Lola wiped at the skin under Laura’s eyes. Her mascara must have run. Even though she couldn’t let herself trust it now, she’d needed this her whole life. Maybe if Lola hadn’t stayed in Cuba, everything would have been different. Maybe her mother would have grown a backbone like Lola’s. Maybe she wouldn’t have married her father at all.
“I’m so sorry, sweet girl.”
Tears threatened again. “I wish—”
“What do you wish?”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re crying in the bathroom at your wedding reception. It’s something.” Lola let her go, and pointed at the closed toilet seat. “Sit.”
Laura obeyed because her grandmother’s tone brooked no objections, and Lola hefted her handbag onto the counter and wetted a washcloth.
“I wasn’t going to tell you this. I wasn’t going to tell anyone this. Not even a priest.” She wiped down Laura’s face. It was soothing, and she couldn’t help but accept her grandmother’s kindness. “But I had my reasons for not moving here. They weren’t good reasons, but they existed. I told myself that I wasn’t going to explain why I’d hurt all of you. That I would just try to make it up to you.”
“Why?”
“Because, even after what he did, I did not want to hurt or embarrass your abuelo.”
Laura got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, as though her body knew she’d been wrong about Lola before her mind did.
“But now that I see how much damage I did—” Lola put down the cloth and rooted around in her purse until she pulled out a cosmetics bag. “Not just to your mother. But to you and your brothers. . .”
“We’re all okay.” It was a lie, but she wanted to make things okay for her grandmother. Not because she had any reason other than her intuition that Lola wasn’t completely at fault for her fucked up family.
“Your grandfather and I had a great deal of passion for one another.”
Her mind flashed to the image of her grandparents making out on the couch like teenagers and she cringed. “Believe me, I’m aware.”
That got a sharp bark of laughter out of her grandmother. “We should not have gotten married. I’m glad we did, because none of you would be here if we hadn’t. But, I wanted to be free, and he wanted a wife who would do his bidding.”
“Sounds like some other people we know.”
“Well, your mother and I never had very much in common. She was so sure that I was the worst wife ever.” Lola smoothed some cream blush across Laura’s cheeks—she’d become a cosmetics junkie since moving to the United States. “And, really, I just had interests other than housekeeping and talking to small children.”
“She used to tell us that we were lucky that she was around so much.” Laura closed her eyes so her grandmother could sweep on a light coating of eyeshadow. “I always wished that she had more to do.”
“Your grandfather wasn’t happy with me, and he found someone else.” Laura blinked open her eyes, and saw the sorrow etched across her grandmother’s face. “I loved him so much, and I became so furious that I refused to listen to him say another word to me.”
“So, you didn’t leave when he found the opportunity to?”
“He wanted to come here to be with her.”
“That bastard.” She felt nauseous. Her sweet, little old grandfather was a filthy philanderer. Her grandmother’s behavior all those years ago made sense, and Laura felt guilty for lashing out a few moments ago. “You certainly seem to be ready to talk to him now.”
“It’s been thirty-five years.” Lola shrugged, and her lips curled. “That woman is dead.”
“So?” If Charlie ever cheated on her, she would never be able to look at him without thoughts of murder again. Shit. That had happened fast. “Aren’t you still angry with him?”
“Of course I am, but love is more complicated than that.”
Laura shook her head, hoping to dislodge thoughts she didn’t want to have. She wouldn’t say she was in love—not out loud—but having a relationship was somehow a lot more complex than having a sham marriage or a quickie annulment had been.
“You’ve forgiven him then?”
Her grandmother stroked the side of her face gently. It was patronizing, but the woman was old. She’d earned the right to be patronizing. “It’s been a long time. Neither of us have forever to be used on holding grudges. I’ve just found that it’s much more pleasurable for me to let things go and enjoy what we have.”
It all sounded so simple. Let go. Enjoy what was right in front of her.
“I can’t do that with Charlie.” Laura sighed and stood. “We have the rest of our lives to plan for, and I don’t want to promise him things I can’t give him.”
“Who says you can’t give him what he wants?”
“I can’t just quit and let him protect me. I have to fight my own battles. Live my own life.”
“You’re afraid of becoming like your mother?”
Yes.
“It’s not that. We’re just too different. We don’t make sense.”
“Some of the best things in life don’t make sense.”
“Like affairs with one’s ex-husband?” Laura wanted to get out of the room. The tiny room was getting stuffy with two people and major life decisions all crammed in there together.
“That’s not what I meant.” Lola put her hand on Laura’s shoulder, making it known that she would stay right there until she’d dispensed all the grandmotherly wisdom that she could tolerate. “He’s not asking you to give anything up. The way he looks at you is rare, and precious. The only thing you’ll be giving up if you end things with him is that. And I want you to have that.”
“I can’t dance for much longer.” She didn’t know why she’d confessed now. Or to her semi-estranged grandmother. But those words had been floating around in her brain, her muscles, and on her heart for so long that they were going to leak out sooner or later. “I have to know what I’m going to do next before I commit to anything. And Charlie wants all of me. Right now. It’s scary.”
Lola pressed one her of fingers against Laura’s breast bone. “All that he wants is in here. You’ll figure the rest out.”
“But didn’t you hear me?” The organ in her chest ached and shifted when Charlie was near her, when he took care of her like she meant something more to him. It was an unfamiliar feeling and she wanted to bottle it up and push it away all at the same time. “I’m afraid.”
“That’s the reason to do it, mi amor.” She turned and open the bathroom door. “Love is the only reason to do anything in this life.”
Chapter 13
Laura went outside and played the part of a blushing bride after that. She joked with her brothers and cousins and drank one too many glasses of champagne. She looked at her husband, and saw what her grandmother had described. And it didn’t make her cringe back into herself. She allowed the feelings that flowed from Charlie—as easy as summer afternoon rain—inside her. It was almost like an experiment, and it was a successful one until they were alone in the car.
He had his hand on her leg, squeezing gently through her dress. And it was like they were any other couple headed to their shared home after a family party. He hadn’t asked her if she was going to sleep over; it was assumed. She had a freaking toothbrush at his house. And a drawer.
Her husband’s contentment was palpable, and she knew it didn’t have anything to do with the slew of gifts they’d received from her family. Although she would have liked to imagine that his happiness came from the naughtier gifts that Alana, Carla, and Maya had given her in private—the ones that made her blush to think about—she knew it wasn’t that either. He fit in drinking scotch and smoking cigars with her Uncle Hector. He had lugged the rapidly growing toddler Layla around, and he even seemed to understand her mumbled toddler-speak.
A pang in her heart at the
thought of Charlie with a baby made her push his hand off of her leg. She didn’t want all of this to become so normal, so much a part of her that it would hurt when it ended. She struggled to separate this into pieces in her mind.
“What’s wrong?” He glanced over at her as he moved through traffic.
“Nothing.”
He laughed, and she knew he wasn’t buying it. “You know, up until just then, I didn’t really feel married.”
She scowled at him. “Why not?”
“I just remember Jonah telling me a story about how the word ‘nothing’ had about a thousand meanings that he didn’t realize until he hooked up with Carla.”
“Hmm.” She looked out the window of the car, and tried to lose herself in the bright lights and passing cars. Willed Charlie into companionable silence.
“And ‘nothing’ doesn’t mean ‘nothing,’ right now.” He sighed and tapped the steering wheel with one finger, after they stopped behind a line of cars waiting to exit the freeway. “Is it your parents?”
“No. It’s nothing.” Nothing that she wanted to talk about. She needed to get her own head straight before word-vomiting all over Charlie. He acted like it was so easy, that they could just be married and date and fit into each other’s lives. She felt like she was the only person in this car actually thinking about the consequences of what they were doing, the only one thinking about the future.
“See, I don’t believe you, gorgeous.” He put his hand on her thigh again, and she didn’t bother to move it this time. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” That was the truth. He was the perfect husband, and that was the problem. “You did everything right.”
“Then, why aren’t you talking to me?”
“I’m just thinking, okay?”
“Don’t you know?” He slid his hand up her thigh. “I want to know what you’re thinking about. I want to know everything that goes on in your head. I want to know what’s hurting you so that I can fix it. It’s sort of become an obsession.”
If she were a different kind of woman, his words would have wrapped themselves around her heart so tightly that she wouldn’t have been able to live without him repeating them. But she wasn’t capable of the kind of openness that he demanded from her. The sooner he saw that, the sooner he could let her go. And it was best for him to let her go.
“I can’t give you that.”
“Then what can you give me?”
“Sex.” Even though, every time they had sex, she came closer and closer to cracking her heart open to him. If she were being honest with herself, she already had.
He moved his hand higher, until his little finger was nestled against the apex of her thighs. “Is that all you’re willing to give me?”
His voice held a chord of hurt that she hated. She wanted to take it back and tell him that he could have whatever he wanted from her.
Before she could answer, he said, “I’m not going to turn it down, but guess what?”
She looked over at him, and his face was all in shadows and light. For the millionth time, she was struck by how gorgeous he was. He was Narcissus, of a sort that hadn’t drowned. Instead of remaining an adolescent asshole and becoming irredeemable because of that stupid tape, he’d picked himself up. He was even more beautiful now that he had been just after college. There was something there that hadn’t been there before. A determination that set his jaw in stark relief.
“What?”
He pulled the car into his driveway and shifted into park before turning to her. His gaze was intense, and she was tempted to flee the car. But she knew he would follow her. She’d been so worried about him burrowing inside her and making her fall in love with him. So afraid of losing herself in him. But he already had her pinned.
“I’m not going to stop trying to make you see that this works.” He grabbed her knee, and put his hand under her dress. Her skin burned from the searing truth of his words paired with his savagely tender caress. “And if I have to make you see that through sex, all the better.” He smiled, and the street light against his face made it look almost sinister. “That’s the best weapon I have.”
* * * *
Just sex his ass.
He knew when she’d disappeared for a half hour that there was trouble brewing. He could smell it like a thunderstorm rolling in off the Gulf. She didn’t know that he knew that secret, that her emotions weren’t as locked away from him as she thought. And he wasn’t going to tell her that he knew.
She’d just given him an open invitation to show her how she felt about him. To give a mind-blowing demonstration of how magical they were together. He wasn’t going to apologize for standing up for her with her parents. And he wasn’t going to promise not to do it again. That wasn’t a promise he could keep, and it contradicted his marriage vows.
Every day, those vows mattered more and more to him. They might be a temporary inconvenience for her, but he was going to stop questioning how right it felt to belong to Laura. He was going to do everything he could to make her stay. The only way he would let her leave was if he was sure that was the only way he could make her happy. Watching her walk away would gut him, but what she wanted was more important to him.
He got out of the car, and made it to the other side in time to help her out. She was unsteady on her feet even though she’d had maybe three glasses of champagne in three hours, and that filled him with a satisfaction that bordered on carnal. The fact that he could make this prima ballerina falter gave him a shot of manly pride.
That pride countered the feeling of vulnerability that chased him around when he was dealing with her emotions. Although he could predict when her mood was going off track, he couldn’t seem to do anything to stop it. He couldn’t lie back and let things happen to her. And he sure as shit wouldn’t stand by and allow her parents to hurt her. He had to make her see they were a family now. And he wouldn’t treat her like her father treated her mother.
He respected her as much as he wanted her.
She regained her grace and walked up the front path to his door provocatively. Although she had to be quite slim for her job, her curves were undeniable. The long lines of her body sang to him. It was no wonder to him that entire theaters of people teared up when she danced. With the flutter of her hand, she could make people hold their breath.
She was a conductor of a sort, but of emotions. She had him on a string, but she wouldn’t admit that he meant anything to her—that what was happening between them was unique and important.
When they’d met at the wedding, her body had driven him crazy. Her wild eyes and supple lips, the strength in her movements when she’d pushed him into the sand and kissed him for the first time. He’d been helpless to stop her when she didn’t know what she was doing.
Now? When she was deliberately twitching her hips in a way that made her skirt ghost across her bare thighs? He was a goner.
But now that he’d learned her body and knew exactly how to make her come apart in his arms over and over, for hours at will, he had a way to fight against it.
Instead of opening the door when he reached her, he pressed her against the wooden planks and took her mouth. She tasted like champagne and spice, and she opened to him without hesitation. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and there they danced. It was a fight, a play fight, but a battle nonetheless. But when he was touching her, and she was giving back to him this way, it didn’t matter who had the upper hand. They were equals in this.
He’d kept his keys in his hand and got the door open without moving his mouth away from hers. He caught her by the waist and carried her into the foyer, not setting her down until they reached his bedroom.
Though he had a lot to say to her that didn’t have anything to do with sex, he stuck with the only thing she was willing to offer him. “Panties off, gorgeous.”
When she went for the stra
ps of her dress, he knocked her hands away before kneeling down and pulling her underwear off, leaving her dressed. “You don’t want me to be naked?”
“I always want you naked, but I’ve been thinking about this dress all night.” It was made of some ultra-soft fabric that was almost the same smoothness as her skin. When she’d walked into his living room wearing it earlier, he hadn’t been able to get the thought of sticking his head under it and eating her until she cried for him to stop out of his head. Everything she wore turned him into a sick bastard, and he wasn’t even sorry. He couldn’t even fake it with her.
“You haven’t been thinking about it on your bedroom floor?” Her voice had this provocative thing that made him growl every time she did it. Her voice and her body had the same effect on him—drugging.
“I want to feel like I’m drowning in this dress while I lick this pretty cunt.” He caught the back of her thighs when she wavered. In the past few weeks, he’d learned that she liked it when he used ultra-dirty words. It made her go soft and even wetter. He’d use the c-word every other word if it made her happy.
“Your funeral.” Her soft laugh stopped when he crawled underneath her skirt. He kept his grip on the backs of her thighs as he kissed up her legs from the ankles. He’d never had fantasies about licking the shoes of a woman in high heels, but he could understand it when he was at her feet. He hoped those shoes were reasonably comfortable. Because after he licked her until she came, he wanted those pointy stilettoes digging into his ass as he rode her.
She must have been holding onto her thighs while he was making his way up her legs to her pussy because he encountered resistance getting there—he was stuck under her dress. And he hadn’t meant that drowning thing literally. He nudged her until her fingers fought for purchase on the top of his head through the fabric. The desperation of her touch gratified him and sent more blood to his dick as the scent of her made saliva gather in his mouth.
Before Daylight Page 13