Sweet Soul (Sweet Home #5)(35)

Twelve seconds.

Damn torture until I could see her again… and maybe hold her hand.



*



I knocked on Elsie’s bedroom door, and waited for her to answer. I’d had about two hours of sleep by the time I finally closed my eyes, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have traded the time spent reading and rereading her poem for all that I had.

With every word read, she could see only him… She counted the days until he returned home…

These lines, these two lines had my head spinning. I’d put the poem in my drawer, keeping it safe—I’d never be throwing it away.

Elsie’s door suddenly opened. I opened my mouth to say “Hi” but my voice was lost the minute the silent girl was framed by the doorway.

My eyes fell over how she looked, and I was dumbstruck—skinny blue jeans, a white cami top with a cute pink sweater hugging her slim frame. She wore black leather ankle boots on her feet, and held a fitted padded black jacket in her hands. But it was her hair that had me staring the most, or rather how she wore it. Her hair was back in a French braid, small silver heart earrings dangling in her ears. She always looked beautiful, but she looked even more beautiful because all her hair was off her face. Her pretty face was revealed for me to savor, no longer hidden behind the curtain of blond strands that normally shielded her from the world, concealing her shyness.

Then my heart swelled when I thought that I could be the reason she was no longer hiding. That I could be the one that had helped her step out of the dark.

Invisible to all, a shade wandering in dark… He brought back her faith, with his pure kind heart…

As those lines played in my head, I realized I’d been standing here silently staring. Elsie was motionless as she watched me watch her. Stepping forward, I bravely ran my finger down her soft cheek. A blush bloomed in its wake, and I whispered, “You’re real pretty, Elsie.”

Elsie’s eyes widened; I’d shocked her with my words. I fought my instinct to remove my hand and dip my head. But after what she had given me, after the poem she had written for me, I kept my head raised and showed conviction in my expression. I may have been shaking with nerves inside, but this girl deserved to hear how beautiful I really thought she was.

Elsie glanced down to her clothes, and meeting my eyes again, mouthed, “Lexi.”

I nodded in understanding. “Lexi bought them for you.”

Elsie nodded her head and pressed her hand over her heart—she was thankful.

Boldly reaching for that hand, I clasped it in mine, beaming inside when Elsie smiled the widest of smiles at our touch. “You ready?” I asked, my voice husky in its sound. She nodded her head. I could see the excitement on her face, an excitement that was already coursing through me.

Leading her down the stairs and into the foyer, I quickly released her hand. “You’ll need that jacket, it’s pretty cold outside.”

Elsie slipped on her jacket, but before she did, I took hold of the zipper, wrapping her up all warm. I heard her quick inhale of breath as my fingers past over her chest, but I ignored it and drew back, retaking her hand in mine.

“Let’s go,” I said and led Elsie to my Jeep. Nothing was said as we made our way into the city, but this silence wasn’t uncomfortable. The only discomfort I felt came from my not knowing how to tell her that I loved the poem, from how much her words meant to me. No one had ever done anything like that for me before—given words as a gift.

The radio played country as we arrived near Pike Place. As Amos Lee sang about “Black River”, Elsie stared out of the window, her searching eyes trying to take everything in.

Parking the Jeep, I got out, walking round to her side to help her out. The wind blew around us, so I took her now-gloved hand and held it in mine. “Original Starbucks,” I announced, then I led her down to Pike Place Market, the smell of fish and salty air immediately surrounding us.

We walked down the street, tourists already filling the road, then we arrived at our first stop. I pointed at the small coffee shop, the scents of the hot coffee filling our noses. “The original store,” I said, and pointed to the large sign above. Elsie smiled up at me and I asked, “You want a coffee? Kinda think we should seen as though we’re here.”

She nodded her head and joined the line inside. I got her a coffee with cream and no sugar. We walked as we drank our coffee. We walked hand in hand until we reached a dock.

I could see Elsie looking all around us, until she looked at me with a furrowed brow. Almost on cue, a boat sounded its horn and began approaching us. Elsie’s hand tightened in mine and I declared, “What better way to see Seattle than by boat.” Elsie swallowed as the boat approached. “You ever been on a boat?” Elsie shook her head.

“You’ll like it,” I said, and prayed to God that I wasn’t messing up this date.

The first date either of us had ever been on.





Chapter Nine


Elsie


It felt like a dream. Every part of this day felt like a dream. The boat, the walking hand in hand, and all because of Levi.

Hours and hours passed and Levi walked me around the city. We ate chowder sitting on a bench overlooking the Sound, and now we were standing at the top of the Space Needle, which overlooked the great city of Seattle.

Levi stood behind me as I drank in the panoramic view. My hands were on the safety rail and Levi shadowed me, his muscled arms on either side of the rail and his hard chest pressed against my back.