Chapter 39
[ 551 words ]
Chapter 39:
Caroline’s heart stopped. The blood drained from her face. Her mind instantly flashed back to the last time she saw him—rushing out of her parents’ house, summoned by a terrifying, highest-level military emergency alert. What was he doing here? Was the emergency over? Was the mission resolved, or was the threat following him directly to her parents’ doorstep? The playing cards she had just picked up slipped from her numb fingers and scattered across the carpet.
Heavy, measured footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor of the hallway.
Jarrod walked into the living room.
He brought the storm in with him. His black overcoat was damp, the shoulders speckled with raindrops. The cold, crisp scent of rain and cedarwood instantly overpowered the smell of her mother’s vanilla candles.
He stopped at the edge of the carpet. His stormy gray eyes swept over the room and instantly locked onto Caroline.
р𝘰р𝗎𝗹а𝗋 𝘴𝗍𝗈𝗋𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝗈𝘯 g𝖺𝗅ոo𝘷𝖾𝗅s.𝖼𝘰𝗆
He saw her sitting on the floor in her oversized pajamas, her hair messy, her eyes wide with shock.
The dark, violent tension that had been radiating from his body since he left the Romero estate suddenly fractured. The hard lines of his jaw softened. A slow, almost imperceptible exhale escaped his lips, as if he had been holding his breath for hours and had finally found oxygen.
Mr. Thompson scrambled up from the sofa, nearly knocking over the coffee table in his haste. “Jarrod! Sir! What a pleasant surprise. Please, sit down.”
Jarrod unbuttoned his damp overcoat with his left hand. Mrs. Thompson practically sprinted over to take it from him, treating the fabric like it was woven from gold.
“Thank you, Mrs. Thompson,” Jarrod said, his voice a low, smooth rumble.
Instead of taking the empty armchair, Jarrod walked directly toward Caroline.
He didn’t hesitate. He lowered his massive frame and sat down right on the carpet, crossing his long legs, positioning himself less than a foot away from her left side.
His sheer physical size immediately overwhelmed the small space. His broad shoulder brushed against her arm. The heat radiating from his body was intense, seeping through her thin cotton t-shirt.
Caroline’s breath hitched. She instinctively scooted an inch to the right, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
Jarrod glanced down at the scattered cards and the small pile of quarters on the carpet. He raised a dark eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing in his eyes.
“Texas Hold’em?” Jarrod asked, looking up at Mr. Thompson. “Do you mind if I buy in?”
Mr. Thompson looked terrified and thrilled at the same time. “Of course! But, uh, we’re only playing for quarters and dollar bills, Jarrod. It’s just a silly family game.”
Mrs. Thompson rushed back in. “Richard, go get the checkbook! We can’t have the Colonel playing for pocket change!”
“No need,” Jarrod interrupted smoothly. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a sleek, silver money clip. He peeled off three crisp hundred-dollar bills and tossed them onto the carpet next to Caroline’s pile of quarters. “Just give me whatever chips that buys.”
Caroline stared at the money, her jaw tight. He was invading her safe space, turning her simple family night into another display of his overwhelming power.
Mr. Thompson nervously dealt the cards.
Caroline picked up her hand. A pair of Jacks. A strong starting hand. She glanced at Jarrod out of the corner of her eye.
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