The Bad Boy's Forever Girl

by Jessie Gussman

  His words surprised her, breaking the silence that had descended since they had gotten into the vehicle. Her head snapped around.

  “What made you say that?”

  “You sorta look like you’re going to your own execution.” He lifted his shoulder and glanced over before looking back at the road. She couldn’t tell whether that was hurt on his face or concern for her. Maybe a little bit of both?

  She wasn’t sure.

  “So my intention isn’t to make your life hard.”

  “It’s worth it for me.” She wasn’t sure exactly how to tell him she wanted him to go. Other than just saying it.

  She didn’t really have anything to use. Although she could use the fake relationship argument. But she didn’t really want to, because it wasn’t true.

  She didn’t want him to go because of the fake relationship. She wanted him to go because she liked him and wanted him to be with her.

  She wasn’t sure she could say all that, exactly. But she could tell the truth, as much as she was able to.

  “You’re right, I’m nervous about my parents’ reactions. Particularly my dad. My mom won’t make a scene, but she might not talk to you. I know that that’ll probably be hurtful to you, and it’s a little selfish of me, but I really want you there. And not because of what I’m trying to manipulate people into thinking. It’s because...I like you.”

  She knew she should look up, speak clearly, and be confident. So the fact that she was twisting her fingers in her lap, and looking at them, and speaking in almost a whisper, probably didn’t say too much about her character, even though she’d said the words that were hard.

  He reached across the seat and poked her leg gently with one finger. “Hey.”

  She looked up. He was smiling. She wasn’t sure whether she had ever seen quite that look in his eye before; he looked ridiculously pleased.

  Her heart continued to race, but her chest felt cool with relief. She might have scared him away. She might have had him laugh at her. Who knew what else he might have done.

  But that smile, she was pretty sure, said that he agreed with her.

  “What?” she asked with a smile of her own.

  “All you needed to say was that you wanted me.” His eye twitched. “And I’m there.”

  Of course, that made her smile.

  They were both wearing goofy grins when he pulled into the church lot.

  It was the biggest church in town—her father wouldn’t go to any other—with a new building in a sprawling lot, with plenty of places to park. Although the lot was very full, because they weren’t exactly early.

  Just a few minutes before, there would’ve been lots of people hurrying from their cars into the building, but now they walked with just a few other stragglers. People she recognized and said good morning to.

  Of course, they walked the slowest. Because of her leg. And Blade held her hand. That garnered a few second looks, and maybe a raised eyebrow or two, but nobody stared. She didn’t care. They could stare if they wanted to. She was proud to walk beside him, and it thrilled her beyond words to have him holding her hand.

  Her parents always sat four rows from the front. But Libby usually didn’t sit with them. Justice went to a different church. Maybe if Libby didn’t have the church secretary job, she would go to someplace smaller and less ostentatious as well. She was happy here. Now. Blade was with her.

  If they hurried out after the service was over, her father and mother might never even see Blade. Except her dad always gave the announcements.

  All the back rows were full. Blade and she found a seat toward the middle of the church. He sat with his hands in his lap, and she sat beside him with the proper six inches at least between them.

  Still, after some singing, her dad went up to do the announcements, and it wasn’t hard to see when he saw them.

  It was even easier to see when he recognized Blade.

  Libby wasn’t sure what it was, but that disapproving, angry look from her dad still had the power to freeze her soul and stop her heart. She started twisting her fingers in her lap.

  Blade put his hand down on the bench between them, palm up. She looked over, but he wasn’t looking at her; it was like he was just offering if she needed it.

  She didn’t need it. She could face her dad. She had plenty of times before. Although she tried hard to please her parents, if it was in her power to do so. Why not?

  But she wasn’t going to bow to their desires in this. She reached over and slid her fingers into Blade’s, and his hand closed around hers, warm and solid.

  She looked down at their joined hands and then up at him.

  His jaw was square, and he faced front. He must have felt her gaze, because he looked over and down, his brows raised.

  Her dad was still speaking at the front, and having grown up with him, she could tell he was furious.

  Either Blade couldn’t tell, or he wasn’t concerned.

  He must’ve seen something on her face though, because his brows went down, something flickered in his eyes, and he leaned over to her. “Change your mind?”

  His voice was soft, barely a sound, and she was sure no one else could hear him.

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to whisper and bring attention to them, but she leaned her head up, and he tilted his head, giving her his ear.

  She didn’t really mean for it to happen, but her lips brushed his cheek as she turned her head.

  His fingers tightened around hers.

  “I’m just worried about you,” she said softly. Her dad wasn’t a man who enjoyed being bested. And he would consider this being bested.

  He turned his head back toward hers, and this time, it was his lips brushing her cheek on the way to her ear. “I feel like I can do anything if you stand beside me. I’m not scared. But I appreciate your concern.”

  They couldn’t have this conversation here, so she squeezed his hand and smiled at him. Maybe they had stayed bent together slightly longer than necessary. Eventually, he straightened, and so did she.

  Her dad strode purposefully back to his seat and slid into the pew with her mother, his cheeks red, but he didn’t look at them.

  He didn’t do anything right away, but eventually, her dad leaned over to her mother and whispered for about three seconds.

  Maybe thirty seconds after that, her mother turned around. Her eyes went to Libby, and then skipped to Blade, then back to Libby. A white line appeared between her lips, and her brows lowered.

  Libby was pretty sure her parents loved her; of course they did. They were her parents. But they were the kind of parents who weren’t exactly lovey-dovey. They pushed her to do things and to be better. There wasn’t a lot of hugging or laughing in her house growing up.

  This was one of the things that her parents would feel they needed to do, in order to make her a better person or to protect her.

  She could almost hear them saying that Blade wasn’t good for her and that she could find someone better. They just didn’t understand that their idea of better wasn’t hers. She’d already tried “better” with her first husband, and that hadn’t worked. Her parents had approved of Cliff.

  Normally, she enjoyed sitting through the sermon, and it was applicable today. In fact, Blade and she exchanged several smiles as the pastor preached out of Job. Talking about being tried with fire and coming forth as gold. Maybe they hadn’t used those exact words last night when they were talking, but that was what they had been saying.

  She loved it when God worked those things out, not exactly hitting them over the head with something but making sure they understood that there was a lesson.

  She kind of thought, from the smile on Blade’s face as the sermon ended, that he appreciated the humor in that as well.

  They were still holding hands as they filed out of their pew.

  She hated to admit it, but she was thinking they needed to hurry to get out before her parents did.

  It wasn’t to be.

  S
omeone who knew Blade, and had had a trailer welded in his shop, stopped him. Libby stood beside him, content as he held her hand while they spoke for a few minutes.

  But then she felt a presence beside her. She didn’t really have to look to know it was her father.

  She turned and looked up. Her dad was tall and thin. Maybe a little taller than Blade even.

  “Are you coming for dinner today?” he asked. She could hear the undertone of anger in his voice, but she doubted anyone else would recognize it.

  “I don’t know. We hadn’t talked about what we were going to do after church.”

  Her mother spoke, soft but firm. “He’s not invited. After what he did to your sister, I’m shocked and embarrassed that you would bring him here and sit with him like it’s perfectly okay.”

  Her mother hadn’t garnered any attention, and a fake smile remained etched on her face.

  “You do know he’s a registered sex offender. Is that really who you want to be seen with?” her father asked. This time, a little more of his anger came out.

  “There was no evidence that pointed to his guilt. The only reason he was convicted was because the people wanted someone to lynch.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Anger flashed in her father’s eyes. Her mother’s lips pursed, and she lifted her chin. Now Libby’s heart hurt. She’d tried hard all her life to please her parents, but she wasn’t going to go with them on this.

  A person was only guilty if there were evidence. If it could be proven.

  Sure, she liked Blade. But she’d been there, and she knew there was no evidence. It had been her sister’s word against his. And her sister was Judge Hopkins’s daughter. Blade hadn’t stood a chance.

  “So you don’t want us to come to lunch today?” she asked, just to be clear. Not that she had been thinking that she would drag Blade to her parents’ house anyway where he could stand for more abuse.

  “You are welcome anytime, Liberty. You know that.” Her father got a hold of himself, and the anger in his voice was back to just a small undertone. “But he is not welcome. And I think you know why. We’re not being unreasonable.”

  Her parents gave her a last look before they walked away.

  Liberty closed her eyes and blew out a breath. It could’ve been worse. She knew she was doing right, but there was just that feeling in her heart, that uncomfortable yucky feeling, when someone’s upset with her, even if she was right.

  “I can feed myself.”

  Her head snapped to Blade. Whoever he had been talking to had walked off. She hadn’t even realized it. People milled about them, some of them nodding, some of them saying hi, but no one stopped to talk.

  Blade continued to stare down at her.

  “I’m sure you can,” she said. “But I thought we were eating together?”

  “If you usually have Sunday lunch at your parents’ house, I don’t want to be the one to screw that up for you.”

  “I think we already talked about this, didn’t we? I think I said you were worth it.”

  A ghost of a smile passed over his face. “Sometimes, when people are confronted with reality, they change their mind.”

  She smiled, trying to shrug off the heaviness in her heart and go for a lighter tone. “Well, I am a woman, and I do reserve the right to change my mind. But I haven’t changed it about this. About you.”

  He gave that smile again, the one she was starting to really love.

  “Then let’s do this together.” He matched his steps to hers as they walked the rest of the way out of church and across the parking lot to his truck.

  Chapter 17

  The next several weeks flew by and were some of the best of Blade’s life. Being with Libby was better than being with any of the friends he’d ever spent time with.

  She’d hang out with him in the garage while he worked on motors for himself after he’d welded for the Richmond Rebels all day.

  He’d go in with her when she did her work as a church secretary. Sometimes, she had him helping her make flower decorations, which he wasn’t very good at. But he was probably just as good at that as she was at turning a wrench, and she had a great attitude. Not only about helping him, but about learning. He figured he could do the same for her.

  So yeah, he could make a simple flower arrangement. Nothing that anyone would pay for, but he could make their dinner table look nice.

  He could even pick a few wildflowers and throw them in a mason jar, seeing the flowers and thinking of Libby. He’d set them on the counter in the garage, and people would comment on them when they came in.

  Libby got a kick out of being able to tell them that Blade had made the arrangement. He did it just to see her smile.

  They’d come in early today, because the news of who had been awarded the contract was supposed to be announced. But when they arrived, neither Foster nor Thad had gotten any information. Bram had been there, but he’d gone home to sleep.

  By lunchtime, they still hadn’t heard anything, and so he took Libby’s hand, carried their lunches outside, and walked a couple blocks to the park.

  A beautiful day, warm but not hot, and he and Libby sat on the bench, facing the river.

  Before he got their lunches out, he kissed her. There wasn’t too much he’d rather do, no matter where he was, than kiss Libby. She seemed to be okay with it.

  Actually, he smiled to himself, she definitely enjoyed it. Which was pretty crazy to him.

  They’d just started eating their lunch when Libby took a bite of her sandwich and swallowed. “Do you think the fact that we haven’t heard anything is good or bad?”

  He shrugged. “I really have no idea. This is the first time we’ve ever done anything like this. But if I had to choose, I guess I’d say bad? Wouldn’t they tell the people who got the contract first?”

  “I don’t know.” She took another bite of her sandwich and watched the river flow.

  Their relationship had seemed to be real for a while now. But he hadn’t really talked to her about it. He figured that they’d agreed to the fake relationship until the contract was awarded. He’d been pretty sure that Libby wasn’t faking anything, and he knew he wasn’t.

  It seemed like a good time.

  Suddenly, his hands were sweating. Even though he was pretty sure what her answer would be, he was scared because, on the off chance that her words weren’t what he wanted, he was afraid it was going to destroy his world.

  This was the happiest he’d ever been. He didn’t want to lose it.

  “I’ve felt for a while, maybe even right after we started, that what I was doing with you wasn’t fake. Even though that’s what we’d agreed to.” A bite of his sandwich seemed to be caught in his throat, and he cleared it.

  She’d been staring at the water, and he followed her gaze. It was pretty and relaxing, and he kind of wished he hadn’t said anything. He could enjoy just sitting on the bench and watching the river flow as long as Libby was beside him.

  He leaned back, crossing his leg and putting his ankle on his knee, stretching his arm out behind her on the back of the park bench.

  She put the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth and snuggled into his arm. A good sign, he thought.

  “Am I supposed to say something here?” she asked.

  He laughed. He didn’t know. “I’m trying to find out how you feel about what we have.”

  She turned her head to him, looking up. “You mean do I want to go back to having a fake relationship?”

  “No. I guess I wanted to know how you felt about our relationship. We never really said ‘let’s make it real.’ But that’s kinda how I felt about it.”

  She looked at his shoulder before looking back at the water. “That’s how I feel.”

  He hadn’t expected it to be that easy. Is that really all they had to say about it? “So, we’re together? You and me?”

  She studied his face, maybe trying to figure out what exactly he was saying. “Yes. That’s what I want.”


  “Good, then it’s settled.” He kind of felt like it should be settled with a kiss, and he was leaning down to do just that when he heard a voice.

  “Look who’s all cozied up on the park bench.”

  Sultry. Low. Familiar.

  One he hated with every fiber of his being.

  Libby’s sister, Mariam.

  He could never forget that voice. He’d spent three years in prison with it ringing in his head.

  He froze.

  Vaguely he registered the concern on Libby’s face, but with the heat that rushed through his limbs and powered up his neck, he couldn’t focus.

  Although he did, very deliberately, put his hand, possessively and obviously, on Libby’s shoulder and kept his arm around her back.

  And, why not? So he finished lowering his head and touched her lips with his.

  He’d not thought about Libby’s reaction. Maybe she’d fight such an obvious display of possession, and even dominance, since it was him holding her.

  If he’d been thinking, he would have hesitated, and probably wouldn’t have done it at all. Too much chance of struggle or rejection, rightfully so, because he wasn’t kissing her anymore because he wanted to, he was doing it to make a point. Libby could ruin everything by not going along with his male posturing. He wasn’t exactly being gentle.

  But it was Libby, and she melted under his touch. Her body compliant to his, her hand cupping his face lightly and a small sound, maybe a gasp or groan escaping from her lips as he pressed against her more fully.

  And suddenly it wasn’t about revenge or posturing or making any kind of point, and it became all about the woman beside him and against him, her softness under his hands, her taste on his tongue, her scent surrounding him and his world shrinking to just the two of them and his crazy heart blazing hard and hot in his chest and every nerve ending attuned to her slightest movement.

  There was no park or bench or sun in the sky. Nothing else mattered, except the dawning realization in his head that he would never want to be with anyone else.

  “You don’t need to be vulgar.” The voice was no longer sultry, but cut like hot wire through butter. “Everyone knows you’re an ex-con. No one needs you to prove it.”