Page 39 of Do Me
Though it all occurred over the span of a month, because of the emotional impact, it felt much longer. “Because I shouldn’t have let it happen. I felt degraded and embarrassed. Here I was a clinical psychologist, allowing to happen to me the very things I tell my patients they should escape. He made me feel like trash.”
Braxton lifted her until she straddled his lap and cradled her face between his large hands. “Listen to me, Londyn. None of what he did is your fault.He’sthe one with the problem.”
“I thought you would think less of me. I’m sorry for believing you would be just like him. I’m sorry for saying those things to you. You’re nothing like him.” Clinically, she did understand why she’d lashed out at him. Seeing Antoine had triggered an emotional crisis. The façade of pretending that everything was okay, when in reality, she was still very much broken inside, had finally taken its toll.
“No apologies needed, but I have to tell you if I ever see him again, it’s going to be hard for me to keep from hurting him the same way he hurt you.” Anger radiated from him. He closed his eyes briefly. “You are my heart, and I won’t ever allowanyoneto hurt or disrespect you again.”
His words broke the last barrier around her and the tears started again.
“You’ve tried to deal with this on your own for so long. You don’t have to anymore. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
She nodded and buried her face in his neck, too mentally drained to process his words. Gradually, her tears stopped and only her periodic shuddering breaths ruffled the silence.
Braxton eased them off the floor and carried her to her bedroom where he stripped them both, pulled back the covers on her bed and placed her in the center. He laid down next to her and gathered her in his embrace. “Rest, baby.”
The rhythmic sound of his strong heart beating beneath her ear relaxed her and her breathing slowed. She loved this man with everything in her.
* * *
Braxton had delayed meeting Londyn’s parents for two weeks because after everything she’d told him, he felt they needed time to just work on being together. He’d been so worried that he had her pack her bags, then brought her to his home so he could keep an eye on her. They hadn’t made love, but lying next to her each night he felt the same contentment as if they had. He’d also gotten used to waking up next to her and sharing breakfast. Londyn had decided against seeing a counselor for the time being, citing that Braxton had helped her purge the demons that plagued her, but she did promise to seek help in the future, if necessary. Although, he had some reservations, he deferred to her because she was the expert.
“I’m ready.”
He turned from where he stood in his kitchen staring out at the backyard and smiled. She had on a pair of black crop pants, a short-sleeved top and black flats. After their Saturday morning breakfast with her parents, they were going to take advantage of the warm spring weather and have a picnic at Piedmont Park. “So am I. I still wish your parents would’ve let me take you all out.” Her mother had vehemently refused to allow him to pay and, instead, said she would prepare the meal at home.
Londyn smiled. “I could’ve told you my mom was going to overrule you.”
Seeing her relaxed and happy made his heart swell. “But you didn’t, so you owe me brownies.”
She hooked her arm in his. “Come on and quit complaining. I told you, you’ll get your brownies.”
Braxton bent and slanted his mouth over hers in a deep, sensual kiss. “I’m going to hold you to it.”
“I know.”
Following her directions, he parked in the driveway of a Brookhaven home on a tree-lined street with stately homes and meticulously maintained lawns. The front porch held two rocking chairs with a small table between them. Before they got out of the car, the front door opened and a tall, elegant woman stepped out with features so reminiscent of Londyn’s, he knew what Londyn would look like in twenty years. He held Londyn’s hand as they headed across the cobblestone walkway and up the three steps to the porch.
“Hi, Mom.” Londyn embraced her mother. She turned to Braxton. “Braxton, I’d like you to meet my mother, Paulette Grant. Mom, this is Braxton Harper.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Grant. You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you, Braxton. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. You all come inside. Breakfast is ready.”
An older man about the same height as Braxton, whose expression conveyed authority and challenge—meant to intimidate—stood in the middle of the living room. It was the same look Braxton’s father had worn when Jared met the family for the first time. Strangely, it didn’t bother Braxton one bit. He would face down her father as many times as necessary for Londyn.
Londyn flew into her father’s outstretched arms. “Dad, I want you to meet Braxton Harper. Braxton, my father, Dwight Grant.”
Looking him directly in the eyes, Braxton firmly shook the older man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Mr. Grant’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s good to meet you, too, Braxton. Londyn, why don’t you help your mother bring everything to the table, so Braxton and I can chat.”
More like interrogate,Braxton thought with a smile. Londyn clearly didn’t want to leave, but her mother took hold of Londyn’s arm and steered her out of the room.
“Have a seat, Braxton,” he said, gesturing to one of two chairs flanking a sofa.
He sat and waited for Mr. Grant to take the other one.
“Londyn tells me you work with computers.”
