“Not just a pretty face and hockey player,” I tease and place one hand on her stomach.
“I had to hide my money,” she admits, her voice cracking slightly. A beat of silence stretches on for a few moments, that truth hovering in the air before she continues to speak. “I had to tell my parents that my shifts were cut short, or that my shift was canceled and things like that. I hated lying, you know how much I hate liars, but the only way to go was to hide the money. The psychologist was really helping me.”
“I’m so happy to hear you were getting the help you needed.” Although I sense this story is going to go dark, and fast.
Her muscles tighten and I can almost feel the effort it’s taking to push the words past her tongue. I give her hand a squeeze, and for the first time ever Lanie feels fragile beneath my touch. “It was going so well, until my mother found my money in an old shoe box that I had hidden under my bed.” A tremble goes through her and I squeeze her tight, offering her my strength and support, and her body softens as she accepts my comfort. Honestly, I never get close to women, but that’s changing, right now, right here, with her, and I’m not sure I can do anything about it.
It takes effort to keep my voice steady. “She went through your stuff?”
She puts her hand over mine, like she’s seeking my touch…needs it. “Yeah, they didn’t believe me when I said I was losing shifts.” She pauses, her breath a shallow rasp as she gives me a glimpse beneath her tough bravado. “I mean, I was lying to them.”
I dig deep for control, when all I want to do is go find her parents and pound some sense into them. How could they not see what a treasure they had in Melanie? “You had no choice.”
“I despise dishonesty, Brady. I hated it in myself at the time.”
“You needed help, Lanie.” I swallow against a gritty throat as my blood runs cold, rage roaring through me. My voice is deceptively calm when I say, “You did what you had to do and so maybe there’s a time when dishonesty is needed.”
She nods, although I sense she doesn’t believe that, and continues. “I wanted the money back. I asked for it. They wouldn’t give it to me and told me they needed it to pay bills, and that I was lucky I had a roof over my head. Then they told me I was to give them my next paycheck or leave.”
They gave her a fucking ultimatum…
As my racing heart stutters to a stop, I note the defiant tilt of her head, and I whisper. “You left.” I blow out an excruciating breath full of anger, everything in me hurting for the little girl who just wanted her parents in her life.
“I did, and it was hard, but it was the best thing that ever happened. I stayed with a friend for a bit, slept on her couch, and then her parents got tired of me so I had to quit school in my senior year, and get a job so I could find a place to live. I ended up renting a room downtown. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.”
I softly stroke her hair as she opens up, a new kind of vulnerability about her, one she hides from the world—and believe me, I know all about hiding. Jesus, if I didn’t like her already, I sure as hell would now. I take a deep breath, an unfamiliar fullness in my chest making it a little hard to fill my lungs. I press a tender kiss to her temple. “You did the right thing.”
“I never felt like I had anything that was mine before. For the first time, I never had to worry things were going to be taken from me in a moment’s notice.”
My heart thumps for the little lost girl who had nothing but struggles, but dammit, I admire her courage and strength to walk away from that horrible situation. Fuck, this woman deserves a family—a real family. I reach for her hand and find it trembling.
“A few years later, I ran into my psychologist and she was the one to convince me to get my GED.” She tilts her head back to look at me, a deep determination on her face. “She encouraged me and after I got it, I decided I wanted more.”
I squeeze her hand tighter, breathing in the fruity scent of her hair and her lightly fragranced skin. “You deserve more and you’re all kinds of amazing, Lanie.”
“Thank you.” She wiggles, snuggling in tighter against me. “I enrolled in college years ago and now I’m doing my masters. I want to help others.”
I really love that about her. “Do you see your parents? Do they have any idea just how amazing you turned out, despite them?”
“No,” she tells me, her voice thinning to a whisper. “That was the end of the relationship.” There’s hurt in those words, but there’s also healing.
We both go quiet for a long time, lost in our thoughts. After a while, I break it and say, “You know, not everyone breaks promises. Not everyone wants something for nothing.” She stays quiet and I add, “I bet you’re going to tell your clients that.”
“Yeah,” she answers quietly. “And I know what you’re going to say next.”
“In my head again, are you?”
She chuckles, a new lightness about her, and I can’t help but think after opening up, and sharing that painful past with me has somehow lessened the weight of it. “No, I just know you’re going to say, I don’t know how to take my own advice. I’ve heard it from Brighton, too.”
“Maybe I was going to say, how about you let me take you back home, and put my cock in you again?”
She sits up, turning to me, desire flickering across her face. “I like the idea of that.”
Jesus, everything about this woman throws me off balance. I stand and pull her to her feet. Her body bangs against mine as my hands span her small waist and she shakes her head, a tiny laugh bubbling in her throat.
“What?” I ask.
As fatigue overtakes her, she covers her mouth and tries to stifle a yawn. “What is it about us?”