by Kim Law
His grin was lecherous. “Just don’t plan on getting much sleep.”
She fell one step deeper in love when he reached over and opened the door for her, then turned a serious face to hers. “Thank you,” he said. “For giving us a chance.”
Twenty minutes later, Cody neared Lee Ann’s house, his feet dragging to the point that it almost made him laugh. He was a thirty-two-year-old man about to head inside and make love to the woman he’d never been able to get out of his mind, and he was more nervous now than the first time he’d been with a girl.
But these nerves weren’t about performance anxiety or not knowing what to expect. They were about discussing the past, which he planned to do before they did anything else. He could see the love shining in her eyes. Love, he’d realized tonight as he’d sat across from her, enthralled by every move she’d made, that he felt equally as strongly. And because of that, he needed to share. He needed to let her see the real him if he ever hoped for this to turn into more.
He slipped silently inside the unlocked front door, Boss following at his side.
A light spilled out into the hallway from Lee Ann’s bedroom, and after he got Boss settled in the front room, he glanced into the den where the Christmas tree glowed, white lights twinkling, and found Lee Ann standing there, waiting for him. He lost his breath at the sight.
She may have worn plain cotton under her clothes, but the thin robe that now draped her body did a fantastic job of molding to exactly the right curves. And if he wasn’t mistaken, those curves were now unencumbered.
She stood nervously, her spiky hair looking as if she’d run her fingers repeatedly through it, then she pointed to the couch. “Let’s sit. Talk.”
Surprise registered as he realized she’d picked up on exactly what he had planned. He nodded and entered the room. They settled, both of them on the couch, and he grabbed her feet and tucked them in his lap as he’d done only the night before on her front porch. He knew she wouldn’t think less of him when he was finished telling his story. She was too good a person to think that what happened to him was in any way his fault. But he couldn’t help but worry she’d look at him and see someone different afterward. And he didn’t want her to see the person who sometimes stared back at him in the mirror. The one no one wanted.
The lights on the tree cast the room in a romantic mood of soft light and shadows, but until he got everything off his chest, he had to ignore the ambience.
“You know I’m crazy about you, right?” he said. What a lame way to start. He almost apologized when her legs tensed under his hands, but he stroked a hand over her calves, soothingly, and plowed ahead. “I meant to say that...”
He paused. He actually wanted to tell her that he loved her, but found he couldn’t quite put it out there like that. Something held him back. He switched gears, deciding to start another way.
“My first memory is with a couple whose last name was Franklin. I was four, and they had six other kids at the house, four of them like me. Foster kids. One of the real kids didn’t like me and spent so much time harassing me that they finally had to send me back.”
She scooted in closer and tucked herself against him. He felt himself relax. He dropped his head back to the couch.
“The second family wasn’t much better. They had as many dogs as they had kids, and this time, it was one of the dogs that didn’t like me. The rest of them were great, though. Even at that age I loved animals. I could escape the loneliness by hiding away with them, but every time I was in the same room with this one dog, he would almost take my leg off. Looking back, I suspect he had serious mental issues, because he did some other odd things, but nevertheless he and I didn’t get along.”
“What did they do?”
She asked as if she couldn’t guess. He tucked his chin in and looked down at her. “They gave me back.”
“Oh.”
He put an arm around her and returned to staring at the ceiling. It was easier to think about the past if he couldn’t see the sympathy in her eyes. “By family three, I was six. I started first grade with them. I was actually with them for a couple of years, me and another boy. And then they had a kid of their own.”
Blue eyes looked up at him in question. He nodded.
“Yep, they sent me back. Both of us this time.”
“Cody, I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, nothing to be sorry about. It taught me a good lesson, made me tough. I learned early on not to depend. Not to want too much. It got me through.”
“But it turned you into someone who eventually left the homes yourself, didn’t it? Instead of waiting for them to tell you it was time to go.”
Yeah, he thought. That’s exactly what it had done.
“It had to have been tough,” she nudged when he didn’t answer her question. “Their sending you back. As a kid, I know how much you want someone to love you. How much not having that can mess with your life. Just like...” She stopped abruptly.
He glanced down at her, unsure what had caused her to stop speaking, and then he got it. “Like you wanted your dad to love you enough to come back?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she said but didn’t elaborate.
“Tell me what happened,” he urged. He had more to tell her, but he knew she needed to talk as well. That was the thing about the two of them, they’d always been so in sync with what the other did or did not need that it was scary. “I know he left when you were four.”
She didn’t speak for so long that he began to think he’d been wrong, but then she started, and his heart broke at the sadness in her voice. “He left because of me. I heard him tell Mom that. I’d been crying and throwing a fit about something earlier in the day, and that night I overheard him telling her that he couldn’t take it anymore—screaming kids, everything a mess. He just didn’t want to do it anymore, so he left. There one minute, gone the next. He didn’t even say good-bye. And it was all because of me.”
“Oh, Lee.” Cody scooped her up then and pulled her fully into his lap. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and eyelids, wanting to comfort her, wanting to show her what he couldn’t yet say in words. “It was he who had issues, babe. Not you. Never you.”
One shoulder moved against him as she dipped her head and tucked her face into his neck. “Steph heard him, too. We were listening through the vent and heard everything. That’s why she never quit hating me. I made him leave.”
“No,” he whispered. He closed his other arm around her and held her tight. “It wasn’t you. Never could have been you.”
The way his voice drifted off, Lee Ann knew he’d gone back to thinking about something else in his past. She hadn’t meant to change the subject to herself, but she liked him holding her as she thought about her dad. It somehow made the memories hurt less.
And he was right. Her dad had been the one with the issues. But that didn’t stop a little girl from wondering for years exactly what was wrong with her that someone who was supposed to love her could so easily walk away.
“Finish telling me about you,” she whispered. She liked sitting there with him, and pressed a light kiss to his throat. “I remember you telling me about some of your later foster families one time, and I was struck by the fact that you always left within the first year. I thought you might have overreacted to a few of the situations, as if looking for a reason to blow up and walk out. I see why now—because of the pain of your early years. But I was right, wasn’t I? At some point you started looking for excuses to leave.”
He got the oddest look on his face before shifting his gaze to hers. “I never thought of it like that. I always believed I had perfectly good reasons to leave, but yeah, with years behind me now I can admit that maybe I blew some things out of proportion. I probably could have handled the situations better. You may be right.”
She was pretty sure she was. His telling her about his early years had sealed it. The fact he still traveled from place to place now told her that not a lot had changed. Only this time he had hi
s reasons lined up for leaving before he ever showed up in the first place. That way he didn’t have to come up with one after he got there.
“Tell me about that day, Cody. I need to know what made you do it. What made you hurt me? What made you...” She sighed. Walk away just like my dad.
“Leave you?” he asked. “Aside from the fact that I messed up so bad you wouldn’t want me around anyway?”
She nodded. “You didn’t even stick around long enough to try to give me an excuse. You just left, almost as if relieved. I watched you from my bedroom window. You didn’t look back. You walked out the door, got in your truck and drove away. I thought you’d come back later that day. Call me at least. But then I heard about what you were doing in town, and I knew. I knew before you even got out of town. You were making sure it was bad enough you couldn’t stay. But why? Did you not want to be with me so bad that you’d have to do something like that?”
“No,” he said, his voice heavy. “God, no. I loved you.”
“You didn’t. You couldn’t have. Love doesn’t hurt someone the way you did me.”
“I did. I swear I did.”
She shook her head, the sadness of years of loss filling her up inside. “You broke my heart, Cody. You destroyed me.” And she wasn’t sure she’d survive it if he did it again.
He pressed his lips to her temple and held them there. When he finally pulled back, his expression was grim. “I didn’t like me very much back then. And even less that day. I loved you as much as I could, but maybe it’s not possible to love someone enough if you don’t like yourself at all.”
Her vision blurred as she sat there watching him. He’d never made a habit of lying to her, but she felt as if he’d just been more honest than he’d ever been in his life, maybe even to himself.
“Then tell me what happened.” It was no longer a question.
He paused, closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and locked his gaze on the tree.
“I’d just found papers Roy and Pearl had gotten somehow, about where I came from. I’ve no idea how they had them. Anyway, I found these papers and started reading. For some reason, I’d always had this image that my mother, when I found her, would explain to me that she’d wanted to keep me, but for some reason—money, a teenage pregnancy, whatever—she was forced to give me up. But I would find her, find out she’d regretted her actions and that she was thrilled to finally meet me.”
“And I take it that isn’t what the papers said?”
Cold eyes turned on her, and she could see that he was mentally somewhere else. She wanted to comfort him, yet he needed to get this out, whatever it was. They couldn’t go beyond the physical if he didn’t.
“What I read was that my mother kept me until I was two. And then she gave me away. Not when I’d been born, but after she had me for long enough to find out I wasn’t worth keeping.”
“Oh, Cody.” She wrapped both hands around his face and pulled him close. She didn’t kiss him, just caressed him and held him to her. “Maybe she had a good reason,” she pleaded, not really believing it but wanting it to be true for his sake.
His entire body went rigid, and he once again focused across the room. “The other thing the papers said was that I had a brother, born on the same day. She kept him.”
Lee Ann didn’t respond to his last statement, and he didn’t know what to take from that. Was she horrified? His own mother hadn’t wanted him but had kept another son who was apparently his twin. What in the hell had been so wrong with him?
And why had Lee Ann gone silent?
Finally giving in, he pulled his attention from the tree and shifted to look at her. Tears streaked down her face, leaving faint outlines of mascara tracking from the corners of her eyes.
“Shhhh,” he whispered. He hated seeing her cry. She hadn’t even cried when she’d walked in and caught him with Stephanie. He hugged her tight, rocking with her against the couch and tucking her back into the crook of his neck. She made no sounds, but he felt the heat of her tears as they continued to run. “It’s okay, baby. It was a long time ago.”
She sniffled. “But how could she do that to you?”
“I don’t know. I never did figure it out.”
“You didn’t seek her out then? Not even later after you’d calmed down?”
“What?” He reared back, pulling her out from him a bit at the same time. “Why would I seek her out? I hadn’t been good enough for her once. I sure as hell wasn’t going back for round two.”
“But you have a brother. Didn’t you want to know about him?”
The question made him stop. He tried not to think about that one. “There’s a biological sibling out there, yes. But I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me. There was no need to change that.”
“Except he’s your brother.”
“And you had a sister. Did it make things any better for you?”
She flinched, and he felt mildly sorry about that, but it was the truth.
“She not only didn’t care for you, but she blamed you for everything bad that happened in her life until the day that she died. And then she dumped her kids on you. Kids she’d had with me. On you.” He shook his head. “Siblings aren’t anything special, Lee. They’re just additional people.”
She nodded absentmindedly, then slowly eased back against him. “Maybe you’re right, but I can’t imagine the hole Candy and Kendra would both feel if they didn’t have each other. There’s a special bond there I can only ever dream about.”
“They’re lucky,” he said, and he meant it. He brought a hand up to caress the soft skin of her cheeks, and she snuggled more deeply into him. “They not only have each other but they have you. They’re lucky, Lee. More so than anyone else I’ve ever met.”
“And now they have you.” Her smile was small, but he appreciated the effort.
He nodded. “Now they have me.”
Exhausted from the purging, and with Lee Ann seemingly just as drained, he lifted her in his arms. “Let me put you to bed.”
“No.” Her arm reached out as he rose, grabbing on to nothing but air. “Don’t you dare leave me tonight.”
“You’re worn out. I’m putting you to bed. We’ll have plenty of time later.” Putting her to bed was the last thing he wanted to do, but it didn’t seem like the time for more. Too much had been said between them tonight, and each needed to time to think, to adjust.
He reached her bedroom in a matter of steps and had a moment’s pause when he saw the perfectly folded-down comforter and the crisp white sheets waiting beneath, both glowing in the muted light from the small bedside lamp. Beside the lamp was a clear vase holding a small bundle of fresh flowers. He’d seen similar ones at the local grocery store. The pragmatism of it all was so very typical of the woman in his arms.
Unable to keep the words in any longer, he peered down into her eyes. “I love you, you know. The right way this time.”
A wobbly smile and more tears met his words. “I know. And I love you, too.”
“No matter that you’d rather it be anyone else in the world but me?”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. You have your flaws, but who doesn’t? You’re just as good as I always believed you to be. I couldn’t pick anyone I’d rather love more.”
He was the one who had to fight back the tears then. Without another word, he put a knee on the bed and set her gently in the middle of it. He tucked her bare legs under the turned-back covers, and when he moved to stand up, she reached out and stopped him.
“Lie down with me,” she demanded.
There was no place he’d rather be. He shed the gentlemanly notions he’d had for all of ten seconds, then kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the covers beside her. “You’re exhausted, baby. I’ve already kept you up way past your bedtime, and then I’ve put you through...all this crap.” He kissed her temple and whispered, “You need to sleep.”
“Maybe.” Her eyelids drooped. “But you need to stay right here by m
y side. I’m not letting you run off so easily this time.”
He chuckled, lightness knocking on his heart for the first time he could ever remember. Everything about his life was beginning to feel like it was falling into place. “I’m not running anywhere, babe. It’s you and me. We’ll figure it out together.”
She let out a half laugh–half breath, and then she was asleep. He lay there for several minutes, replaying the conversation they’d just had through his mind and said more than one silent “Thank you” for having fallen in love with such a forgiving sort. Whether he’d found out his mother hadn’t wanted him or not, he still didn’t deserve to be forgiven the way he knew Lee Ann now had. Likely, he could never live up to the goodness that was her, but he had every intention of giving it his best shot.
After several minutes, he rose to turn off the lights on the tree, double-checked the locks on the doors, then returned to the bedroom and clicked off the lamp. He then undid the buttons of his shirt and stripped out of it and removed his belt from his pants. He climbed in beside her. He didn’t want to be too forward, but he sure hoped they woke up in time to do what they hadn’t gotten to tonight.
He may have the occasional gentlemanly tendencies, but he suspected he would have a very hard time following any come morning.
Sunlight slanted through the open blinds, spearing Lee Ann’s eyelids and letting her know she’d slept later than normal. She rolled to her side to check the clock and met Cody’s sleeping face. Oh, yeah. She returned to her back.
The night before came back to her then, and she lay there soaking in the moment. What she hadn’t told him was that she’d already forgiven him before he’d ever shared with her the why behind his actions. Though hearing that the boy who’d spent his life running—the kid who’d simply been trying to find a place to fit in—had found out that even his own mother didn’t want him had cracked her heart in two. There was no way she could have held on to any residual anger after that.
Cody had been messed up when he’d come to town as a seventeen-year-old, and he’d been broken when he’d left. She’d only imagined she could tame him long enough to capture his love. The kind of love that stuck. But if his actions of late were anything to go by, he had finally reached a point in his life where loving him fully might be more than a pipe dream.