“They’re going to want a psych consult anyway. I’ll come and ask Dr. Batchelor if she’s available to come too. Introduce her and schedule her sessions.” She sniffs, and her voice lowers. “I’m really sorry, Nick. I wish I could do more. No, I will do more. I like Honor very much, and if the fear in your voice is any indication, you do too. Which means I’ll likely be seeing her more often in a social capacity.”
I grit my teeth. “Count on it. And one more thing. What’s the deal with her mother?” I remember back to the short conversation we had about her mother telling her what to do, who to date, and that she was a lousy daughter. A loving mother wouldn’t do that. She might attempt to set you up on dates with her friends’ kids or prod you about your love life and having babies, but not once has my mother ever talked down to me like I was an awful child or horrible human being. “I get the feeling that some of this shit burning up inside of her has to do with her relationship with her parents. Especially her mother.”
“Nick…” she warns. “I can’t discuss this with you.”
Hot, blazing anger bubbles up and prickles along the surface of my skin. “Fine.” I grate through my teeth. “Just tell me, is it bad?”
“Nick.” The sadness in the way she says my name says it all.
“It’s bad. Is she more than verbally violent toward Honor?”
“You know I can’t…” Her voice cracks, and I can hear how torn she is.
I close my eyes, press my hand to the wall, and drop my head down in front of me. “I need to know if I should be calling her family, letting them in on what’s going on.”
“Absolutely not.” Monet’s reply is firm and resolute. Heat swarms over my body as the knowledge that my girl has been hurt beyond a mere tongue-lashing burrows in. The sensation settles inside my gut and twists and turns like a tilt-a-whirl.
“Moe, did her mother lay a hand on her?”
“Please stop.” Monet is crying over the line, likely warring with her ethics and her desire to protect her patient and help her friend.
“Fuck.” The woman puts her hands on her. “Her father?” I growl, barely able to function as this news sinks in.
“Nick, I don’t know,” she whispers, all hope gone from her voice. Which means she really doesn’t know. They probably haven’t talked about him yet, or maybe he’s a good guy. Only time will tell.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Monet clears her throat. “Yeah, okay.”
I punch the off button and lean my forehead on the cool plaster. Her mother is verbally and physically abusive. Her father is an unknown.
“Nick?” Honor calls out from the room behind me.
I take the few steps needed to enter. “Hey, Dove, I’m here.”
Her lips tremble. “I thought you’d left me.”
“No, babe. Not going to leave you. Just making a phone call and didn’t want to disrupt your sleep.”
She nods and twiddles her fingers. “Has Sean been in, mentioned when I could go back to the hotel?”
Hotel, not home.
“Shit. You haven’t found a place yet, have you?”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay. All the things I want and need are at the hotel. One of mine.”
“Where were you living before, and what do you mean one of yours?”
Honor shrugs in that nonchalant way that is an attempt to change the subject. Not gonna happen. I’m not letting her off the hook on anything anymore.
I wait patiently until the silence becomes uncomfortable.
“I was living with my parents before…uh…well, just before.” She picks up a lock of her wavy blond hair and runs her fingers over the strands in a repetitive nervous gesture. “You know Zero Tower?”
“That swank hotel downtown? Shit, that costs like eight or nine hundred a night?”
Her forehead crinkles. “Is it that much? I’ll have to talk to my people. That seems exorbitant.”
This time I’m the one crinkling my forehead in confusion. “Your people?”
“I own that hotel and a few others. I’m currently living in one of the four penthouses.”
I tip my head back and look up at the ceiling. “You’re living in a hotel.”
“It’s what I have.” Her voice cracks, and she looks away.
That’s not where you go to heal. She needs a home. A place where someone can dote on her, bring her soup and lasagna. “You’re not going back there.”
She bites her lip and looks down at her lap. “I don’t have anywhere else. I can’t go back to my parents’ estate. I just… I can’t do it, Nick.” With the way she’s twisting her fingers and tightening her hands, I’m able to read between the lines. She’s afraid.
“Fuck that. You’re coming home with me.”
She lifts her head and her eyes light up. “Really? You’d want me there?” The happiness that pinks her cheeks is something I want to see every day of my freakin’ life. My heart races, and I come to her side, curl a hand into her hair, and hold her against me at her nape.
“Yeah, babe. I want you to come home with me. Let me take care of you. Plus, my work is right under my apartment. I’m not scheduled for another class at Lotus for the next three days. And even if we need more time, Gracie can sub for me.”
She looks back down at her lap, and I tilt her chin with my thumb.
“You’re too good to me.” Tears fill her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall.
I tap both of her lips with my thumb, wanting to kiss away her sorrow. “Not possible. Besides, I want you in my home and between my sheets. I think I’m the lucky one in this scenario.” I offer a sexy grin in order to get her mind off the potential downside of suddenly sharing space with one another. I’ve never done that with a woman before, but for some reason, with Honor, I’m not scared or nervous. Right now, it just feels right.
Honor offers one of her beatific smiles, and I swear it mends a crack in my heart. Yep, healing her is going to heal me. She’s what I need. I send up a prayer to the big fella upstairs that I’m man enough to take care of her, to get her through this rough patch and out the other side.
After Moe and her doctor friend get here and we settle up with the doctor about her being discharged, I’m going to call for reinforcements. When my ma finds out my girl is hurt, she’s going to be all over bringing food and pampering her, and she hasn’t even met her. That’s what a good mother does and what Honor deserves. If she’s not getting it from her mother, my mother will be all over it. Not to mention Grace, Dawn, Angela, Cara—even Faith will want in on the action.
Honor Carmichael is about to experience the full Salerno effect far sooner than she thought.
* * *
The apartment is dark when I unlock the door and gesture her inside. One of the hotel staff packed up her belongings from the hotel room and met us at the gym.
“Go ahead and get settled on the couch, and I’ll bring in your suitcases.”
She nods but doesn’t speak. Ever since Moe came to the hospital, apologized for whatever happened between them, and introduced Honor to Dr. Batchelor, she’s been quiet. Contemplative. I didn’t leave the room when she spoke with them, and my girl didn’t ask me to. If I’m going to help her, I need to be there for her at all times. I held her hand as the good doctor spoke calmly, confirmed that Honor didn’t actually intend to take her life. Her sessions have been bumped up to twice a week, and she’s now got a weekly lunch date with Monet.
I’ve never been a bigger fan of Monet than when she held Honor’s hand, told her that it wouldn’t be right for her to be her doctor, and that instead she wanted to be her friend. Then she asked her to lunch for later this week. Honor seemed to be surprised that Moe wanted to spend social time with her but happily accepted the date. They hugged, cried, and then Dr. Batchelor set up a regular weekly schedule right onsite.
I drag the suitcases and a couple shoulder bags up the stairs and directly into my bedroom. The apartment is rather large since it runs the entire span of
the top of the gym, but it still only has one walled-in bedroom and bathroom. The rest is completely open, almost like a loft. The kitchen needs work—the white cabinets are old and beaten up, but the appliances I scored from the former owner were new. That was a plus. Especially the stove. I love to cook, and the oven and range are pretty stellar.
Right then my stomach growls, and I realize I should probably cook us something to eat.
I enter the living space, and Honor is leaning against the arm of the couch, a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes are closed, and her head is resting on her knees.
“Hey, Dove, you want to stretch out, take a nap while I fix us something to eat? You hungry?”
Her eyes open lazily. “I like your home.”
Home. There’s that word again. I wouldn’t consider my bachelor pad a home, but it’s comfortable and suits me well enough.
“Yeah? What do you like about it?” I want her talking, not spending too much time escaping into herself.
“You can put your feet up on the couch and cuddle in.”
“Well, yeah, that’s what couches are for.” I chuckle.
Her lips purse. “You have pictures of your family in frames all over the place. Shows that you’re loved.”
I glance around and note the cluster of family photos on one wall. “Ma brought those pictures and hung them there.” Checking out the room, I glance at several other framed pictures of my sisters, the Lotus House gang, Mila and her family of three. “The rest are images people gave me. So I kind of cheated in my decorating prowess. Most of the furniture was my sister Dawn’s. When she and her husband bought a new home, they gave me their hand-me-downs. It was ideal at the time because I’d just bought this place. Eventually, when I buy my own house and settle down with a woman, we’ll get things together. I figure that’s the way it should go, yeah?”
No response there, just a shrug.
“You like grilled cheese?” I ask, and a smile forms on her lips.
“Very much, though I haven’t had it in ages.”
I grin and head into the kitchen to prep and get her a glass of water. “Let me guess. Since college?”
She smiles softly and stands, clutching the blanket around her shoulders. “Yeah,” she whispers. “My family isn’t big on comfort foods.”
I raid the pantry and pull out some bread and then open the fridge, where I find a thick block of cheddar cheese and butter. Once I’ve got the goods on the table, I pull down some glasses, pour her some water, and bring it to her. “What kind of meals did you grow up with?” I ask conversationally.
“Uh, whatever our chef made. Not something a child would normally eat, that’s for sure, but Hannon and I got used to it. On a particular gourmet meal evening, we’d sneak down after our parents went to bed and raid the fridge. Usually Chef would leave us premade peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cheese and crackers. That kind of thing. He knew we didn’t want to eat rich, five-star meals but our mother and father wouldn’t have it any other way. They considered it training for our future.”
Her story makes me sigh long and hard from deep within my chest. “You haven’t had it easy.”
She huffs. “On the contrary. Some would venture that I’ve had it very easy. Rich family, expensive education and clothing. What more could I want?”
“All of that doesn’t make your life easy, Honor. Money doesn’t solve the heart’s problems. Besides, all the money in the world can’t replace the loss of your brother.”
Honor looks down at the counter and runs her finger along one of the grout lines in the tile. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Will you tell me about him?” I genuinely want to know about the man who has such an emotional effect on my woman’s life.
Her head shoots up. “You want to know about Hannon?”
“Was he important to you?”
“The most important person in my life.”
I smirk. “Okay, then. I’d like to know about him.” I take a few steps to a drawer and pull out the cheese slicer. “What was he like?”
Honor braces her elbows on the counter and rests her chin in her hands. “He was amazing. Everything I’m not. Funny, extroverted, and he loved life. He never took a moment for granted. Then he met Sean, you know, Dr. Tillman.”
I nod, encouraging her to continue.
“Our lives finally started to make sense. I was in my master’s program for business. Hannon started working for my father right after his bachelor’s.”
Grabbing the butter, I slather one side of each slice with a thick, creamy layer before setting the two sides on the griddle next to the stove.
“Did he like working for your dad?”
“Actually, yes. Hannon was an overachiever. He excelled in everything he did and always found a way to have fun doing it.”
I slice several pieces of cheese and arrange them on the bread. “And what was the age difference between the two of you?”
“He was my twin.”
I was not prepared for her answer. Those four words slam into my heart like a sucker punch to the chest. I drop the tops of the bread on one another and turn the knob to get the griddle hot. “Aw hell, Dove, I didn’t know that. Fuck. Fuck!” The sorrow ripples off her in waves, slamming into me, and I imagine losing Dawn. We’re a year apart, and that would gut me. I walk over to my girl, turn her on the stool, push her knees apart so I can fit my body in between, and wrap her in my embrace. “I’m sorry. Fucking sucks you lost the closest person to you. But I’m proud of you for being strong.”
She clutches at my back. “I don’t feel strong,” she whispers against my chest, holding me tightly.
“I know. But one day soon, you will be, and I’ll be standing right there with you, holding your hand.”
She lifts her head and rests her chin against my chest. “Thank you for bringing me here. You didn’t have to, but I’m grateful.”
I kiss her on the forehead and then briefly on the lips. There’s a hint of her mint and vanilla taste clinging to her mouth, making me want to kiss her more fully, but now’s not the time. She needs to feel safe and protected. Not groped and taken advantage of.
I hear the sizzle of the bread, turn, and groan. “Shit!” I flip the bread over, and though it’s a little darker than I’d like, it’s still edible. “Whew!” I wipe my forehead. “Close call.”
She chuckles, and it’s music to my ears.
For a few more minutes, we chat about the gym and the yoga studio while we eat, and I give her the rundown on my family. Mostly all the overbearing but well-meaning women. Once done, I grab her hand and lead her over to the big leather couch. I sit down at one end, hold out my arm, and pat the space in front of me between my legs.
Honor hesitates, putting her finger up to her mouth.
“Come on, Dove…I won’t bite. Much.” I grin and waggle my eyebrows.
She rolls her eyes and gets settled, her back and side mostly against my chest, her head cocked to my chest.
“Nick, I’m, um, not sure it’s a good idea that I go on Sunday.” She glances down at her bandaged wrist and hand and then back to me. She’s referring to dinner at my folks’. My family was expecting to meet the woman I’ve been hiding. Grace has already spilled the beans about Honor, and Ma’s losing her mind that she hasn’t met her yet.
I shake my head and cuddle her closer. “Babe, they are not going to judge you. No one’s walked a mile in your shoes. They are not perfect, nor do they claim to be.”
“And I’m not Italian.”
“Now that we’re going to fib on,” I respond flatly.
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Really.” I chuckle. “It’s just easier.”
She nods and rests her head against me. “It’s so peaceful here.”
“It can be. The building has good insulation, so even during the day, you can’t hear the gym downstairs. Speaking of the gym, did you want to rest here tomorrow or come down?”
I tug her against me harder, give one shameless thrust against her, and growl into her ear. “Ignore it. When you’re around, it has a mind of its own.”
“But if you need something…” she starts to offer, but I shut it down flat.
“No. No way, no how, is our first time together going to be the night you come home from the hospital. Now tomorrow, all bets are off.” I grin and nip along her jawline until I get to her mouth, where I take her lips in a lush, wet kiss. She opens for me instantly, swiping her tongue against mine and moaning deeply. I tunnel my fingers through her hair and shift her weight and legs, bringing her to a straddling position, and then pull my lips from hers.
“I want you, Nick. So much.” She gasps.
I softly head-butt her forehead with mine. “And I want you. More than anything. I want to bury myself so deep inside you I get lost in all that’s you.”
She moans and curls her fingers into my hair.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t play a little though, now does it?” I waggle my eyebrows and focus on her beautiful face and slender neck, thinking about where I’m going to kiss and bite her skin first.
Her response is to rock her hips against my cock in a grinding, devious motion. “Like this?” she whispers against my lips and mewls when she presses her body hard against mine.
“Fuck yeah.” I grab a handful of ass and roll my hips until her eyes close and her mouth opens on a gasp.
Her slim hips switch from a series of circular motions to grinding back and forth along my cock. I can just imagine my length between her puffy pink lips, making me hard as a rock.
“You feel so good sitting on top of me, dragging your body over my cock.” I kiss a line down her neck. “But I need a small taste.”
She nods and sighs while I get to work on the buttons down the front of her shirt. I get them undone and praise the good Lord above that her bra clasp is in front. It’s like she wore it just for me. Which she likely did not, but a guy can dream.
Silent Sins: A Lotus House Novel: Book Five Page 18