You're My Home (completed)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Rachel said a lot of things to the gorgeous sleeping man on her couch. If he heard the string of insults she threw at him, she would have blushed to her roots.

She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. It was not going to be easy to move him while he was basically still naked. She'd planned to send him to the police station or to her friend Matt's house. Despite Collin's plea to stay with her, Rachel couldn't very well honor it.

She took a step forward again and put her mouth close to his ear. Ignoring the fragrant smell his shoulder length hair exuded, Rachel yelled, "Wake up!"

A light snore escaped Collin.

Rachel dug her fingers into her wet hair. "Ugh!"

She was exhausted, cold, had a ton of questions, and was not at all liking the way Collin made her heart feel. The storm outside was growing restless. Thunder shook the earth, and the wind increased with intensity.

"You have to wake up!" Her palms pressed against his damp chest and she shook him. But having his muscles beneath her touch only made things worse for her hammering pulse.

She was wrong. This guy was no model. He was built for a fight. If anything, there was a lean highland warrior in her living room.

Rachel scowled at him and all his perfection. Guys with faces like his were always jerks who prided themselves on having a different girlfriend every couple weeks. Collin, no doubt, had had his fair share of girlfriends. Rachel hated guys like that.

She kicked him in the shin so hard that it should have made him howl in pain. But instead, Rachel was the one doubling over. As her bare foot throbbed, Rachel decided to give the truck one last try. This time she was prepared for the weather. Wearing a poncho, she ventured outside. Rain slashed at her face, and her hair went in all directions. The seat was still slippery from when she'd climbed in before. Her efforts to start the engine were unfortunately unsuccessful.

Rachel hopped out and rounded the front of the beat-up truck. She then proceeded to relieve her frustration by kicking one of the tires repeatedly with her uninjured foot. The image of Collin came to mind as she did this, causing her vigor to spike.

Swallowing a few deep breaths of cold air, she trudged back inside. Her glare sent daggers at Collin. He hadn't moved an inch.

The door was difficult to close against the wind, but after using all her upper body strength, it slammed shut. She checked her cell phone and was not surprised to see there was no signal. Rachel marched around the trailer and filled her arms with valuables. Her back arched backward a little as she carried the large load to her bedroom. She set everything carefully in a pile, and then made one more trip.

Once she was sure everything worth stealing was in her bedroom, she put her dad's t-shirt that she usually slept in and her biggest pair of stretchy pants on the kitchen table. She then wrote, for you, on a sticky note and slapped it on the folded shirt.

***

The next morning Rachel awoke to the smell of bacon. As she rolled to her side with a tired groan, her partially damp hair slapped her cheek. She put a hand to it and brushed it off. She then recalled the night's events in a blur.

Collin. That one word made her stomach clench with anticipation.

Rachel dragged herself out of bed. Her heart was more awake than ever, but her groggy mind and body weren't as alert. She eyed her reflection and patted down the mess of hair that sat on top of her head. Her eyes drooped with sleep, and she didn't wear a lick of makeup. But, if Collin had been a part of her wild imagination, or some phantom being, or even a common thief, he was sure to be gone.

Rachel pushed at the dresser she'd propped against the locked door as a precaution. Though with muscles like Collin's, she guessed he could have easily gotten in if he'd wanted to. This, oddly enough, didn't scare her as much as it impressed her.

"Good morning," the warrior-like giant said when Rachel spied him from behind the cracked open door.

She grabbed her knife and put it in her sweater pocket. When she emerged into the kitchen, her eyes were drawn back to Collin who was studying her. She briefly wondered if he'd asked a question and she hadn't heard it. Her blood didn't seem to know if it should blush or not.

"What?" she asked.

"Good morning!" He smiled a little, and the sight of it almost made her sigh.

"Oh. Morning...uh...what're you still doing here?"

He looked picture perfect wearing her stretchy pants and no shirt. His shoulder blades rippled as he moved to flip the bacon. His hair was unkempt, but attractive as ever—dry now and beach blonde. Standing straight, he was much taller than Rachel had thought.

"Making breakfast," he said, sucking a dab of grease off his thumb.

Her brow was raised high. After a second of contemplation, she said with a question in her voice, "Thanks?"

Collin pointed to the table. "Have a seat."

She was slow to obey. "I'm assuming you're feeling better? No need for the hospital?"

He didn't look at her, but she heard the smile in his tone. "No need. I am feeling much better, yes. I got quite a bit of sleep. I liked it. Dreams are so strange."

"Right...well, I'm glad you slept. That makes one of us." Her stomach grumbled loudly from the delicious smells.

"I'm sorry to hear that you didn't rest well," he said, sounding like he meant it.

Rachel glanced around the room to see if anything was missing. Collin saw her doing this and said, "I hope you don't mind that I cleaned the place up a bit."

"You sure did. You really didn't have to..."

"I wanted to." His smile lit up his face as he set the plate of food in front of her.

"Wow. You didn't have to do this either."

Collin took the seat across from her. He extended his hand in her direction. "Shall we pray?" he asked.

Rachel closed her mouth which was eager and ready to receive the bite of egg on her fork. She licked her lips and put the fork on the plate. Surprise made her keep her eyes open while the shirtless man prayed. She gave him her hand, and his larger hand enfolded hers.

"Dear Lord," Collin said, his head bowed. "Thank you for providing us with this bountiful meal. Bless it to Rachel's body and let it strengthen her for the day to come. Thank you for sending me into her home. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of serving her as best I can since she has treated me with such kindness. I ask that you do provide the memories I'm lacking. In your heavenly Son's name, I pray...amen."

Rachel had been staring, and she knew it. Collin didn't let her hand go. He reclined a little in his seat and looked at her with those large blue eyes.

"So you're a Christian?" she asked, befuddled.

"If by that you mean I'm a follower of Christ and a believer of the holy Word, then yes, ma'am, I am."

Rachel blinked back the image of all the young girls who would be trying to get his attention if he were to go to her old church. She hadn't been there in a while. Rachel cleared her throat and mentally stuffed that thought in a far corner of her mind.

"Uh...my hand?" She pointed with her eyes to her hand which he still held.

Collin followed her gaze and then met her eyes again. "Yes?"

"Can I have it back now, please?" The heat from his skin was pulsing up her fingertips. If he would have been forceful about keeping their hands locked together, Rachel secretly wouldn't have complained much.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does that bother you?"

"Yeah," Rachel lied. "It's weird."

Collin nodded. "I suppose you're right. Until we remember how we know each other, I guess we should try to keep our distance."

He slid his hand away. Keeping a distance sounded like a plan made to be broken.