Paradise Falls (Paradise Falls #1-5)(11)

Stop that. You’re being silly.

Jennifer lingered a bit after locking the door. At any moment, Rachel would probably find her walking down the hallway and demand to drive her home.

Rachel didn’t show up. Jennifer stared out the doors, then resigned herself to a soaking wet ride in the stifling jacket. She pushed open the door, and jumped at the sound of Jacob’s voice.

“Need a ride?”

There he was, behind her. He was a quiet one.

“My bike—“

“I have a bike rack. Come on, you’ll get soaked.”

Jennifer weighed the options of riding home in the rain or the Aston Martin. She ignored the chafing wedding band and picked the Aston Martin.

He rolled her bike around to the back, pulled a bike rack out of the trunk, then attached it to the tow hitch. She pulled the door shut with a soft clap, fearing she’d damage the intricate stitched leather seat. He dropped in beside her and handed her a towel. Jacob wiped down his head and arms with another one. Jennifer clutched her bag to her chest, pushed her hood back, and winced at the drops pattering on the seat.

His shoulder brushed hers. There wasn’t room on the arm rest until he put both hands on the wheel and rolled his shoulders. The new car smell mingled with the leathery scent of his cologne.

Jacob slipped the car into gear. “We should go to the police,” he said.

She looked out the window. “There’s no point.”

“Elliot… I mean, that man put his hands on you.”

Jennifer sighed at the hopeless situation. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I know what will happen to me if I make the senator’s son look bad.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Nevermind. There’s nothing I can do. I tried.”

“There’s a state police barracks not far from here.”

“They won’t help, either. Who’s going to arrest Senator Katzenberg’s son?”

Jacob’s hands tightened on the wheel, and the leather creaked. He peered through the windshield wipers. “You know, I don’t actually know where I’m going.”

“Just go straight up the hill. It’s the white duplex on the left, with all the junk on the porch.”

“Every house here has junk on the porch.”

Jennifer snorted. It was a short trip by car, less than five minutes. She looked out the window. “We’re here.”

He drove past the house, made a sharp three point turn, and then guided the car to the sidewalk. The rain slowed its drumming on the roof. Steam rose from the sidewalks and the air was heavy with humidity. Jacob got out and unlocked her bike from the rack.

“Okay then,” he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

Don’t let him go!

“Wait,” Jennifer said. “I didn’t mean to brush you off, earlier. Come inside and towel off at least. I’ll get you something. A drink,” she added, hastily. “This way.”

She took the bike by the handlebars but Jacob insisted on rolling it up the front walk. He hung it on the rack where she showed him, and kept his distance as she fished out her keys. Jennifer unlocked the deadbolt, stepped inside, and beckoned him to enter.

The outdated décor and clutter embarrassed her. “It’s not much.”

Jacob ducked to pass underneath the low lintel, and Jennifer closed the door behind him. He stepped into her cramped living room with the air of a kid waiting to be confronted by his prom date’s father. Jennifer shook out her jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. She flinched at Franklin’s picture.

What are you doing?

“What are you wishing for?” said Jacob.

“Excuse me?”

Gingerly, grasping the ‘beak’ by two fingers, he lifted one of the origami cranes from her crafting table. She had over a hundred of them scattered around the duplex, in her classroom, and a few in various coat and jacket pockets.

“You know the story of the thousand paper cranes,” she said.

“I’ve heard it.”

She shrugged. “I don’t really wish for anything. It’s just a way to busy my hands. Sometimes I make them while I read, or grade papers.”

He pulled the elastic holding together his ponytail and his wet hair draped around his shoulders. Jennifer scrambled to find him a towel. It had been so long since she actually washed dishes that dust fell off the one by the sink. She found a clean one in a drawer.

Her stomach fluttered when he looked at her, and it was a feeling so old, it took her a moment to recognize it. She broke from his gaze, desperately hoping the heat on her cheeks was from exhaustion, and that she wasn’t blushing. She stepped past him into the kitchen and pulled out one of the old wooden chairs from her grandmother’s table for him.

Jacob sat down.“This is kind of small. The table, I mean.”

“That was the ‘kids table’ at my grandmother’s house,” Jennifer said. “Tea? I don’t drink coffee.”

“Please.”

She set a teacup full of water in the microwave and turned it on. The inside light threw its harsh glow into the gloomy kitchen. She flicked on the overhead light and the ceiling fan lazily turned. The house was warm because the rattling air conditioner in the upstairs bedroom couldn’t keep up.