JennyMatt's bedroom door opened with a quiet snitch of a hinge, and I stilled. I'd left my door open because I hated enclosed spaces, especially while asleep and defenseless. I hoped the light or my movements hadn't woken him. He didn't move for several beats, and then his footsteps padded on the hardwood floor.As he came into view, my heart pounded. Stupid, but it was my visceral reaction to him every time. Twelve years and it hadn't evaporated. Especially when he wore nothing but a pair of black nylon shorts and an uncertain expression. He stopped in the hallway outside my door and sighed, not meeting my gaze. He gripped both sides of the doorframe, leaning into his hands. Head hung, he stared at his feet. I took in his lean, athletic build while he wasn't paying attention. My panties grew damp, but that wasn't unusual around him either. He was so damn beautiful. Not rugged or built. No edges or bulges. He was subtly sculpted as if created from stone. Slight ridges of a six pac

JennyDecember-Six Years AgoI've never been so scared in all my life. Not even the time Jared had hurt me, nor the day I'd discovered my mother dead on the bathroom floor with a needle in her arm. Worry twisted in my belly and my hands wouldn't quit shaking. Pacing in the apartment over the bar, I took a few deep breaths, but my attempt at calm wasn't working.The past year, I'd been noticing subtle changes in Grampy. Little things. Him forgetting where he'd left his keys, putting milk in the cabinet instead of the fridge, and once he'd called me my mom's name. I'd chalked them up to him being distracted or just normal aging, but the other day had been an eye opener.He'd driven to the liquor supplier and had forgotten how to get home. If it hadn't been for one of our distributors finding him in the parking lot, lost, Lord knew what might've happened. Thinking he had a virus or something, I'd taken him to the ER. But when our doctor had called today with the results they'd run and

MattI lay in bed, the quiet so loud it was an entity. Jenny and I had connected my electronics, but I wasn't interested in what played on my flat screen on the dresser across the room. My gaze skimmed over what she'd referred to as an accent wall. Painted burgundy, it held two large black and white prints of exterior park staircases. She'd left the rest of the walls white, like we'd done in the living room. Color without being obtrusive. Hell, she'd even found a dark red bedspread to match. Brown candles for the dresser.Rising, I padded into the adjoining bathroom and surveyed my surroundings. She'd been a little work horse. I'd seen her changes when I'd showered after she'd left, but I couldn't stop wandering around. Partly because of the changes and mostly because her absence from my house after a week in close proximity felt like a void. I'd gotten used to having her here. A few hours, and I missed her something fierce.She'd turned my parents' summer vacation house into my home.

MattI took in her flushed cheeks and wanted to haul her against me, make her flush for entirely different reasons. Christ, she was gorgeous. And seriously. What was wrong with me? Damn it. Get a grip. "What was that all about? The numbers?"She shrugged. "How many songs they'll sing. Friday night is open mic night. The customers love it. We have quite a few talents among us. Blows off steam, too.""Jen-Jen. He's set." Rock kicked a chair over to her and cut the sound system.Which reminded me. "Jen-Jen?""Grampy's nickname for me. No one calls me Jenny but the Seasmoke crew." She glanced at Rock, then the stage. Using the chair as a step, she climbed on the bar top with the grace of a cougar and walked the length as catcalls rang out. "Y'all ready?" She laughed at the cheers. "Give it up for Deiter!"Deiter strung a couple notes on a guitar and smiled as the crowd chanted his name. After a moment, the room quieted and the guy on stage began playing.Jenny hopped down and moved the cha

JennyApril - Four Years AgoHe'd come. Again, when I'd needed him the most, Matt had come. What had started as a frustrated Skype chat about Grampy's fading memory and how he'd been wandering out of the apartment, resulted in Matt instilling a three-day weekend to drive down.After two hours in town, he'd taken charge, calling our attorney and getting papers in order while Grampy still had links to sanity. Winter's Den was now officially mine, the bills transferred to my name, and a power of attorney was in place for healthcare and financial. I had a sinking feeling we'd need to invoke that last bit soon, and my stomach knotted.When we'd first been given the diagnosis, I'd tried to have Grampy to get this stuff under wraps. But days turned into weeks, then months, and three years passed in a blink. Every tick of the clock had brought him further and further from reality. Matt had fixed the legal end of my concerns. He'd had a private chat with Grampy during a lucid chunk of time and