Keeping Her - Jordan Marie Page 0,64

Why didn’t you tell me that shit? This ass-clown has made your life hell,” I bark, not able to control my reactions to everything she’s telling me. Part of me knows that she’s also glossing over this shit. She’s completely skating over it, her voice monotone—telling me without words that it’s worse than anything I’m imagining in my head.

“There’s no point. There’s nothing you can do, and Dewayne has pretty much left me alone for the last few months. I figure maybe he’s grown bored.

“Or maybe you’ve just been in Virginia and he hasn’t seen you enough to cause you shit.”

“Maybe,” she agrees with a shrug. Then she turns her head to look at me, I can see unshed tears in her eyes, glowing, but I also see a strength in her eyes. It glows on her face and she looks at me with a purpose. “I’m not a whore, Luke.”

“Damn it, Red, don’t you think I know that?”

“The things I did, what happened, I thought it was a safe relationship. I thought I was loved. I didn’t particularly enjoy parts of it and maybe others I did—”

“Red, stop,” I tell her, hating that she’s beating herself up over any of this fucking shit.

“Still, it’s nothing I would want long term. It’s nothing I want with you. I love you, if another woman touched you, I’d want to kill her,” she says, her voice defiant.

“Baby—”

“And I never want another man touching me but you. You need to believe that,” she’s daring me to argue, everything about her defensive.

She’s breaking my heart.

I pick her up then, no longer content with her body just pulled against mine. I pick her up so that she’s cradled in my lap. Our gazes lock and I don’t waiver, I don’t even blink.

“Your past is yours. I have one. We all fucking do, Red. It marks us, makes us who we are. You don’t feel ashamed of it. You hold your head high. You are one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. You walk into a room and you fucking own it. I’m so damn proud that I’m the fucker you’ve claimed, Red. Don’t you ever forget that. I’m thankful as hell you want to be a part of not only my life, but that of my daughter and one day, when Daisy grows up, I know she’s going to be a strong woman too, because she will have learned from the best.

“Luke…”

“She will have learned from you and so will any other children we have.”

“You want kids with me?” she asks.

“I want everything with you, baby.”

“For a man who has a reputation as someone who doesn’t talk, Luke, you sure know how to make a woman’s knees grow weak.

“Just being honest, baby.”

She nods, and a lone tear slides from the corner of her eyes. I find myself catching it by kissing the salty droplet.

When I pull away, her over-bright eyes are shining like diamonds and I feel her body trembling in my arms.

“I love you, Luke.”

“Show me,” I tell her, kissing her, because I need to physically make love to her, bare the emotions I feel without words. I want to prove to her, mind to mind, body to body, flesh to flesh, that she’s loved. Somehow, I know that will mean more in this moment.

I don’t know why I do, but I do just the same. This is how the two of us work together and I’m damn grateful.

42

Grunt

“I don’t have anything against you…”

Whenever someone starts off a sentence like that—especially one of the first sentences they’ve directed at you—you can pretty much translate that to mean they have everything against you. From the look on Jasmine’s father’s face, that’s definitely true right now. We’re out on the back deck of their home. He brought me out here under the pretense of showing me his bike—which was a sweet, classic Indian, but that was neither here nor there. We both knew what the topic of conversation would be. I’m not looking at him. I’m looking through the wide expanse of glass in front of me, which is really three sets of French doors surrounded by large glass panes that look over the Appalachian Mountains. The house is made of hewn logs and is definitely gorgeous, fitting in its surroundings perfectly. That’s not what is holding my attention though. It’s seeing Jasmine sitting on the floor, working a puzzle with Daisy, while Carrie is sitting on a stool at the counter, laughing and talking