His Old Lady - Debra Kayn Page 0,69

on the floor and served the drinks.

On most days, she would believe Angela. She was proud of how she'd grown the nursery business from the days when Grandma June was in charge, and she looked forward to the future. The fire was a huge setback, and even with Curley finally claiming her the way he'd promised, she felt beaten and unsure.

She looked toward the door, wishing it to open and Curley to walk in. Where could he be?

Banks walked past her. She grabbed his arm. "Uncle? Have you heard—"

"No, honey. Nothing yet." Banks frowned. "Why don't you take a break and try not to worry."

Frustrated, she rubbed her forehead. "Maybe, I will."

"Take someone with you. Don't go alone."

She nodded and walked over to the group of Tarkio members. Approaching Whip, she asked him to go on a break with her. The extra security wasn't needed. Promise wasn't that busy yet, and the alley behind the bar was safe, but she knew Curley wanted all the girls to be protected.

She pushed out the back door. "Sorry about pulling you away from the others."

"No prob." Whip lit a cigarette. "I get why Curley wants everyone protected while they work, and I agree with him. You can never be too careful."

She nodded. "I wished I knew where he was."

"He's around."

"How do you know that?"

He shrugged. "If he wasn't, we would've heard something."

She inhaled deeply, letting the night air cool her off. The minutes were slowly dragging. Being with Curley made her worry more.

Groaning, she leaned against the wall.

For many years, she wished he'd act like the man who'd claimed her and see her for the woman she was. She couldn't fault him for keeping his distance. She'd been too young to know what she wanted. Attraction, infatuation, her emerging hormones, and her fear of losing another person in her life, she'd done what any seventeen-year-old would do when an older man touched her and whispered things she'd never heard before.

It'd taken her years to understand and accept the way she felt about him. Even when he was mean to her and pushed her away, she'd loved him from a distance.

Outsiders would probably think her love for Curley came from a bad place. But they couldn't see the way he looked at her from day one or the way he softly touched her even when the tone of his voice was the opposite. They couldn't see how he needed her as much as she needed him.

Even when she was too young to understand the draw she had with him, she sensed he needed her in a way that nobody else could help him. It wasn't sadness or anger.

A lot of the time, he'd look at her, and something passed between them. It made her heart pound, and she was desperate to help him. But help him how?

Maybe everything happened for a reason, and now it was their time. Maybe he'd allow her to love him in a way that he needed.

Or maybe he'd abandon her like everyone else had in her life, either by selfishness, circumstances, or death.

"Hey, are you okay?" Whip tossed his cigarette and stepped closer.

Pressing a hand to her chest, she gulped for air. She couldn't fill her lungs. She couldn't lose Curley. He couldn't leave her the way the rest of them had.

Her hands tingled, and warmth flashed over her skin, and she shook inside. She needed Curley. She needed him now.

The back door opened. She jerked her gaze away from Whip and met stormy dark eyes coming toward her.

Her body gave up in relief. Curley wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her to his chest. The breath she needed was once again escaping her, but she was okay. He was okay. She didn't need to breathe when they were together.

"Sh." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm here."

She lifted her cheek off him, and he peppered kisses on her forehead, her nose, and finally her mouth.

Shaking, she clung to him, kissing him back. His possessive hand cupped the back of her head, and she melted, letting him console her. He was here.

He came back.

"I'm sorry," she murmured against his lips, unable to stop kissing him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." He rubbed his mouth against her. "I'm here."

Breathing heavily, she needed to tell him. "I want you to love me."

"Jesus, Faye." He exhaled harshly, pushing her back inches and holding her face. "You don't have to ask. I've always loved you."

"You do?" Suddenly feeling eight years old, unsure of what tomorrow