Lush Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 8)

by Marysol James

  “Sarah,” Naomi said, dumbstruck. “Oh, wow. You look fantastic.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah whispered, fighting back the tears.

  Elise saw, though, and she swung into save-the-bride mode easily; it was, after all, an unspoken-yet-understood part of her job description as a wedding gown designer, and owner of a wedding boutique.

  “No crying!” she barked, and everyone jumped. “No redoing makeup! No do-overs!”

  Everyone laughed at that, even Sarah, and the messy, sodden crisis was mercifully averted. The hair stylist stepped forward to fix the tiara in place, and make a few quick adjustments to Sarah’s hair. The other women drifted away, to get some orange juice or Champagne, to check their own makeup, to fiddle with their own hair or bridesmaid dress. Annie stayed with her daughter, though, twisting her matron-of-honor bouquet in her hands.

  Sarah glanced over at her Mom. “You OK?”

  “Of course I am, darling. You’re getting married in two hours. I can’t think the last time I was this happy.”

  “Mmm-hmmm.” Sarah smiled at the stylist who nodded, then went over to Mirrie to fuss over her now. “Are you nervous about seeing him?”

  Annie fell silent, not even pretending to not know who Sarah was talking about.

  God, yes, of course she was nervous about seeing Sam… she was so nervous, she thought that she’d crawl out of her skin. But that didn’t mean that she was bad nervous.

  They’d been talking every night for the past two weeks, ever since Kathleen had left that note and walked out on her own flesh-and-blood without a damn backward glance. Their calls began after Sam had tucked Cindy into bed and she’d fallen asleep, and ended hours later – sometimes even in the wee hours of the morning.

  They’d talked about everything and nothing: the beautiful spring weather; Sarah and Jax’s wedding; their days at the diner and the hospital; the upcoming election; Cindy’s babysitter who helped out when Sam was at work; Sam’s brother who’d stepped up in the biggest way possible, and who had been nothing less than an emotional rock for both Sam and his daughter.

  Because they were struggling, both of them, struggling hard. Sam’s struggles were challenging, but mostly had to do with juggling it all as a single Dad while getting to know this small person, with all her feelings and thoughts and needs. He had help, naturally, but still… at the end of the day, it was Sam who Cindy looked to for comfort, reassurance, safety, stability. For hugs and bedtime stories and gentle pats on her head as she nodded off to sleep.

  For love.

  That little girl needed her father, and the fact that Sam had been a stranger until a month earlier suddenly meant less than nothing to her. He was the one that she was counting on, depending on, leaning on, and Sam was determined to answer the call each and every time she made it. She reached for him often, needing him to hold her close as she cried or asked the same questions over and over – Where is Mommy? When is Mommy coming back? Can we call Mommy? – or sat silent and shaken when the realization hit her, yet again and like a ton of bricks, that she’d been left behind by her own mother. Cindy was terribly confused, and Sam had her in therapy twice a week, which was one more responsibility that he had, because she refused to let anyone but Sam or Vic take her to a session.

  They were hurting, then, but they were game and fighting. They were a team now, Sam and Cindy, and Annie had listened as Sam had told her about both the triumphs and the mistakes. She’d encouraged him, she’d laughed with him, she’d cried with him, too.

  At the end of every single call, even that very first one when Sam had been almost hysterical after coming back from the Road Devils clubhouse from meeting Jinx, they told each other, I love you.

  But they hadn’t seen each other.

  Sarah and Jax’s wedding was the first time that they’d lay eyes on each other since that horrible semi-confrontation at Annie’s house. It was time, though, time to touch, hug, talk in person.

  To see if there was anything left to salvage and fight for.

  “I’m nervous about seeing him,” Annie said to her daughter now. “But I also really want to see him, and Cindy too. I want to see how they are.”

  “That poor little girl,” Sarah said, cold, hard anger in her voice. “Has Scars or any of his boys been able to track Kathleen down?”

  “Yep. It wasn’t difficult. I guess a bunch of ex one-percenter bikers have their methods, right?”

  “What?” Dumbfounded, Sarah stared at her mother. “So… Sam knows where she is?”

  “He does. Scars’ guy, I think his name is Ice, even gave Sam her address. She left a paper trail a mile wide, is what Sam was told. Ice thinks she’s an idiot, but he said that idiots are way easier to find.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Back in Miami.”

  “Are you kidding me? She went back to where she just left?”

  “Like Ice said: clearly an idiot.”

  “Jesus. Arrogant too, huh? Like she just truly does not give a damn. Practically daring Sam to come and find her.”

  “She doesn’t care.” Annie narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I have spent years trying to figure out how a parent walks out on a kid, ever since your father did it to you and Noah, and I never understood. I never will. But what I do know is that Kathleen covered all her bases legally. She has basically removed herself as a mother, and she’s free and clear to go and live her life however she sees fit. Cindy’s just lucky that her Dad is a good man, because a lesser man would have handled this completely differently.”

  “He’s not going after Kathleen, is he?” Sarah asked quietly. “He’s not making any legal moves, he’s not forcing the issue of a relationship with Cindy. He’s leaving her be.”

  “He’s focusing on his daughter,” Annie said. “And believe me, that’s a big enough job to be getting on with.”

  “And what can he really do, anyway?” Sarah said. “She took the money that was owed to her for almost three years of unpaid child support, and not one penny more. She signed the papers giving Sam full custody. To all intents and purposes, she’s a stranger who just happens to share Cindy’s DNA.”

  “Well, you know that’s exactly what Jinx said.”

  Sarah sighed. “And what’s your place in all of this?”

  “Me?” Annie smiled, a shining, lovely smile. “I’m your matron-of-honor, sweet girl, so my place is by your side as you marry an amazing, generous, loving man. And after that… well… I don’t know.” She handed Sarah her bridal bouquet of pale pink roses, then straightened the bodice on the wedding gown. “After that, I guess we’ll see.”

  **

  Annie stood at the bar, sipping a Mojito and watching Sarah dance with her husband. Her daughter was an incredible woman in so many ways, and as such, Annie had always thought that her beauty was the least-interesting thing about her, but there was no doubt about it: Sarah was gorgeous in this moment of pure, perfect happiness. Of loving and being loved in return.

  Annie sent up a quick prayer (weird, because she wasn’t one for praying, really) for Sarah and Jax’s happiness. She prayed that it would be long and rich and deep: that in their life together, they have more joy than sorrow, more laughter than tears, and more love than anything else.

  She glanced to her left idly, looked away, then looked back again.

  There he was.

  Their eyes met across the crowded dance floor, held. Annie felt her blood humming, her heart pounding. Oh, God, she loved him. She did. She always had, and no matter what was about to happen in this next few minutes, she always would.

  “Mom?”

  Annie was startled, spun back to the face the bar. Noah was standing there, so handsome in a suit. He’d been in Jax’s wedding party, of course, and he was proud that he’d been a part of making Brother Jax his real brother.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” she said, wipi
ng her spilled drink off her wrist with a napkin. “You having fun?”

  “Yes. I danced with Callie.”

  “I saw.”

  “She said that I should dance with you next.”

  “Did she?”

  “Yes.” Noah frowned a bit. “The wedding etiquette rules on that website said that sons dance with their mothers. I also need to dance with Sarah.”

  “Well, sure. If you want to.”

  “I do,” Noah said, sounding a bit surprised. “I’m a good dancer. Jax taught me, you know.”

  “I know,” Annie said, holding back her giggles. Jax had taught her son to dance and to kiss, and he’d also taught Noah by example how to treat a woman, how to live with a woman. Jax was the man that Noah looked to for many things, and Annie didn’t think that she’d ever stop being grateful for the fact that Jax had taken on that role with grace, strength, and compassion. “He’s a good teacher.”

  “Yes.” Noah stared at her. “I don’t want to dance with you now.”

  “No?”

  “No. I want you to talk to dance with Doctor Sam now.”

  Annie looked over at Sam again, as drawn to him as a moth to a flame. He warmed her from the inside out, he brightened her world just by existing… he was a man that she could build a whole life around. She wondered if he saw her in his life at all, if there was a space for her in it. Even just a small one.

  “Well, he’s dancing with Cindy now,” Annie said. “I don’t think I should get between them.”

  “You won’t be between them,” Noah said. “Cindy will be somewhere else.”

  “Oh?” Annie smiled inwardly at her son’s literal understanding of yet another common turn of phrase. “Where will she be?”

  Noah gestured with his chin. “With Doctor Mac and Mirrie.”

  “What?”

  “I already talked to Doctor Mac, and he said OK.”

  “You – what?” Annie was delighted and dumbfounded in equal measure at her son’s social engineering; even a year ago, she’d never have thought him capable of it, especially if it was for romantic ends and purposes. “You arranged for Sam and I to be alone?”

  “Yes. You do want to be alone with him?

  “Yes.”

  “OK, then.”

  They looked over at Mac and Mirrie crouching down at Cindy’s level, talking to her. Cindy knew Mac, of course, from when her babysitter dropped her off at the hospital, so she was giggling and chattering away with him. She tugged at Mac’s long blond hair, then held out her arms. Mac picked her up gallantly, spun her around, tickled under her chin. Cindy laughed, and Annie smiled at her happiness.

  God, if that little girl could just have that all the time. Hurting, damaged children hurt everyone, damaged everyone’s sense of justice in the world. Some things just shouldn’t be allowed to happen, ever – and what Kathleen had done was right up there on the ‘no fucking way, no fucking how’ list.

  Yet again, Annie wondered why Kathleen had done it, how she could have done it. And yet again, she tried to accept that she’d never know, never understand. She wasn’t hardwired the way that Kathleen was, and even though Annie could reel off a lengthy list of her own shortcomings and weaknesses, she could also say with certainty that she wasn’t a woman who put herself before her children.

  Before anybody’s children.

  “Mom?” Noah’s impatient voice cut through her thoughts. “Hey, Mom?”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “He’s waiting for you.”

  And to her surprise – a surprise that was going to last for the next thirty-eight years of her life – he was.

  **

  Sam watched Annie walk away from Noah, walk across the dance floor. Walk over to him. She looked so beautiful in that pale pink dress, the shade just soft enough to complement and not clash with her hair. Her makeup was subtle and elegant, her hair was framing her heart-shaped face, and she was moving with a regal grace that stole his breath.

  His princess.

  Dear God, how he’d missed her.

  And suddenly there she was in front of him, a bit taller than usual in higher heels than she’d ever worn with him before, but still looking up at him. He grappled for the words to begin this conversation, and she seemed to know that he needed a few seconds, because she just stood there and waited.

  It occurred to Sam just how much waiting Annie had done for him. Oh, five weeks wasn’t forever, that was true, but it wasn’t about the time, was it? It was about the intensity of events that had unfolded, the avalanche of things that had washed down and over them, and most of all, about the pain of just not knowing what was happening or what might happen.

  Annie had been outside of things, in most senses, but Sam wasn’t kidding himself that she hadn't weathered the storm in her own way. She’d been left alone, left in the dark, left just sitting and waiting – and she’d met that challenge with grace and fortitude.

  Not once had she texted him an angry message, or called him and taken him on a guilt-trip. In their nightly conversations, she’d never talked about how she was feeling, though he knew that she was hurting and sad and missing him, because he felt the exact same way. She’d never asked him to put her needs or wants over Cindy’s, not even to meet him for a coffee for twenty minutes, and he knew that she never would. Annie was a giving, thoughtful, gentle woman, and she’d shown Sam the true beauty and strength of the line of poetry that went, ‘they also serve who only stand and wait’.

  He knew that Annie saw herself as a mere maidservant in her own life, a woman who literally brought food to people day-in and day-out. A simple woman who’d set aside her every hope for herself, her every dream of glory, in order to raise her children. An uneducated handmaiden who had denied her heart’s most secret and passionate desires, over and over, and given way to the wishes of people whose own desires she ranked above her own as more important and relevant.

  In the story of her life, she’d always cast herself in a minor role, and Sam knew that if he asked her to name a fairy tale character that best represented how she saw herself, she’d probably pick the spoiled little prince’s nanny, the cook, the maid in the castle. Maybe, if she was feeling a bit confident, the princess’ lady-in-waiting.

  But for Sam, she’d always always been his princess. He’d almost convinced her that that’s what she was, almost gotten her to see her amazing beauty, her fierce spirit – but then they’d been torn apart. And now he had no idea what she thought.

  Well. Time to find out.

  “Hi princess,” he said softly. “You look incredible.”

  She smiled, didn’t drop her eyes. Instead, she stood there in that tight dress, in those towering-high shoes, in the bright lights, and she looked so gorgeous and calm, his heart tugged.

  That’s my girl.

  “Do you want to dance?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her voice was sweet, joyful, and he rejoiced to hear it, to watch her lips move as he listened. “I’d love that, Sam.”

  He extended his arms, and she stepped into them. Right away, their bodies moved together, then fit together, like they had dozens of times when they’d made love and then curled up together in sleep, or on the sofa to watch a movie. She felt so familiar against him, and Sam knew that this was where she belonged: she belonged right here.

  “It was a beautiful wedding,” he said, leading her in a slow circle. “Sarah and Jax look so happy.”

  “I know.” Annie looked over at her daughter and son-in-law, saw that they were looking right back at her. Jax gave her a saucy little loaded wink, and Annie blushed, knowing what he was thinking. Hell, she was thinking it herself. “They’ve made it, Sam. I wasn’t always sure that they would, you know… but they proved me wrong.”

  “People can surprise you, honey.”

  “Yes.” She met his eyes again. “Yes, they can.”


  They gazed at each other, looked away at the exact same time. It was still a bit too soon to address the gigantic pink elephant wearing a tutu and standing over at the bar doing Tequila shots.

  “How is Cindy doing?” she asked. “Is she sleeping through the night yet?”

  “Yes,” he replied, and she heard the relief in his voice. “No more nightmares.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Annie hesitated. “Is she still talking about her Mom?”

  “Yes. Not every day, but a few times a week, for sure. Not so much asking where Kathleen is or why she left, though. Now it’s more stuff like, ‘Mommy loved this TV show’ or ‘Mommy used to make me this sandwich’.”

  “It sounds like she’s got Kathleen in the past. Like she died and Cindy’s remembering her.”

  “I know. I talked to the therapist about it, and she said that’s a healthy response, at least for now. It gives Cindy some distance to process what happened, and to gain some perspective on her current reality. Soon enough, she’ll realize that Kathleen is still out there somewhere, and that’s when I expect she’ll start asking questions again.”

  “What does the therapist say about them having a relationship?”

  “She says that in her experience, mothers who abandon their children usually come back at some point seeking a relationship, though it may take years for that to happen. My job is to prepare Cindy for the possibility that Kathleen might be back one day.”

  “And at the same time, you also have to prepare her for the possibility that Kathleen might never be back.”

  “Exactly.” Sam stared down at her, marveling how Annie always finished his thoughts for him so easily. “Cindy is going to have to be a strong, resilient young woman, and she’ll have to be that way for her entire life. Just in case there’s a knock on the door one day.” He shook his head. “Or just in case that knock never comes.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “I know.” Sam sighed. “I know many people have survived much worse, honey, but she’s my daughter, so all I really can see is her suffering. I have no sense of context or perspective when it comes to her.”