by Harlow James
“No. I think we need to talk.”
His heads hangs between his shoulders instantly. “It’s after one in the morning, Sydney,” he grates as I follow him inside and shut the door.
Throwing my purse on the counter, a bolt of anger flashes through me and I let it all out. “I don’t give a fuck what time it is, Javi. We’re talking about what happened tonight.”
“I’m not a fucking child. Don’t talk to me like you’re my goddamn mother,” he bellows back at me, turning to face me while his face grows fierce in the shadows of the light above the stove in the kitchen. It’s the only light on right now, casting an ominous glow over everything in the main part of the house.
“I know, but you’re acting like a child and I’m sick of it. I’ve been patient, compassionate, and earnestly waiting for you to tell me why you went to prison. I’ve desperately been trying to convince myself that it wasn’t a big deal, that I’m not dating a man that is capable of God knows what. But tonight, I got the story from your sister and now I have some questions.”
Javi’s eyes widen right before they squint into narrow slits. “Selena fucking told you?”
“Yeah, she did. And you know what, I’m glad!” My hands travel out far and wide as I emphasize my point. “It’s about time I knew, and part of it was her story to tell too!”
Javi’s shoulders fall now as he chest rises and falls. “Is that all?”
His response has me taken aback. “What do you mean is that all?”
He swallows hard, gaining his footing while he studies me. “You’re … you’re not leaving? You’re not scared of me?”
Those words, his questions—that’s the reason he’s been keeping this to himself. “Did you think that once I knew I’d leave?”
Javi doesn’t respond, he just continues to stand there, filling the room with his presence and the desperation radiating off of him.
My feet carry me toward him.
My mind has me searching his eyes.
But my heart has my lips moving to his, catching him off guard until he melts into my touch.
As our lips touch and I slide my tongue across his mouth, begging for entrance, our arms encircle one another simultaneously and we melt into each other.
This man has some of the roughest edges I’ve ever brushed up against. The scrape against him has stung from time to time, but it doesn’t take away from the beauty he holds inside, the robust stone his soul is carved from.
When we part, I grip his face in my hands and force him to look at me. “I’m not going to lie to you. I was scared earlier when I saw your reaction to that guy. But I didn’t know the whole story. Once Selena told me, it all made sense. I would never be afraid of you, Javier Montes. And no, I’m not leaving you. Knowing what you did for your sister, in retribution for what Jesus did to her, if anything, it makes me fall for you even more.”
His eyes close and in seconds he wraps me tightly to his chest, breathing me in deeply before blowing out a hot rush of air. “I was so fucking scared that you would see me as a monster, as a man who can’t control his temper. I didn’t want you to think of me that way.”
Staring intently into his eyes again, I reassure him once more. “I would never. What you did was instinctual, serving justice where it needed to be served.”
“I almost killed him, Princess.”
“I don’t blame you. Although, I’m glad you didn’t because then you wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re honestly okay with this? With my past?” Our eyes bounce back and forth as I brush the errant hairs from his forehead.
“I am. In some strange way, it makes me feel like you’d defend my honor too. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted from a man. Someone who would stand up for me in my time of need, someone that I feel I could depend on no matter what.”
“Fucking Christ, I don’t deserve you.” He presses his lips against mine with more intensity than before and then I’m flying in the air as my legs wrap around his waist and I settle into his arms. Javi walks us back to his room where he makes love to me before we lie there breathlessly in the dark, with no more secrets between us.
Chapter 29
Javier
To say I’m nervous right now would be an understatement. I’m more like, borderline about to pass the fuck out.
Last week at The Jameson forced me to admit my past to Sydney completely and she didn’t run for the fucking hills. Instead, she showed me love. She didn’t say the words, but goddamn, I felt them in the way she touched me, in the way her gaze never wavered from mine as I moved inside of her. This girl I thought I knew all those years ago has shown me the power of compassion, understanding, and second chances.
She is my second chance—a woman I never thought could be the one to heal me from the shadows I feel follow me around every corner. But with her near, rays of light break through and are exposing the brighter parts of life to me every day.
The one thing left for me to do is show her father that I am a man deserving of her, yet I’m not sure he’ll ever believe it—and truthfully, there are days where I don’t as well.
Sydney has been in minimal communication with her parents since her brothers’ graduation over a month ago. She’s blown off family dinners, cancelled lunch plans that her father tried to set up, and has ignored her parents’ calls as well. It’s sad that at her age she literally has to push them away to get them to listen to her, but my woman is damn determined when she wants to be, and her message has apparently been heard.
Her father showed up at her condo two nights ago, demanding to speak with her. Since the guard at the gate knows he’s usually an accepted visitor, he let him through. The phone call full of emotion I got from her after he left was like a beacon, signaling the end of the blissful bubble we’d been living in. Even though Sydney is still furious with him for trying to force her to live her life a certain way, he’s still her dad and she wants to have him in her life. She assured me that he seemed eager to meet me, since he’s obviously been having her followed this entire time and knows about our relationship.
So now I’m standing on the front steps of a colonial-style home on the other side of town, neck craned back as I stare at the deep, mahogany door closed in front of me—the metaphorical obstacle standing between me and acceptance. I’m not sure whose acceptance I’m fighting for though—her parents’ or Sydney’s herself.
Even though she’s promised me that I’m the man she wants, that little boy inside that’s never felt good enough, the one who fights demons daily that undermine what I think I’m worthy of—he’s eager to share his thoughts, especially right now.
“Hey,” she says, attempting to soothe me with her voice. I stare down at our intertwined fingers as I gather my wits. “He really wants to meet you. And I told him that if he’s an ass in any way, I won’t step foot back in this house.”
I huff out a laugh. “You said that?”
“Yeah, I did,” she replies on a sincere smile. “I’m not going to let him disrespect you and our relationship. No matter what he thinks, I’m leaving here with you and we’re going back to one of our homes and spending the night together, alright?”
I lean over and press my lips to hers softly, holding our touch for just a moment too long as the door opens and a man larger than life peers down at us.
George Matthews has a commanding presence about him that increases the intimidation factor ten-fold the moment our eyes meet. He’s at least four inches taller than my six foot, with dark brown hair streaked with grays. Black-framed glasses perch on his nose and the smell of his expensive cologne smacks me in the face once I remember to breathe again.
“Sydney,” he voices on a smile, reaching for her to pull her in for a hug, effectively breaking the hold I had on her. As her face is buried in his chest, his eyes peer over the top of her head in a heated stare that starts to eviscerate any confidence I had from the inside out.
“Hi, Dad.” She smiles up at him with a reluctant lift of her lips
, and then turns around to face me, holding her hand out in introduction. “I’d like you to meet Javier Montes.”
My hand lurches forward awkwardly while I try to gain my footing, reaching to shake his hand as he meets me halfway. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Matthews.”
“Judge Matthews,” he corrects in a tone reminding me of his power. Surely the man has gone through my background with a fine-tooth comb once he realized I was seeing his daughter, so he knows about my past and is subtly reminding me of it.
“Judge,” I reply as Sydney rolls her eyes.
“Come on in, Javi.” She reaches for my hand, locking our fingers together once more as I cross the threshold into the Matthewses’ home.
If I thought Sydney’s place was nice, this house borderlines as a mansion. Cream-colored marble floors shine in recessed lighting. Beige colored walls accent deep brown furniture in the main living room. As I follow Sydney’s lead past a hallway and staircase, we step foot into a kitchen that belongs in a magazine. Black cabinets accompany white marble countertops and the same tile that’s in the rest of the house. Stainless steel pots rest on the stove as a woman that looks identical to Sydney turns around to acknowledge us.
“Hi, sweetie.” She pulls Sydney in for a hug as her eyes assess me quickly. When they part, she puts on the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, which leads me to believe it must be fake.
“You must be Javier …”
Stepping forward to shake her hand, I meet her soft palm with my own. “Yes. Nice to meet you Mrs. Matthews.”
“Likewise. And please, call me Heather. It’s about time we meet the man Sydney has been spending so much time with.”
“Well, ask Dad why I’ve been M.I.A. and you’ll have your answer.” Sydney steps in close to me and rubs my back supportively as she puts her mother in her place. The moment her hand touches me, I wonder if she can feel the sweat dripping down my back. It’s the main reason why I wore a black shirt tonight.
“Dinner is almost ready,” her mother speaks, bypassing Sydney’s comment completely as her father arrives in the kitchen holding two glasses of scotch. “Why don’t you open a bottle of wine for us, dear?”
“I guess I can do that,” Sydney murmurs as she leaves me alone once again and her father steps directly in front of me, holding out a tumbler full of amber liquid.
“Here you go, Javier,” he says as his arms stretches toward me.
“Oh, um … thank you, but I don’t drink and drive.” If I were a teenager, I’d pass that test with flying fucking colors right now. Instead, the man in front of me looks like I’ve got a screw loose.
Taunting me with a lift of his brow, his voice rises a few levels. “Oh? Is that so? And why would that be?”
“I have my reasons,” I grate out. No matter what this man tries to do this evening to prove a point, I don’t owe him an explanation about how I choose to live my life.
“I’m sure you do.” He lifts one glass to his lips to take a sip, never moving his eyes from mine. When he drops the glass down, he marries the two glasses into one and then sets the empty one on the counter beside him.
“Time to eat, everyone,” Sydney’s mother calls out, breaking through some of the tension as we all move to the formal dining room and take our seats.
Sydney’s parents sit on one side of the table and Sydney and I sit across from them. Everyone digs into their food as a lingering silence accompanies the scraping of forks on glass plates.
“So, Javier. What is it that you do?” Sydney’s mom addresses me right as I take a bite of pork roast. I make sure to finish chewing before answering her.
“I work for Gibson Construction, ma’am.”
“Wait. I thought you worked at the gym?” she adds.
I nod. “I work there as well.”
“Two jobs, huh? That seems quite demanding,” George interjects.
“It is. But it’s hard work and I enjoy it. I’ve been able to do quite well for myself.”
“I couldn’t imagine working two jobs. You must be exhausted all of the time,” Heather adds.
I feel like telling her that keeping up with her daughter in the bedroom at night is really what depletes me of my energy, but I figured that wouldn’t be appropriate.
“I don’t know any different, ma’am. I was raised to work. Plus, my job at the gym is more to help out my best friend who owns it.”
“Yes. Andre is Javi’s best friend, who’s also married to his sister,” Sydney adds, smiling over at me.
“So is that who you’ve been spending time with as well?”
“Mom, please don’t act like you don’t already know the answers to these questions,” Sydney chastises as her mother sits back in her seat.
“Don’t talk to your mother like that, Sydney,” George commands, stirring up animosity once more.
“Well, don’t sit here and berate Javi because he’s a hardworking man. I admire his work ethic. He certainly hasn’t had anything handed to him in his life.” Her eyes find her father’s as she delivers that jab.
“Well, I guess I can attest that a good work ethic is admirable.” George takes another sip of his scotch as his eyes bounce back and forth between Sydney’s and myself.
“Sydney, I forgot to tell you, but the next Chamber of Commerce mixer is in two weeks. Were you planning on coming to this one?” Her mother must be the queen of changing the topic because this is the third time she’s done this now once tension rises between Sydney and her dad.
My girl shrugs beside me. “Probably not. Javi and I are probably busy.”
I cast my vision in her direction, wondering if she has a death sentence tonight. I know my girl can be feisty, but it seems she’s intent on making a point to her parents, but we’re both in the cross fire now.
“Well, perhaps he can come with you.”
My tongue lodges itself in my throat the minute the suggestion is made. I don’t belong at a function like that, where hundreds of people can pass judgment on our relationship. The little reminder of how different our worlds are starts to creep its way up my spine and wreak havoc in my brain as we continue to eat.
“Maybe. We’ll see.” Sydney flashes her mom a tight-lipped smile as the conversation dies and I move to stuff my mouth, even though my hunger is virtually nonexistent.
After dinner, Sydney helps her mother clean up in the kitchen and George invites me back to his study to talk. I knew a moment like this would happen tonight, but I didn’t think it would happen this soon.
Reminding myself that Sydney is worth the unsettled feeling I have in my stomach right now, I follow George down a long hallway to an office that might as well be a bedroom. Shiny wooden walls encase burgundy carpet and a large, regal desk is centered against the back wall. A mini bar rests to the left of his desk and two couches create a sitting area in the back of the room.
George moves to refill his scotch before motioning for me to take a seat with him on the couches. I try to get comfortable, but it’s hard when you feel like you need to be prepared for anything. I’m not above hitting the man, but I also know it won’t make things any better in this situation.
“Javi, I’m going to level with you here,” he says as he settles into the leather cushions and I lean back slightly against mine.
“Okay …”
“I know about your past son. I know everything about you really. How you grew up, the fact that your dad died when you were thirteen, and that you went to prison not that long ago for aggravated assault.” He eyes me over the rim of his glass, waiting for my reaction.
As my heart races, I reply, “I figured as much.”
“So, you can imagine how a man like me, a man from my background, feels about a man like you dating my daughter.”
Drawing in a deep breath of air and courage, I prepare my argument. “Well, with all due respect, Judge Matthews, I think that’s Sydney’s decision to make.”
“Ah, yes. I figured you’d say something like that. Well, let me be clear
with you,” he voices while leaning forward now and bracing his forearms on his elbows, so I do the same. Our heads are mere inches from each other, so close that I can smell the scotch coming off his tongue. “She might think that she knows what she wants, but she will realize soon that the two of you are far too different to work. You are the bad boy that she’s using to get back at me, trying to prove her independence by dating a man that is everything I don’t want for her. I love my daughter, but I don’t think she knows what she wants yet. There will come a moment when everything will click and she’ll coming running back to me, telling me I was right. I know what’s best for my daughter, and I know you’re not it.”
Intensity bounces back and forth between us as I contemplate my response. Do I unleash the fury running through my veins and give him the satisfaction of voicing every doubt I feel myself? Or do I remain stoic, preserve my dignity, and hope to God he’s not right.
Ultimately, I decide on a blend of the two. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Judge Matthews. Yes, I have a past. I was in prison for two years for aggravated assault. I beat a man within an inch of his life and I’d do it again.” He retracts slightly at my admission. “But rest assured, I am a good man who’s just trying to pick up the pieces of his life and be better, do better. Your daughter has helped me become the man I knew I always could be. It’s a shame that you don’t believe in her enough to make decisions for herself.”
“It’s not my daughter’s job to repair you, young man.” He stands up now from the couch, towering over my head, enforcing his superiority over me. “My daughter is too pure for someone like you.”
Pushing myself up from the couch, I look into his eyes and reply, “I know she is. Thank you for the dinner, sir. But I think it’s best if we leave now.”
“I do too.”
By the time we make it back to the kitchen where Sydney and Heather were sitting at the island having glasses of wine, my pulse is firing so fast it’s all I can do to wait for her to say goodbye to her parents.