Recipe for Temptation - Gina Gordon Page 0,61
that night in the hut was a sign. One that went off with warning bells and neon lights. He was never meant to tell her about his past. His story was repeating itself. He had dropped his guard, and it had blown up in his face.
“Yes, I do.”
He looked up at her. She was holding herself back. He could tell by the way her feet were firmly planted on the floor, but her upper body was tilted forward, as if wanting to make contact. Or smack him upside the head.
“You opened up to me that night in the hut and walking on the beach,” she said. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, I’m pretty sure you would have told me more.” She swiped at her cheeks. “And I want to know. All of it.”
He placed the weight onto the floor and stood before brushing past her on his way to the door. It was a dick move. But he needed to touch her one last time before saying good-bye.
Her hand shot out and gripped his bicep. “Don’t you dare walk out on me now. Talk to me! Please!” She was desperate. He heard it in her voice. It quivered and cracked as she spoke.
“No.”
And then she did something, sank to a level he didn’t think possible.
“Cole. I’m not your mother.”
At that moment, his heart broke. Shattered into a million pieces. Not only because he couldn’t have Penn, the only woman on earth who understood him, the only woman he might ever love, but because she had hit the nail right on the head. Without even having to tell her about his past, she had figured it out.
Was he really that transparent?
He regarded her warily. And although his heart was breaking, he felt nothing. Not anger. Not sadness. Not relief.
Nothing.
“Is that what you think of me?” he snarled. “That I’m a sad, sorry man with mommy issues?”
Exactly what you are.
She shook her head. “I just don’t get you. Help me understand. We all have baggage.” She let out a humorless laugh. “I just spent the last six days allowing you to witness mine firsthand.”
He snorted. “You don’t know anything about baggage.”
She finally released his arm, but he didn’t run away. Instead he faced her head on.
“You have no fucking idea how lucky you were.” She took for granted every happy moment of her childhood. Her family might have flaws, but… “Normal is all I wanted my entire childhood. Normal. Stereotype. Belonging.”
Hell, his entire life.
She gave him a long, questioning look, the gears turning in her head. “Is that what this is all about? You wanted to be a part of my family?”
“Christ.” He swiped his hands over his face. “What the hell do you want from me?”
“I want the truth.” She stomped her foot on the ground like a toddler. As if her tantrum was going to make him cave. “I want to know everything.” She looked at him defiantly.
His words came out like a growl. “No, you don’t. No one wants to know this kind of thing. My own damn mother didn’t love me. Not enough to change. Not enough to keep me.” He stepped closer, towering over her. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Penn?”
The desperation in her eyes faded away. She looked up at him with a mixture of fear and sorrow.
“Do you want to hear about how I had to steal in order to eat? That I had a mother who was too interested in fucking men for money that she forgot to buy groceries? That the reason I can’t talk dirty is because I’d fall asleep to the sounds of disgusting men talking to my mother like a whore, saying those same things?” He laughed. “You know the funny thing about all that? She was a whore.”
She stepped back. Pulled away from him, folding her arms across her abdomen as if keeping in the disgust.
Just as he’d suspected.
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “None of it.”
“I know that,” he barked. “But that doesn’t change what happened.” He kicked the weight hard, hoping it would make him hurt less inside, but even the sharp pain exploding in his foot didn’t curb the ache in his soul.
Cole’s body collapsed at the thought, and he sank down onto the bench, dropping his head in his hands. His throat tightened. Not because he was fighting to hold back tears. Not because the bile rising from his stomach threatened to spill out with one forceful heave.
Every molecule in his body told