Forbidden With Me - Leigh Lennon Page 0,12
eyes fall on Jules who happens to be on the front steps of the walkway, which leads to the front door no one uses. “Who’s with Jules?”
“One question at a time, asshole,” he teases, parking between his sister’s car and another one neither of us recognizes. The license plates are marked Oregon, and Jules is comforting a virtual stranger. Understanding crosses my mind, and I jump from Matt’s BMW, closing the space between the scared little girl who’s never left my thoughts from so long ago.
Jules’s eyes reach mine, and with a little nod, she affirms its who I think it is. I’ve not caught sight of the face that fills my dreams, but her position, and the way she’s cradled by Matt’s sister, tells me her breakdown has just begun.
I lower my tone to less than a whisper. “Jules, let’s take her inside.”
“Yeah, but through the basement. She doesn’t need a crowd.” I agree as Matt gathers near us. It may be the three of us, but if the rest of the Montgomerys join us, I’m afraid Malia’s anxiety attack will worsen.
I waste no time. “Hey, go unlock the basement door,” I instruct, and Matt understands what we’re attempting to do.
Jules raises her voice a tad to be heard over the wracking sobs that fill the night air. “Honey, we’re taking you inside through the basement, okay?”
Malia attempts to stand, but I don’t give her a chance. I scoop up her small body into my arms just as I had so long ago. “I got you, sweetie.” It’s then, in her understanding—maybe a nudge in her memory—her dark chocolate eyes and raven hair—I see the same little girl from so long ago. Her silent pleas are what has me wanting to cradle her in my arms. She shifts against me, and I realize she’s not a girl anymore. Her breasts push up next to the thin fabric of my simple V-neck T-shirt I wore to work this morning. Her stomach is exposed, a crop top giving way to her flat stomach, and as I have my hands on her legs, the small ass booty shorts give a little glimpse of her bright purple panties.
She’s light and limp in my grip, and I’m holding her so tight as though she may evaporate. She had fit in my arms as a girl, and as a woman, she fits even better. Ah, fuck, what am I thinking? All the while, she turns her face and buries it in my shoulder as I’d instructed on the fateful day.
I follow Jules into the Montgomery basement, and when she instructs me to place her on the couch, I sit, cradling Malia’s small body.
Jules’s voice lowers. “This is not exactly what I had in mind.” Malia’s fingers hold on tight to my simple T-shirt, and I take this as a sign she needs me to continue holding her as much as I need her in my arms.
“I don’t think she’s letting go, Jules,” I answer, but even if she hadn’t been clinging to me as her lifeline, I’d still keep this position as long as she requires it.
The squeak of the door and the ascending footsteps alert me to impending company. My bet is on it being Gail Montgomery, the mama bear of bears who are not her kin. It doesn’t matter with Gail Montgomery. “Stephen wouldn’t let me come out when he saw this poor girl’s breakdown,” Gail attempts to whisper but isn’t pulling it off very well. “Then I saw Wells carry her in here, and I just had to see her.”
Gail’s chin rests on me after her declaration to her daughter. “Well, look at her.” She sits down next to me, kissing me on the forehead first. “She’s all grown up.” She fusses over Malia, but every feature of the angel is still buried in my shoulder. She’s asleep, her small like snores causing my heart to beat in tune with hers.
“Mom, Wells has her. I mean, she went to him, and it’s kind of reminiscent since he’s the one who carried her out of her house so many years ago. Let her be, and we can go back upstairs. One of us will be down with her at all times until she wakes.” Jules pulls her mom to her feet, her silent acknowledgment it will be me. Jules knows me, and with the resolve in my eyes, it’s a moot point to argue. I’m not going anywhere.
My breathing aligns with the movement