by Abbi Glines
“Because I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”
He grinned and squeezed my thigh. “I know that feeling.” I laid my head on his shoulder. “So, tell me where we’re going.”
“Well, I had several ideas, but none of them seemed special enough for our official first date.”
That didn’t answer my question. Not that I really cared, but I was getting curious now. “That tells me nothing.”
He chuckled. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”
He was teasing me. “Why do I feel like I got tricked into this conversation without knowing it?”
West kissed my head. “I’ve decided telling you doesn’t make it sound as good as it actually is.”
When he turned to head down a road that led to the field party, I sat up and watched. There weren’t any field parties tonight. What was he doing?
“Are we going to the field?” I asked.
He didn’t respond. A small grin tugged on his mouth, but that was all I got.
So I waited.
Sure enough, West pulled his truck into the empty clearing and cut the engine. He stared straight ahead for a moment then finally turned to me.
“It was here I saw you for the first time. I thought you were beautiful. Might as well know that. You had me with just one glance. But I had left my mom at home with my sick dad, and I was worried. I felt guilty because I was here. I was angry because I couldn’t just be here and enjoy it. My dad was slipping away from me, and I was terrified.” He paused and reached for my hand. “That night I was broken and close to shattering. The pain was becoming unbearable, and I had no one. . . . Then there was you.”
I felt my eyes sting from unshed tears. Thinking over the past month since the first time I’d met him, so much had happened. His pain may have been what had drawn us together, but I would take it away in a second if I could. Even if it meant not having this with him now.
“I took what I wanted that night. You were a distraction at first. You were this gorgeous, silent girl who hid in the shadows. I wanted to lose myself in you. And for a brief moment I did just that. The taste of your lips was sweeter than anything I’d ever experienced. For a second I forgot my pain. My fears. My anger. And I just enjoyed being with you.” He picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles before turning it over and kissing my palm. “I had no idea how precious you were. No idea that I’d just found the one to stand by me, to hold on to me and to help me learn to heal. I’m so thankful you opened up to me and spoke. When I think about not having you, it hurts. I couldn’t have faced what I’ve faced without you.”
A tear slipped free, and West moved his hand to catch it with his finger. “You became the most important part of my life. I don’t want you to ever question that. And I’d like to do-over the first night we met,” he said with a grin.
Do-over?
“What?” I asked, confused, as he opened the truck door.
He stepped down then, turned around, and got my hand to pull me to him. “I want a do-over,” he repeated, then winked at me. “In order to do this right, I need you to go stand over by that tree and look like your usual breathtaking self. Once you’re in place, we are repeating the events of that night. But instead of me being hurt and angry, I’m going to be the guy you needed. The one you healed. I’m going to sweep you off your feet so fast, you won’t know what hit you.”
This time I laughed as another tear slipped free. I nodded and walked over to the tree where I had gotten my first kiss. That night I had been so lonely until West had shown up. He’d brightened my world, and he didn’t even realize it. He thought he needed to do it over.
I disagreed. But I went along with it.
West gave me a thumbs-up when I was standing exactly where he’d seen me that first night. As he walked over just like he’d done then, I wanted to giggle. It seemed silly, but it was sweet. I’d give him that.
“Why are you out here all alone? The party’s in there.” He nodded toward the clearing in the woods.
I bit back my grin. “Am I supposed to talk or be silent? I wasn’t talking back then,” I said quietly, trying to keep a straight face.
West cocked an eyebrow at me and lowered his head until his lips were very close to mine. “You’re not very good at do-overs, are you?” he asked me.
I giggled. “You didn’t make that part clear!”
He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Let’s just get to the good part. I excel at this scene,” he whispered, then covered my mouth with his.
That first night I’d been so unsure. So much had changed since then. I knew exactly what to do now. I slid my hands up his arms, loving the way they flexed under my touch, before holding on to his shoulders.
Our tongues danced and teased while West’s hands moved just under the bottom of my shirt and brushed against my skin. That definitely hadn’t happened that night. But tonight I wanted it to. I lifted my hands higher and locked them around his neck, making my shirt rise and tempting West to touch more.
He did.
Both his hands moved up and cupped my breasts as a small cry that I couldn’t help escaped me. I loved his hands on me and the way they made me feel.
Too suddenly he pulled back. “If I’d done this that night I would have expected you to knee me in the balls,” he said, breathing hard.
“I probably would have fainted.”
He kept his hands on me and brushed his thumb over my nipples through the satin of my bra. I shivered and squirmed, trying to get more.
“We aren’t ready for this part of our night. I have a plan,” he said, his eyes full of the same arousal I was feeling.
“I thought this was your plan,” I said, closing my eyes as he moved his fingertips just inside the satin of my bra. “No, but it is a helluva lot better.”
Take All the Time You Need
CHAPTER 48
WEST
Two weeks later. . .
I held Maggie’s hand as we stood at her mother’s grave. Last night after the game we hadn’t gone to the field to celebrate. Instead we’d packed our bags. Maggie hadn’t been to her mother’s grave since the funeral she barely remembered. When she’d shared that with me, I had wanted to get her there.
I visited my dad’s grave every Saturday morning to tell him about the game the night before. It helped me cope. It made me feel like he was close even if he wasn’t there. I wanted that for Maggie.
Her small hand slipped out of mine as she turned to look up at me. Brady was waiting in the truck for us. His being there was the only way her aunt and uncle would approve of an overnight trip.
“I want to talk to her alone,” Maggie said softly.
I bent down and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Take all the time you need.” Then I turned and left her there to face her past and her pain. I wanted to hold her hand while she did it, but I wasn’t going to force her. I just wanted to be there when she needed me.
Brady glanced over at me and frowned when I opened the passenger door. “You leave her there all alone?”
“She asked to be alone.”
He sighed and picked up his phone and then handed it to me. “Just got this text from my dad. He didn’t call because he was afraid Maggie would hear him. They want to tell her.”
I read the text several times as my stomach twisted and my heart felt heavy.
Her father had hanged himself in his cell this morning. There were no details on how he’d managed to do that. Maggie acted as if he was already dead, but how would this affect her? I turned to look at her as she stood by her mother’s grave.
She had faced so much that I hated adding more to it. I wished I could keep this from her, but I knew she deserved to know. Seeing her hurt was hard.
“I called Dad. He said her dad left her a letter. Dad is going to get it and read it first. We don’t know if she should see it. She just started talking and living life again.”
“Don’t tell her without me there,” I told him.
“We won’t,
” he replied.
One day we would look back at this time, and the pain wouldn’t be so fresh. I wanted that day to get here.
I Cried for Me
CHAPTER 49
MAGGIE
I’d fallen asleep at some point on the drive home. My head was tucked against West, and his arm was around me. I could feel his fingers gently playing in my hair. He made me feel warm and safe. I’d needed that after visiting my mother.
I hadn’t been prepared. Knowing her body was underground was one thing. Seeing the actual grave was another. West’s hand in mine had given me the strength I needed to face it. Once I had been sure I wasn’t about to fall to the ground in a sobbing mess, I’d let him go so I could talk to her.
I’d told her all about life with Uncle Boone, Aunt Coralee, and Brady. I’d started from the day I’d arrived, and I’d tried to tell her all the important things. Especially about West and his dad. When I’d finished, I’d realized West was right. Talking to her had made it feel as if she were close to me somehow.
“Dad’s texting me. He wants to tell her tonight,” Brady’s voice said in a whisper.
Her, as in me? What were they talking about?
West tensed underneath me, and I stayed still, my eyes closed. “She needs a little time after seeing her mom today,” he said so softly, I wondered if Brady could hear him.
Brady sighed. “I agree. I’ll talk to Dad. Your mom’s home again? Right? Didn’t she come home last week?”
West’s mom was home, but she was acting strange. I knew he was worried about her. She had left so abruptly after his father’s death and had gone to stay with her own mother, leaving West to deal with things alone. It didn’t seem like her at all. Now that she was back, she was acting odd. Forgetting things, burning food, sleeping half the day.
“Yeah, she’s home,” he replied. The worry in his voice was obvious. I wanted to hold him and promise him it would all be okay. But I couldn’t do that because I didn’t know for sure that it would be.
I waited to see if they said anything more about what my uncle wanted to tell me. When they didn’t after several minutes, I stretched and slowly sat up.
“About time you woke up. You’ve slept most of the drive,” Brady said in a teasing tone.
West chuckled and pulled me to him as he kissed the top of my head. “Leave my girl alone. She’s had a long day.”
West knew what my uncle Boone was going to tell me. If I asked him, he’d tell me. He wouldn’t keep it from me. I tilted my head up to look at him. He tilted his head down to meet my gaze.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Anything,” he replied. He didn’t have to say more, because I knew what he meant. He’d do anything I needed. Anything I asked of him.
“Can we stop it with the sweet shit, please? Y’all aren’t alone,” Brady said.
West smirked. I loved that smirk.
I waited until West went home to check on his mother before going downstairs to confront my uncle Boone. Brady and West knew something I needed to know, but they both wanted to protect me. As much as I appreciated that, I wanted to know what it was.
Uncle Boone was sitting in his recliner, a book in his hands. He looked up at me over his reading glasses. I saw a brief flicker of concern before he masked it and smiled at me.
“Did you have a good trip?” he asked.
“I needed that. To see her,” I told him. “But I also need to know what it is that Brady and West don’t want me to know yet.”
Uncle Boone frowned and then put his book down before taking off his glasses. “You’ve been through a lot today, Maggie.”
I had. He was right. But that didn’t change the fact I had a right to know this secret that affected me. “I want to know.”
He motioned for me to sit down across from him on the sofa. I considered telling him I would just stand, but I walked over to the sofa and took a seat. He clearly didn’t want to tell me whatever it was, and I knew it had to be something to do with my father.
I gripped my hands tightly in my lap and waited.
Uncle Boone studied me a moment before speaking. “It’s your father . . . ,” he began. The dread and fear that came with those few words sank in. “He’s dead, Maggie. They found him this morning.”
He’s dead.
Two words that should mean sadness, devastation, pain, but that only gave me a sense of emptiness. I wanted to feel relief, but I couldn’t. He’d taken my mother from me. Cut short her life and ruined everything. I wanted to cheer that he was gone. That I’d never see his face again.
But I couldn’t.
Instead I just sat there, repeating those two words over and over in my head. It was over. He’s dead.
The good memories I had of him didn’t outweigh the bad. There were too many bad. Too many sad memories. Too many regrets.
My mother had been a beautiful object he’d wanted to own. In the end he had owned her, then thrown her away as if she were nothing. She’d loved him. I had seen it in her eyes and in the way she wanted to please him. Yet nothing she did was ever good enough. She wasn’t what he’d hoped for, yet he hadn’t been able to release her and let her live her life. He had kept her only to destroy her in the end. To destroy us all.
I always believed he loved me. I had moments where he made me feel cherished and precious. I wondered if my mother had had the same. If that was why she’d loved him so much. But he hadn’t been worthy of our love.
I had hated him. I had wished he were dead.
And now he was.
But there was only emptiness. A void inside me.
“Maggie, I know he was your father. No matter what—”
“No,” I said, stopping Uncle Boone from saying more. “No. He wasn’t my father. He stopped being my father the day he took my mother from me. Don’t tell me you’re sorry for my loss. Don’t say that it’s okay for me to grieve for him, because he’s been dead to me for two years. This just finalizes it.”
Uncle Boone didn’t try to say more. I stood up and hurried back to my room. Where I could be alone. Where I wouldn’t have to talk.
Aunt Coralee came and knocked on my door a few minutes later. I assured her I was okay and wanted to be alone and didn’t want to talk about it.
She didn’t argue with me.
An hour later my bedroom window slid open, and West stepped inside. His face was etched with worry and concern. I stared up at him from my spot on the bed where I was sitting with my knees folded under me. The hollowness where the pain should be shattered, and the first tears broke free.
He was on the bed, pulling me into his arms, before the sobbing started. While I was safely tucked against him, I cried for all I’d lost. All I’d never have. I cried for my mother and how tragically she’d died. I cried for West and his dad. And I cried for me.
Epilogue
WEST
It wasn’t until we were sitting at Brady’s, looking through old photo albums several weeks later, that I realized who she was.
It was the Christmas that Brady and I were in seventh grade. He’d had to go to Tennessee for his family’s Christmas party, and he begged his mom to take me with him. I had been before and I knew how boring it was, but he was my best friend. So I went.
We always took our football and tossed it outside, even in the snow, while the party went on. The only time we went in with everyone was to eat. There weren’t any other kids but a girl. I had seen her a few years ago, the last time I came to this thing, but I hadn’t seen her this visit. Not that I was looking.
Brady had gone inside to help his dad, and I’d decided to explore the house. I didn’t get far before I heard someone crying. I debated going inside the room, hoping whoever it was didn’t notice me standing there in the doorway. But she lifted her head, and the prettiest green eyes I’d ever seen looked directly at me. Long dark hair framed her face. The pink-and-silver bedroom reminded me of something from a fairy tale. It fit her.
She sniffled and continued to
look at me. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to leave her alone or to ask her if I could do something. My momma hadn’t raised me to run off and leave a girl crying, so I’d walked over