Rose

by Sydney Landon

I reach my car uninterrupted and sit there for a moment. I’m normally in a hurry to see Rose, but tonight, I’m bogged down by guilt. Lucian’s right; we’re doing almost the same thing we did to Lia. It seems as if finding long-lost parents has become our specialty. No matter how much I try to justify it, it still feels wrong. I decide then and there that no matter what comes of our meeting with Daisy tomorrow, I’ll come clean with the woman I love. I’m concerned about what it’ll do to her mental state, but she is so much stronger now. This is too important to keep from her. Her world is possibly about to irrevocably change.

  Am I doing the right thing? Could this be the last night with the woman who has become my world? This may be costly, but it is the right thing. The right thing for Rose.

  It’s with a heavy heart that I start my car and make my way slowly to enjoy what could very well be the last night with the woman who has become my whole world. At that moment, I wonder if doing what I know is the right thing, could very well be the costliest decision I’ve ever made.

  * * *

  I’m bouncing on my toes in excitement when Max walks in the door. He gives me a questioning look before crossing the room and encircling me in his arms. “Hey, baby. How are you?”

  I stretch until I reach his lips and press a lingering kiss there. He groans, then complains as I pull back too soon. “You’re not going to believe what happened today,” I rush out. “I was completely floored myself and know you will be as well.”

  He picks me up into his arms effortlessly and walks through to the living room, before sitting with me on the sofa. It’s become a bit of a nightly ritual for me to rest in his lap while we talk about our day, so I don’t question the gesture. Although, he seems more … reticent. He was out with Lucian and normally time with Lucian is not a chore. Maybe something is happening at work with a merger. He nuzzles against my neck for a moment then asks huskily, “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

  “My mom called me today,” I blurt out. “She asked me to go to lunch with her. Of course, I said no immediately, but then she actually begged. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard the woman say please in a manner that wasn’t sarcastic. So I agreed because I was too surprised not to.”

  Max gives me what looks like a strained smile. “How did it go when you saw her? You seem pleased, so I’m guessing well?”

  I wiggle until I’m more comfortable and grin as a groan escapes his lips. “It was a bit strained at first. You have to understand that we’ve never really been like what I would assume a traditional mother/daughter relationship would be. She asked how I’d been doing and then there were some uncomfortable silences. Finally, I asked her why she wanted to see me since she didn’t appear to have anything to say. She shocked me by tearing up. She said she was sorry for not being a better mother, and she’s missed me since I left home. She told me that she wanted us to spend more time together and really get to know each other. She said that my dad had also missed me but wasn’t good at expressing his feelings in the right way. I said, ‘No shit,’ and she laughed. Can you believe it? I know that seems small, but she’s never gotten my particular brand of humor. After that, I don’t know. Things just seemed almost normal. We chatted as friends. Well … friends who haven’t seen each other in ten years, but she tried.”

  “Wow,” Max says as he twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “That was rather out-of-the-blue, right? Maybe they’re concerned that you’ve cut them out of your life. Did she pressure you to come back home?”

  I wrinkle my nose as I think back over my earlier conversation with my mother. “No, other than saying they missed me, that was it. I’ve never been out from under their thumb before, so this is certainly new for them and for me. Maybe it’s gotten their attention.”

  Max purses his lips before shrugging. “It does sound that way. What do you plan to do about it?”

  I’m a little surprised that he doesn’t seem more enthusiastic about the lunch with my mother. In fact, he looks rather apprehensive. He’s probably worried about me getting hurt again. I turn until I’m straddling him and take his face in my hands. His beautiful eyes stare back into mine and my heart stutters. “I love you,” I whisper quietly before kissing him. He lets me set the pace for a moment before taking control. Our breaths mingle as our tongues meld together. A simple kiss from him is enough to send my pulse into orbit and thoroughly drench my panties. He rocks me against the growing bulge in his pants, and we’re both quickly on the edge.

  “I want you—now,” he growls, and I can only nod my agreement. He stands and sets me on my feet and I think he’s going to lead me to the bedroom. But, instead, he leaves for a moment, then returns with a foil packet in his hand. He motions toward the arm of the sofa, and I almost swoon in delight. He gives me no time to verbalize my approval as he hastily drops his trousers. He grips my skirt in one hand and rips my panties away with the other. “Bend over,” he snaps, and I hurry to do his bidding. I felt vulnerable and exposed in this position, and more turned on than ever. He comes up behind me and lines his cock up with my sex. There is no time to brace myself as he bottoms out inside me, pushing me forward. He grips my waist to bring me right back and impales me again and again. He wraps a hand in my hair and angles my neck back to nip the sensitive skin there. “I fucking love you so much,” he rumbles.

  “I … sweet shit,” I yell, unable to stop myself. I have no idea why that’s become one of my favorite phrases during sex, but I almost always say it when I’m close to coming, and tonight is no exception. “Max, I’m almost there. Harder, baby, harder!”

  He’s pounding me now, moving me off my feet with every thrust. “Fuck, I love this greedy pussy. It sucks me dry, then begs for me,” he roars. I begin to spasm. His dirty talk does it to me every time. I’d have never thought that the word “pussy” could be so erotic, but it never fails to make my clit twinge. He’s lying fully on my back now, still embedded deep inside me as he finds his own release. He continues to rock his hips forward, taking us both down from the peak at a more leisurely pace. I feel his tongue moving against my neck as he licks what are probably beads of sweat. I should be grossed out, but I’m the exact opposite. He lets me know with and without words that he loves every part of me, even the stuff I consider not so pleasant. “Love you, baby,” he whispers in my ear before pulling out of me. My body cries at the loss of him. He’s so much a part of me now. I curse the months we spent stubbornly avoiding each other. But I’ve come to accept that it wasn’t our time then. I was still reeling over my boyfriend’s infidelity, and I don’t know if Max would have taken a chance on us had I not been thrust into his house with no warning.

  He holds on to my arm as I turn to face him on shaky legs. “I love you, too,” I murmur dazedly before allowing him to lead me gently to the shower. We take turns lazily washing each other and then throw on comfortable clothing. We fix a casual meal of omelets for dinner. One day, I’ll actually make us that pasta I’ve been attempting for weeks.

  Max works for a while after dinner while I clean up the kitchen. He comes to find me as I’m flipping channels on the television and coaxes me to bed. We curl up together like missing halves of a puzzle, and I’m dozing against his chest moments later. As I drift off, I’m blessedly content. I’m with the man I love, and my mother actually wants to be a part of my life. I feel almost invincible at that moment, but happiness in my experience is both fleeting and short-lived. Even as I try to enjoy the moment, I can’t help but brace for the aftermath when something takes it away from me. Pleasure and pain go hand in hand and have for so very long. Jake was pleasure until that too became pain. Will I ever truly be able to have one without the other?

  17

  Max

  Lucian has an appointment the next morning, so we arrange to meet at Myers Dental a few minutes before eleven. When I arrive, I see his Mercedes idling at the curb and his driver, Sam, behind the wheel. I tease Lucian about his chauffeur sometimes, but truthfully, for a man of his wealth, he lives
a surprisingly low-key lifestyle. He has a nice home and vehicles, but his biggest splurge is probably Sam. And even that makes sense because it allows him to work during his commute instead of what he sees as wasting time driving. Plus, Sam is like a second father to him, and I think he enjoys those moments with him every day. Of course, now that he’s married, he sends Sam back for Lia most mornings, even though she argues about it.

  When Sam spots me, he gets out of the car and opens Lucian’s door. My friend and boss step out onto the sidewalk, and we both spend a few moments joking around with Sam before he leaves. Leaving Rose this morning had been bittersweet. Part of me hadn’t wanted go, knowing I could very well be unveiling an alternate history in this meeting today. I had made love to her fiercely last night, which, despite feeling all versions of wrong, had been fucking incredible. She leaves me breathless. Awed.

  We’re a few steps away from the door when it swings open, and I halt abruptly. Nothing quite prepared me for this. Shit. Unable to stop in time, Lucian plows into my back and curses under his breath. “Sorry,” I mumble as I continue to stare at the woman who looks so much like Rose.

  Lucian moves out from behind me, and I know that he sees it too when he hisses, “Holy shit.”

  Daisy Wheeten Myers smiles ruefully at both of us. “I guess I’ve answered one of your questions without even opening my mouth.” She steps back and motions us in, and I approach her on wooden legs. She shuts the door after us and points at a couple of sofas in what I assume is the waiting room. “This seems a little more informal than my office,” she explains after we’re all seated. She inclines her head toward Luc and says, “You’re Lucian Quinn. I did some research after speaking to your investigator.” Then she turns to me. “And you’re his lawyer, Max Decker.” Both Lucian and I lean forward to shake her hand before settling back against the sofa cushions. “Now that we’ve gotten the introductions out of the way, I’d like to know why you gentlemen are digging into my past.”

  Lucian gives me a look as if asking if I’d like to answer her question. “I’m involved with Rose Madden. We live together.” Shit, maybe I should have left out the whole living in sin thing to her mother. “She doesn’t have a particularly good relationship with her parents and has had some issues because of it.”

  Daisy looks pained as I pause in my explanation. She clears her throat and asks, “Be that as it may, why would you have any inkling that I exist? I’m certain that the Maddens have never said a word about me.”

  Lucian interjects. “Actually, I became suspicious when Rose told me about a recurrent dream she’s had since childhood. In it, a woman screams that she doesn’t belong with them and yells the name Poppy. I thought that it might possibly be a memory she’s been suppressing instead, which is how Max and I got to this point.”

  I glance over and am surprised to find tears rolling down Daisy’s cheeks. “I can’t believe she remembers that. She was so young.” Her head drops into her hands as she visibly fights for control.

  Lucian clasps his hands together between his knees and asks quietly, “Can we start at the beginning? I promise you that we’re only here for Rose. Other than her, we have no association with the Maddens. We only want to help the woman who is your daughter.”

  Daisy gets to her feet and paces the length of the room for a few moments. The air is heavy with tension as we wait to see if she’ll trust us. Finally, she begins. “My parents had originally been hired by Hoyt Madden’s father. Then when Hoyt married Celia, they went to work for them since the father wasn’t entertaining as much anymore and was overstaffed. I was five years old at the time. When I started school the next year, I would get off the bus and stay until my parents left work for the day.” She stares off into space before continuing in a dreamy voice. “I thought it was the grandest place. We lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment in a run-down area, so I felt like a princess for those few hours every day. On the rare occasion when I saw Hoyt or Celia, it was as if I were invisible. They completely ignored my presence, which was confusing to me at the time. I realized a few years later that they thought I was beneath them.”

  “That pretty much fits with the Maddens we know,” Lucian adds dryly. Daisy pauses for a moment to get a cup of water from a nearby fountain.

  “That’s not surprising,” Daisy agrees. “Those types of people rarely change. Anyway, things were mostly the same throughout my childhood. During the summer months, I spent the entire day there and the year I turned fourteen I met Camden Marshall. His family was visiting the Maddens.” Daisy’s eyes seem far away as she says, “The first time I saw him, he took me by surprise by actually speaking to me. He introduced himself then asked for my name. I was so awestruck that he had to prompt me several more times until I managed to answer his question. After that first meeting, he sought me out every day. He was a couple of years older than me, but he was wise beyond his years. He’d traveled the world with his wealthy parents, and I loved hearing his stories. Plus, every day, he’d bring me a handful of daisies from what I feared was the neighbor’s yard. On the night before he was to leave, though, he brought me the most breathtaking bouquet of Poppies.” Daisy shrugs her shoulders and adds, “I guess you can guess what happened before he left.”

  “Did you ever see him again?” I ask gently, deeply moved by her story.

  Instead of answering, she walks away, and I see a light go on down the hallway. I look uncertainly at Lucian, wondering what’s going on when I see her coming back with a stack of envelopes in her hand. She drops the bundle onto the coffee table a few inches from our knees. “To answer your question, no, I never heard from Camden—or so I thought. When my father passed away almost two years ago, I cleaned out my parents’ house because my mother moved in with her sister after the funeral. I found those letters addressed to me from Camden buried at the top of their closet.”

  “There’s quite a few of them,” Lucian remarks, looking as if he’d like to read one as much as I would.

  “There are eighty-seven,” Daisy says sadly. “He wrote me that many letters and I never knew until recently. He never knew I was pregnant and that our daughter had been taken from me. I’ve had those letters for almost two years and still haven’t had the nerve to read them. I don’t feel worthy.”

  The urge to stand and take Rose’s mother in my arms is strong. She’s just barely keeping it together now. I feel like an insensitive ass when I ask, “How did Rose end up with the Maddens?” We’ve come this far, and I have a feeling that just maybe Daisy needs to tell someone.

  She winces, then admits, “My father was a gambler and a drunk. My mother covered for him on the job and did his work too if needed. He borrowed money from one of those shady loan places, then lost it all. Of course, they had no way to pay it back.”

  “So your father borrowed money from the Maddens?” Lucian asks the question I’d already been thinking.

  Daisy surprises us both by shaking her head. “Oh no, that would have been too easy. Plus, he always liked to pretend he was someone he wasn’t. Begging for a handout from Hoyt would have been too embarrassing. So instead, he stole some paintings and antiques from the attic that they never ventured into. Unfortunately for all of us, Hoyt was a paranoid man who had hidden cameras throughout the house and the theft was caught almost immediately.”

  “Fuck,” I hiss out, then apologize for my language.

  Daisy waves me off, not seeming offended by my language. “Add an ‘ed’ to that, Mr. Decker, and that’s exactly what we were. Hoyt and Celia called us into the library that afternoon and showed us the video. I was six months pregnant at the time, and it had become impossible to hide the fact. Hoyt didn’t bother beating around the bush. He said we’d all be going to jail. The items my father had taken were worth a lot of money, so it wasn’t just a charge of misdemeanor he’d be facing. And Hoyt said my mother and I would be arrested as accessories. He calmly laid the whole scenario out. I was in shock and my parents panicked. My mother cried and my father begged.
I knew that there was more. Hoyt would have had the police waiting for us otherwise. He seemed puzzled by my lack of reaction—then angry. Finally, he dropped the bomb. He and Celia would be willing to let the whole thing go as a simple misunderstanding and do us a favor in the process by raising my child. After all, he had pointed out, it was obvious that none of us were fit to do it.”

  I drop back against the sofa heavily, sick to my stomach at the story she is telling. Beside me, Lucian looks as pissed and disgusted as I feel. “You were forced to give them your baby,” I state because, at this point, it’s no longer a question.

  She takes a tissue from a nearby table and attempts to halt the tears that are again tracking down her face. “I tried to fight them on it, but what could I do? I was sixteen with nowhere to go and no money to support myself, much less a baby. Plus, if what Hoyt said was true, we’d be separated anyway when I went to prison. So I was forced to live there for the rest of my pregnancy because they didn’t trust me. They found someone discreet to homeschool me so I had no reason to leave. A few hours after I gave birth, my baby was taken from me and I was dropped at home. My parents were given enough money to keep their mouths shut. Not that they would have dared to do anything else. They were terrified of the repercussions. I fell into a depression after that and was little more than a zombie. A few years later, I got my GED and a job at a local restaurant waiting tables. When I’d saved enough to buy a car, I began driving by the Madden’s every day on the way home, hoping to see some sign of Poppy. Then one day when she would have been five, I saw her. She was standing against the fence with a red ball in her hands. Before I even knew what I was doing, I’d parked on the side of the road and had run over to her. She’d looked at me curiously through the bars but hadn’t appeared afraid. I talked to her for a few moments; I don’t even remember what I said. Then Hoyt came thundering across the lawn. He grabbed her up into his arms and started threatening me.”