I felt his rough thumb swipe with an unnatural tenderness across the tops of my cheeks, brushing away the streaks of tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“Please don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, placing his forehead against mine again in an incredibly intimate gesture.
The overwhelming emotion of the moment caused more tears to fall, and I let out a small chuckle. I had a man standing in front of me declaring his desire to be with me and my child, and I was crying.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying,” I apologized, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. He once again used the pad of his thumb to swipe beneath my lashes, gathering the remnants of my mascara to keep it from running.
“Don’t apologize for feeling,” he remarked with sincerity. “You have every right to be scared and hesitant, given all that you’ve been through.”
I leaned my head back against the window of the truck and closed my eyes, taking a big breath and releasing it slowly to calm my racing heart. Trauma had a way of ruining even the most special of moments. All it takes is one fleeting glance, one wrong word, one second of hesitation to undo all the progress you’ve made. Max continued stroking his thumb across my hip bone in a silent show of solidarity.
“When you hesitated, my mind started spiraling. All I could hear was Dean’s voice calling me worthless, useless, unloveable…” I trailed off, chancing a glance up at him.
I could see the slight tick in his jaw as he fought the urge to rage against a man he had no possibility of fighting in my honor. There would be no retribution for all the hurt and anguish Dean had caused me over the years. I had to learn to live with that fact and if Max was going to be in my life, he would too.
“I wish I could kill that fucker for what he put you through,” he seethed.
“Well, it’s a good thing someone already took care of that for you, because I don’t really think you’d look good in orange ,and you’re too pretty to be someone’s bitch.” I said with a tender smile as I patted his cheek. That got him to crack a small smile, and he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine in the softest of kisses.
“I’m sorry if I ruined the rest of our date,” I said solemnly. Max chuckled and brushed a stray tear from my chin.
“The date’s not quite over yet. I haven’t walked you to your door,” he teased while reaching behind me to pop the handle of the passenger door. He held my hand as he assisted me up onto the running board and into my seat. Before hecould shut the door, I leaned over, grabbing ahold of the front of his shirt and tugged his lips roughly against mine.
“Thank you, Max,” I mumbled against his lips. “Thank you for showing me what it means to be cherished.”
“If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of the days I have left showing you how much you and Charlie mean to me.” he said with a quick peck to my lips before buckling my seatbelt and walking around to the driver’s side.
When he climbed into the truck and started it, he didn’t hesitate to rest his hand on my thigh in a possessive gesture. He acted as if he wanted to keep me constantly aware of his desire, a subtle but persistent reminder.
He was giving me the reassurance I craved.
EIGHTEEN
stella
True to his word,Max drove me back to the house and walked me to my bedroom door like a southern gentleman. Even though his intentions were altruistic, we proceeded to make out against the hallway wall like a pair of horny teenagers.
The only thing that broke us from our lust induced haze was a tiny whimper from Charlie’s room across the hall. The sound, like a shock of icy water, jolted us back to reality; that we weren’t two horny teenagers, but two adults with responsibilities.
His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his large hands cradling the side of my neck as he leaned down and kissed me with the gentlest touch of his lips, his murmured goodnight barely audible above the beating of my heart.
What I felt for Max was more than attraction; it was a primal pull, a deep yearning I couldn’t ignore. Even after all the years I spent with Dean, well, our good ones, I’d never once felt this deep-seated desire that left me breathless. Maxmade me come alive with every touch, and I was glad that the feelings weren’t one-sided.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of soft crooning country music coming from the kitchen. I rolled over with a huge smile on my face and stretched out the stiffness of a good night’s sleep. After checking the baby monitor to see that Charlie was already up and cared for, I made my way towards the delicious smell of bacon and coffee.
At eight in the morning, the kitchen was already a whirlwind of activity, filled with the clatter of dishes and cheerful chatter. Seated around the table were Wade, Ray, Max, Charlie, and Pops. Confused by the sudden family breakfast, and the aroma of a full three-course meal wafting from the kitchen, I paused in the doorway.
Beside Charlie, Max spooned scrambled eggs, apparently her new favorite meal, onto her tray. She attempted to use the baby spoon to scoop them into her mouth, but gave up and shoveled the eggs in with her hands.
The sight of the family seated around the table, a warm glow illuminating their faces, filled me with a wistful longing; their happy chatter creating a comforting atmosphere.
Family breakfasts were never a part of my childhood, even on the rare occurrence that both of my parents were actually home on a weekend.
Did Charlie and I have a permanent place here in this little group? Or were we just bystanders that seemed to mesh well into their carefully built institution at the current moment? I squashed down the self-deprecating thoughts that seemed to pop up every time I started letting my guard down and continued my descent upon the brewed coffee.
“Mornin’,” Pops called over the top of his own coffee cup.
“Good Morning.”
