Without Words
Page 7
I turned to meet Rob’s eyes. His mouth opened in a sympathetic smile.
“Yeah, well, it kind of went downhill from there. Mom had Amy, married Bill, who had a steady and lucrative gig making meth in a trailer out in El Centro, and promptly got knocked up again. She shouldn’t have stayed with him—she wasn’t an addict. But she had some fucked-up idea that all girls needed a daddy, since she grew up without hers. So she helped him grow his business, doing some selling, making some deals.
“Amy and I were lucky she had us with her when he blew himself up in the trailer. And that was when Mom got arrested and we went into the system.” My first example of men not giving a shit. His crappy career choices had left her alone to handle the fallout.
“I’m sorry,” Rob said, his voice quiet.
“Nah, don’t be. I mean—they weren’t good people.” I stopped pulling grout and turned to face him. It was my turn to appreciate the view. He was reaching out in front of him, every muscle in his arms and back bunching and moving as he pulled the grout toward his knees. Through the T-shirt hugging his broad back, I could make out the solid V of his torso, and watching the tattoos move as his muscles worked was mesmerizing. I wondered if the pattern continued up his shoulder, down his back…
He sat up abruptly, turned to catch me staring.
I snapped my jaw shut. I’d been gaping. I gave him a quick smile and turned back to my own corner of the room, heat flushing my face. Smooth move. Friends, I reminded myself. Just friends. Remember Ben. Just the thought of my ex was enough to get my head back on straight. Life-wrecking humiliation will do that to you.
“Anyway,” I chuckled, “that’s pretty much it.”
“But you said there was a relative…?” I could feel Rob’s gaze on me, but it was hard to face him. I didn’t remember much about my parents, but I remembered the foster family I was placed with. And even though they were good people, I hated that Nan took so long to find me.
“Yeah, Nan, my mom’s mother. But she and Mom weren’t speaking for the year before Amy was born. Nan didn’t even know we existed until Mom went to prison. And then she had to fight to get custody of us because Mom didn’t want her to take us. Mom had some misguided belief that she’d get out, take us back, and we’d all be a happy family.”
“How long did it take?”
“Two years.” I took a deep breath. “We got separated. Amy was seven and I was five when we went into foster care.” I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. These were the years I wished I could take back somehow. “The family who took me tried to treat me well.”
There was a heavy silence between us.
“But Amy’s didn’t.” Rob already knew. His voice was a pained whisper.
I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing it was pointless to be upset. I’d been upset about this my whole life. “Amy’s didn’t,” I confirmed.
“But your grandmother?” he prompted.
I turned back to him, a smile finding my face naturally as I thought of Nan. “Nan saved us. She fought until she got us both back. It took my mother dying in prison for them to let her have us.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. I barely remembered her. I knew I should feel sad that she’d died in such a horrible place, so young, but I couldn’t conjure up much sympathy for her. “Nan was the one who raised us, really. She gave us a home, she taught us how to be good people, how to be a family. She loved us.”
“And your grandfather?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Never knew him. Nan didn’t talk about him. He left her at some point…” My voice trailed off as I thought about the way Nan’s eyes welled up when we asked about Granddad as kids. By the time we were teenagers, we knew better. He’d gone, broken Nan’s heart. It turned out that my bad luck with men began in the womb. It was genetic.
“And Nan?” he asked.
I wasn’t going to cry. Nan made us promise not to be sad when she died, a ridiculous promise because I missed her every day. Everything I was, I owed to my grandmother. She had looked past every fault, every harsh word, every tantrum. She had picked up the pieces of my sister and held them together until Amy was strong enough to hold them herself. She’d reunited us and made us a family, and given me back my big sister—the one person who would always look out for me. She’d taught us about love, and tragedy, and how to survive both. “She’s gone,” I confirmed, seeing Nan’s sparkling blue eyes and gentle smile in my mind.
“I’m sorry.” Rob said.
I let his sympathy settle over me, sadness lingering.
We worked in silence for a long time after that, grouting most of the main room of the shop. When we got to the final corner, I stepped into the open doorway as Rob finished up. I watched him clean grout from the last few tiles, trying not to leer and mostly failing. He picked up his bucket and joined me in the doorway, looking back in over our work.
“Pretty good,” he said, knocking into my shoulder with his own. His tattoos caught my eye again, the intricate ink lacing and swooping around his arm.
“I like this tattoo,” I told him, tracing one finger along the prominent line in the middle.
He watched my finger move for a minute, some deep sadness behind the green eyes. “From another life,” he said. “When I thought I was invincible.”
Something moved around between us, filling the air with warmth, making my stomach leap and dance. I left my fingers on his arm a beat longer and then pulled them back quickly, suddenly embarrassed.
Sampson chuffed and pushed his big head between our hips. He looked up at us as if he knew we had finished working and now he was ready for some attention. It broke whatever spell had woven around us, and we both laughed as the big dog shoved his way into the moment.
“Okay, boy,” Rob said. “I need to get him a walk. This should set tonight anyway.”
He said it like there was no question he’d be back, and I was reassured and nervous at once. My stomach was jumping and tingling like I’d eaten a couple of packages of Pop Rocks. I didn’t want to be as happy about the thought of seeing him again as I was.
I couldn’t help the big smile plastered on my face. I just wished everything with the shop would go faster. I wanted it to be ready, to be open.
Without asking permission to join him, I locked up the shop and walked toward the beach at his side, Sampson pulling ahead of us on the leash.
Chapter Nine
Rob
Dani kept pace with us as Sampson and I walked out toward the beach, and I told myself not to question it. There was something comfortable between us. It made sense in some fucked-up way. Maybe two people with enough crap in their pasts could fill each other’s voids. Or maybe she just had nothing else to do.
Loneliness and Sampson had been my only reliable company for so long that I’d stopped expecting anyone else to be around—except maybe Trent. I definitely didn’t expect Dani to stay long. At the same time, I wasn’t going to ruin this—whatever this was—by thinking too much about it.
There was no question I was attracted to Dani. She was curvy and tight in all the right places, that perfect pale skin glowing and smooth. Her eyes did something to me, too, made my skin feel like it was catching fire, made my chest tight.
And her laugh made me feel connected to every happy moment I’d ever had, it was like a door opening on pure sunlight. But I could have ignored all of that.
What got me was something harder to put my finger on. She made me feel different, clearer and calmer. She was clarity, free and unrestrained, like she didn’t have a care in the world, like she’d never known an ounce of pain. But clearly she had. And when I was with her, things seemed easier. I was finding that around Dani, I could think straight. I could just be.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted her close because she calmed me, or because I wanted to learn her secret. How did you grow past something so painful? So life-changing? She had done it. She lived. She breathed. She was joyful—even though she’d
started from so much pain.
Even if this couldn’t last, I told myself to just be in the moment, to enjoy today and try not to worry about when she turned away. Because that was almost inevitable. She had focus and a dream, and I had…nothing to offer.
“Knows where he’s going, doesn’t he?” Dani’s voice broke my darkening thoughts.
I nodded.
Sampson pulled out ahead of us, trying his best to detach my arm from the socket. I jogged a bit to keep up with him and turned him off the leash once we were on the beach. With the marine layer hugging the coast, not many tourists were around. Sampson wouldn’t bother them, anyway.
Dani and I stood shoulder to shoulder, watching Sampson play at the edge of the water, a comfortable silence between us. Dani laughed as she watched him, and I almost envied Sampson. I wasn’t much good at making girls laugh at this point. After a while, Dani sat down, pulling her knees into her chest. I sank down at her side and Sampson came to run circles around us before returning to the water.
“I love this beach,” she said. “I’ve always hoped my shop would be in Ocean Beach.”
My mind was so busy trying to decide at what point Dani would be leaving, I couldn’t find words. The nod was my new signature move.
“Amy doesn’t understand it,” she continued. “But there’s just something real about this neighborhood. Even that little shack out on the pier. There’s no pretense here. None of the plastic people from farther north, none of the rich kids pretending to be surf rats.”
Sampson chose that moment to push his way between us, nosing us each under our chins as he waggled into the sand, pressing his wet fur against us.
“What’s your plan, Rob?” Dani’s hand was in Sampson’s ruff as she talked, turning to look at me. Lucky dog.
My head swiveled. That was the question, wasn’t it? What was my plan? Fuck if I knew. Get through each day and see what the next one brings. “I don’t know,” I answered, wishing she hadn’t asked. I didn’t like thinking that even Dani was wondering when my dead-end path might make a turn. When would I become a productive member of society again? I tried to spin an answer in my mind, suddenly caring what this girl thought. Wishing I could offer her something, but knowing there was nothing to keep her near me. Nothing to build on.
“With the tile, I mean. How long does grout have to set? A couple of hours? Or like, all night?” She pouted, her nose scrunching adorably.
Relief swept through me. She meant now. What was my plan for right now. With the tile. That I could handle. It didn’t change things, but it took the pressure off this very moment, at least. “A few hours. It’s late, so overnight.”
Her shoulders sagged and she looked so disappointed I began trying to figure out how to make the grout set faster. God, this girl had me trying to figure out how to change the laws of nature.
“Wanna go out to the end of the pier?” Dani asked, turning to fix me with her bright blue stare. She got over disappointment fast.
“Sure,” I answered before my mind kicked in with its doom and gloom, warning me that the more time I spent with her would just make this harder to lose. I got to my feet and offered my hand over Sampson’s shaggy head. She took it and pulled herself up. I watched her hand in mine. The contrast of her light skin in mine. I tried not to let her touch affect me, but it was pointless. My nerves stood on end, tingling, anticipating.
“Come on, Sampson,” she said, picking up the leash.
“He’ll pull your arm off,” I warned her, taking my hand back from hers before my body took over and I tackled her to the beach.
But Sampson didn’t pull. When I walked Sampson, he practically dragged me everywhere. But next to Dani, he acted like he’d graduated at the top of his class in obedience school.
“He’s fine,” she said. “He’s a good boy.” Sampson shot me a look that told me he knew how to kiss up to a pretty girl better than I did.
“He likes you,” I said, wishing I could say more. Wishing I could say, I do, too. It was risky enough for me just trying to say what was needed to get along. Adding anything to that was more than I could handle, and I’d already said more to Dani today than I’d said to anyone in a year. I was waiting for the inevitable mood shift to come, for my brain to spool up as my thoughts overwhelmed me, but so far, being with Dani had kept me calm.
I didn’t trust it, but I’d take it.
We stepped up onto the big pier and headed toward the end, where the Pacific was dark and deep, rushing around pilings that had stood strong through years of stormy tumult and watery onslaught.
She turned to me, and I thought she was going to ask a question, but her attention shifted back to the pier. “This is my favorite place,” she said. “I try to walk it at least once a day.”
The sun had dropped just below the gathered grey on the horizon, shining out over the water through the thin slice of blue sky that hugged the top of the water. Rays gleamed orange and yellow, reflecting off the clouds and the water.
We passed the little bait and snack shop and stopped at the end of the pier, resting our hands on the thick railing, both of us looking down instinctively. The water glowed from the reflected sun, but it looked dark and dangerous beneath the gilded surface. Sampson plopped down in a pile at Dani’s feet, sighing his content.
We stood silent for long moments, staring into the dark water. Something in me was reaching for her, but I swallowed it down, mentally gluing my hands to the railing. It was a rare thing for me, to find someone willing to just be with me. I wasn’t going to fuck it up by doing what my body was screaming at me to do. Turn to her. Take her in my arms. Press my mouth to hers. Drop to the pier and… Well, I wouldn’t do that. Though I’d like to.
“Hey,” Dani said, and my mind snapped back to the present. Out of the danger zone.
I tried not to think too hard about anything. About what I wanted. About what I couldn’t have. About when she would walk away. What it would feel like to be away from her sunny gaze, her glowing halo.
Her eyes were cloudy and dark, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought she was about to…
Kiss.
Me.
Fuck.
My body took over. I couldn’t have stopped it at that point if I’d wanted to. I leaned in and met her halfway, our mouths touching softly. Her lips were silken and smooth beneath mine, and the second we touched, the fire that had been glowing since I’d met her blazed into a screaming fury. I pulled her body into mine, one hand around the small of her back, the other digging into her hair. That wild hair. It was every bit as soft as I’d known it would be.
She molded her body against me, every one of her curves finding a part of my body to push, to tempt, to melt. I let my hands roam over her perfect hips, feel the solidity of her back. Her breasts crushed against my chest as my tongue met hers, and a tiny moan escaped from somewhere in her throat as I pulled her bottom lip into my mouth.
She wrapped her arms around my body, running her hands over my back as her hip pressed tight against my dick. When she slipped one of her hands down to my ass, I pressed harder into her, unable to stop myself, and she rubbed against me.
God, she’s perfect.
The kiss, her body.
The fact that I hadn’t been near a woman in over a year didn’t help. But I had no doubt Dani would have felt every bit as incredible if I had met her before the accident. Girls like this didn’t come along every day, and while she was in my arms, it actually felt like I might be able to keep her.
And then she stepped back.
“God, Rob, I’m so sorry.” She frowned and covered her eyes with one hand. She wouldn’t look at me.
I shook my head, certain my confusion was clear on my face. “No.” There was supposed to be more to follow that, but one word was all I managed. My mind swam, soaked in an overwhelming desire for her.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I mean, we’re working together, and then I go and do this? I seriously suck with men, I’
m so sorry.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and as the sun dropped beneath the distant watery horizon, I felt a familiar darkness return to my mind.
“It’s fine,” I managed, turning away from her to adjust myself. My dick didn’t seem to get the memo.
It was a mistake. She already regretted it.
We didn’t say anything else, we just turned and walked in silence back to the foot of the pier at Newport Avenue. The streetlights had come on, and Dani looked almost ethereal as I tried to apologize, feeling like I had to say something.
“I’m sorry,” I managed. “I didn’t…”
“No,” she said, handing me Sampson’s leash. “You have nothing to apologize for. I got carried away. It was just such a good day. It was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”
I hoped my face didn’t telegraph my pain when she acknowledged aloud she’d made a mistake in kissing me. I’d known it. But hearing it out loud was still unbearable. What the hell had I expected?
She was already walking quickly back toward her car parked outside the shop. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked over her shoulder.
I nodded, but I couldn’t decide if it made any sense to go back.
More to the point, I didn’t know if I could handle being near her now that I’d held her in my arms. I wasn’t a masochist. And clearly, neither was she.
She obviously realized I came with a shitload of issues she didn’t need to take on. So we were attracted to each other.
But she had kissed me. Hadn’t she?
It didn’t fucking matter. She’d probably realized mid-kiss that she was kissing a frog. I wasn’t going to magically turn into a well-spoken rich prince. Or even a decent stand-in for a normal guy.
I walked home slowly, letting Sampson pull me along as usual. I would go back to the shop tomorrow because she needed the help and I needed to honor a commitment. I would finish the floor and then make myself a distant memory. I didn’t trust myself around her, and I didn’t need any additional confusion.