More Than Protect You (More Than Words #6.5) - Shayla Black Page 0,43

I won’t. She has to want this enough to overcome her fears, and she has to believe in us enough to take a risk. I learned from Ellie that a relationship is no good if only one person wants it.

“I understand.”

“You’re not going to tell me how stupid I was?”

“For being young and naive? No. You went to him openly and honestly—”

“Blindly.”

“You have to forgive yourself for that. If you want to Monday-morning quarterback this thing, sure, maybe you should have seen the signs sooner. But the truth is, you shouldn’t have had to. A grown-ass man should never have defiled a child, then strung her along for years before plotting to ruin her life and wash his hands. The fact he didn’t give two shits about his own son or daughter you were having is just the cherry on top of his shit sundae.”

“Oh, he offered me money to terminate the pregnancy. If I did, he’d write me a glowing recommendation for a future job. He had friends in all the right places, if I wanted to provide the same level of…service he was accustomed to. Suffice it to say I told him to shove his offer up his ass and slammed my way out of the office. I never saw him again.”

Wishing I could inflict more violence on this fucking scum-sucking shitbag doesn’t do anything to help the pensive woman in front of me barely holding back tears. Instead, I squeeze her hand. “Mandy, baby…”

“I expected that to be the end of it. I left Reed Financial that day, resolving to find another job as soon as possible and have my baby on my own. I devised a stupid story about a one-night stand with consequences for my dad and my brother. But the truth came out a couple of months after Oliver was born, when Barclay got arrested. My family dynamics have been a mess since.”

I can only imagine. If they’re blaming her—and at least Douglas Lund seems to be—they’re idiots. But right now, my bigger concern is Mandy. “Are you still going to therapy?”

She nods. “It hasn’t been easy. Celeste, my therapist, still thinks I blame myself more than I should.”

“From what I’ve heard you say, I agree.”

“I’m still trying to reconcile it all in my head, but I’ve made a lot of progress.”

I bring her closer. “Good. But I hate that you believed his lies. He had to know what you were thinking.”

“About our future? He did. He never corrected me, just hauled me back to bed. So…I’m a train wreck. I haven’t had sex in way too long, and you’re the only other man I’ve ever kissed. Aren’t you sorry you ever thought you were interested?”

“Don’t try to deflect me with sarcasm. I’m still interested.” And I hate that she’s mentally flinching, giving us both an excuse for me to walk away before I’ve even had the thought to. “It’s going to take something far worse than the truth to shake me off, baby.”

Her smile is one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen, and more precious because I know it’s real. “Why are you so understanding?”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you’re just used to a complete asswipe, so any normal guy seems like a saint?”

“No. I’ve met plenty of perfectly nice guys, too. Bruce, for example. Not interested.” She hesitates. “Couldn’t trust him. I tried, but…no. You? I trust. I’m still trying to figure out why.”

Just like I’m trying to figure out why I want Mandy so much. Not just sexually, though god knows that as we’re both basically sitting here in our underwear, I wouldn’t mind laying her back and making love to her. But I don’t know where her head is, and I need more time to process everything she’s told me. Though I’m not deciding about us. I’ve already done that. My heart knows, as crazy as that sounds.

I tuck a pale strand that worked free from her braid behind her ear. “Maybe we’re both doing something we should have done years earlier. We’re listening to our gut.”

Her smile widens to something so pure she seems to glow. “Maybe you’re right.”

Then she hides a yawn behind her hand, stretches, and closes her eyes. “I’m so tired.”

“Go back to sleep. I could use some extra z’s, too. If you need anything, I’ll be in the next room.” I stand, grab my Glock, then palm her crown. “We’ll worry about everything else later.”

As I turn to leave, she grasps

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