Port in the Storm by Mary Crawford

Author:Mary Crawford
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781945637384
Publisher: Diversity Ink
Published: 2019-09-02T04:00:00+00:00

Taylor brushes my hair back from my eyes. “Why are you so embarrassed? I think you’re handsome.”

“If I told you, I’d be even more embarrassed,” I admit as I feel my face grow hot under her fingers.

She traces a scar with her thumbnail. “What happened here?”

I flinch at the memory. “When I was in the fourth grade, I lost my balance and bumped into the wall at my grandma’s house and a picture fell and the glass cut my face.”

Taylor winces in sympathy. “That must’ve hurt. It makes you look rugged though.”

“Thanks … I think. I’m not sure anybody’s ever noticed before.”

“Really? None of your other girlfriends have said anything about your gorgeous eyes?”

I close my eyes out of sheer embarrassment.

“Honestly, I don’t do a lot of dating. I’m kind of a nerdy guy. I’m kind of the guy people go out with to scare off guys they’re not interested in. My friend, Jessica from work, used to hang out with me just for fun, but I was never her serious boyfriend or anything. So, all this is really strange territory for me.”

“Huh…” Taylor says before she leans down and kisses me. “The girls you hang out with must be both blind and stupid. You are one of the coolest guys I’ve hung out with in a long time.”

I gaze up at her beautiful smile and flashing dimples. “Okay, turnabout is fair play. It’s been a long time since you broke up with your creepy fiancé. Who have you been dating?”

Taylor sighs. “Nobody much. Every once in a while somebody sets me up on a blind date. But most of the time I try to avoid dating like it’s a plague. You can’t blame me, my luck has been abysmal at best.”

I snicker. “I can't disagree with you. If I'd gone through what you went through, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to find the strength to get out of bed.” I shift around and sit up so I can face her. It takes me much longer than I’m comfortable with — and there’s nothing graceful about it. I feel like a turtle who has been knocked over on his back in hot asphalt. There is definitely nothing sexy about my moves. Fortunately, Taylor doesn’t seem to even notice. She simply helps me sit up and waits for me to catch my breath so I can continue the conversation.

Facing her, I ask, “So, what do you call what’s going on between us?”

Taylor swallows hard. “Do we have to call it anything?”

My heart pounds and blood rushes in my ears as I contemplate what her words might mean.

“I suppose not,” I whisper in a hoarse voice, unable to keep my sadness from leaking through.

Taylor watches my expression with alarm.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean that the way I think you took it. I just meant this is like a dream. I never want to wake up. At some point I’ll have to go back to my real life — and for the first time ever I’d rather not.

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