Page 190 of Duty and Desire
This was the reason Mo turned to me and took my hand.
I gave him my gaze.
“The men hated Tammy,” he announced. “They hated the ones before her that they knew. And they didn’t hide it. Part of me was pissed at ’em. Those relationships weren’t working and the way the guys treated the woman in my life, it didn’t help.”
I didn’t like to think of how even one of them not liking me would feel.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to.
“But I gotta admit, they were right,” he went on. “I should have ended things. Lookin’ back, havin’ you, I see that now. But they already knew it. They knew I didn’t have what I deserved. Now I know, and they know I do. With that, do you think, the minute they meet you, Ma and my sisters won’t feel the same way?”
I loved what he was saying to me.
I loved that he found it in him to say it to me.
I still knew I needed to win over the women in that house, not for me.
For Mo.
But I leaned into him and replied, “I’m glad you now know what you deserve, honey. And I hope I always give you that.”
“I don’t hope it, I know you will,” he returned, came to me, kissed me hard but closed-mouthed, and pulled away. “You ready?”
I was not.
I nodded.
He let me go, shifted to open his door but turned back to me.
“I help you out.”
“Right, okay,” I whispered.
It was then Mo nodded.
It felt funny sitting there, waiting for Mo to help me from his truck, but it felt nice when he did.
Like I was what I was by Mo—loved and looked after.
We were halfway up the walk when the front door was opened by a blonde woman who was tall—not as tall as Mo, but really freaking tall, and built—not like Mo, of the feminine, curvy variety.
She took one look at me and shouted, “Holy crap! That dress!” She then turned her head back toward the house and kept shouting. “I’m going on a diet immediately! After crab cakes, of course. And meringue cake, of course again!”
With my dress, I’d gone black. I only had clingy because I only did clingy. It was sleeveless and halter neck with a racer back. It was also mid-thigh with a small slit on the left side.
It was me.
And I thought they should know who I was, no matter how nervous I was about it.
The woman at the door turned back to us as we walked up the three steps to the porch then immediately back to the house she yelled, “She’s teeny! And she’severything.”
Oh myGod.
I wasn’t exactly teeny.
But I was beyond thrilled she’d taken one look at me and described me aseverything.
Before I could feel the fullness of this relief, Mo ordered, “Marte, quit shouting.”
