, well-trained Navy SEAL who also happens to be a counselor.How many of my secrets could I accidentally spill if I got too comfortable around him?
Distance.
That’s what I need to put between us.
Distance is safe.
Walls are good.
Otherwise, who knows what could happen?