Surrender to You (12 page)

I already knew what pleased her, but letting her control my movements was just as erotic. Especially when she pushed my fingers into her and drew them up to her mouth to lick them. I was closer to her now, unable to control myself. I dipped to flick my tongue along her nipples. Hearing her moans drove me further until she climaxed against my hand.

I was rather wet at this point.

“Sorry about that,” she said softly. Her face was glowing. I loved seeing her like this. If I could see her like this every night I would.

“You're not sorry,” I chided. “Not in the least bit.”

“No, I'm not.”

I let her soak for a bit longer, and then I brought a towel to dry her off.

She was quiet as I followed her to bed.

“I need to set my alarms or I'll never wake up,” she said. “I'm so exhausted.”

“Don't worry, just get some rest.”

I got to work setting her alarms like she wanted.

I waited for her to ask me to stay, but she fell asleep instead. I waited for the dawn to come and then I left.

Day after day I used my lunch break to visit the hospital. At first, the nursing staff was a bit put off by me, but they quickly understood I was Patty's daughter and I wasn't leaving until my birth mom woke up.

The first day I came, I was surprised to see my mom was in a new room. A private room on the same floor.

A quick text to Tomas confirmed he'd paid for the luxury private room, as well as specialists who checked on my birth mom during the lunchtime rounds. Just another debt I couldn't pay. She'd been moved, there was nothing I could do but be grateful.

By the fourth day, it was nice seeing her face, even if she wasn't awake.

By the fifth day, when she did wake up, she opened her mouth and everything changed. “Who the hell are you?”

After twenty-five years apart, that was the first thing she said to me.
How lovely.

“Hi, I'm Carlie…” Instead of standing next to her, like I always did, I added some space between us.

“I don't know any Carlie.” Her voice was hoarse and sleep touched her eyelids.

“I'm…your daughter. The one you gave up a long time ago.”

Now that made her pause. Her gaze flicked back and forth and she worked her mouth as if by habit.

The awkward moment lingered for so long I wanted to say something to end it.

“What do you want?” Mom finally asked.

“To meet you. I've always wanted to know who you were—”

“Did I ask for you to come find me?” she interrupted.

“No, but—”

“Then you shouldn't be here.” She grimaced.

“Are you in pain?” I looked for the call button. “Do you want some medication?”

“Carol, you can leave.”

“It's Carlie.”

“Whatever your name is, I don't want you here. I specifically asked for no visitors.”

“I'm not a visitor.”

She harrumphed. In the exact manner I did. “So you're
family
now?”

Hearing those words hurt, but I ignored her jab. I'd waited for this so long, a few words from her didn't mean shit compared to what I'd heard on the streets.

“Apparently I'm the only family you've got now. I heard my dad is dead.”

She made a noncommittal sound. “Pretty much. He smoked enough cigarettes to earn a free lung disease ticket.” Then she turned a bit, only to stop with a grimace and reach for her abdomen.

“You shouldn't move.” Hearing her say that about him kicked me in my gut, but I'd deal with that later.

“After Frank died, I was so angry about him leaving me alone. Look at me now. Damn karma is an evil bitch with steel-toe boots.”

At that moment, a nurse finally came in to check on her. “How are you feeling, Patty?”

“Like week-old shit left on the cement to dry.”

The nurse chuckled. “Watch your language, hon.”

“When you give me some drugs to feel better, we can talk about my language.”

“Have you been keeping your daughter company?” the nurse asked.

“I don't know who this person is. I have
strict
rules about visitors.”

The nurse flashed me a look of sympathy, but even I knew Mom could kick me out.

“Talking to others is healthy,” the nurse said. “You're about to hit a rough patch until we know your bowels are working properly.”

My birth mom frowned and she slowly rubbed her scarf-covered head. “How long until I can eat? I hate this tube running down my throat.”

“Hopefully just another day or two. We need to keep your stomach from getting distended.”

She made a rude sound of utter distaste. “So all I get is that IV?”

“We talked about this before your procedure, Patty.” The nurse continued to check her vitals. “This is the plan.”

“I didn't plan on waking up ready to eat a horse and the barn it sleeps in.”

The nurse patted her on the shoulder. When the nurse left, I was alone with Patty again. Her lowered eyebrows and frown told me I wasn't welcome.

“Would you like for me to turn on the TV?” I found the remote and turned on the television. This fancier room seemed to have everything. Even a nice couch for family to sleep on.

“Turn it off,” she snapped. “If I wanted it on, I would've done it myself.”

Keep smiling, Carlie.

Reading people was what I did for a living, which meant I knew for a fact I was trying to swim toward a sinking ship. She was likely hungry and tired. Hungry and tired people lashed out at anyone within striking distance.

And I had a damn target duct-taped to my forehead.

“You need to leave,” Mom said again.

I nodded. “I'll be back later then, after you've rested.”

“Don't bother.”

“I promise I won't be a nuisance. Once you're feeling better you'll want company.”

“What makes you think I want to see you
ever
again?” The harsh look on her face felt like a smack on mine. “There was a
reason
why I left you behind.”

And with that, I exited stage right.

The next day, I didn't even bother going into her room. The moment I stood outside the threshold, I saw her dark green eyes boring into me. On any other day, I could've faced twenty irate, hostile hotel guests, but thinking about the horrible things she'd said to me yesterday left me questioning why I'd spent so much money to meet her.

I could've stayed in the U.K. I would've still felt empty, but damn, at least empty was a cakewalk compared to feeling hollowed out like catfish prepared for the grill.

She knew how to do it, too.

But I had a distinct advantage, which I exploited: I could leave and come back.

That unpleasant woman couldn't leave the bed yet. The way I saw it, I had nothing but time and the same amount of stubbornness. Maybe a bit more. I could chip away at even the bitterest of people.

After she expressed, in a not-so-polite manner, how much she didn't want to see me, I got her some water and marched right out. The hospital grounds were a great place to do a few laps. So I circled the fountain twice instead of taking a long jump off a short pier into the bay.

“Were those heels made for walking that much?” a familiar voice asked.

I was about to make another lap and there was Tomas sitting on one of the flowerbed ledges. The amusement shining in his eyes made me want to knock him backward into the dirt.

“What are you doing here?” I snapped.

He lifted two bags. Lunch again.

“I'm not hungry.” I began marching again.

He chuckled and I wanted to hurt him even more. “You should be. I saw your refrigerator. You didn't have enough food to feed a small child.”

“So you noticed….” I slowed down a bit. “Were you the one who had the hotel staff put food in my fridge?”

He shrugged a bit. “Maybe. Your hotel does offer a service to buy your groceries for you.”

“Yes, and it costs
money
.” What I needed to eat wasn't at the small corner mart near my business travelers' hotel. Hell, I didn't know what to eat half the time and it drove me crazy.

Right now I'd give anything to feel
normal
.

Seeing my fridge full of fresh produce and healthy food had lifted my spirits, until I'd gotten here. I gave up venting and sat down next to him. “I'm just so
fucking
pissed right now.”

He placed the food into my hands and I jabbed my hand into the bag and found an apple. “I could just—
arggghhh
!” I grunted and then took an angry bite out of the apple.

“Having a hard time?”

“ ‘Hard time' is an understatement.” I recounted to him every harsh word she'd said. By the time I was done, my apple was nothing more than a sad little core. It was exactly how I felt. “I've been waiting for this reunion for such a long time. All my life I've worked myself to the bone to have the money to do this kind of trip. Not sure if this was worth it…”

“She needs time, Carlie.”

“She's had enough time. Like twenty-five years.”

“Maybe, but you don't know what she's been through. How do you know if she was in a position to keep you? Perhaps every time she looks at you, she's reminded of her failures. Looking at you is a reflection of the decisions she made.” He bit into his veggie wrap.

“She owes me.” I attacked the next thing in the bag. A grilled chicken Caesar salad.

“Personally, I believe she owes you everything—but we're selfish like that. If I could have my mom back, I'd be that way, too.”

Slowly, I ate and considered his words.

“On the hard days, think of her as your toughest customer,” he said. “The one person who doesn't want your help or need your help, but your job is to take care of them.”

I sighed. Right now I just wanted some distance between us. “Why are you here?”

“Because you don't eat right?”

“No, seriously.”

“Because you needed a friend.”

With that, I finally nodded. I did need a friend right now. I'd been too overwhelmed to call Penny, Sophie, or Griffin yet. I should, though. They would be standing here with me grumbling every step of the way. And yet, having Tomas here with me was much better.

“I never had anyone after my mom got killed,” he said out of the blue. “My aunt Daniela never showed how much my mother's death affected her, because everything is about image to my family.”

My chewing slowed, but I didn't say anything to interrupt him.

“The day she left us, I remember complaining about how she never spent time with me. All she did was travel with Dad and leave me with Aunt Daniela and my nannies. So I tricked her one evening when she was heading out for another weekend. Being the boy I was, I faked getting hurt. My mother rushed back and she got into an accident.”

“Tomas…”

“For years I wanted to see her again so I could apologize and fix what I had broken. All this time I've been fixing things until I feel like they're not broken anymore—except us.” He sighed and murmured something in Portuguese I couldn't understand. “But something I've learned lately is that it's never too late to try again.”

We sat quietly for a moment.

“What are you trying to say?” I asked softly.

“Have you ever wanted to fix
us
?”

He was looking at me, but I couldn't look back. “How are we broken?”

He leaned forward. “We meet each other for sex, Carlie. We can't do that forever.”

“Seems to be working so far…”

“Do you truly feel that way?”

I finally glanced at him.

No, I didn't. The way his dark brown eyes fixed on me made me look away. Only a few times had his look left me feeling something so deep that it left me empty when we parted.

Tomas Goodfellow walked on dangerous ground.

“We don't know how to fix this arrangement,” I whispered.

He stood and offered his hand, which had grown larger and rougher over the years. “What if we learned how?”

I considered just sitting there, but placing my hand in his felt right. Slipping into his arms was easy. My breath quickened and uncertainty turned into something much deeper. “So what are we doing right now?”

“We're hugging in a park.”

I chuckled. “For real?”

“We're fixing what's broken between you and me.” He looked down between us. “I'll take care of you. Maybe I'll start with those shoes first.”

I snorted. A new pair of heels wouldn't make anything better. “I don't need anything but you right now.”

“I thought you were working with me here. It's just one pair of shoes, Carlie.”

His grip on my hand tightened when I tried to back away. “First the lunches, then my mom's room was paid for. It's like I owe you now. Why can't we just be there for each other for a while?”

“Caring about someone means giving a part of yourself without expecting anything in return. I just want to buy you a comfortable pair of shoes. After that we can cross the street to the next level. I'm not trying to make you be my friend—although I'd like for us to be the way we used to be when we started out, at the very beginning.”

I considered his words. “I don't know if I can cross that street.”

His jaw twitched. “What if I took your hand and dragged you across?”

I laughed a bit and saw the Tomas I remembered from when we first met. “I'll be kicking and screaming…”

“What if I took the first step? How about you hook me up for once?”

“How the hell do I do that…unless you want me to…” My eyebrows rose with mischief.

“Instead of me buying you shoes, how about you buy me a pair?”

Oh, yeah, he'd really be moving up after I bought him shoes. “You're wearing thousand-dollar, hand-tooled Italian loafers.”

“How do you want me to fix this?” he finally asked. “Work with me here, Gingerbread.”

Damn, he always knew how to make me bend over like I wanted to be punished properly.

I glanced around until I saw something across the street.

“Come with me.” Twelve minutes later, Tomas Goodfellow, owner of the Goodfellow Tower Hotel, was the owner of a new pair of eighty-dollar dress shoes. I made him try on multiple pairs until we found something
I
liked.

He chuckled. “Does this make you feel better?”

“Just a little. Those shoes do look nice on you.”

Tomas walked me back to work, and when my workday ended, he was waiting to walk me back to the hospital—wearing the new pair of shoes I'd bought him.