Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,91

comfortable.

Because I wasn’t there yet.

Naked in her bed though? That was a different story.

“Did your parents ever… lay their hands on you?” she asked, voice soft and gentle. Face open and non-judgmental.

I weighed out the consequences of telling the truth. But couldn’t I be honest with a woman that was now my girlfriend?

“Do you mean was I ever hit?” I asked. “Yes.”

Her nostrils flared. But she didn’t speak yet.

“Getting smacked around was part of the culture there,” I admitted. The member hitting me for knocking his beer over wasn’t the only time. “Georgie, not so much. But I took backhands from Rip.”

She placed her hand over my heart, cupping it—like she was keeping it safe. “No one deserves that. I’m so, so sorry.”

“They’re not worth your apologies,” I said. “My parents are worth less than dog shit on the bottom of a shoe. The only reason they’re even present in my life right now is because—”

Her mouth pinched with concern. “Wait. Have they contacted you?”

I lifted a shoulder. Looked away. “I… think I’ve seen them a couple times. Riding past Lucky Dog. It’s their usual intimidation.”

“But I thought you said you hadn’t spoken or interacted with them in twenty years.”

“I haven’t.”

“Until I put Lucky Dog all over the internet,” Luna said, fingers clenching in the sheets. I covered them with my own. I felt comfortable telling her about the times Rip slapped me around. I didn’t feel comfortable telling her that the few ride-bys I’d glimpsed had me afraid for the first time in two decades.

“I gave you permission,” I said. “All of this is because of them. Not you. It’s their fault. And the fault of the media. Of gossip.”

Her eyes searched mine. “I feel responsible. Dragging you into a spotlight you said you didn’t want.”

“Except now my nonprofit is actually raising funds for the first time ever and more dogs are going to get rescued,” I countered. “And now I have you.”

Her breath hitched. Her fingers traced my jaw, swept along my lower lip. “I’m opposed to violence. But I would commit real atrocities against your parents, Beck.”

“Stay peaceful,” I said, half-chuckling. “Not worth it, remember?”

“You’re worth it though,” she said, leaning in for a lingering kiss.

And then she lay back down on my chest, falling asleep shortly after. And I held Luna like that all night long, breathing in her sunshine scent, wondering how the hell I’d gotten so lucky.

Terrified that it couldn’t last.

48

Luna

One week later

“What would be the foundation’s focus areas?” Sylvia asked me. We were sitting in the Wild Heart conference room with Rebecca, my CFO, and Jasmine. The real work of the foundation would start next week—there was lots of structure and strategy to work out before we could begin—but I was too excited to wait. I thought Sylvia and I could put our heads together about the vision. And most importantly: the impact.

“Three focus areas,” I said, reading from notes I’d scribbled late last night. Beck had fallen asleep with his shaggy head on my lap on the couch. I’d stroked his hair and dreamed my way through ideas. “People. Animals. The environment. Divided like that. Grantees who fit in those categories would apply specifically and maybe… maybe each category would have its own team of people. A program officer… a separate budget. Different priorities to fit those category needs.”

“You could site visit,” Sylvia suggested. “It’ll be hard with your schedule but—”

“I’d love to,” I said, letting my heart feel that glow.

“It’ll make great press,” Jasmine cut in. “Luna da Rosa, back to changing the world.”

“I’m not having my company start a foundation to garner good press,” I corrected Jasmine.

“It doesn’t mean we can’t garner good press from it,” she shot back. “The fate of Wild Heart ultimately lies with your ability to ensure the public trusts you again. A process that can be sped up with a story like this. You get to donate your money. The nonprofits get to receive money. The extra bump to your reputation is an added bonus.”

But the tone of her voice was starving at the phrase bump to your reputation.

I looked to Sylvia, who was regarding me closely. “What makes you feel uncomfortable about this, Luna?” she asked.

I pulled my hair over one shoulder and mindlessly braided it.

“Being manipulative,” I said. “Using the foundation as a way to make people like me. I’d never want to be that person. It’s… slimy.”

“You don’t get where you are in the world without a bit of slime, trust me,”