Chapter Twenty-Five

“Oh my, God,” Calee exclaims. “This is your house? You live here?”

“The house belonged to my family,” I say. “And yeah, I live here.”

We finished the last leg of our trip that morning. I'm a little stiff and sore from being behind the wheel since about sunup, but it had taken a little less time than I'd expected it to, which is a good thing. I drop my bag next to the door and the keys on the small table in the entryway.

She walks around the ground floor, her eyes wide, an awed expression on her face. I look around, trying to see what the big deal is. It's a house. My parents, although they were absolutely loaded and given to some of the trappings of the privileged – country club memberships, exotic vacations now and then – they never went in for the huge, ostentatious mansions favored by some. For the most part, my folks were pretty down to earth and relatively frugal for their income bracket.

Yeah, it's a decently-sized house – seven bedrooms, six bathrooms, three floors – but it's not enormous.

The best selling point of the house, to me, is the fact that I can open up the back doors, walk the five feet, and have my toes in the sand of the Pacific Ocean. As a kid, I spent more time on that beach than I can even remember. I love the ocean. It calms and soothes me like little else in this world.

I walk her around through the great room, the dining room, and even the kitchen. She takes it all in like she's looking at a museum or some high-quality piece of art. Done mostly in dark woods and earthy tones, it's nicely decorated, I'll admit that.

“This place is amazing,” she says.

I shrug. “It's okay, yeah,” I say. “It's home.”

“I – I've never seen a house this nice before,” she says, her voice still tinged with awe. “Let alone, set foot in one.”

“Well, I suppose now you're going to have to get used to living in one,” I say.

She turns to me, eyes wide. “A – are you kidding me?”

I laugh out loud. “Where did you think you were going to be living?”

She suddenly draws inward a little and the light in her face begins to dim. I don't have to be a psychic to know what's going through her mind. It hadn't gone particularly well the last time she lived with a man and I'm reasonably sure she's remembering all of that.

“Don't worry,” I say. “The house is big enough that we can go for days without seeing each other. The entire third floor hasn't been used in – I don't even know how long, to be honest. It's yours. The whole floor. After my mom had a stroke, they did a little remodeling and that's where her live-in nurse stayed, so there's a small kitchen, bathroom, and outdoor deck up there. It should be comfortable enough for you.”

Calee looks up at me and the light in her eyes begins to shine again. The smile creeps back across her face and she quickly clamps her hands over her mouth.

“I don't even know what to say,” she says. “Or tell you how grateful I am.”

“You don't need to,” I say and shrug. “And besides, it might be nice to have some company in the house sometimes.”

She looks through the great room to the floor-to-ceiling windows that give us a view of the ocean. I didn't think her smile could grow any wider or the light in her eyes could shine any brighter, but they do. She stares at the view in silence for a few moments, absorbing it.

“Is that the ocean?” she finally asks.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

“I never thought I'd actually see it,” she says, her voice soft. “I mean, I dreamed about it. Wanted to. But never thought I'd actually get to see it.”

“Well, how about we go and touch it?”

She looks at me, the expression on her face that of a child on Christmas morning. “C – can we?”

I nod and smile. “Of course, we can.”

I take her hand and lead her through the great room, then unlock the back doors, slide them open, and we're both immediately treated to a flood of sensory sensation. The cool ocean breeze, tinged with the smell and taste of salt, rushes in. The sound of the waves crashing and the plaintive cries of the seagulls overhead fill the room.

We stand for a moment, just taking it in. I look at Calee and see her eyes sparkling, the expression of awe and wonder on her face are priceless. Bending down, I take off my shoes and roll up my pant legs.

“You might want to take your boots off too,” I say. “You want the full beach experience, don't you?”

She giggles and quickly strips her boots off, rolling her pants up like I had. With that done, I take her hand again and lead her down the short flight of steps and to the back gate. Holding it open, I escort her through and then we're on the sand, walking down to the edge of the sea.

“Nothing like the feeling of sand between your toes, huh?” I say.

“It's so soft,” she says. “I never imagined it would be so soft.”

The day is warm, but not unpleasantly so. There's a breeze coming off the ocean that keeps the temperature down. I let go of her hand and watch Calee shuffling through the sand, awed by the feel of it on her feet. There's a soft slope leading down to the water's edge and I sit myself down on it as Calee heads for the water.

She approaches is slowly, almost as if she's afraid of it. A small wave crashes, sending a rush of foamy water up the sand. I laugh as she squeals when the water hits her feet, washing up around her ankles. Calee turns to me, smiling and laughing, the breeze blowing through her long, dark hair, and the sun almost making her porcelain colored skin glow – and I don't know that I've ever seen a more beautiful sight.

Shaking my head, I try to banish the thought from my mind. I chastise myself for even having allowed that thought to pop into my brain. I remind myself why she's here – and what she escaped from. The last thing she needs is for somebody like me to start coming on to her.

The train of thought though, stops me in my tracks. Coming on to her? The most beautiful thing I've ever seen? Where did those thoughts even come from? Yeah, she was an attractive girl, but that's not why I brought her out here. That's not why I've been helping her. She'd looked so lost and empty the first time I laid eyes on her, and that's what compelled me. That's what drew me to her.

I've been helping her because she needed help and it was the right thing to do. No more and no less. And yet, there I am, acting like an idiot with a crush.

I push all those thoughts out of my head and lock them down. The last thing she needs – hell, the last thing I need – is to let those ridiculous feelings I shouldn't even be having to begin with, run rampant. Left unchecked, just like any disease, they can spread, multiply, and become unmanageable.

Calee bounds up the short slope to where I'm sitting, her face absolutely radiant.

“You should do that more often,” I say.

“What's that?”

“Smile,” I reply. “It really makes you glow. It looks good on you.”

I see her cheeks flare with color and she looks away before seemingly forcing her eyes back to mine.

“Well, it seems like I have a lot more reason to now,” she says. “This is amazing, Eric. The water is so cool and the sand is so soft – this is like heaven.”

I laugh and nod. “I've always been partial to the ocean too,” I say. “My folks always had a hard time getting me out of the water.”

She cocks her head. “Where are your folks?”

“Passed away a few years back,” I say. “My mom didn't end up living very long after her stroke. Dad went not all that long after her.”

Her face falls and is creased with sadness. “I'm sorry,” she says. “I didn't know.”

I give her a warm smile. “How could you have known?” I reply. “And it's okay. It was a while ago. Time heals all wounds and all that.”

There's an awkward moment of silence between us, the air saturated with the taste of salt and the sound of the waves thundering as they break. It's been a long, but good day and the last thing I want is for the mood to grow somber.

“So?” I ask. “What do you think? Think you can handle living here?”

She looks at the house beyond me and then turns and stares at the ocean behind her – her face automatically lighting up again.

“This place is magical,” she says. “I think I can be very happy here.”

“Good to hear,” I say. “How about this? Why don't we go get cleaned up, get a little bit of rest – give you some time to check out your new digs – and we'll meet back up for some dinner in a little while?”

“I – I'd like that.”

“Good, it's settled then,” I say. “Let's head back up to the house.”

We walk back to the house, using the outdoor shower – which charmingly enough, seems to delight her – to wash off our feet. After that, I show her upstairs and leave her to it. I walk back downstairs to my office and make a few calls before I head to my room to shower and sack out for a couple of hours.