by Amy Gregory
“I am not trying to diagnose your son or act like I know everything, so please don’t think that. And Karen will know more by working with him and watching Dallas for a little bit, but I have a younger brother who’s dyslexic, and I have a gut feeling that’s what’s going on here. Now, my brother…he had a really rough road in school until they figured it out, and I don’t think Dallas is that severe. But I did notice some of the same traits and signals when I saw him flip through magazines or when he tried to set up his profile for the video game I bought him.
“If I’m right, there are techniques that will work here that don’t in a classroom full of kids. He’ll love being with Karen. I know she thinks the world of him already, and the woman has the patience of a saint. I mean seriously, she puts up with all us boys on a regular basis.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Working with him one-on-one will provide him with a chance to build up some confidence.”
Relief and questions flooded her mind, at the same time vying for space that blame was taking up. Dyslexia? She’d heard of it, knew it wasn’t anything to fear medically, but could it really be the answer to all of her son’s struggles? Something he could overcome with help? Something his tiny school missed? Had her son fallen through the cracks on her watch?
Eli made it sound so simple, so easy, as if there weren’t any other worries to be concerned about with Dallas’s education. It was as if he held another magic answer in his hand for yet another one of her problems. All she had to do was reach out and accept it.
Damn it, he was stepping in and saving the day—once again. She didn’t like to depend on people. Hell, she liked to think she could handle it all by herself, with no help, especially from a man. Sitting at his kitchen table this morning proved she couldn’t. Her son needed a real teacher who could reach him in ways she couldn’t. Honor blinked multiple times trying to figure out the man in front of her.
Curls that had worked loose from her long ponytail blew in her face in the gentle morning breeze. He tucked them back behind her ear. Without thinking, she reached up and grasped his wrist. She leaned her cheek into his palm wanting the connection, but was petrified of what to do next. Honor didn’t want to have to think about leaving, she didn’t want to have to worry about the what ifs.
He closed the gap like she knew he would, letting the backpack slide off and down to the ground. His arms encircled her, and he tucked her head into the crook of his neck. She felt his palm rub her back soothingly, but there was something in his mannerisms that spoke of something deeper. More than just a simple hug of friendship, understanding, or even just support.
“It’ll be all right, Honor. I’ve got you.”
Honor pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep the panic from making her do something stupid like she’d done earlier.
“We can do this. You just have to trust me.”
Honor wished she could believe him, take his enchanted words and the happily ever after, while riding off on a white unicorn with pretty pastel ribbons tied in its hair. But this wasn’t a fairy tale. Real life was messy, painful, and sometimes, downright ugly. He wasn’t seeing the ugly—the part where they both got hurt and Dallas was crushed.
The problem was he was making it hard for her to not believe him.
His actions, time and time again, were perfect. Not just for her, but for her son, too. Standing in the driveway of the one person he seemed to think could help her son with his schoolwork proved Eli could be counted on, that she could trust him. To know he’d thought about Dallas’s schooling ahead of time, and worked out any kinks should they arise, was just another gesture to add to the list, making it harder and harder not to fall for him.
If there just weren’t so many damn miles between Pennsylvania and Tennessee, she might have a different outlook.
Honor heard footsteps crunching the small pebbles on the slate walkway.
Eli started to pull away, but not before kissing her on the cheek. Leaning in closer to her ear he whispered, “I’ll take care of you, baby.”
His words were one thing, the nip at her earlobe sent a shockwave through her system. Honor hissed as Eli pulled back, and she saw his wicked grin. All she could do was stare at him. She gave an inch, and the damn devil incarnate took more than a damned country mile.
“Hey you two,” James chuckled. “Honor, sweetie, you mind if I steal your guy from you?”
She swallowed hard and damn it all to hell if Eli’s smile didn’t turn even more sinful. The ass knew he had set her on fire. Then James had to go and refer to him as her guy…right in front of Eli.
“Please, before I kill him,” she said teasingly to James, but without breaking eye contact with the ass taking way too much pleasure in her discomfort.
Said ass wiggled his eyebrows at her before she turned and tried to make her way up the walkway toward the French doors off the kitchen. Honor could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. Putting one foot in front of the other, she slowed her breathing down and tried to get the blush to fade before entering Karen’s kitchen. Easier said than done when she could feel his eyes on her the entire way.
As she closed in on the French doors, Karen waved her in to join them at her large farm-styled kitchen table. Her son was already sitting there with a plate of homemade cookies in front of him, a glass of milk, and a huge smile smeared across his face.
Karen reached out toward the backpack Honor carried the rest of the way in. “Well, guys, let’s see what his class is working on, then we’ll go from there.”
Her face wasn’t giving away any clues, and Dallas was on his second cookie when Eli walked in, plopping down in the seat beside Honor. Stealing three cookies from the stack and wiggling his eyebrows at Honor, he offered her one. Rolling her eyes, she accepted it as Karen looked up.
“If you promise to eat dinner for your mom and Eli, you can take that whole plate home with you,” Karen said with a grin, “but can I have you do something for me?”
“Sure.” Dallas nodded enthusiastically, until she continued on. Then his face became overcome with his expression of hopelessness and utter embarrassment. Looking between the textbook and Karen and back, Honor’s heart broke as he lowered his head.
“Honey, it’s okay. Just read a few paragraphs out loud, starting right here.” She pointed to a spot on the page. “I just want to see where to start. There are no wrong answers here. I promise.”
Honor sat still though her insides churned, listening to her son painfully struggle through the paragraph. A couple of times, he figured out the meaning and went back to fix his errors, but she knew it wasn’t because he knew the word, as much as he remembered when they’d worked on that paragraph earlier that morning.
“Okay, now see if this is a little more interesting.” Karen winked as she slid a magazine to Dallas—an older one that had Eli on the cover.
“Where did you come up with that?” He laughed.
“I’ll never reveal my secrets to you boys.”
She opened it to Eli’s article, and although Karen didn’t know it, Honor had read it aloud to him countless times over the years. As she sat close-by, Dallas read it word-for-word. Every number, every letter, every detail—perfectly.
“That’s what I wondered. Son, you’re absolutely the most brilliant child in the whole world.”
Dallas’s eyes went wide, and slowly Honor saw relief wash over him before he glanced to Eli with a smile.
“Can you tell me what you see here?”
With a skeptical eye, he didn’t answer.
“I thought that was probably the case. You’re still amazing and brilliant, and you should be in medical school by now.”
Her son didn’t answer, but his cheeks were turning bright pink.
“Do any of your friends have trouble in school?”
“I don’t really know?”
“That’s okay. I was just wondering if you ever heard anyone complain that maybe sometimes things looked backward or maybe out of order? It can make
trying to read or learn something a lot harder than it has to be. But you know what? It’s really easy to work with it, when that person is as smart as you are.”
Turning to her and Eli, Karen continued on with a nod and a reassuring tug at her mouth. “I believe you’re absolutely right, Eli, but—the other half of the equation is what is so interesting. Dallas, you could very well have a photographic memory. Which makes you a genius in my book—and nothing is going to slow you down one bit. Not even a tiny thing like dyslexia. You’re quite capable of seeing things done and learning hands on. That’s hard for one teacher to do for every subject with a classroom full of students. But, you and I…we’re going to work together, and I’ll teach you some tricks that will make homework a lot easier. Even reading. How’s that sound, honey?”
Honor sat for a long minute watching her son’s face, the lines deepening as he questioned what he’d just heard. Then without any preamble, he was out of his chair, his arms wrapped tightly around Karen, whispering words to her that Honor couldn’t quite make out. Hers weren’t the only eyes to well up with tears—Karen’s matched as she held Dallas close to her chest, patting his back.
She didn’t let loose of her hug as she spoke over Dallas’s shoulder, “I’ve got a friend who is a neuropsychologist. He’s amazing and I’d really like for him to meet with you and Dallas to confirm our suspicions.”
Dabbing her eyes, Honor nodded as Eli pulled her to his side and laid a kiss on her head. He’d done it—again.
****
“All right, Dallas, time for bed.”
“But Mom—”
All it took was a slight raise of her eyebrow and Dallas folded. Eli did his damnedest to hold in the snicker, but one look in his direction and Dallas’s cheeks flashed red.
His shoulders sagged, but Dallas stood, gathering his empty glass off the coffee table before heading to the kitchen.
Eli pointed the remote at the television, turning the channel from rolling movie credits to the country music video channel he knew Honor liked to watch now and then. He liked to make her happy, but it was more of a ploy to keep her from calling it a night.
“It’s been a couple of days, I’m going to go down and tell him goodnight, and double-check that the lower level hasn’t been turned into a wasteland courtesy of hurricane Dallas.” Honor grinned, a light teasing to her voice.
“It’s really okay, Honor. He can’t hurt anything.”
“I know, but…I just want to make sure he respects your property.”
“Honor,”—Eli reached out for her wrist as she stood—“don’t worry about it. I’m not. I promise. Just let him be a kid, and kids…well, they trash bedrooms. It’s just a fact of life. Ask my mother, I think I about pushed her over the edge when I was growing up. And I turned out okay,”—he smirked—“at least I like to think I did. Please, I love having you both here…relax, sweetheart.”
The corner of her mouth tipped, but she shook her head and headed for the staircase.
He knew he’d never convince her. They were in his space, but Honor made every attempt to leave things more immaculate than she’d found them in the first place. It was wasted breath to tell her to relax. Her own home had been spotless when he was there, and she was sweet and an overly respectful person when it came to other’s belongings. But just as she wasn’t going to quit worrying about it, he wasn’t going to quit telling her to consider his home as hers.
She hadn’t returned back to the living room yet so he took the opportunity to stretch his back. Twisting side-to-side, looking for relief, he found none. Giving up, he bent over, resting his forearms on his thighs. With his eyes staring at the colors in the rug below, he released a slow breath.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing. The trick, taught to him by a night nurse in the hospital after his surgery, was a sad attempt at meditating the pain away. However, it would ease the radiating line of fire just enough to make it to the kitchen for medicine. Without sitting up, he arched his back, grunting as the mistake sent a thousand pinpricks across his left side.
He felt the soft skin of her gentle hand rub his arm.
“Eli,” she whispered. “Would it hurt too bad to lay flat on the floor?”
Squinting at her, he saw not only worry, but fear in the eyes of the woman kneeling between him and the coffee table. Her other hand held his much needed ibuprofen from the cabinet he was trying to get to, along with a small glass of water on the table.
Shit.
The woman could be so stealthy. Probably years of motherhood added to the quiet grace of ballet. Eli hadn’t meant for her to see. He hadn’t wanted her to worry any more than he knew she already did.
Her hand rested delicately on his forearm, but she was still, almost as if she was afraid to move. Her head tilted as she silently waited for his answer. Eli ran a palm across her cheek, cradling her neck with his hand. She tried to smile, but he could tell it was forced for his sake, and it never made it to her eyes. The deep purple still held too much concern.
“I’m okay.”
“No…you’re not. What can I do?”
“Just being here helps. And you always seem to know when I need that.” He tipped his head at the bottle she held in her hand.
“Do you think you can lie down, or would it hurt too badly? I don’t want to make it worse.”
The floors throughout the house were wood, with area rugs used to warm the space. He followed her eyes to the thicker and much softer rug near the fireplace.
“I could rub your back for you. I mean, well, if you want?”
“Honey, you don’t have to do that.”
Squeezing the safety cap of the bottle, she shook out the round pills into her palm. With a timid smile, she glanced back up at him. Eli watched her bite her lip, and as she dropped the pills in his outstretched hand, it appeared as if she was searching for the right words.
“I…want to do something to help. I need to.” Her eyes back on the pills in his hand, she hesitated before making eye-contact again. “You’ve done so much, Eli. It’s the least I can do.”
He could take her needing to help him out of love, but not the guilt that she still apparently felt. Eli took the medicine and handed the glass of water back to her. After she placed it back on the table, he took her face in his hands.
“Sweetheart, you have to quit thinking that you owe me anything. You don’t…you never have and you never will.” He leaned toward her and fire shot down his spine. Laying his lips against her forehead, he gave her a soft kiss before giving in and mumbled. “Please. I’d appreciate it.”
With a timid, innocent touch, she reached for the hem of his shirt, the move leaving them close enough for him to feel the warmth of her cheek against his. She took her time helping him remove the t-shirt, and he greatly appreciated her tenderness, knowing she was trying to not cause any more sharp spikes. But as the cotton eased over his face, Eli caught the wide-eyed stare she had focused on his chest before she rushed to stand, laying the shirt over the arm of the couch.
“I know Molly said you’ve told her no, and I don’t want to step where I shouldn’t, but would you…um, let me help? Maybe we could find someone…just so you don’t hurt so badly?”
The pain that now haunted her eyes tore at his heart, and he found it much harder to turn her down than Molly’s countless attempts. Eli broke away from her gaze and nuzzled his face against her outstretched arm, soaking up the feel of her soft skin, and inhaling the sweet smell of her perfume. He didn’t answer—but he didn’t tell her no.
Standing, he took her hand and let her guide him to the rug, easing himself to the floor. He stretched out on his stomach while she waited. The first touch of her gentle fingers against his skin caused him to suck in a sharp breath, but not because of the pain in his back. Then her hands slipped him into a trance. She appeared to be reading winces, grunts, and his breathing, paying special attention to where it hurt the most, and where she needed to lighten her touch.
&n
bsp; Eli had no idea how much time passed. Her fingers kneaded here, swept gently across his skin there, and it felt amazing until she shifted and he felt her bent knees on either side of his ass as she straddled him.
Oh my God.
Out of sheer force, he willed himself not to show any outward surprise. That didn’t mean his heart rate hadn’t just skyrocketed, though. Her hands never stopped, rubbing up and down his spine, massaging the muscles in his shoulders. Apparently, she didn’t think anything of her position—at least not what he was thinking.
It worked wonders.
The pain that rolled from his back and into his hip before was nothing compared to the pain now in his pants. Not able to see her firsthand, the mental picture he created, of Honor on top of him, was quite erotic, although he wished he wasn’t the only one with only half their clothes on.
Wrong move. He needed to quit picturing her long auburn curls against her ivory skin. He needed to quit picturing her in general. Hell, he needed to quit thinking period. The hard-on he was now suffering from was getting worse with every stroke of her fingertips across his skin.
Testing himself, he moved subtly under her, waiting for the rush of needles to stab him. They didn’t come. The woman was an angel…his angel.
In one fluid motion, Eli rolled over, grasping for her hips to hold her in place. She lost her balance, falling forward, bracing herself with her hands, and her eyes open wide. This was exactly where he wanted her, on top of him, her mouth mere inches from his own. Well, maybe not exactly there. He’d rather have her in his bed without her clothes on. Even through the denim, the heat from her legs was scorching.
Honor gasped at the shock, but made no other sound—or move.
Their bodies were lined up perfectly, and judging by the quick breaths he felt across his skin, she felt the effect she’d had on him. He was going to be damn lucky if he didn’t end up with a permanent zipper indention, proof of how well Levi’s were made, for sure. Being afraid to move didn’t mean anything to his body, though, and Honor’s eyes went wide with every involuntary twitch, letting him know she’d felt it too.