Page 93 of Driven Daddy

“Why it’s a shoebox, but it’s my shoebox.”

He reached up with his other hand to cup my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “I get why you gave up that book, but you’re not alone.”

I tried to pull back, but he held my hand then slipped his finger into my hair.

“So fucking soft. Your hair makes me nuts.” He lowered his forehead to mine. “You have me.Ifyou want me, but I know that you do. Even when you want to smack me.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh. “Maybe.” My stomach jittered and my heart pounded in my head.

“And if I’m right, you have Colette. There are people here that care about you, if you’ll let us.” He tipped my head back a little and his beard tickled my skin just before his lips brushed mine. “Let me be one of them.”

I relaxed into his touch as we kissed under the oak tree that had probably seen so many family barbecues and babies, and maybe even some babies that had been made in that swing.

The Masterson men seemed to ooze charm like a pheromone.

And when he swayed with me in his arms, I fell into the easy box step dance, letting myself just be with him.

For now.

SIXTEEN

The driveto Rita’s place was a quiet one. My parents must have known something was going down in the backyard since they both went up to bed before we went back inside.

Which was for the best.

I’d known Rita had a hard past. There had to be a reason she was so prickly.

I had certainly jammed my foot down my throat half a dozen times and probably didn’t deserve her. But I was going to earn time with her and show her that I was worth something more than just a bounce.

Because right now that’s all she saw us as, no matter how much I wished it was different.

The moment I had first seen her, she’d pulled at me.

Not just because she was fucking gorgeous, but because there were so many parts of her that didn’t match up, making her infinitely interesting. From the flowing dress and her tattoo to her wide intriguing eyes. Then the more I learned, the more I was sunk. Her brain, her smart mouth, her spiny edges, and most of all, the marrow deep loneliness that she tried so hard to hide.

That she’d let me see the real her finally humbled me beyond words.

I glanced at her in the passenger seat. She was staring out the window. There was just enough moon out to show her glittering eyes were still open. She had to be exhausted after crying.

Not just crying. It had been the shattered soul-expelling kind of tears. As if she’d been holding on to that pain for most of her life. To be honest, it was the kind of agony that I wrote about but had never truly understood.

I could imagine it and fight like hell to show it in my drawings and words, but I didn’tknowit.

Not like Rita did.

Absently, I rubbed the center of my chest since the echo of her cries had settled there like a rock.

She reached over and took my hand, surprising the hell out of me. She caged it on the console with hers near my shifter.

It had to be the first overture she’d ever made toward me.

Oh, she’d kissed me. She’d initiated both of our physical encounters. I couldn’t quite call it lovemaking yet. It had been far more profound than any other time I’d had sex. Not that she would believe that.

Especially now that I knew just how alone she’d been her whole life.

While I’d never say it to her, I had a feeling Jenelle had been using her since the beginning. Users always knew who to glom onto. And Rita had been hungry enough to work harder than most.

The perfect kind of mark.

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