Page 17 of Bringing Home the Bad Boy

“I see,” she says softly. Then after a pause, “How long have you known her?”

“Ten years ago,” I say, finally facing her. “I worked the fields at Barkley Farms that summer. She was home from college. We fell in love, but her father…” I trail off, the old anger rising.

“Made sure it ended?”

I nod. “Threatened to have my uncles deported if I didn’t leave.”

“Damn, that’s messed up,” Rosa says. “And now you’re back.”

“Now I’m back.”

We both look up as Noel returns. “She’s out cold,” she says. “Didn’t even make it through two pages.”

“Come here,” I say, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go relax.”

In the living room, I pull her into my lap as we settle on the couch. She fits perfectly against me, just like she always has. Rosa brings us fresh hot chocolate, then disappears into the kitchen, giving us space.

Noel takes a sip, then nestles her head under my chin. She’s quiet for so long that I wonder if she’s fallen asleep.

“What are you thinking?” I ask softly, running my hand along her spine.

“I can’t describe what I’m feeling,” she says finally. “Being here, with Jelena… it’s tough. And before you tense up,” she adds, pressing a hand to my chest, “it’s not about you having a child.”

I wait, letting her find her words.

“I was her age when my mother left.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “Four and a half. Sometimes, I try to imagine how she could do it. Leave her children, her life… How do you walk away from your babies?”

“Did you ever try to find her?”

She shakes her head against my chest. “She knows where we are. Where my brothers are, she chose to leave, and she’s chosen to stay gone.”

The pain in her voice makes me hold her tighter. “Tell me.”

“She ran off with a farm worker,” she says, and suddenly, her father’s reaction to me makes more sense. “Dad’s resented women ever since. So really, I lost both parents that day. One to distance, one to bitterness.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I had people who loved me—my brothers, my grandmother. Mee-Ma left me the house by the lake and tried to make up for everything. But it doesn’t erase that feeling, you know? Of being unwanted.”

“Listen to me,” I say, shifting her in my lap until she’s straddling me, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You will never feel unwanted again. I want you with every breath in my body.”

I slide my hand into her hair, pulling her close until our foreheads touch. “You’re mine now,” I whisper against her lips. “And I protect what’s mine.”

When I kiss her, I pour everything I can’t say into it. Every promise, every certainty, every ounce of love I’ve carried for her these past ten years. She melts against me with a soft sound that makes my blood burn.

***

Four days. The best four days of my life. Watching Noel with Jelena fills spaces in my heart I didn’t know were empty. We’ve transformed the house into a winter wonderland, maybe going overboard with the decorations, but neither of us can help ourselves. We’re both trying to give Jelena the childhood we lost—her with her dead mother, me with my distant one.

My mother. The thought of her brings a familiar ache. She hasn’t spoken to me since I patched into the Renegades. “Not the life I wanted for my son,” she’d said, disappointed. I hope the trucking company will change things. I hope she’ll see I’m trying to be the man she raised me to be.

Life feels almost perfect—almost—until we run into James Barkley at Morton’s Department Store. Jelena’s trying on her third princess dress when he appears at the end of the aisle, his face a mix of longing and regret when he spots Noel.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, but Noel turns away, suddenly interested in a rack of tiny shoes.

“Beautiful weather we’re having,” I offer stiffly, because someone has to say something.

He nods, but his eyes are fixed on his daughter. “Noel, please—”

“Look, Daddy.” Jelena twirls out of the dressing room in a sparkly blue number. “I’m Elsa!”

James’s face softens as he watches her spin. No one is immune to Jelena’s charm, not even stone-hearted patriarchs. She grins up at him, completely oblivious to the tension.“You look just like a princess,” he tells her, and for a moment, I see the father he could have been.Shouldhave been.

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