dibs (28 page)

“Step-mother,” I added. Damn her for doing this to him. I wanted the handcuff unlocked. I wanted to go to him. But none of that explained why he didn’t tell me. I could only watch this strong, controlling man steady his breathing as he agonizingly worked through this.

“Because I was seen as a sexual deviant, they placed my sister in a different foster home. The one I was placed in is where I met Blake.” His voice was soft. He didn’t look at me. I was glad. I wanted to hear it all, but I was afraid if he saw my tears that he would stop talking.

“I had my cell phone. The women, most of them, still contacted me. I was 16—almost 17—And now they were paying
me
to have sex. Hell, I thought it was awesome at the time. I introduced Blake to that world. By the time, we’d graduated from high school, been released from the custody of the state, I thought I was the shit.”

My tears continued to flow as I pictured what had happened to him.

“The wheels of fate had already started to turn. I went to college, got an MBA, and started a business in the only thing I knew how to do.”

Hearing his version of how things happened made it seem not as bad. Finally, his glossy eyed gaze found mine. The moment he looked at me, a painful expression shot across his face.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Sam. Don’t!” he gritted. Emotion crept into his voice.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” I lied, my tears contradicting my words.

“I’ll be honest,” Mac whispered. “Business has been good—great. As we began to build a solid clientele, we became very exclusive. Women will pay a lot of money to feel special, wanted.”

I could relate to that.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“The girls on the ship. You had relationships with them?”

“No. I’ve never had a
relationship
. I’ve never wanted one.”

“Then, why did they seem jealous?”

“A couple of them were clients. They paid for my attention. They hoped for more.”

I simply nodded. He was everything a man should be…who wouldn’t want more? They all hoped to be the one to snag him. And here he stood, baring his soul to me in my bedroom.

“And your sister?”

As soon as the words were spoken, I regretted it. His face crumbled first, then his body crumpled into the wall. With a grimace of overwhelming pain, his back slid down the wall like the littlest of boys curling up.

“Mac…” I whispered, but it didn’t pull him from his misery. Something awful had happened. I could feel it. As he sat in a massive heap on the floor with his elbows resting on his knees and his palms grinding into his eyes, I knew he silently wept. I felt it in my bones.

With intentional force, I clanged my bound hand against the iron bedpost jarring him from his trance. His pain-laden eyes darted up to mine.

“Unlock me, please…” I begged, my own voice cracking.

Reluctantly, he stood, crammed his hand into his pocket and strode over to me. With the key in his fingers, he gently lifted my hand and unlocked the cuff. Using the back of his hand, he quickly swiped down his face, erasing any evidence of tears.

“Come here,” I whispered. He knelt on the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight. Hesitation rested in his eyes.

“She killed herself, Sam,” he cried out when our arms grasped onto each other in a tight embrace.

I knew it. “I’m so sorry, Mac,” I wept, burying my face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

If there was one thing I understood about this man, it was the fact that he was just that…a man. A strong man who struggled with emotion. There was no way I’d force him to look at me or talk. I’d simply hold him indefinitely until he was ready.

When I stirred, opening my eyes, the blackness in the room was overwhelming. Immediately, I sensed Mac breathing next to me. There was no indication of daylight. The effects of the alcohol had left a small ache behind my left eye.

“You ok?” he asked. His voice was heavy with sleep but his arms tightened around me. I didn’t know he was awake.

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“I need you to be ok, Mac.”

His chest expanded with his sharp intake of breath. It was as if God knew not to have a moon tonight. The darkness was welcome.

“You and Blake are the only two who know about her.”

I kissed his neck.

“Tell me, Mac.

“It was awful.”

My head rested at the base of his throat, and I felt his Adams apple jut out and back in.

“I honestly don’t know what happened. It was about nine months after we were placed in foster care. I saw her changing. On our weekly visits, I saw it happening.” Regret tinged his tone. “I told her to be strong. When I was 18, I’d get her back. We’d be together again. I promised her I’d take care of things.”

The crippling guilt this man had carried around for years broke my heart.

“I still have her ashes,” he whispered. “I’ve held onto them all these years.”

“What would she have wanted to have happen to them?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What did she love, Mac? Tell me about her.”

“I don’t know. I’ve fought hard to forget her.”

Immediately, I rose up on my elbow. My eyes adjusted to the darkness a bit, and I could see the orbits of his eyes.

“Mac. Listen to me. Fight hard to remember her. Not to forget,” I whispered, dropping a kiss between his eyes.

“Remembering is hard.”

“No, baby,” I said, brushing the back of my fingers over his cheeks. “It hurts to heal. It hurts to remember…but you have to do that to deal with it and move forward. Let me help you.”

He sucked in a ragged breath and whispered, “Ok.”

The smell of bacon wafted through the air, pulling me from sleep. The sun crashed through the open blinds, making me squint. I was in Sam’s bed and the entire night flashed back through my mind. I released the deepest of breaths. My past. The relief was freeing… All of it was out there now.

I chuckled to myself. I’d slept an entire night with the same woman that drove me mad. With the same woman that made me harder than any woman ever. With the same woman that I wanted to spend every night with for the rest of forever. With the same woman that made me want a forever.

I scrambled out of bed, rinsed my mouth, regretting I didn’t have a toothbrush here, and trotted down the stairs. When I rounded the kitchen doorway, Sam was facing the stove, her hair still damp from a shower. God, she was beautiful.

I knew this is when she thought she looked her worst but I swear to God, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

“Smells good in here,” I said with a yawn.

She spun around with a spatula in her head. Damn, I wanted this girl for as long as we both shall live…

“You like scrambled eggs?”

“I do.”

“Good. Sit.”

I sat. “You know, you’re gonna have to relinquish that control you love so much if this is going to be a thing.”

“A thing?” she asked salt and peppering the eggs.

“Yes. You and I?”

Her emerald eyes darted up to mine. When her brows pulled together, a little v formed between her eyes. I didn’t really want eggs or bacon any more.

“Mac. I think we need to talk about that.”

I stood. “There’s nothing to talk about, Sam.”

With my bare feet, I padded toward her; she back-stepped, looking away. I’m not sure she understood that she and I weren’t open for discussion.

“I know you care for me, Sam. I know I hurt you. I know you feel like I lied. I know it will be hard for you when people find out what I do…I did… for a living. But, that will all go away in time. Then it will be just you, me, Jake and Peyton, and it will all be worth it.”

Her lips parted in the cutest of ways, but then her eyes narrowed and her lip pulled up.

“NO! You don’t get to say stuff like that. You made it clear on the ship that you didn’t want more. I asked you if you wanted more and you clearly said, no! You said no, Mac. No! You said no!” She stumbled over her own words as she continued to back away from me. The spatula looked like a weapon in her hands.

“I don’t say things to be mean, Sam. I say the wrong things because I’m stupid. After you left, I realized what I wanted. What I needed. What made me happy. You and your fucked up OCD ways and completely ridiculous anxieties helped me cope with mine.”

She shoved the skillet of eggs off the burner and jammed a finger in my direction.

“No! No! Don’t even go there. I can’t hope for something that will never come true. You can’t do that to me, Mac.”

There was no more space for her to run away. She’d backed herself into a corner. I threw her my crooked grin. She immediately looked away. When I lifted her chin with my finger, a single tear trickled down her cheek.

“Sam,” I puffed out, amazed at how one tear could knock the air from my lungs. My entire throat constricted.

Ignoring me, she shook her head, shoved my chest and stepped around me. “No! I never planned on you changing your mind! You can’t go from being a sex playboy or the…the…pussy crook to wanting to be in a relationship in the span of 12 days. How do you even see this playing out, Mac, huh? This you and me thing? Tell me how you see it playing out.”

I captured her in my arms stopping her from moving away from me. A vicious pain cannonballed up my arm from my damn hand.

“Do I need to get the handcuffs?” I threatened.

She pursed her lips.

“Then stand still!” I raised my voice then I lifted her off the ground and set her ass on the soapstone countertop with my good hand.

“Tell me, Mac.”

“The sex business is history, Sam. I’m selling it to Blake. And, it was nine days, not 12 because you ran away from me. You want to know how this is going to play out? I’ll spell it out for you. I see our future several ways. I see me stealing your covers when we sleep. I see me gently moving you when a small snore sneaks up your throat at night.”

“I don’t snore.”

I raised my brows at her.

“I see me running to the store when one of the kids gets sick because we need something and they want their mom by their side. I see me holding you when you don’t feel well because you deserve to be taken care of too.”

Sam’s eyes closed.

“But most of all, I see me living the rest of my entire life with you…and given that you are significantly older than me…”

Her mouth opened, but I cupped my palm over it to prevent words from coming out.

“Given that you are
significantly older
than me…” I repeated. “My hope is that if you meet death first, I’ll follow shortly after because men always die before women. Maybe it would happen at the same time, which would be perfect, but I honestly don’t want to live another day without you.”

Her hands shot up and covered her face, but I pulled them away. Her face twisted. This must be what they call the ugly cry because she was clearly unable to keep her composure.

“Say something…tell me you haven’t given up on me,” I said.

“Tell you something?”

“Yes,” I said. “Anything.”

“How about I love you?”

My heart quit beating for a minute. My chest had felt like an overinflated inner tube the entire morning, and those three words made the pressure all go away. It was exactly what I wanted to hear.

“Sam…” I exhaled. “Jesus, woman. I love you too,” I whispered, resting my forehead against hers. She brushed her lips over mine. “I’m gonna take you upstairs now. I want you for breakfast.”

“Please,” she panted, but held my neck so tightly that I didn’t move. Once she released me, she pulled back and dragged her hands down my arms to my hands. Unwillingly, I flinched when she spread the fingers on my right hand trying to hold it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, lifting my hand.

There was no way this was going to be a distraction. Not now.

“Nothing. I’m good.”

“Oh my God, Mac. Your hand! It’s swollen and bruised.”

Damn it. “I know. I think it’s broken. But listen…”

“Broken? What the hell?” she squawked loudly, hopped down, grabbed her car keys and slid on her flip-flops. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“No, Sam. Listen, please.”

“What happened?”

The last thing I wanted to talk about was the club or the incident the other day. “I punched a wall. Listen, Sam. It’s been broken for three days. Please, can we just have three more hours, then I’ll go.”

With her fingers, she rubbed gently over the discolored skin examining the swelling. “Mac. Why’d you punch a wall?”

I was neither proud nor ashamed of my actions, but I did fear her judgment. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought another man had touched you.”

When she exhaled, her breath smelled of toothpaste. “Mac. This goes against who I am. You’re hurt. Let’s tend to that.”

“No. I want to tend to you.”

She tilted her head to the side; her eyes pled with me to give in. I shook my head. Clearly exasperated, she threw her hands up in defeat.

“Fine! Let’s go knock this shit out,” she said, spinning around.

Laughter rumbled through me as I started following her. “Damn woman, that’s what I love about you. You sweep me off my feet with your dirty talk.”

Unexpectedly, she flipped around so quickly I nearly rammed into her.

“Wait…how old are you, Mac?”

“Does it matter?”

Zoning off into thought, she swallowed and then said, “No.”

“I’m 33, baby.”

“Oh, God!” she said, trying to push me away, but I kept her close against me.

“There’s no turning back, Sam.”

“Money says you die first,” she said as we abandoned the bacon and eggs and started up the stairs.

“Baby, I’m going to fuck you near death right now.”

“Hey guys,” Jake’s voice echoed in the entryway.

I cringed as I turned to face Jake, accidently tripping Sam in the process

The boy tossed his bag by the front door, smiling. God, what did he hear?

“Is that bacon I smell?” he asked and whizzed toward the kitchen.

Sam stared up at me. “Seriously, you just tripped me.”

I held out my hand. “I’m sorry. I need to get used to this kid thing.”