She frowned again, then crossed her arms over her chest as if she were protecting herself.
What kind of parents did this to their child? She must have been a breathtaking kid. The kind people wanted to watch just to see her smile. Hell, I even liked when she pouted.
“Don’t tell anyone, please,” she whispered, looking up at me.
Did she actually think I’d do that? I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, forgetting that it was pulled back in a ponytail.
I had to help her. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage that, considering I had to go back to Texas in two days. That had been my stepfather on the phone. I was getting more horses to board. And I needed the income. I couldn’t not go home in order to handle this.
“I would never do that. But I want to help you,” I told her, waiting for her to tell me no and try to make me leave. Instead, her lips puckered up again like she was about to cry. Shit, what had I done now?
“You’re so . . . nice. Why are you so nice? I clean your sisters’ houses. You don’t know me, not really. But you open doors for me, and you don’t act like I’m an idiot, and you . . . want to help me?” She said the last bit on a choked sob. “No one can help me. You can’t fix what isn’t there. And my brain just isn’t all there.”
Fucking hell. “Don’t say that again,” I warned her. I was done hearing her demean herself. I had seen intelligence shining in her eyes. “Your brain is fine.”
Reese’s eyes flashed something I didn’t understand, and then a small smile tugged on her lips as she sniffled. “You’re really a nice man, Mase Manning. I don’t normally like men. They . . . make me nervous. But you, you’re different.”
My own fucking emotions were too raw for this. I couldn’t let myself question why she didn’t trust or like men. The haunted look in her eyes when she’d admitted that sent off a warning sign I couldn’t miss. She had more secrets—I’d bet my life on it.
Simple fact was, girls who looked like Reese knew men well. They had been controlling them since they hit puberty. Men didn’t frighten them. They owned men. Unless . . . No. I wasn’t letting my thoughts go there right now. But God, I hoped I was wrong.
“I have to leave in two days. I’m going back to Texas. I’ve got business to handle. But I am going to help you. When I’m gone, you can call me, and I’ll be there to listen. I’m a really good friend. But I need you to promise me that what I set up for you, to help you, you’ll do. You will trust me to put you in good hands. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m a phone call away.”
I wasn’t sure what the hell I was going to do in two days, but I had some connections. I was Kiro Manning’s son, and sometimes that meant something. I never used it for myself, but I’d use it to help Reese. Kiro could demand the best, and Reese was getting the best.
Reese tilted her head to the side, and I wondered again how long her hair was. How it looked draped across her shoulders. Did it naturally curl, or was it straight?
“Why?” she asked
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to help me?”
I didn’t even pause. “Because you’re worth helping.”
Reese
I stood staring at the door in wonder long after Mase had left.
I didn’t understand why he thought I was worth helping, but he did. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth spread through me. I was afraid to move. I didn’t want this feeling to vanish. I liked it too much. So I stood perfectly still and enjoyed it.
I was still gripping my phone in my hand. He had taken it from me and added his number to my contacts. He’d even taken a photo of the boots he was wearing so that it would appear on the screen when he called. I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to read his name. I would know who was calling.
Smiling, I thought about the selfie Jimmy had taken when he had added his number to my phone. He’d been very into getting a picture of himself. So different from the picture of Mase’s boots. I didn’t imagine Mase had ever taken a selfie.
I liked Mase Manning. I liked him a lot. Even more than Jimmy. In a very different way. And I knew that wasn’t a good thing. Mase was nice to me, but he didn’t like me the way I liked him. I could tell by the way he treated me. Maybe that was why I felt so safe with him, because I liked him that way. I knew I’d never have to worry about him feeling the same way. He didn’t even live here, after all.
My heart sank.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I put my phone down on the sofa and walked to the kitchen. Getting worked up over this was silly. Mase was going to try to help me, and although I was worried that I couldn’t be helped, I had to hope. What if someone could help me? I wanted to believe that. It would change everything. I could do so much more. I could get my GED, and maybe I could even go to college.
With a newfound determination, I picked up my newest picture book from the library and went to curl up on the sofa. I would get through this one today. I could do this. Mase had faith in me. I just needed more faith in myself.
Three hours later, I was almost finished with my book. My head ached, and my eyes felt red and irritated from straining. The knock on my door was followed by “Yoo-hoo, babe, it’s me. I got pistachio ice cream and two spoons.”
Smiling, I tucked the book away under the sofa and went to let Jimmy in.
He was smiling a little too brightly when I opened the door. Holding up two spoons, he sashayed into the room as only Jimmy could do and still look good.