Searching for Beautiful

by Jennifer Probst

  She walked away and opened the door. His mouth dropped open. She was throwing him out? She didn't want to see him anymore? The floor tilted up and a fierce roaring beat in his ears like a flurry of birds' wings, making everything fuzzy and disorienting. He couldn't lose her.

  He'd die without her.

  "Go home, Wolfe. Please don't try to contact me. I need the time to heal and learn to live without you."

  "Don't do this--" His voice broke, so he tried again. "Please."

  "This isn't a punishment. It's just what I have to do."

  He didn't know how long he stood there. She waited him out, refusing to meet his gaze, until he managed to walk across the floor and stop beside her. "Gen."

  She said nothing.

  Wolfe left.

  When the door shut behind him, he realized maybe there was something even worse than what had happened in his past.

  "HONEY, WHAT'S WRONG? YOUR mother and I are worried."

  Gen forced a smile at her parents. She dragged a fork through her pasta, but her appetite had been sorely lacking since Wolfe left a few nights ago. A bone-deep sense of loss haunted her, and she struggled to get to the other side. Funny, she'd felt nothing like this when she left David. As if half of her heart had been cut out and given to someone who didn't want it.

  She'd come so close to breaking and taking whatever he wanted to give her. But Gen knew it would destroy her slowly. Much better to rip off the Band-Aid and suffer intense but shorter pain. At least, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

  "Just working some stuff out."

  "You're happy being back at the hospital though, right?" her father asked.

  "Yes." Returning to her medical career was the first step. Now she focused on what she wanted but refused to put herself back in an unhealthy place where work ruled every second and thought. She could be successful but still have a life. Without David, she relished restoring her own power, making decisions and choices on her own. She'd finally come full circle.

  "It's Wolfe, isn't it?"

  She stared at her mother. Maria clasped her hands on the table, meeting her gaze directly. Her father gasped. "That boy is only a friend. She just got over David! It has nothing to do with Wolfe."

  "Yes, it does."

  Her admission cut through her father's outburst like a bullet. Maria nodded slowly. "I suspected. The way you kept sneaking glances at one another. The joy on your faces." She smiled. "I remember when your father and I fell hard for each other it was the same way. Hard to keep that type of love hidden from the world."

  "Love? Have I stepped into the twilight zone?" her father said. "When did you and Wolfe become more than friends? Is he the reason you broke off with David? Did he hurt you in some way? I'll kill him--I swear, I'll go find him right now."

  "Jim, calm down."

  Gen sighed. Her father was stable and a rock when it came to interventions, health issues, and financial disasters. But when one of his children got their heart broken, he turned into a raging lunatic. "Dad, listen to me for a second. Wolfe had nothing to do with David and me. David was too controlling, and we weren't good for each other. But I realized I had deeper feelings for Wolfe as we spent more time together. I fell in love with him."

  Jim groaned and jumped from the chair. "I knew this would happen. He's not good for you. What did he do?"

  "Do you need one of your heart pills, dear?" Maria asked.

  "No, I'll be fine if my daughter just answers my question."

  "Dad, please calm down. I know he didn't mean to hurt me. I wanted more than friendship, and he couldn't handle it. He's had some issues in his past, and he doesn't believe he's worthy. He doesn't want to take a chance on me."

  Her father lapsed into silence. For a while, he studied her face, and then finally ducked his head. Maria took her hand, her soft brown eyes gleaming with understanding. "I'm so sorry. I know you're in pain right now. Do you think he'll come around with some time?"

  Damn tears again. It was like permanent PMS. She blinked rapidly. "No. I know he loves me, but he's stuck on the idea he'll hurt me in the future. I can't make him try."

  "No, you can't." Maria came over and tucked her into her arms. Pressing kisses to her head, she rocked her back and forth like she was little. "You'll be okay. Not for a while; it will hurt deeply. But you did the right thing by trying."

  "Maybe it's for the best," her father said gruffly. "Maybe he would've hurt you."

  Genevieve sniffed. "There are never guarantees, Dad. All I wanted was him to be brave enough to take the leap with me. What hurts the most is he doesn't see how special he is. How gentle, loving, and protective. He makes me . . . better."

  Maria let her cry, and when she finally lifted her head, she felt calmer.

  Her father was gone.

  twenty-nine

  WOLFE COMPLETED THE third set of pull-ups and dropped.

  Motley Crue blared loud and badassed behind him. He guzzled water, donned the boxing gloves, and set himself up for another round of punishing, brutal punches.

  He'd do anything to stop the pain.

  He was into the first round for a good five minutes before the music shut off. Catching his breath, he wiped his face with a towel and faced Sawyer. "Come to get a good thrashing?" he asked with a grin.

  Sawyer didn't smile back. Instead, he got that worried, pinched look on his face. Uh-oh. Wolfe remembered that expression when he was nineteen, twenty, and yeah, maybe even twenty-one. He wanted to have a talk.

  "Maybe later. Got a minute?"

  He wasn't up for it now. Having a heart-to-heart with the one man who understood him might let loose some shit he wanted locked up for good. "Can I catch you later?"

  Sawyer sighed and sat down on the bench. "Won't take long. How come you came back to Italy?"

  Wolfe stiffened, avoiding his gaze. "Told you. I'd planned on staying a few weeks, but needed to fly Gen home. I just decided to come right back. Hell man, if I'm messing up your mojo I'll get the hell out. All you had to do was say so."

  "Don't."

  The quiet word made him pause. He was being a dick and he knew it. "Sorry. I'm dealing with some shit. Trying to get my head together."

  "Now that I understand. Look, I'm glad you're here. Hell, I'm stoked and want you to stay as long as possible. But you've been different, and I think it has to do with Gen. I don't want to get in your business, but you can talk to me. I've been there."

  Wolfe dragged in a breath and faced his stepfather. "I know. I just need some time. I'll be okay."

  Sawyer gave a curt nod, but his face was plainly disbelieving. "I can respect that. I'm here if you need me. I will tell you this, though. When Julietta and I first got together, I wanted it to be about sex. Only sex."

  Wolfe made a face. "TMI, dude."

  "Sorry. Trying to make a point. It turned into more, but I fought it because I didn't think I was good enough. Believed I was damaged, from the stuff I did in the past. She convinced me otherwise, but it took time. You see, Wolfe, when a woman loves you, she doesn't see the past or the mistakes or the crap. She just sees the future."

  Wolfe remained quiet. Sawyer stood and squeezed his shoulder. "That's all I got. But you better shower soon because you need to go on an appointment."

  "With who?"

  Sawyer turned back to look at him. "Mama Conte expects you for dinner at six."

  "You coming?"

  His stepfather shot him a look. "Not this time. She requested only you. Good luck."

  He disappeared, leaving him with his thoughts and regret and sweat.

  "Ah, fuck."

  WOLFE BEGAN TO RELAX.

  The dinner was perfect. They'd feasted on only four courses instead of six, and having Mama Conte on a one-to-one basis was enjoyable. He'd learned stories about Julietta growing up, the launch of her bakery, and got a glimpse of the powerful man Mama Conte had loved, married, and lost. She never mentioned anything personal, and Wolfe caught no judgment or worry in her gaze. He finishe
d grinding the coffee beans, and prepared them two cups of espresso to go with the buttery amaretti she'd just baked.

  "Did you ever think you'd fail when you first started La Dolce Famiglia?" he asked, settling back into the pine chair.

  Mama Conte smiled and sat next to him. "Of course. But I had a partner at my side, and knew if I failed, at least I tried. There is no shame in dreams or hard work or failure. Only not trying."

  He nibbled on a cookie. "Like Sawyer's dreams for Purity."

  "Si. And the way Michael began his own dream with La Dolce Maggie. He wanted to be a race car driver when he was younger."

  "No way." He couldn't imagine Michael as a young, brash race car driver. The tall, elegant Italian man ruled with a booming voice and incredible charm, and was one of the sharpest businessmen in the country. "I can't picture it."

  "Ah, it was hard to give that part of himself up. When my husband passed, Michael took it upon himself to run the business and never looked back. I am sure he had regrets, but his path has led him to Maggie and a new life. We never realize at the moment what our futures hold. Sometimes we must go on a leap of faith."

  He sifted through her words, his brain clutching the theory like a Bible to the heart. How wonderful to think each moment, good and bad, has purpose. He never really thought of his life like that before. And after losing Genevieve, there was a gaping hole he couldn't fill, a haunting emptiness that no food or water could ever satisfy.

  "Do you remember what I told you that Sunday years ago? When you first visited me?"

  Wolfe blinked. The afternoon of their initial meeting was carved in his brain as one of the turning points in his life. He'd dined with Sawyer and Julietta, and she'd asked to speak with him in private for a few moments after dessert. "Yes, of course. You said I was always welcome in your home, that I was part of your family. You said I had worth, and one day I'd see it."

  She smiled faintly. "Good. Do you remember the last thing I said?"

  He played back the conversation in his memory. "You said I was searching for something, and that one day I'd find it. But I'd need to be brave enough to think I deserved it."

  "Yes, my sweet boy. I've watched you grow up into a man I'm proud of. You've become a son to Julietta and Sawyer, and a grandson to me. You are the heart and soul of Purity, and you have a wisdom and gentleness that humbles me. The last time you visited, I knew you'd changed. I didn't know who it would be, but once I met Genevieve, everything made sense."

  He shifted in his chair while his defenses rose. "Gen and I are friends." The words stuck in his throat and the lie burned his tongue.

  She threw her head back and cackled. "Started as friends, yes. But you are soul mates. Meant to balance each other."

  "Mama Conte, I don't want to talk about this right now. It's not going to work between us. It's for the best."

  She kept talking as if he wasn't even there. "If only there was a way I could make you marry each other. But alas, it won't work this time."

  "What?"

  "Nothing. Have you figured out what you're searching for?"

  The change of topic was hurting his head. "Nothing. I have everything I want." Another lie.

  "Wolfe Wells. This is important. Don't be flip--tell me the truth."

  The demand came like a whiplash. He stared at the elderly woman gazing at him with eyes of steel, and the answer surged from within, poised on his lips, and spilled from his very soul. "Beautiful. I'm searching for something beautiful out there." The emotions snuck from under the wall, took root, and began to bloom. He was used to chopping off the flowers with the weeds, but this time, he stopped himself.

  Her smile was pure joy and comfort and goodness. She reached out, wrapped strong fingers around his wrists, and lifted them up. "Yes. And you have finally found it, my sweet boy. It's love. Genevieve is your answer, but sometimes the hardest, bravest thing in the world is to let someone love you." She slowly slipped off the wrist guards, releasing his scarred skin to the light. "Allow yourself to be happy. This boy who tried to take his life, the one with all the hurt and loss, is part of you. But he does not have to take over. Not anymore. You must go to her and give her the truth. Do you understand?"

  Wolfe stared. Her voice echoed to a place inside his soul, back to the dirty bedroom where the men had used him and he'd tried to escape. But then another image took hold, one of Gen's face, open and laughing, her eyes full of love as she kissed him, held him, and showed him something that was possible.

  Something beautiful.

  An odd stinging hurt his eyes. "What if I fail?"

  She squeezed harder and stroked his cheek with tenderness. "It doesn't matter. When you try, you win."

  He began to shake. When he was little, and he desperately craved someone to hug him, tell him it was okay, soothe the tears away, there was no one. But right now, in Mama Conte's kitchen, he felt safe.

  He felt loved.

  She took him into her arms and held him tight.

  "I NEED A PLAN."

  Nate remained quiet as he set up his shot on the golf course. The air hung thick and heavy for the October afternoon, and a slight dampness still clung to the grass from the morning drizzle. It hadn't stopped either of them from their normal Wednesday morning golf game. Wolfe's swing was clean, with a perfect arc and trajectory. "Nice, dude."

  "Thanks. Good to know I haven't lost my edge. You canceled twice this past month. Losing interest in me? Or is jetting off to Italy on a whim more important than the game of champions?"

  He rolled his eyes and grabbed the club. "Hanging out with Benny the hairdresser a bit much? The drama is catching."

  "Mitch."

  "Metrosexual."

  "Ouch."

  Wolfe laughed, got prepped, and made his shot. His smirk when the ball landed close to the green made Nate shake his head. "Maybe a vacation in Italy is exactly what you need to help your game. Want a handicap?"

  "Asshole." Wolfe grinned and they began walking.

  "Back to your comment. What type of plan we talking about?"

  Wolfe figured it was time to push himself to be more open with everyone close in his life. Not easy, but time to try. "Let me give you the short version. Gen and I started sleeping together, fell in love, she asked for more, I freaked and said no, she left, I'm trying to get her back."

  "Why'd you freak?"

  "I got issues."

  Nate barked out a laugh. "No shit. Who doesn't? Okay, so she's pissed off and doesn't want to see you."

  "Correct."

  "Sounds like what happened with Kennedy and me."

  "Yeah, but a big declaration with a billboard on a golf course isn't gonna help me. I need epic."

  Nate wrinkled his nose. "The billboard was epic. I heard Kate got recliners from Slade."

  "That's lame."

  "Yeah, I told him that. How about a poem? You can name Purity after her?"

  Wolfe glowered. "Dude, these suck. I come to you with my heart open and this is what you give me?"

  "I'm a guy. I don't know what women want. Can you create a song and serenade outside her door?"

  "Forget it."

  They went back to the game, but Wolfe was no closer to figuring out how to confess his love, apologize, and beg her to take another shot on his sorry ass. Somehow he felt as if his silence hurt her the deepest. How could he blame her? He'd hurt the one person in the world he treasured.

  Ever since coming home from Italy, he'd begun to look at things differently. With less fear. He even started therapy again, wanting to do everything to keep working on himself. He pulled at his wristbands, the skin sweating underneath, and suddenly stopped.

  Gen was a straight shooter. No frills. Fierce and brave and honest.

  He would keep things simple. No billboards, poems, or Goodyear Blimp signs.

  Just the truth.

  "I got it."

  Nate nodded. "Good. Now, can we finish the game before you go off to claim your woman?"

  "Yes. Let's play.
"

  His heart lighter, Wolfe concentrated on golf, grateful for good friends.

  GEN LAUGHED AS LILY and Maria climbed over her, trying to get in more hugs than the other. She grabbed them and tickled them mercilessly, the shrill giggles reminding her that life had its beautiful moments even within the pain. She slumped onto the carpet, exhausted, while Alexa shook her head.

  "Let your aunt rest, girls. She's not as young as she used to be."

  Gen stuck her tongue out. "Speak for yourself, sis. I just did a double shift or I'd kick your butt in the Just Dance Wii marathon."

  Lily jumped up and down. "Yes! I want to be your partner, Aunt Gen!"

  "No, me!" Maria yelled.

  Alexa pulled a sad face. "What about your mother? I can dance!"

  The girls fell silent, looking guilty but not offering.

  Nick laughed, snagging Alexa around the waist. "My money's on you, babe. I just think the girls enjoy a more modern dance than Thriller."

  "What's wrong with Michael Jackson?" she demanded. "They need to know the classics."

  The doorbell rang. Gen rolled to her feet. "Stay, I'll get it. Probably Lance and Gina, they're running late. We must've locked the door by mistake."

  Maria shouted from the kitchen, "Can someone answer that?"

  "I'm going!" She raced down the hall and flung open the door. "Forgot your key? What did--" She broke off and stared.

  Wolfe.

  A low whimper escaped her lips. He looked gorgeous. Sexy as hell. The navy crewneck with the Purity logo stretched over his lean muscles and highlighted the piercing blue of his eyes. Worn jeans rode low on his hips. The familiar lines of his face looked a bit weary, but her gaze greedily drank in the full line of his mouth, the slant of his brows, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His jaw was clean, and the subtle scent of aftershave and soap drifted to her nostrils.

  She gripped the knob, trying desperately to hang on to her sanity. "W-what are you doing here?" she whispered.

  "I came to talk to you."

  "My family's here. I told you not to do this to me." She clamped down hard on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. To keep her from saying she still loved him, wanted him, dreamed about him. "You have to go."

  "Not until I say my piece."

  Footsteps echoed behind her. "Is that Lance and Gina--oh! Wolfe, darling, come in, come in."

  "Thanks."

  Her mother overran her denials and allowed the man who had broken her daughter's heart inside her home. He stood awkwardly in the foyer, shoulders a bit slumped, sheer nervousness flickering over his face. What did he want? What could he possibly have to say to her after weeks of silence?