“Sort him? Mr. W …” I stop talking when he holds up one weathered hand.
“I know what it looks like to look into someone’s eyes and see a pain so deep it radiates with so much strength you almost feel their hurt yourself. I know what it’s like to see that pain hidden, concealed, and locked away to fester over the years. I know, sweet girl, what it is like to have ghosts and nightmares chasing your coattails. When he gets around you and that precious girl, and you see hope trying real hard to douse the flames of those nightmares. You two soothe the pain behind there … just like my Rachel did for me.”
I don’t know what to say, stealing a glance at where Drew and Riley are. His hand’s held over the board, ready to make his next move, but his eyes are on me. There’s distance from where he’s sitting by the front window and where we are closer to the counter, but I don’t miss the very shadows that Mr. W talks about. They’re never far from the surface. That is, unless he’s with just Riley and me. He has no way of knowing what we’re discussing, but nevertheless, it’s almost as if he can sense the change in me from across the room. I give him a small smile, but it’s enough for him to look back at Riley.
Goodness me.
That was intense.
I speechlessly look back into Mr. W’s very knowing eyes.
“He wouldn’t hurt me,” I whisper.
“He wouldn’t intentionally, you’re right.”
“He wouldn’t hurt her,” I continue.
“Now that, sweet girl, I have no doubt because you would shield her before he even had a chance.”
Grace walks over and pulls out the seat. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” She starts fussing over Mr. W before he can answer. He swats her hands away when she gets close to his hidden bottle. “I know it’s there, you ridiculous man.”
“Then you won’t mind filling me up a refill,” he replies instantly. “Might as well shake a tail feather.”
“Oh, I’ll shake something.” She grabs his bottle and shakes her finger in his face. “You will make me gray before I’m old enough to be gray.”
His deep rumble of laughter follows. “Hurry up, little one, so you can get your nosy self back to ask more questions.”
She ignores him and looks over at me. “You okay? Looked like this was getting intense.” She turns long enough to narrow her eyes at Mr. W before the concern returns to her face.
His words are still ping-ponging around my thoughts. I have seen the darkness drape over his eyes a few times in the past months. I have seen them a lot less than before he and I started … when he was just a silent customer I felt an instant connection to. I see the care and compassion he has for Riley and me much more often than I see those shadows. Like every day he’s with us, they’re slayed a little more. I would be lying, though, if I said it didn’t bother me. I just don’t know what to do about it.
“I’m okay, really.”
“You remember what I said?” he interjects.
“You know I do,” I answered him, still looking at Grace.
“They’re almost gone, sweet girl. Still there, but they’re not as strong as they were. You have the power, just as my Rachel did over mine. I meant what I said, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t get through it, and you both be better for it. You can give him something strong enough to put an end to that pain. Just got to weather the storm, hold tight, and be the person he is for you, for him.”
I have to blink quickly to keep the burn behind my eyes when I see the love behind his words, trying to keep them from turning into tears.
Goodness, I love this man.
He’s the father I always wished I had.
“Pete,” Grace says, using his first name to ensure she has his attention. “What are you up to?”
“Hush, you.” He doesn’t look away, not until I feel a presence directly behind me. His eyes go up from my face and don’t look away from where they land for a heavy beat. I don’t turn around, but when he looks back down at me, whatever he was about to say is gone. His expression changes, his eyes holding mine. “Yeah, you’ll be good, sweet girl.”
Riley skips over a second later and hugs him, breaking the moment. “Want to play chess with me?”
“Why?” he grumbles. “So you can take an old man’s money?”
Her giggles break the moment, and it’s only then do I turn to look up at Drew. The intensity in his eyes has a small gasp escaping my mouth before I can stop it. It’s not loud enough to be audible to those around us, but I know he didn’t miss it. I see the shadows Mr. W is referring to, but I also see something that looks a lot like love dancing in there with them, directed right at me.
I stand quietly and grab his hand. Riley sits in the other empty chair and works on setting up the chess board she brought with her from where she had been playing with Drew. A quick look at Grace tells me she’s watching over the two of them. I give her a nod and a small smile, then start walking. He doesn’t resist, falling in step behind me until we cross the threshold to my office and the door is shut.
We stand there, both of us breathing a little quicker than we should be after just walking a few feet. His gaze searches mine, and mine searches his. We don’t close the distance as our hearts do the silent talking.
He moves first. His hands frame my face, eyes still dancing with questions. I reach up and place my hands on his waist.
Still, we don’t speak.
I’m not even sure how we moved without me noticing it, too wrapped up in what his eyes are trying to tell me. I don’t know that I’ve ever spent this much time just looking into his eyes, but it’s because of our intense stare down that I notice something else. That and maybe the overhead lights.
“You wear contacts?” I whisper lamely.
I wasn’t expecting the flash of panic to wash over his face, gone just as quickly as it was there.
He doesn’t speak.
“Drew?”
Panic bleeding into pain flashes.
“What’s wrong?” I try again.
“Why did you look like that when you were talking to him?” he says, not answering and changing the subject.
“Like what?” I ask sincerely, giving him that.
“Like you had just been punched in the gut.”
My hands trail up his hard chest, and we shift to get a little closer. My fingers dance across the skin on his neck, and I glance down just in time to see the goose bumps before they fade.
I look back up and don’t break eye contact again.
“It was nothing, honey. We were just chatting.”
“He didn’t look at me just then like it was nothing.”
I sigh, dropping my gaze to his chest.
“What?” he tries again. “I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” I mutter, and I feel those four words hit him, each one like a shot.
“Olivia, where is this coming from?” he asks, lifting my face up with a soft touch to my chin so he can look into my eyes.
“He’s protective of us. He’s also not stupid and can see there’s something big growing between us. With everything he’s done, lived, and survived, he was coming to me with his concerns and advice.”