Recompense For Love: Book Three of the Against All Odds Series

by Gemini Jensen

  “Come on. I made you breakfast.” I ignore the kindly offered hand, and he drops it.

  “I’m not hungry,” I argue. As if on cue, my stomach grumbles loud and obnoxiously. Fucking traitor.

  His eyes glide to my stomach, then back to my face, a winning smile sliding in place.

  I roll my eyes for the fiftieth time this morning, clamping the sheet in between my breasts like I’m gripping the edge of a cliff, until I reach my robe hanging on the door of my closet. Turning my back to him, I decide to be a bit daring—since I can’t actually see his reaction. I drop my hold on the sheet, allowing it to flutter to the floor and land at my bare feet. Then, I reach out quickly, grabbing the robe, sliding my arms inside and knotting up the sash at my waist faster than I’ve ever dressed myself in my life.

  I turn around to find Nash glaring at me, his jaw ticking in restrained emotion—I’m not particularly sure which one—as his hand grips my door frame. We stare at each other for what feels like eons, my stomach participating in a weird combination of growling and tossing—both due to entirely different types of hunger. Finally, he speaks.

  “If you’re done with your little show, let’s go eat before it gets cold.”

  Little show? Whatever. “Yeah, okay,” I agree, although my tone isn’t all that friendly. I need at least three cups of coffee in my system before I’m not in hostile territory.

  “And Lyra…” he says suddenly, just as he steps out into the hallway.

  “What?” I snap, maybe because I’m turning into a hangry bitch—again, both types of hunger being to blame.

  “Breakfast isn’t the only thing I’ll be eating this morning.” He winks before disappearing down the hall toward the kitchen, and I have to force myself to have the courage to follow.

  I settle into the same seat I was in last night, and he slides in across from me. Upon inspecting the smorgasbord of breakfast foods in front of me—eggs, grits, toast, bacon, and slices of strawberries and bananas along with some grapes and raspberries.

  “Wow. I’ve not eaten a breakfast like this in forever.”

  He scratches the back of his neck like he’s suddenly unsure of himself. “Yeah. I, uh, didn’t know what you’d want. I just made a little of everything. I hope you still eat your eggs the same way.”

  I glance back at the plate of eggs, noting that there are both scrambled—presumably for him, and fried whites—presumably for me seeing as how I’ve never liked the yolks. I can’t believe he remembers such a small detail after all these years.

  “I do. Thank you for this.” I hesitate a moment before diving in, suddenly feeling a little shy even though this is my house and the one place where I should feel most at ease. But when he’s here with me, doing sweet things like making me breakfast and showing up just to make sure I’m not doing something foolish, like he did last night—it knocks my entire world off its axis.

  As I scoop the food onto my plate, I try to steady my hand, hoping like hell he can’t see the way it tremors. If he notices, he doesn’t comment and we settle into silence as we enjoy our meal. I, however, can’t stay quiet for very long. Small talk is better than deafening silence.

  “So, I was driving home last night and I noticed you’re putting an office in downtown?”

  He nods his head. “I’ve decided it would be best for Ari if I moved back home. I can be around Aunt Marlowe and Uncle Randall, have their help with raising him, and he’d grow up with more of a family unit that way.”

  How does he do that? He goes from this cocky frat boy who just graduated college not long ago, to the doting Dad who’s all serious and down to business.

  “He doesn’t have family from his Mom’s side?” I search his face for any sign that my question is too invasive, but he seems at ease, chewing his food before answering with a sigh.

  “The only family he had left before he came to live with me, was his Grandmother, Nancy. She passed away a few weeks after I met her.”

  I pause just as I’m shoveling another bite of food into my mouth, accidently dropping my fork with a loud clatter. “No,” I gasp. “You mean, he…lost his mom, then his grandmother died right after?” It’s like I can’t stop myself. My mouth just has to open up and speak the words, highlighting the tragedy of the whole situation like he doesn’t already know.

  Nash simply continues to nod.

  “But he lost his whole family practically at one time. How does someone—a kid no less—come back from that?” I muse. No sooner are the words out of my mouth am I instantly regretting them. Sometimes having no filter can a be a real pain in the ass.

  The penetrating stare he slices me with is enough to make my heart break.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking…” I wince.

  He surprises the hell out of me when he refrains from biting my head off. “He won’t come back from it. Not entirely. But he’ll learn to live with it.”

  “And he’s so lucky you’re his dad. There’s not anyone out there who could possibly understand what he’s going through like you do…” Without thinking, I reach across the table to squeeze his hand in assurance.

  “Thanks,” his taut voice replies.

  “So…” I say, hoping to move past the subject stat. “How are you two settling in?”

  “Surprisingly well. The only issue is finding childcare. There aren’t any spots at the local daycare…and Central Valley still only has one. Can you believe that? I’m going to have to find a babysitter or something. The office is opening in a week.”

  “They didn’t have a spot for the infamous Nash Hudson’s child?” I arch a brow.

  “I didn’t really pull the name-card. Just called as a parent who’d recently moved to town and got shot down instantly.”

  “Um, hello…You’re the mayor’s freaking nephew. Here’s what you do…you stop by the daycare, and you introduce yourself. I guarantee they’ll accommodate you.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. This town loves your family…” Wish it were the same for all of us, I think to myself.

  “I hope you’re right, but I don’t have much option other than to try.”

  I push my plate back, stretching my arms over my head. “Thanks for breakfast. It was amazing.” Eyeing his food, I realize there’s quite a bit left. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “I have the worst habit of nibbling on everything while I’m cooking. Then, I have no appetite when the table’s set.”

  “Well, you cooked. I’ll clean up.” I hop up and start clearing the table before he has a chance to protest. Grabbing the coffee pot, I top off his coffee.

  “You don’t have to do that, Stars. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yes. You. Are,” I mumble under my breath, my cheeks heating as thoughts from last night begin invading my head like high-tide, and there’s nothing I can do to make them stop. “It’s just the waitress in me,” I offer, attempting to distract myself from the slippery slope my brain is currently sending me down.

  “What’d you do after high-school?” he asks out of nowhere as I’m loading the dishwasher.

  “Same as everyone else…Went to school. Got a degree I’ll never use, especially if I stay in this place. But to be honest…I don’t even want to make a living using the degree I went for. At the time, I just felt pressured to do something.” Why I feel the need to explain myself or my actions to him, I’m unsure. I don’t need his approval, but here I am seeking it regardless.

  “What’s your degree in?”

  “Just plain ol’ generic business management…”

  “If you have a degree, then why are you waitressing?”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t have dreams? Aspirations?” He turns around in his chair, straddling it to face me.

  I don’t know why but the question catches me off guard. It’s only for a split second and then I’m reeling at the question hitting too close to home. “Of course I have dreams and aspirations! What? You think just
because you went off to college—the big Chapel Hill—and you played sports for them and became the big man on campus…that because you graduated and got the hot trophy girlfriend and started your business doing what you loved, that you’re somehow better than me because of it?” My voice bounces off the walls of the small enclosed space.

  “Don’t be fucking absurd.” His teeth grind together, causing his jaw to clench as he glares at me, but it doesn’t deter me from my outburst.

  “Well that’s what you think isn’t it? Hell. What was I thinking? You were part of the Bully Squad. Of course you think you’re better than me. You’re an almighty Hudson, and I’m just the lowly Lyra Knightley. The same old loser, Knightley outcast trash I was back in High-School.”

  Nash stands abruptly, knocking the chair over and storming toward me in anger. I flinch when his hands grip my hips with purpose, and he lifts me in the air, planting me firmly on the bar. Splaying his hands at either side of me and sliding them forward, he’s suddenly in my face.

  “Don’t fucking say those things about yourself,” he all but snarls, his eyes darkening from broken sea glass to deep emerald in an instant.

  Funny, I’ve always associated green as being the color of jealousy and envy—but right now I’d call it the color of wrathful passion.

  “Why?” I challenge, leaning forward an extra centimeter until our noses are touching. “It’s not like you haven’t said them before.”

  “You’re wrong. I never—not once—said shit about you, no matter how many times someone tried to provoke me. The only time I ever let something I heard about you get to me, was when I heard Billy and Tommy made that bet about taking your virginity. Even then, I said nothing. I just took action.”

  I lean back, searching his face, which remains stoic and closed-off. “You took action? How? Why?” My voice cracks.

  “WHY? Because it fucking killed me that someone would do that to you. I hated him for it—both of them. But I think what I hated more than anything, was that it wasn’t me. I snapped. I did some terrible shit that I still wouldn’t take back even if I could.”

  Suddenly everything clicks into place. “You’re the one who ruined Tommy’s hair. Oh my God. That’s crazy.”

  He gives a curt nod before taking a deep breath. “And I’m the one who sent out the video of Billy fucking his mom’s best friend. He’s the one who had the idea of the bet.” His face is pinched with concern, like he’s afraid of what I’ll think.

  “I’ve never told anyone those things either…Fuck.” He scrubs one hand over his face. “You probably think I’m fucked up in the head. To be honest, I was at that point in my life, but I can’t say I wouldn’t do something even more drastic if someone did something to screw you over today—tomorrow.”

  “But we weren’t even friends anymore at the time…We hadn’t spoken in two years,” I remind him, trying to wrap my head around the bomb he just dropped on me.

  “So the fuck what? Two years. Twenty years. It could be a lifetime without us talking, but time or distance—not even this fucked up mess fate chose to put our families through—could diminish the way I feel about you, how much I care, Stars.”

  A single tear slices down my cheek. “You care about me?” I seek validation for my disbelief, my voice cracking with emotion.

  “Probably too much for my own good.” Taking the pad of his thumb, he brushes the tear away, then cradles my face between his hands staring me directly in the eye. “Definitely too much for my own good. If I told you how much I’m suddenly beginning to realize I care, it would scare you away.”

  My heart swells, growing with adoration and hope and so many things it’s learned to repress over the years, pushing against my chest like it’s swelling, needing more room for accommodation if he utters another word.

  “If it’s the way I feel, then I already know…” I whisper.

  He whisks me up, carrying me into my room and laying me out on the bed.

  ~XoXo~

  Nash kisses me on the nose, causing a smile to break loose.

  “I’ll give you a head start, then I’ll probably join you,” I shyly state.

  “Probably? You better…” He kisses me again—on the lips this time, heading into the bathroom and leaving the door wide open.

  I sigh, continuing to lay here in pure bliss. How did everything in my life change so sporadically? I’ve not felt this excited about my future in forever…sure, we have a million kinks to work out, but I’m not going to worry about them now. With Nash, I feel like we can handle anything together.

  So what if he’s got a lot on his plate?

  So what if he just came out of a serious relationship—I knew him way before she did…I’ve known him for much, much longer.

  Who cares if our families won’t approve? They’ll get used to it, and when that finally happens, everyone else will have to fall in line as well.

  His phone pings from the nightstand, and I don’t mean to be snoopy, I really don’t, but I reach for it. He has a little boy—it could be something important from his aunt.

  I glance at the screen only intending to see if the message is from his Aunt Marlowe or Uncle Randall, but when I see Jenna’s name, and that her entire message is available for my viewing, how can I not read it?

  Jenna: I think I made a huge mistake. I got scared, but I need you Nash. I know we can work this out. I want you to be my husband. Please give me a call.

  There are two missed calls from last night he must have chose not to answer because of me. My heart and body begin working in opposites—my heart sinking right about the time I rise off the bed.

  Fuck. I’m an idiot. This was stupid. I let myself believe everything would be all hunky-dory, that we’d fall in love and live happily-ever-after. He’s not even sure about breaking things off with Jenna. He can’t be if she’s still saying things like this to him.

  I’ve been there, done that. There’s no way I’m being the other woman again. I won’t endure the backlash of breaking up an engagement, especially considering whose engagement it is. Taking into account my social standing, I’d be driven from the town immediately, complete with torches and pitch forks. No hope of ever fitting in anywhere. Not even Grace could keep me anymore.

  I march straight into the bathroom, jerking open the curtain on him as I hold up his phone to him.

  “Are you pulling a Marcus here? Tell me I’m not the other woman!” I challenge, not even remotely caring I flew in here butt naked to demand an answer. “I know this is probably just a one-night stand, with morning seconds,” I add as an afterthought, “But damn it, Nash. I won’t be used like this.”

  He stares at me, green eyes shining with pity as he takes in my fragile mental state.

  “Put my phone down,” he orders, his tone authoritative but not quite hateful.

  I do so.

  “Now come get in here with me.” Drops of water roll off his expansive chest, drawing my eyes there. I unconsciously lick my lips. I shake my head slowly, only half-decided I don’t want to join him.

  “I’m not going to fuck you, but I do want to talk.”

  My eyes slide back up to his face for any hint of treachery, any sign he intends to hurt me purposefully, or outright lie to me. I don’t find anything but seriousness and sincerity, however, from past experience, I’m not the world’s best at reading people.

  Releasing an irritable sigh, I step inside.

  “Go on a date with me.” He says it immediately, not even answering any of the questions I threw at him upon storming in the bathroom.

  We stare at each other, both of us trying to get a read on the other person and their intentions. Apparently, he’s just as apprehensive of me, as I’m distrustful of him.

  “No.” I cross my arms over my breasts as I glare his way.

  He glares right back at me, clearly not liking my answer.

  “No?” He challenges.

  “No. No dates. Things are way too messy between us for that, but I have to know…A
m I just a fun time to you, Nash? Just a quick lay until you and Jenna sort things out?” I ask, straight to the point.

  “Does it even matter?” he grunts, lounging back against the tile wall boldly.

  I scoff, shamelessly raking my eyes over his body and back up to his face. This is the worst type of distraction to a serious topic.

  “Of course it matters.”

  “How so? If you won’t even go on a date with me, then what’s the big deal? Its basically the same thing. Maybe you’re the one using me for a fun time until you decide to be done with me—which knowing you, you’ve already decided on.”

  I’m struck speechless at that, because damn it, he does have a point.

  “Not that its any of your business, seeing as you don’t even want to think about a relationship with me and all, but Jenna’s only saying that shit because she’s run out of money. That’s what I was for her…the person who allowed her to focus solely on modeling and not have to worry about working. I funded her trips, paid her bills. And I was a single guy with a hot chick who did whatever I wanted sexually, so of course I did what she wanted.”

  I close my eyes at his words, my heart not wanting to hear about his fucking another girl—or worse, how good she was, but he continues anyway.

  “I was blinded by stupid things that don’t even matter, thinking I was in love.” My lids pop open now, seeing he’s leaning toward me, his voice lowering to a growl. “I don’t love Jenna, and I don’t want Jenna. I want something so much more than what she has to offer. Something I think you might have…”

  I swallow, standing stone cold still, not fully understanding what he means. Afraid if I move, I might miss something that will inevitably clue me in.

  He cups the side of my face, drawing me in for a passionate kiss that quickly escalates to his lifting me up against the tile wall and powering into me, erasing all questions and denials for the time being.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nash

  “I know that vile piece of shit is cheating. I’m not stupid. I just need proof. I want alimony for the embarrassment I have to go through. I have two daughters who need things. I’m sure he’d rather go off on vacation with his mistress when shit hits the fan, than to support his family.”