Page 3 of Yours to Conquer

“It was an accident,” I say as I wipe the tears from my eyes. “We buried what was left of her three days later, and my dad took off on his next run. My aunt came to stay with me during the week. I stayed at Kat’s on the weekend. Eventually, I ended up spending more time at Kat’s house than my own. The mortgage got paid untilmy eighteenth birthday, and then he sold the house. I was on my own from that point on. I got a note from him four years ago, saying something about me being a whore like my mother. My best guess was he found out that I was an escort and just assumed I was selling it all.” I feel as if I’ve bared my soul to Anthony. I curl up in his lap, trying to protect what is left of me.

“If he ever comes around you again, I want to know. I don’t care if it’s a note, a call, or a visit. You belong to me, and I take care of what’s mine.”

“I belong to you? Since when do I belong to you?” This bit of information is surprising to me. How did we get fromI’m a confirmed bachelortoyou’re minein less than four months?

“Since the day I threw all the extra toothbrushes away,” he says as he tickles me. The way he runs his fingers up my sides makes me laugh uncontrollably. “There’s the girl I love. The one with the robust laugh.”

There are tears in my eyes again, but this time they are caused by joy and playfulness. He has tickled the sadness out of me.

CHAPTER THREE

The sun feels fabulous against my skin. Anthony’s private little beach is the perfect place to work on your tan. His house sits in a little alcove. There are rocky outcroppings on both sides, providing privacy in such a way that you can’t see the neighbors on either side. It’s almost like having your own little island. As I look out to the ocean, I find it peaceful, not a ship or sailboat in sight.

“I brought you some iced tea and the sunscreen.” Anthony plops down beside me, kicking up sand as he settles into his spot. “Let me slather you up. I don’t want you getting burned.” I hum with pleasure as he rubs sunscreen on my body.

“How did I get so lucky to have you? You cook, you clean, and you’re a stud in the sack,” I tease, but as I look at him, I can see that his expression is serious. “What’s up? You look like you’re frowning.” I watch him as he seems to struggle internally with something. My heart pounds wildly. Did I scare him away with the truth of my childhood?

“I’ve been thinking about something since we spoke earlier today. It was something that you said when we were talking aboutyour parents.” I bring myself to a sitting position so the sun’s glare doesn’t disrupt my view. My heart drops into my stomach.

“What did I say?” I ask and wonder what I could have said to him that would cause him to ponder it since this morning.

“You said that he talked to your mom like you weren’t his kid. That he was always gone, and you wondered why a father would want to be away from his family. The thing that bothered me the most was when you described the note he sent to you four years ago. Would you mind if I hired someone to look into your mom’s past?”

“My mom wasn’t a whore, Anthony. If you think you’ll find out that she was, then you’re wrong.” I am furious he thinks my mom had a sordid past. I try to twist away from him, so he doesn’t see the anger in my eyes.

His hands come to my shoulders, and he forces me to face him. “I don’t think your mother was a whore, babe. I think your dad isn’t your dad, and I wonder if I can find out the reason you ended up with him as your father.” He pulls me into his arms. “I love you, and I want to figure out a way to help you understand your past. I know it weighs heavily on your mind.” His hands tenderly rub my back. My heartbeat normalizes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry with you. It’s just that my dad was always saying mean things about my mom, and I feel like I need to protect her...or at least my memory of her.” I lean into his embrace, knowing I’m safe in his arms.

“I understand. I’d do the same if anyone said a bad thing about my mom. You already know that I think my mom is a saint.”

I lean back and look into his eyes. “Your mom is a saint; she raised you, and that couldn’t have been easy,” I tease, feeling better than I did a few minutes ago.

“I want to do this, Em. I have a gut feeling about something. Do I have your permission?” I stare into his eyes and see the pleading look. He loves me, and I love him. I can’t deny him anything.

“I don’t want you to waste your money. I think my mom would have told me if I wasn’t his kid.”

“So, is that a no? Or is it a, ‘you can do what you want, and I won’t stop you, even though I think you’ll find nothing?’” His head tilts to the side in question.

“You can do what you want. However, I don’t think you’ll find anything.” Trying to lighten the mood, I add, “I’ve had a passing hope that somehow I was switched at birth or something crazy like that. I am the only one in my family with red hair.” I pick up the end and bring it in front of my eyes as if expecting it to change color. “My mom told me I had a recessive gene.”

“Hmm, that’s interesting. Okay, I need your mom’s maiden name and the town she grew up in.”

“Her maiden name was Adrianne Marie Helms, and she grew up in Dallas, Texas.”

“Perfect, thanks, babe.” He takes my hand, and in one motion, he pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“I’m afraid of the water, Anthony. I never go past the point where I can see my toes. There are many things in the ocean that you can’t see,” I say with concern. “I’ll stay here on the beach and watch you swim like I always do.” I have stayed out of the water the entire time I’ve known him.

“I’ll take care of you. Come on.” He tugs on my arm, trying to drag me toward the water. “If you’re going to live at the beach, Em, you’re going to have to learn to love the water.”

Against my better judgment, I relax and let him take me to the water’s edge. I think about the creepy ocean things like sharks and jellyfish as I slowly make my way into the cold saltwater. As soon as I lose sight of my feet, I grab his neck and wrap my legs around his waist. There is no way I’m letting my feet touch the ground. “Don’t drop me,” I plead.

“I got you. You don’t need to be scared,” he tells me as I shake in his arms. “You look beautiful with the ocean as your backdrop. Yourred hair is blowing in the breeze, and the sun’s rays highlight every curve of your body. I get hard just looking at you.” His lips touch mine briefly, and his tongue darts out then retreats—he’s such a tease.

“Kiss me. Don’t tease me, Anthony. I want to feel your lips on me,” I beg.

“Oh, you’ll feel my lips on you. I plan to taste every inch of your body today. I told you I have an oral fixation.” This time, his lips press firmly against mine, and his tongue slides into my mouth as he slowly explores me. I can hardly breathe when he finishes the kiss.

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