“No.” He didn’t realize it at the time, but his father had never lived with them. He only “visited” his mother. Even that stopped the day Julian became “the man of the house.”
“Could he have been married?”
Her question had him tipping his head down and studying her. She was disturbingly smart. Much smarter than him. If he thought too long and hard about it, he’d convince himself he wasn’t good enough for her. Not even close. But she was old enough and wise enough to make that decision for herself. And after that nightmare and what he just revealed, she hadn’t kicked his ass out. Not yet.
“Yeah, think he was married to someone else.”
“After he left, he never came back to visit?”
Not after that day. The day his mother cried about giving his father an ultimatum. At the time, Julian didn’t understand what that meant, but Shade knew now. His mother tried to force his father’s hand to leave his wife, and whatever kids he had with her, to be with her and Julian. “Don’t think so.”
“I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “For what?”
“For everything,” she said softly.
He ran a thumb across the soft skin over her cheekbone. “Ain’t nothin’ you did.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry about it.”
“No reason to be.” It wouldn’t change a damn thing.
“How can I not feel for a little boy who lost his father, then his mother, and then his childhood?”
“Got a big heart, beautiful.”
She shook her head. “I’m a mother. I can’t even imagine...” Her face twisted like she was about to cry again.
Chelle putting herself in his mother’s situation was one of the reasons he didn’t want to tell her. He had been right. It had to be difficult to be a mother and not wonder what it would be like if the same happened to her daughters that happened to him.
“Don’t gotta. Your girls are grown and safe.”
“Are they? What’s to stop someone from grabbing either one of them and auctioning them off just like your mother? Enslaving them or forcing them into prostitution. Or... whatever those bastards do.” She rose to her feet and turned to look out over her dark backyard with one hand on her hip and the other pressed to her forehead.
Fuck. “Chelle...” He grabbed the crutches and pulled himself to his feet, hobbling the one step needed to close the gap between them. He pressed his chest into her back and his face against the side of her neck. “This is why I didn’t wanna tell you.”
She turned and tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her arms around his waist. “No, I’m glad you did. I needed to know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let my imagination run wild.” She laughed awkwardly. “I might need a hit of that pot now. My mind is racing and I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until it stops.”
“You took the lighter and the pipe from me.”
She glanced over to where those items sat on her abandoned chair. “I... couldn’t.”
“Ever smoke before?”
“When I was a teenager. A few times with friends.”
“Did you like it?”
“I don’t remember.”
“If you need it, it’s there. It’s good shit.”
She laughed softly. “What kind of mother would I be if I smoked pot while my daughters were down the hallway?”
“One who might worry all night about her girls being kidnapped and not be able to sleep.”
She sighed. “Maybe it would’ve been better if you told me in the light of day.”
“Too late now. Grab it.”
She moved away from him, grabbed the stuff off her seat and brought it back to him.
He took it from her fingers, lit what remained in the bowl and pulled a small amount of smoke into his mouth, then he sealed his mouth over hers and while they shared a kiss, she inhaled his hit.
They continued kissing until the smoke escaped her nostrils, then he gave her two more hits by sealing their lips together and sharing kisses. He decided that was enough for now and waited to see how the pot affected her.
It wasn’t long before she melted against him with her arms looped around his neck and her face pressed to his chest. He held her there for a little longer.
He figured she could stand like that forever, but it wasn’t as easy for him with the crutches, so he finally was forced to ask, “Think you can sleep now?”
She nodded slowly against his chest, pulling a smile from him.
“You want, I can go to the spare bedroom.”
She pulled back and frowned. “Why?”
“Still want me sleepin’ next to you?” He wanted to be sure. He needed to be sure what happened to him, even though it was so long ago, didn’t change anything between them.
She actually appeared insulted. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He lost track of how long he stared at her. It could’ve been seconds, minutes or even an hour. Eventually he said, “Beautiful, if I could pick you up and carry you to bed, would do that right fuckin’ now.”
She combed her fingernails down his bearded cheek. “How about if I help you back to bed and we pretend that you did the whole caveman routine.”
“Not the same.”
She rolled her lips under for a second. “I’m not sure even if you were fully healed if you could throw me over your shoulder and take me to bed like a Neanderthal.”
“Wanna bet?”
She shook her head. “No need. I’ll go willingly.”
They both went willingly.
It wasn’t only the premium Kush that put them to sleep, it was her getting on top of him and taking her time to make love to him. Sweetly and slowly.
And that’s what it was. Her love.
Now that he had it, he didn’t know what to do with it.
He’d do his best to figure it out.
Chelle pulled a breath in through her nose and stretched with a groan. Normally when she woke up stiff and sore, she didn’t enjoy the feeling. But this was a welcome discomfort from a very enjoyable reason. She smiled, sighed out all the air from her lungs and rolled to her side. Her eyes popped open and she quickly lost that smile.
Shade’s side of the bed was empty.
Her heart shot into her throat and she sat up, glancing around her bedroom.
His crutches were still propped by the bed, the curtains over the French doors remained closed, the bathroom was dark and the door open.
She closed her eyes, blinked them open once more and glanced at the empty, wrinkled sheets next to her.
Nope, still gone.
It was Saturday and last night, while still draped over his chest and catching their breath from sex, she had discussed getting back to painting this weekend since he was finally allowed to ditch the crutches and brace.
Oh yes, he’d ditched the brace all right. He’d left it on the nightstand next to his side of the bed. She twisted her head to where he’d kept his backpack and cut for the last two weeks. Of course. Those were gone, too.
She closed her eyes again, pressing the heels of her palms against them, stemming the sting.
She was sure there was an explanation.
He wouldn’t just leave, would he?