He suddenly grabbed her like he always did once he got close to her. She provoked him to relax. He wrapped his arms around her and tightly pulled her against him. She was higher, kneeling on the bed, and he buried his face into her chest. She stared down and smiled. He looked like a little boy grabbing his mother for a hug. His face pressed into the material of her shirt and his breath felt warm. She dropped her hand to the top of his head and started stroking the silky strands of his hair. He gulped a shuddering breath. This could have been the only time she observed his raw vulnerability.
After a while, she said, “It’s getting close to you needing to tell me more about what you call your personal expectations and why seeing me goes against them so much. Why it’s so hard for you. You have to explain it without claiming it’s your job. If you want to continue to see me, you’ll have to start trusting me. Talking to me. Acknowledging me.”
His hands circled her, gripping the material of her shirt in his fists. “Don’t… don’t give up on me. Not yet. I’m trying very hard. I’m… really trying.”
Trying what? She almost shrieked. To talk to her? Accept her as someone he truly wanted? Get used to more sex? Or was he really into self-loathing for it? What exactly? And why couldn’t he just tell her?
A desperate grip pressed her against him, making it real. Like Jim didn’t mean to clutch her so tightly, but right then, she was all that kept him together.
She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. “I haven’t begun to fight you. Or give up on you. You didn’t choose me because I’m a shy, shrinking violet, Jim Zavarian.”
He took in a deep breath. What? What made him react so passionately to Kayla? Her words? Her tone? The kiss?
“Maybe you and I could go to the church and look around. Let me get acclimated to it again.”
Wow. A concession.
“Good. I think it might help if you face it. And then we’ll talk about Sunday, okay? It’s a few days off yet.”
“I’ll go, sure. Meet you there at say… eight? Bring your guards though.”
She sighed. All business again. “I will.”
He rose and left but she stared after the shut door, feeling confounded. What in the hell just happened? And where should she go from there?
Chapter 9
EVERYTHING JIM DID BORDERED on being wrong. He wasn’t good at relationships, which he demonstrated with Kathy—and now? He really didn’t know how to refer to Kayla but seemed to insert his foot in his mouth every time he opened it. He worried she would leave him for his inept crassness.
But here she was, right now, charging through the church doors, looking for him. Guards trailed her, entering the church and taking their positions at all exits. Jim ignored them. No more mistakes of getting friendly with them. None were like Eric.
He took her hand, surprising her but feeling so grateful for her presence. Her face was pale and tightly drawn and he almost smacked himself in the head for his selfishness. Her nerves regarding this place were just as raw as his. She witnessed the same event. At least the bullets were not aimed at her. Jim shuddered at the feeling it always evoked: helplessness. His breathing and heart rate rapidly began to increase.
“I’m nervous,” Kayla stated openly before taking his hand. He held her and clasped her fingers tightly.
“Me too.” It was liberating to admit the truth.
“Should we just go ahead and walk in there? Rip off the Band-Aid, even though we both know it’s so much more than that?”
“Maybe that would be the best way.”
She turned and faced the doors, which were kept closed nowadays, and nodded. They both stared as if they were facing an enemy firing squad. Neither of them moved. He gulped. “I really don’t want to go inside there.”
She squeezed his fingers more tightly in hers. “It’s healing. Remember? We’ll be better in the end for it.”
“You don’t have to go in there again. Why are you doing this?”
She simply looked up at him and her gaze was simple and sweet. “For you.”
Right. For him. The guilt nearly ripped him in two. She wasn’t anything like he used to assume. She was so much better than him. Unspeakably so.
He held her hand and nodded. “Thank you.” It wasn’t enough, but all he could manage for now.
Gripping each other’s hands, they entered the double doors together. She was squeezing his hand and he held his breath, waiting for the terrible images to revisit him. The pops of the gun, the sight of Eric flying through the air before falling. The loud thud of his large body. Screaming, yelling, people scrambling, and trying to avoid the older patrons who could not move out of the way.
The room looked completely different. Now there was dark wood flooring and deep navy blue walls, in contrast to before when the walls were gray and the floors were tile. The altar was completely revamped. All the pews were gone and replaced by individual seats that were set in a new configuration. A single, central, extra-wide aisle now dominated the room, making it more easily exited in case of another emergency. Before, the two shorter rows of pews were on each side, and the aisle was too narrow because a wide line of pews occupied the center.
The new aisle led to the few stairs that surrounded the altar; and behind that were rows of new risers that were added for the choir.
“Wow. They didn’t skimp on anything. It looks entirely different.”
“Yeah, I guess it does. I didn’t realize they were ditching all the pews. It changes the whole ambience.”
“I
