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by Lea Griffith

  He’d hired the middle-age Hispanic woman struggling to feed three children, raise them right, and not kill herself doing it. She’d been a prominent figure in Ruthie’s life for twelve years, and Ruthie loved her like the mother she’d never really had.

  Her children were included in that love. Ruthie was the real winner, though.

  Mimi tsked. “You spoil us all. Now what are your plans for the day?”

  Ruthie knew that was her cue to get out of the bed, but for the life of her she couldn’t force her limbs to comply. Maybe it was the sun—its magical warmth a safe haven of sorts. Maybe it was fear of not being successful in her venture.

  After several years of living in Vegas, away from the temptation Tobias Edwards posed, she’d grown accustomed to simple, uncomplicated trips back to her home state. She very rarely encountered Tobias, and she still wondered if that was on purpose or just how the cards fell each time she was there. Her most recent trip had seen her best friend, Daly, once again engaged to Ruthie’s brother, Jeremiah. What a pairing those two were! So much intensity Ruthie hadn’t been able to breathe being in the same room with them. To have what those two had together would have undone Ruthie.

  But in her heart it was her secret wish.

  By some miracle, her luck hadn’t run out, and though she had limited dealings with Tobias, that last visit he had managed to prod her, hovering more than usual. She was grateful when he left a room, even though she had to try to overcome the sharp ache she felt in her chest whenever he did. How easy they used to be together…how right. Then he’d chosen to step away from her, leaving her flailing and alone in her needs and desires. He’d cut her quick and deep, and thank God he hadn’t left her hanging three years ago.

  She’d really be a mess if he’d done that. But no, he made sure that when he snipped the ties that bound them he did it effectively and without remorse.

  Everything that made her world beautiful had gone gray. But her last visit home had changed something inside Ruthie. The yearning had grown, and for the first time in three years she’d been unable to push it away.

  “Mija, your frown will chase away the sun,” Mimi scolded with a laugh.

  Her housekeeper slash caretaker slash stand-in mother’s words brought Ruthie back to the present. Another rough slide to reality, but she sat up, stretching and continuing to soak up the sun.

  “Well, we can’t allow that to happen, now, can we?” Ruthie asked, forcing a grin.

  “You are no good at that,” Mimi told her, shuffling around the room, tidying this and that but more than likely trying to make sure Ruthie was okay.

  “At what?”

  “Running,” Mimi responded.

  Ruthie’s laugh took her by surprise. “I beg to differ, Mimi—I excel at running. But today is a new day, and I’m not about running anymore.”

  She’d run from him three years ago instead of making him face what they were together. All of that was over.

  “Perhaps it’s time you settled down.”

  Ruthie allowed a long sigh to escape and then winced. Mimi had her figured out.

  “Ah, they say the eyes are a window to the soul, but how can the soul know where to fly when your eyes are closed?” the woman asked sagely.

  From anyone else it would have been a reminder of the loss of her sight. From Mimi it was a warning. Chills replaced the sun’s warmth, and Ruthie shivered.

  “It’s a good thing I love you, Mimi,” Ruthie muttered.

  “I say that yes, yes it is. And I love you, mija.” It was another prompt, and Ruthie took it as such.

  Ruthie’s vision had dimmed at the age of five. By seven she was blind. The doctors said it was a genetic disorder, a chromosomal anomaly they’d been unable to do anything to prevent. Her older brother had tried so hard, gone through so much making sure his baby brother and sister were cared for, but even the great Jeremiah Copeland couldn’t bow fate.

  So Ruthie had gone slowly blind, losing the ability to see color first, then gradually the ability to do anything more than distinguish shapes and shadows. Her brother, so very desperate for her to experience everything possible before she lost her sight, had stolen books from a local bookstore, reading to her as she pored over the pictures.

  It was Jeremiah’s love for her that had led her to painting. One day, after a particularly fruitful endeavor at the bookstore, he’d stolen her first watercolor set from the local art store that sat beside it. Then he’d hit up another store, filching unused canvases and brushes. He’d been a menace to the locals, no doubt, and yet no one had turned him in—or maybe her brother was just that good at thieving. Whatever the case, he’d given her an outlet when her frustration at losing the ability to see had made her want to curl into a ball and cry.

  At first, she’d re-created the pictures she’d seen and Jeremiah had hung them up all over their dilapidated apartment. He’d covered their walls, and she’d known her brother was her savior.

  In the heart of a seven-year-old, there was room for so many, yet while she loved her other brother, David, it was Jeremiah who had been her light. He’d raised her, giving up his life to provide for her and David. He’d kept a child sane in the midst of blindness. It was something Ruthie could never repay.

  But Jeremiah had never asked. What he had done was be her rock, and then he’d gone even further and introduced her to her future—Tobias Edwards.

  She had never seen Tobias’s face, yet she’d painted his likeness within hours of first touching him. She remembered his silence and Jeremiah’s hushed, “Damn,” when she’d showed them. Ruthie still had that painting—she couldn’t see it, but tracing the ridges of the paint gave her peace.

  “Your plans?” Mimi asked as she came back into the bedroom.

  “I’m going to make sure the property I bought is ready for me,” she informed her as she shifted to sit on the edge of the bed.

  Mimi handed her a robe, and Ruthie slid into the silk.

  Mimi sighed and tsked again. “Are you hungry?”

  “Nope, but if I am, I’ll pick up something on the way. When does your flight to Guatemala leave?”

  As congratulations for surviving the years of raising her three sons, Ruthie was paying for Mimi to visit her homeland and family she hadn’t seen in more than sixteen years.

  “I’m not leaving until Friday, mija. But I’ll stay with Carlos the next couple of days. I’m going to get everything settled here today, and if you need me before I leave, you’ll call me.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

  It was Ruthie’s turn to sigh. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mimi laughed and Ruthie was eased. “You’ve seen your man?”

  “Here it comes,” Ruthie groused as she stood and stretched. “I have, and might I say he felt very fine, Mimi. Very fine indeed.”

  “Yes, but how did he look?”

  The woman was a closet pervert, Ruthie was positive. “Well, now, Mimi, you know I’m blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other.”

  Mimi cackled. “What is it you crazy Americanos say? You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

  “Not Americanos per se, but definitely Jeremiah Copeland,” Ruthie said with a laugh.

  “So?”

  Ruthie cocked her head. “So what?”

  “Does he still look like the most beautiful man you’ve ever touched?”

  Ruthie’s eyes watered, but she refused to let her tears fall. That’s how she’d described him to Mimi all those years ago. Beautiful. “He looks even better.”

  “Ah-ah-ah, this I know, mija. There is no time for tears just now. Later, maybe, after the hardhead that’s attached to all that beauty drives you insane, but right now, I’ve cooked breakfast and you have company, preciosa. Best to get showered and changed, eh?”

  Mimi’s tone was sly, which set all of Ruthie’s radars off. “Who’s here?”

  “Shower, then eat, yes?” Mimi asked, her voice fading as she hightailed it out of the bedroom.

  There was no
telling who was waiting in the apartment. Probably Tobias. She showered and pulled her robe back on, towel-drying her hair before she combed it.

  She smelled him before she saw him. His scent was easily recognizable among all others. Above the lemon of the dusting spray and floor cleaner she smelled cedar. She stopped as she entered the kitchen, took a deep breath, and walked to the refrigerator.

  “You’re early. You must have been up all night planning and plotting how you’d evade my attempts to corral you. I have to say, this approach isn’t one I expected,” she mused aloud.

  He gave her no warning. One minute she was bending down to grab the orange juice and the next she was against the cabinets beside the fridge, Tobias pressed full length against her, fisting her wet hair and pulling her head back.

  “I didn’t expect that,” she forced out of her suddenly dry throat. “But I approve.”

  “Shut up, Ruthie,” he ground out.

  Then his mouth was on hers, forcing hers open as he pillaged and plundered. She’d never been kissed the way Tobias kissed her. It was more than possession—it was a carnal demand that she accede to him on every level. That demand went beyond their mouths, sinking into her heart and rending it wide open so he could pull everything she might hide from him into the light.

  Their tongues dueled. She moaned and he groaned. He breathed for her and she let him, never nay-saying or stopping to wonder at his change of heart. She waited, biding her time. Then his touch gentled and she struck.

  She moved swiftly, taking him off guard now, twisting until his back was against the cabinets as she became the aggressor.

  Her hands wrapped in the silk of his hair, tugging until he lowered his mouth to hers once again. She bit his lower lip and then licked across it. Their mouths met, completely open, touching only long enough for a breath before she pulled away.

  She rolled her hips against his, laughing in delight as the hardness of his cock nudged her pussy. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, then he turned them again and this time her back met the cold metal of the fridge.

  Ruthie hissed in a breath and he swooped in, licking into her mouth with bold, sure strokes, stealing her mind.

  His hands kneaded her ass as he pressed his hips into the cradle of hers, trying to relieve them both.

  She wasn’t naked beneath the robe, but how she wished she were.

  As suddenly as he’d come to her, he moved away, setting her down and taking a few steps back. Ruthie sagged against the refrigerator as she struggled to find her breath.

  “I lay in bed last night, Ruthie, thinking about you, tasting you. I didn’t shower once I made it home because I was afraid it might wash off your smell. You were on my tongue, in my throat, and your taste burned in my gut. I’ve made it three fucking years, staying on your periphery, doing my best to remain away from you. Do you know how I was able to do that?”

  He’d stolen her mind and she couldn’t form words, so she shook her head.

  “Because I didn’t have to see you every day. I didn’t have to hear your laugh, watch you smile, or smell the jasmine that floats off your skin.” His nose brushed along her cheek, down over her jaw, and then she felt just the barest caress of his tongue over her pulse.

  Her hands clenched on the muscles of his broad shoulders. “I’m home, Tobias,” she finally managed to force past a throat now clogged with tears.

  He breathed in, the action bringing their chests into contact again. “You’re home.” His fingers dug into her hips. “You’re home and you’ve dared me, Ruthie.”

  She nodded, afraid to hope where this was leading. It was too fast—this had been too easy.

  “I asked you to leave three years ago.”

  Another nod. “You did.”

  “I’m asking you right now, again, to please leave.”

  There it was. Not so easy after all. She steeled her spine, pushed her hair off her face, and stood tall. Ruthie belted her robe and ran her hands down the silk, trying to calm herself before she said something in anger that could damage her efforts even further.

  Her chest hurt, the dull ache brought on by his words spreading through her limbs. “I lay in bed last night, Tobias, thinking about you, tasting you. I did shower, but I’ve never had to worry about forgetting your smell because it’s haunted me since I left you. I fell asleep with you on my tongue, in my throat, and your taste burning my gut. I left three fucking years ago,” she stated, tears rolling in hot tracks down her cheeks, “letting you stay on my periphery, doing my best to let you remain away from me. Tell me, Tobias, do you know how I was able to do that?”

  She’d taken several steps forward, her anger propelling her. They’d have to deal with that anger eventually, but not right now. It didn’t mean she could control it—she was definitely having a hard time controlling it.

  “Do you know how, Tobias?” she demanded.

  “No.”

  “I wasn’t. It almost broke me,” she admitted. “And that’s why I’m here. And that’s why I’m not leaving.”

  He didn’t say a word, and his lack of response pissed her off. “I am daring you, Tobias. Daring you to let me in.”

  Her voice broke at the end, but she was beyond caring. She wiped her eyes and turned away from him. She felt his stare, and it made her furious that he could see her but she couldn’t see him.

  “Turn around, Ruthie.”

  Command rang in his tone, and she turned before she could check the action. The inherent need to do as he said so telling as she gave him what he requested.

  “Let me in,” she whispered around her tears.

  He didn’t pull her close, didn’t make any move toward her at all except to use his thumb to wipe her tears away. “There are things inside me that will eat you alive. Don’t do this.”

  “I’ll slay your dragons if you’ll let me.”

  “Open your eyes, Ruthie,” he urged.

  “Why?” Her question was a breath, nothing more.

  “Because in your eyes I see my forever, and if anyone deserves to see what they’re losing, it’s me,” he returned.

  His words were devastating. He was admitting defeat and blocking her with his pain. He was hurting and refusing to let her soothe him.

  “You win, Tobias,” she admitted.

  “You’ll leave?”

  The hope in his voice cut a wicked swath through her heart.

  “Yes,” she conceded.

  Another stroke of his knuckles over her lips and he was gone.

  She sank to the floor, resting her head on her bent knees, and cried.

  “Mija?” Mimi called hesitantly as she kneeled before Ruthie. “You’re giving up?”

  Her sobs morphed then, stuttering in her chest and dying a vicious death to be replaced by a conviction that found life via laughter. From tears to maniacal laughter in the space of a second.

  “Mija?” Concern rang in Mimi’s tone now, which had Ruthie laughing even harder.

  She laughed until she cried, and then she cried until there weren’t any tears left. She wiped her face and raised her head. “I told him I would leave,” she told Mimi, but another giggle escaped.

  “So easy, then?”

  Ruthie shook her head, smile firmly in place now. “Oh, Mimi, you know me better than that. I told him I’d leave, but I didn’t tell him where I was going.”

  Mimi laughed as she helped Ruthie to her feet. When they’d both calmed, Mimi hugged Ruthie and stepped back.

  “When you left home the first time, I knew you’d return. You do not know the look on your face when Mr. Tobias walks in a room. And because your eyes are broken, you will never be able to see the look on his when you walk into his presence. But I will tell you it takes my breath. It is beautiful, mija, the way he looks at you. It is everything a woman wants from her man. I worried you would let his façade deter you, but your heart is a warrior, Miss Ruthie. I am proud of you.”

  Ruthie hugged Mimi again, pondering her words as she w
alked to her room to dress. By the time she’d called Stanton for a ride to the warehouse, she was feeling remarkably better, and Mimi’s words were still ringing in her ears.

  Ruthie didn’t know about what other women wanted or expected from their men; she only knew what she wanted from Tobias.

  And she was willing to do whatever it took to get it.

  Chapter 6

  Tobias’s steps were heavy as he walked to his car. Ruthie was leaving, and though it was what he wanted, the biggest part of him was already mourning. How many times would he be forced to push her away, and how much of himself would he lose as he did it?

  The truth was a bitter pill to swallow—he wouldn’t lose anything because it was already gone. Would that he were a better man, someone capable of loving her as she deserved.

  He ran a hand through his hair as he hit the key fob and opened the door. He had a meeting with Jeremiah and Dante Shaw in half an hour. As he pulled onto Peachtree Street from the garage beneath Jeremiah’s club and apartment building, he tried to pull his mind from Ruthie’s soft pink lips and heartbreaking eyes.

  He’d made her cry and he wanted to beat the shit out of himself. Self-flagellation wasn’t enough at this point. He continually hurt her, when that was the last thing he’d ever wanted.

  Four years ago, he’d manned up and asked Ruthie out. She’d long held his attention, but he’d been hesitant to do anything about his attraction because she was Jeremiah’s sister.

  It had taken Jeremiah dating Daly to wake Tobias up. He’d held back on asking Ruthie out because of his friendship with Jeremiah. When Jeremiah had gone after Tobias’s sister he’d realized that yes, he was actually allowed to date his best friend’s sister without fear of repercussions. His and Ruthie’s first date had been dinner and a movie. Damn, but that movie had turned his world on its axis. He’d known then that Ruthie was a natural submissive. The way she responded to his every suggestion, shyly at first and then a bit more demanding as the night wore on, had keyed Tobias in to what she needed—what lived beneath her surface.