Page 26 of Tempt Her

“It’s stupid.” Her nose is red from crying.

“Oh,”—tenderly, I wince—“same bad habit. Try again.”

Looking at the wall of perfectly stacked canned goods, she answers, “I’m not allowed to give my dad a Christmas present.”

My jaw drops. “Allowed?”

“It’s Gentry’s money. He pays for everything, and he’s pissed at me, and that’s my punishment.”

The logic adds up quickly as my heart rate skyrockets. “Does he hit you? Do I need to fucking kill him?”

“No,” she murmurs. “Hecontrolsme, and that hurts worse sometimes because it never ends.”

Where do I go next with this? I’m so full of rage I can’t see. “Why does he think he can punish you? And over your dad?”

“For not doing my job. For not getting the guests he wants to attend our bullshit party.”

“So he’s a fucking idiot who thinks you can control what other people do?”

“Yes.” Finally, she looks at me, apathy filling her eyes. “Because he controlsme too.”

I don’t need an education on how money and control work. I got a History degree; it’s the human condition. So instead, I softly offer, “I’ll give you the money for your dad’s present.”

Her top teeth grab her bottom lip so hard to stifle a sudden sob and shit; I didn’t mean to make her cry more.

“No,” she chokes out. “Thank you, but no. It’s not about the present. I mean, yes, it is. I want to get my dad a big, framed photograph of the beach to hang in his room. Something nice to look at while the curtains are closed. Something pretty to escape. Like I want to escape the hell I created for myself too.”

Tears stream down her cheeks, and rules or money or control—I don’t give a shit—they can’t stop me from doing this.

“Come here.” I gently reach for her arm, pulling her into my embrace.

She seems so defeated that she accepts it. Wearing a white sweater, she’s soft under my touch, resting her head against my heart; it feels right with her, while her world feels so wrong.

I whisper into her strands, “How can I get you out of this?”

She mutters against my chest, “The only way I get out of this is my biggest fear.”

Her hair smells like lavender. Her body is so warm; it’s making me sweat. Her life sounds so cold, but she’s melting me so fast. Everything about Stacey is what I’ve always wanted to feel with a woman. Powerful. Vulnerable. Safe, yet risking it all.

“How do you get out?” I ask her again because I’ll help her.

Pulling back from my chest, she lifts her crying eyes to mine, and the pain breaking across her face breaks my heart.

“My only way out is when my dad dies. Then I can walk out of this miserable house and marriage and be free, and I never want that day to come because I love my dad.” More tears pour down her cheeks. “He’s all I have, even though he doesn’t know me anymore, and I feel so alone all the time because Gentry is so mean and cruel to me, and it’s all my fau—”

I kiss her.

I put my lips to hers to stop her pain. I caress my mouth over hers and clasp her neck, telling her to give me more; I can take it.

Her body stiffens in my grasp, shocked by my gesture, seeking even more of her. I want all of her, and she doesn’t know what to do with my affection, my care—what I know I will quickly feel for her if this goes further.

She gasps over my lips, “I can’t cheat on my husband.”

I cup her face, swearing the truth into her eyes. “You’re not cheating if the game is over, and you lost, and still, he won’t stop beating you.”

Her eyes shake like she’s known it all along. Like she’s needed this so much, the caring touch of another person, so she gives in. Reaching for my lips again, it heats my veins as the pain in our kiss heats into passion.

Fuck, I joked with Mateo and Ford about Stacey, but it was only to protect me from what I felt the moment I saw her; you just know sometimes. That’s what my mom said of my dad. She just knew he was special.

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