Forbidden With Me - Leigh Lennon Page 0,47
pitch.
“Come here.” He takes a wad of paper towels, putting pressure on my finger. “Sit down and let me get the first aid kit.” He’s under the sink, but then in my space again in a matter of seconds. “I’m really sorry, Malia, for everything.”
I could be shy and timid. Fuck, if anyone has an excuse for that, I sure the hell do. But I don’t. I stare at him until he can feel my gaze on his skin, as he turns his eyes to me.
“I’m not going to entertain for one second that our kiss was a mistake.” I declare these words as boldly as I can make them fall from my tongue. “I’m going to care for you my whole life. And if you can’t get on board with that, it’s your fucking loss.”
He lets out a deep belly chuckle. “Fuck, you just say it as it is, don’t you?”
The antiseptic stings, but I don’t bother with this minor sensation. “When you’ve lost as much in your life as I have, I don’t have time for frivolities. But I’m not going to pursue you. Obviously, I’ve never been shy about how I care for you, so it’s in your court.” I stand, pushing away the chair. “And since I’ve bled all over some of the dinner, I’m ordering pizza. But for now, I need to be left alone.” I push to my feet, and I’ve shocked the man in front of me. His mouth is hanging wide open as I rotate my body toward the guest room.
The door to his home office is open, and when I stop at the doorway, the pictures on the desk almost beckon me to push past all my fears. Closing the distance, I pick up the first picture. It’s Annie. Seeing her lifeless and choked is an out-of-body experience as my eyes stay fixed on the bracelet, it was certainly what the crime scene photographer was trying to focus on. It was odd. I remembered that bracelet. In all the times Annie and Gracie would allow me in their rooms, the last couple of times had been what I’ve clung to through the years.
A week before the murders, I’d noticed Gracie and Annie whispering about it. And since my sister rarely wore jewelry, it was odd to me she had it. I remember reading the letters that matched the color of the brown beads. If Annie could be described as anything, it would be an earthy free-loving spirit, and I loved it about her. The bracelet just fit her style. Gracie knew, but she had never told me.
My eyes fixate on this picture as I grab another photo, who I think is Annie. But it’s not. It has to be the girl from last night—the copycat case. The young girl, who had looked so much like Annie, has the same bracelet on. How can this be a coincidence? I don’t realize tears are falling down my face until one ripples onto the pictures I have in my hands.
“Malia?” His voice is calming, and I drop the pictures, flinging myself into his arms. The confident girl I had been just minutes ago is no longer the person in my body. I’m back to being the scared little girl Wells found so long ago, and like back then, I let him comfort me.
I’m not sure how I get there. I don’t think I walk. Maybe he picks me up, but when my tears stop falling from my eyes, I stare up, and he has me cradled in his arms, sitting on his lap in an overstuffed chair against the same wall that houses one of my paintings.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He’s whispering this in my ear, over and over again.
“Are you saying it so you believe it, too?” I whisper back his way.
His hands whip around and push back my hair, falling in my face. “What we have makes no sense to me. You know this, right?” I don’t nod my head because I don’t know it. “I’ve dated women for months, even years, and never felt the connection you and I share, and especially over something that happened so long ago, and over the few letters we corresponded with.”
“Love doesn’t always have to make sense.” Fuck, did I just tell him I love him? Of course, I know this, but he doesn’t have to.
“And this is what you think we share.” His hands rub my forearms, and with his touch, his comfort is