The Girl from the Ouachita, Ch.2
No sex between persons under 18; you should read chapter 1 first. It ends like this:
He wanted to tell her the truth, but there was a good chance she would react badly and he didn't want her to leave. He gave her a big smile and sung, "you ain't bad for a country girl, all tight in your faded jeans."
"Are you flirting with me, Mr. Alexander?" she asked with faux disbelief, hand over her heart like the southern belle whose persona she assumed at will.
He chuckled, "No, Miss Kennedy, merely rendering an informed opinion."
****
They went to bed soon after Jo called him out on his weak attempt to flirt, and they both fell into the kind of deep sleep that engenders dreams. His dreams were confused, and confusing and contradictory when he examined them early the next morning.
He lay there, considering the conflicting feelings he had for the young blonde who suddenly haunted his dreams. The desire to protect and nurture her was still the powerful force it had become that fateful night, but his attraction to her had grown much more powerful.
Lying in bed thinking about her wasn't productive, so he was up at 6:30, making coffee and rattling around, opening and shutting cabinets, trying to find things they put up last night so he could cook breakfast.
She stumbled into the kitchen rubbing her eyes; her hair was tousled, she wore an oversized white Hot Springs Trojans football jersey with black and gold numerals and trim, and white socks. Somehow, she managed to look particularly adorable.
"Why are you up so early making so much noise? I thought you didn't have to work today?" she asked sleepily.
"It's not early -- it's nearly seven! And I didn't say I don't have to work: I do, but I'm working here, setting up my office.
"Sorry about the noise; I didn't think you'd hear me through the closed door, and I had to dig around to find the skillets and pot I wanted."
"Stop being so cheerful and energetic and give me some coffee" she murmured through pouty lips.
"Not a morning person, I see." She made a guttural sound of agreement mixed with exasperation.
He handed her the cup of coffee, a pack of Sugar Twin, and the bottle of Skinny French Vanilla Cinnamon coffee flavoring she bought last night. "Need anything else for your coffee, Princess?"
"You tease me at your own risk before I have a cup of coffee," she muttered, and took a sip.
Chris turned back to his breakfast prep; paused, and asked, "I'm fixing myself scrambled eggs, sausage patties, grits, and biscuits; would you like some?" She would: two of each. He shook his head at her hunger and metabolism; how she could eat so much and stay so tiny was yet another Jo conundrum.
Between bites, she complimented him on the delicious breakfast, her words verified by the little sounds of delight she made when she first tasted each item. He enjoyed watching and hearing her more than eating his food, and the food was good.
She helped him clean up the kitchen, chattering happily about the meal, how good the new tableware looked, and what a good job they did of organizing things. He filed that for future reference: give her coffee and food before starting conversations.
He could have sat in the kitchen drinking coffee and listening to her happy voice all morning, but she was ready to tackle his new office, which was actually the smallest of the bedrooms. A chest of drawers and a double bed took up most of the room, so Chris moved the chest of drawers into the closet and the bed into the northwest corner along the wall. That freed two-thirds of the room for other use.
He retrieved his office chair and glass top computer desk with matching table from storage, and they reassembled them in the open space he'd created. She ragged on him about the conglomeration of cords and chargers he needed for his personal laptop, the company laptop, the printer/scanner/fax, his iPad, his iPhone, and the company Android phone.
He added a wireless keypad and mouse, set up the WiFi, and enabled the Bluetooth speakers. The surfaces of the computer desk and table were cluttered, but neatly cluttered.
She shook her head at him, "Do you have to have ALL the latest toys?"
"Hey! I'll have you know my phone is so old it's eligible for upgrade, and my iPad is a full generation behind. I admit my laptop is brand new, but I got it for a great price on a Cyber Monday sale!"
She pulled an old iPhone out of the back pocket of her jeans, held it up, and said, "Yours is a XS; mine is a 6S, but it works just fine!"
He laughed, but then grew serious and asked, "Do you have a laptop for school?"
She looked away. "No, but I understand the school has some."
"My other Dell is in its box in the closet. It was top-of-the-line when I bought it last year. I've already moved everything off it and backed it up to a hard drive. If you think it would fit your needs, we could update it, increase the memory, and install whatever you need for school. Wanna do that?"
"Chris... you're... I can't keep taking your charity! I'm not some helpless little girl you have to take care of all the time!"
"Jo, I have a perfectly good laptop computer stored in the closet; I have no use for it. I guess I can recycle it, but I'd rather give it to someone who can use it. No strings attached!"
She sighed loudly, forced a smile, and said, "Thank you, Kind Sir; I can take that off your hands and use it. I suppose that's kind of like recycling it."