Page 37 of Inexplicable

I started to lift the huge pan of lasagna to put it in the oven, but Brock gently nudged me aside and lifted it easily with his good arm and some support from his right hand.

“You shouldn’t be doing that yet,” I scolded as I opened the oven door.

“I’m fine, Jenna,” he answered. “I’m not lifting anything heavy or doing anything strenuous with my arm, and using it seems to return more of the feeling to it every day.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I closed the oven door.

Brock was getting better.

Honestly, other than cooking, he hadn’t really needed much help. He managed most of his daily tasks one-handed.

Mostly, we’d just kept each other company while we were recovering.

“I should probably book my flight home,” I said, trying to keep my voice upbeat, even though going home right now felt more than a little sad.

I’d enjoyed my brief time here in Cherry Cove.

I liked the calm peacefulness of the small town, but mostly I was going to miss sharing my days with Brock.

“Stay,” Brock requested in a husky voice as he handed me my wine. “Stay because you want to, not because you think I need help. You could use more healing time, and I’d like to show you around Northern Michigan now that I’m getting the use of my arm back.”

“Why?” I asked, my heart racing.

God, I wanted to stay more than I’d wanted anything in a very long time.

I didn’t want to leave the happiness and contentment I’d found here, and I felt safe here with Brock and his friends in Cherry Cove.

I’d been telling myself for a week now that my anxiety about what had happened in Mexico would go away, but it hadn’t.

I didn’t want to go back to my empty house in Los Angeles, and I definitely didn’t want to be parted from Brock so damn soon.

He moved closer and brushed the back of his hand down my cheek. I sucked in a breath because he was touching my scar, but it didn’t seem to faze him one bit. He never seemed to notice or care about my scars, which always amazed me.

How could he not find them unattractive?

How did he caress them without a second thought?

“I want to spend more time with you, Jenna,” he said in a persuasive baritone. “I want us to get to know each other better. Haven’t you ever done anything just because it’s enjoyable? Or are you just sick of my company?”

I took a healthy sip of my wine before I replied, “Honestly, I haven’t done anything just for myself in a long time. And I’m not sick of your company. I’d love to stay longer, but I have responsibilities. I need to start on my book and I have to get back to my blogging.”

They were excuses, but maybe I wanted to give him one last chance to change his mind.

“I need to write, too,” he considered. “But I’ve learned to combine work with play to balance my life.”

My heart ached to learn the same thing.

So much of my life had been all about school, work, and furthering my career.

I had to wonder if keeping really busy had been a remedy for my loneliness.

I looked up at him and almost got lost in his gorgeous eyes. “I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

My heart skipped a beat as he answered huskily, “You have a very willing teacher standing in front of you right now. I’ll happily teach you how to stay successful but sane.”

Longing swelled up in my soul.

Dammit! I wanted some kind of life.