need to worry, no excitement here. He scratched his chin, casual-like and told her it had happened a couple weeks back. Immediately Crimson snapped her focus from the wreck itself to the reason behind allowing the fence to remain unrepaired for so long. She knew that wasn’t normal for him. After he explained Billy’s reasoning, Josiah gave her a much-needed dose of confidence. He told her he thought she was strong enough to handle it. Then he quickly stepped out of the truck, leaving her no choice but to follow him.
They worked for several hours and Josiah could feel her eyes on him like a physical touch. Like her small, gentle fingers were grazing over his back, his neck, his shoulders. Tension was building. Josiah felt explosive. He tried working off that extra energy through the job he was performing, but he could still feel her eyes on him. He wanted his hands on her. He just didn’t know if she was ready yet. Yes, Crimson had made great strides. She was no longer the walking dead. She was alive, but was she alive enough to handle him? That he didn’t know yet, so he’d have to rein it in and wait.
Finally, when Josiah couldn’t take the tension any longer, when he’d been contemplating throwing down the post-hole digger, pushing her up against that truck, and taking her mouth with his, he simply asked her, “What’s up?” If he was going to control himself, she was going to need to redirect her thoughts, or at least her eyes.
And then suddenly she was telling him everything. All her pain, all her fears, all her worries. Josiah already knew the gist of what she was sharing with him from Billy, but he was relieved that she was now able to articulate her own feelings in all this, and that she trusted him enough to open up about it.
Josiah let her talk. He didn’t interrupt, he didn’t question; he just let her get it all out. As she talked, he continued working; the only comments he made were instructions to her for the work they were doing. After she finished talking, he saw her shoulders lift as that burden left her, and then after a few more minutes she sagged again, anticipating his reaction, his horror at the truth of her life. While Crimson’s past was a painful and confusing one, it wasn’t the worst he’d heard or experienced, so he just kept working.
Crimson was helping him hold the wire as he stretched it tightly and nailed it off. All of a sudden it began slipping through her grip; Josiah moved swiftly to assist her. A loose wire can be dangerous; he’d seen people cut up pretty bad from a snapped line as it rebounded back. He took a firm hold of the loosening wire, one arm on either side of her, and there she was, her little body pressed up against him. He could feel her against his chest; his arms were nearly around her, and it felt so dang right. She belonged there and he never wanted to let her go. As he inhaled, her lemon, vanilla, and sunshine scent twisted his gut with need and desire. And then she’d begun to relax into him, to accept him. He could see the flutter of her eyes, hear the catch in her breath, feel the softening in her stance.
Josiah knew if they didn’t pull it together right then, he’d be lost. “Tighten that down some, Crimson, or we’re gonna have a serious problem here,” he warned her.
He had to nudge her arm gently to get a reaction out of her. It was like she’d just melted and melded into him.
Once Crimson became aware of her surroundings again, of what they were doing, she took a firmer grip on the wire, and in doing so pulled away from him. Josiah, relieved and frustrated at the same time, quickly stepped back. He nailed the wire down as fast as he could then turned to the truck, in desperate need of ice water. A shower would have been ideal, but he’d have to settle for the water bottles sitting in the small ice chest. He tossed one to Crimson, and they both took a moment to collect themselves. He leaned against the truck and watched her as she
They worked for several hours and Josiah could feel her eyes on him like a physical touch. Like her small, gentle fingers were grazing over his back, his neck, his shoulders. Tension was building. Josiah felt explosive. He tried working off that extra energy through the job he was performing, but he could still feel her eyes on him. He wanted his hands on her. He just didn’t know if she was ready yet. Yes, Crimson had made great strides. She was no longer the walking dead. She was alive, but was she alive enough to handle him? That he didn’t know yet, so he’d have to rein it in and wait.
Finally, when Josiah couldn’t take the tension any longer, when he’d been contemplating throwing down the post-hole digger, pushing her up against that truck, and taking her mouth with his, he simply asked her, “What’s up?” If he was going to control himself, she was going to need to redirect her thoughts, or at least her eyes.
And then suddenly she was telling him everything. All her pain, all her fears, all her worries. Josiah already knew the gist of what she was sharing with him from Billy, but he was relieved that she was now able to articulate her own feelings in all this, and that she trusted him enough to open up about it.
Josiah let her talk. He didn’t interrupt, he didn’t question; he just let her get it all out. As she talked, he continued working; the only comments he made were instructions to her for the work they were doing. After she finished talking, he saw her shoulders lift as that burden left her, and then after a few more minutes she sagged again, anticipating his reaction, his horror at the truth of her life. While Crimson’s past was a painful and confusing one, it wasn’t the worst he’d heard or experienced, so he just kept working.
Crimson was helping him hold the wire as he stretched it tightly and nailed it off. All of a sudden it began slipping through her grip; Josiah moved swiftly to assist her. A loose wire can be dangerous; he’d seen people cut up pretty bad from a snapped line as it rebounded back. He took a firm hold of the loosening wire, one arm on either side of her, and there she was, her little body pressed up against him. He could feel her against his chest; his arms were nearly around her, and it felt so dang right. She belonged there and he never wanted to let her go. As he inhaled, her lemon, vanilla, and sunshine scent twisted his gut with need and desire. And then she’d begun to relax into him, to accept him. He could see the flutter of her eyes, hear the catch in her breath, feel the softening in her stance.
Josiah knew if they didn’t pull it together right then, he’d be lost. “Tighten that down some, Crimson, or we’re gonna have a serious problem here,” he warned her.
He had to nudge her arm gently to get a reaction out of her. It was like she’d just melted and melded into him.
Once Crimson became aware of her surroundings again, of what they were doing, she took a firmer grip on the wire, and in doing so pulled away from him. Josiah, relieved and frustrated at the same time, quickly stepped back. He nailed the wire down as fast as he could then turned to the truck, in desperate need of ice water. A shower would have been ideal, but he’d have to settle for the water bottles sitting in the small ice chest. He tossed one to Crimson, and they both took a moment to collect themselves. He leaned against the truck and watched her as she
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