Jehovah

Chapter Two

Connor settled himself at the raised counter in the kitchen while Jo attempted to fix something for dinner. He could tell by the smell emanating from the kitchen that she was struggling and now had a better understanding of what Clark had said before he left. She had turned on an alternative rock station and was nodding her head in rhythm to the music, while she attempted not to burn the meat in the skillet or ruin the vegetables in the steamer.

"You've got good taste in music,' Connor commented as an aroma of well-done meat filled the kitchen. "Are you sure you don't want help with that?"

"I've got it, thanks. Lately, I've been listening to a lot of Sinatra, so this station is a nice change."

"You have eclectic taste."

"I have a classical education in almost all subjects, but my mother liked music."

Connor merely sat back and waited until the contents of the skillet were a smoky, charred mess and the smoke alarm sounded before he finally stepped in.

"Give me that," he said as he calmly walked up to her and gently shifted her out of his way. Connor set the skillet in the sink and with two hands on her upper arms, he steered her to the chair he had just occupied and waited until she was seated. Jo looked slightly bemused but did not say anything. She did notice that he did not flinch when his fingers grazed over her scars, but instead acted like they were not even there. It was a relief to know that he was not going to make a big deal out of it, and they could move past it. Connor poured her a glass of water, set it in front of her, and then attempted to salvage dinner. Unfortunately, there was nothing to recover. The chicken was crispy, and the vegetables were soggy.

"Wow...I'd say that cooking is not your forte, Doc."

"Eh...I have my faults same as anyone. You probably have a girlfriend who is a domestic goddess."

Connor chuckled but did not reply as he scrapped the burnt good into the garbage can.

"What? No girlfriend or she can't cook either?"

"I'm not really the settle-down type of guy, Doc."

"Why doesn't that surprise me," Josie said with a scoff.

"What," Connor said, feigning innocence as he opened the fridge.

"I've been around enough Marine Recon guys to know...you've probably got a girl in every port."

"Well, not every port," Connor said smugly as he turned to her with a grin. Josie just shook rolled her eyes and changed the subject before he decided to question her own love life.

"So, I take it you were raised in Louisiana?"

While Connor found the makings for sandwiches in the fridge, he explained where he grew up. He would have been surprised to know that Josie missed about half of the conversation. She had started listening intently, but the tattoo on his forearms had distracted her. Connor had pushed the sleeves up on his shirt to reveal extensive ink on both forearms but also making his upper arms look well-defined. A fleeting thought ran through Josie's mind, wondering if the rest of his upper body was in as good shape before she pushed it out of her mind and looked down at her hands momentarily. It was clear Connor worked out, and yes, he was attractive, but Josie needed to keep her mind on the prize. Getting distracted by the good looks she had missed seven years ago could wind up getting both of them killed. Besides, as he had just said, he was not the bring home to meet the family type. It was Connor's voice that brought her out of her internal musings.