N. Walters - Touch of Topaz

John’s back was turned to her when she entered the kitchen, but she didn’t for one minute think he didn’t know she was there. She studied his competent movements, the way he poured hot water and stirred the contents into the mugs. The man did so many things well he sometimes could be intimidating to be around. But Topaz knew that beneath his hard exterior was a man of great substance.

As he worked, the gray long-sleeved knit shirt he wore clung to his broad shoulders and emphasized the size of his biceps. He set the spoon in the sink, turned and handed her one of the mugs.

“Thanks.” She took a sip, disconcerted by the unease that slid through her. It belatedly occurred to her that she’d always felt relaxed around John, not having to watch her words or behave in a certain manner. She’d always been herself around him and the silences had always been comfortable ones. Until now.

“You’re welcome.” He used the pad of this thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth. “You’ve got some here.”

She felt the light touch all the way to her toes and took a step back. “Ah, thanks.”

John sighed. “You know, I’m not going to jump you again. You don’t have to decide what you want to do about our relationship right this moment.” His exasperation was evident and it made her smile.

“First of all, the jumping was mutual.” No way did she want him to think any differently. “And are you sure you want a relationship with me? I seem to frustrate you quite a bit.”

That got her a chuckle and a smile. “That’s the God’s truth.” He touched her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her skin, making it tingle. “But you’re worth it.”

Topaz wasn’t quite sure how to take his answer and chose to store it away to think about at a later time. She held her mug tight in her hands, enjoying the way the heat seeped into her skin. She wouldn’t say anything to John, but she really was chilled to the bone from their walk in the woods.

She wandered into the living room area and sat in the corner of the sofa, pulling her legs up close to her body to conserve heat. John followed her and set his mug down on the coffee table. “You’re cold.” His words were almost accusing and angry, and she immediately knew he was blaming himself.

“I’m fine. Just a little chilly is all.”

He ignored her, grabbed the box of matches from the mantle and crouched in front of the fireplace. He lit a match and set it to the kindling. The fire crackled and caught the logs. When he was satisfied with the growing blaze, he set the screen in front and joined her on the sofa.

He grasped her by the waist and tugged her until she was curled up in his arms. His warmth surrounded her. It was nice to sit in front of a cheerful fire with John, neither of them speaking. The silence wasn’t strained, wasn’t completely comfortable either, but somewhere in-between.

He ran his hand absently up and down her arm, all the while staring into the flames. She rested her head against his shoulder, her mind whirling with the possibilities. Could they make a long-term relationship work?

“Stop thinking,” he admonished her. “Just enjoy the rest of the day. We’ll head back to the city in the morning and take things from there.”

He knew her so well. It constantly surprised her just how in tune he was with her moods. And it shouldn’t. He was right about one thing. They had lived together for several weeks last summer and again this winter. They might not have been sleeping together but they had been sharing a living space. He’d seen into all aspects of her life, but she knew very little about what he did and how he lived when he was away from her.

“What’s your life like?” If they were to have any chance at a relationship, she needed to know more about him. “When you’re not being my bodyguard,” she clarified.

John rubbed his chin against the top of her head. “I work, I eat, I exercise and keep my skills up.”

She gave him a mock punch in the stomach. He reached down, caught her fist in his hand and brought it to his lips. “That tells me exactly nothing,” she protested.

He sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Do you live alone or do you and Jake share a place? What’s it like having a twin brother? Where are your parents?” It appalled her to realize she didn’t already know the answers to these questions. She’d really been self-centered during their time together. Of course, he’d been her bodyguard, not her best friend, but still.

“Jake and I own a four-apartment brownstone. We each have our own place and rent the two other units.” He shifted slightly, and she moved so she could watch him while he spoke.

His face was more rugged than handsome, with his strong, stubborn jaw and high forehead. But it suited him. His eyes were like blue lasers, seeing everything in one sweep of a room. That gaze was pinned on her now.

“Our parents were killed in a car accident when we were six and we went to live with our granddad—Bernard Knight. He’d spent most of his life in the Army. Grandma died of cancer before we were even born. So there he was with two rambunctious six-year-olds to raise.”

She could easily picture two blond-headed boys in stained shirts and ripped jeans. They would have been a handful and then some. “I’d say it was a challenge for all of you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it was. He was strict, but fair. We lived in Brooklyn and he worked at a garage. He kept us off the streets and out of trouble until we joined the Army.”

“He must have been proud of you both.” What grandfather wouldn’t be proud of such brave, wonderful men? She didn’t know Jake nearly as well as she did John, but she couldn’t imagine him being much different in his core values. Sapphire liked him and that was enough for Topaz to know he had to be a good man. Her sister had a keen nose for sniffing out phonies.

“I guess. He expected us to make something out of our lives.” John’s hand squeezed her hip, kneading her curve before floating back up to her waist.

“Is he still alive?”

John snorted. “Oh yeah. He’s eighty-two years old and still lives in the apartment in Brooklyn. Jake and I wanted him to move into one of the apartments in our building, but he informed us he liked where he was living and was staying. Stubborn old goat,” John muttered.

Topaz couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter. “Takes one to know one,” she managed to get out between bouts of laughter.

A slow smile curved his lips. “You think I’m stubborn?”

She pressed her finger into the slight cleft in his chin. “I know you are.”

“Honey, I’m positively laid-back compared to Granddad.”

“I’ve got to meet him.” He sounded like a fascinating man and she’d bet he could tell her all kinds of stories about John when he was a boy.

John’s arms tightened around her. “I’d like that.”

It was only after she’d said it she realized that spoke of them having some kind of a future together, at least in the short-term. She nodded but said nothing more, not wanting to commit herself further, not yet. Still, she wanted to meet the man who had such a hand in rearing such a wonderful man like John.

“What about you? What was it like growing up in the Jewel family?”

They’d talked about her family some. More the facts than how she actually felt about it. “In many ways it was the perfect childhood.” She sighed and rested her head on John’s shoulder once again.

“But not always?” he countered.

“No, not always. There were always photographers and reporters hanging around outside the family estate hoping to get a shot or a story, especially when we were younger. We couldn’t go outside the gates without at least one of them chasing us.”