Filthy (The Reckless Series #2) - HJ Bellus Page 0,69

brought your freshly squeezed lemonade.” Darby sets down a chilled glass in front of me.

I raise an eyebrow questioning her.

“Okay, it’s from the jug, but I cut up a lemon and put in it with splash of vodka, so it’s practically the same thing.”

I grab the back of her thigh and stare at the pile of wood I’ve been staring at for hours.

“The orders are piling up, baby, get to work.”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

She grabs my left hand and squeezes it. “You can.”

She runs my palm over the freshly planed pink ivory wood. She forces my palm to feel each of the corners.

“Darby, I can’t run the table saw.”

She forces me to stand and walks me over to the table saw that’s already set on the proper dimensions. “Show me.”

She flicks the saw on and places a pair of safety glasses on waiting for me to do the same thing. When I don’t move, she puts my glasses on and hands me the board standing on my left side. I do nothing but hold the board in my right hand. She applies the perfect amount of pressure on the left side taking the lead guiding the wood through the saw.

The sweet smell of freshly cut wood empowers me. I help her guide it through, paying close attention to her delicate hands and the power blade rotating. We work without words. She becomes my left hand as we cut each piece of wood together in silence. She works in unison with my body until all the pieces are cut for the table.

I pre-drill all the holes. It all flows back to me. The love of building and working with raw material, creating a final masterpiece. Darby doesn’t say a word, watching me. She studies my left shoulder and is there for me when I need her. The hours float by until we drift into the next day. It’s nearly three in the morning and the table stands before us.

Darby comes to my left side, wrapping both her arms around mine, rubbing the length of it from my wrist up to the top of my shoulder. She’s more than my life, my world, she’s part of me.

“Thank you,” I whisper with tears welling up in my eyes.

I’m not afraid to hide the fact I’m standing in front of her crying as a grown-ass adult.

“You believed in parts of me I never did. You taught me it’s impossible to unlove you. My soul is yours and now my hands will forever be yours.”

My girl has just given me everything in the world. The emotion takes over. I’m such a mess I can’t respond, so I only squeeze her hand in my left hand and kiss the ever loving hell out of her.

31

Darby

“I’m going to flamingo pink your ass when I get out of this shower.”

“FusciaFuchsia can be so damn tricky.” I stare down at the new dress I have a photo shoot for this week.

I hear him growl from the shower and love antagonizing him with the color scheme. Both of our businesses have taken off. We sleep, eat, and breathe woodworking and fashion. It’s truly a laughable combination, but it’s us.

Rhett surprised me with a romantic dinner that led to hot, toe curling sex, but he slipped me a card while he went down on me. Reading it was quite the task with him licking me, driving me insane. It was our official LLC. “My Girl Unlove, LLC.” He even added a little tagline to the business name. “The only place wood gets fresh with fashion.”

I burst out in a fit of laughter. I could feel his lips spread wide across my pussy. I pulled the man up by his sexy man-bun and kissed him hard. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s us.”

“Yes.”

“Need your back washed?” I holler to him in the shower.

“No, you don’t. No more distraction or stalling tactics. Today is the day you meet your mother.”

His words make me feel ill. I’ve pushed it off for a month now and feel guilty about it each day. But the thought of actually meeting her scares the hell out of me. Rhett called the number on the letter. I’ll never forget his face while he talked on the phone. Pain was etched in each of his features. He nodded mostly and said he understood.

When he asked me to sit down, I know it was bad, really bad. My mother is in a nursing home suffering from Alzheimer's. She’s in the worst stage of it. She’s