by Elle Keating
“But how could she get away with not sending her children to school? There are truancy laws in our country. Didn’t the school intervene? Send out a social worker? A truancy officer? Someone to investigate why three little boys weren’t attending school?”
“No, the school didn’t intervene.” Luke’s eyes narrowed. He looked uncomfortable, but not enough to change the subject. “But not because they were negligent.”
Negligent her ass. The schools had a responsibility to make sure that the children of their community were being educated. “Then why?”
“They weren’t negligent because they had no idea we even existed. Not many people did. A few neighbors in our apartment building, my mother’s…boyfriends, they knew we lived there, but they didn’t care enough to expose us. In that town, or at least in that apartment building, people looked the other way. They minded their own business.”
A wave of nausea overtook her as she imagined an eight-year-old boy living with a mother who didn’t give two shits about him. How she didn’t care if he learned how to read or write. That she felt no responsibility as his mother to make sure that he had friends and developed socially and emotionally.
“Where did you grow up?”
Luke took a sip of wine and said, “Atlantic City, New Jersey.”
Atlantic City. A seaside resort. A playground for gamblers at the many casinos. Although the city had been cleaned up over the years with many dilapidated buildings and rundown dwellings being demolished and replaced with modern and streamlined properties, it still had its sections. Eden, for example, was in one of the remodeled sections, but just a block or two over, hookers and drug dealers worked the streets.
“How about you?”
She realized that she had not included that little fact in her ramblings the day before. It hadn’t been on purpose, just not something she had volunteered, or thought was important. Since he basically knew everything about her, what difference did it make if he knew where she had spent the majority of her miserable childhood?
“Newark, New Jersey.” Like Atlantic City, Newark also had some shitty sections. And she had grown up smack dab in the middle of one.
What a miserable thing to have in common.
Fortunately, the appetizers arrived. The antipasti she had ordered was fantastic. She could have filled up on the prosciutto and smoked mozzarella, foregoing the steak which had yet to arrive and would have been a happy girl. Then she tasted the ‘sex on a plate’ appetizer, and after one bite of the savory mushroom crostini she had to agree. Luke smiled as she went back for seconds.
The conversation drifted to safer topics, which she was both thankful for and saddened by. For the first time since she had met him, she felt like he was truly starting to let her in, giving her a glimpse of his past, of why he was the way he was. He hadn’t disclosed that he was physically abused, but he had suffered from severe parental neglect, which could be just as traumatizing. Peyton was happy that he had felt comfortable enough to share even that much with her. Maybe it wasn’t the time to push him. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. For him to disclose his past in bits and pieces, at his own pace, in his own time…unlike her, who had divulged practically every heinous detail of her upbringing in one sitting.
Over dinner he asked her about her future plans, considering she had officially ended her modeling career. Peyton explained that she didn’t know exactly what the future held for her at this point, but she would know it when she saw it. She also disclosed why she quit the modeling business. Luke just sat back and listened attentively without judgement. It felt good to share with someone why she was done with modeling after ten years, though she would forever be grateful for the opportunity she had been given.
Their waiter had just finished clearing their dinner plates when he asked if they were in the mood for dessert. Peyton was stuffed but there was always room for something sweet. Luke read her perfectly and ordered a slice of tiramisu to split. “I love that, by the way.”
“Love what?” she asked. He had removed his suit jacket a few minutes into dinner, making him appear more casual and even sexier, if that was humanly possible.
“Your appetite. Watching you eat and truly appreciating your food.”
They had polished off their bottle of wine a while ago, so she reached for the ice water in front of her. “Not what you expected? From a model…an ex-model, I mean?”
“I’ve learned, even in our short time together, that nothing is as it seems, not when it comes to you.” For the first time this evening, his gaze dropped below her chin and stilled on her breasts. His eyes dilated at the sight, causing her breathing to quicken and her heart to race.
“No one has ever looked at me the way you do.”
He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by being caught. He leisurely trailed his eyes along the swell of her breasts, to her neck and then finally met her gaze. With hooded and unapologetic eyes, he asked, “How do I look at you?”
“Like you want to devour and savor me at the same time.”
***
Luke
He’d promised to be a gentleman, not a fucking saint. And right now, he was having some very ungentlemanlike thoughts about the woman at his side.
Dinner had gone well. They had talked openly and he’d even revealed a little of his past to her, which to his surprise didn’t invoke a panic attack on his end. It gave him hope that he would be able to share more with her next time. Because there would be a next time. That was the point of the two days he had asked for. He wanted to prove to her that he could open up just like she had, that he could give her everything she wanted.
“So where are we staying?” she asked as they crossed the street. As in where was he taking her where they would be alone. His cock was still standing at attention from dinner. Her comment about how he looked at her, that he wanted to both devour and savor her, was so frighteningly accurate he had been unable to provide an immediate response. Luckily, their dessert and coffees had arrived, saving him and leaving him with the most painful hard-on of his life.
“I called the Villa Rosa while you were in the ladies’ room at the restaurant. Luckily, we got the last room. Apparently, tomorrow marks the start of a week-long festival for Nocella and the town of Positano, so it’s a bit busier than usual, I’m afraid.” Her slight change in pace and the nervous look on her face, the one she tried desperately to conceal from him, registered. It pained him to see how uneasy she was around him, how skeptical she was of his motives. Did she not trust him? Or did she regret her decision to be with him for the next two days? He had to find out.
He spent the two-minute drive to Villa Rosa debating with himself over how he should broach the question. But in the end, he just came right out and asked. He pulled into one of the parking spots behind the B&B and turned off his vehicle. With her eyes lowered and looking at everything but him, she appeared even more nervous than when he had first told her that they were sharing a room. The sight scared the shit out of him. Was this a lost cause? Would she ever look at him the same, like the way she had that morning when she had stripped off the sheet she had been wearing and dropped to her knees? The look in her eyes had been one of lust and desire. But he’d also seen, or maybe he hoped he had, what appeared to be a deeper emotion. Appreciation? Admiration…love? Now that he knew and could put a label on his own feelings, he sure as shit hoped that it was the latter he had seen dancing in her eyes when she took him into her mouth and sucked him to the brink.
“Peyton, I meant what I said earlier. I will not touch you or try anything you don’t want. You will never have to worry about that. Not with me.”
She finally looked at him and those nervous eyes softened. She appeared almost apologetic and it took everything he had not to take her into his arms and tell her how much he loved her.
Not yet. She wasn’t ready to hear those words. Something told him that it wasn’t the time or place to confess everything he felt for her. So he forced a smile instead.
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“I know I’m safe with you. Even after…after what happened, after how we left things, I trust you.” Relief washed over him. Maybe he wasn’t too late after all. But within seconds she squashed his newfound hope by saying, “I trust that you would never intentionally hurt me.”
Intentionally.
Her choice of words shredded him. And the look in her eyes, the doubt and pain that resonated there, made him want to fucking weep. But he couldn’t give up. He knew winning her back and making her believe that he was the man for her was not going to be easy. He had hurt her one too many times and she had every right to end things here and now. “Two days, Peyton. I know I don’t deserve them. But I…”
Peyton reached over and cupped his left cheek. “I’m just so afraid. I’m afraid to see what kind of condition my heart will be in after the two days.”
He had the same fear, but for his own fragile heart. Placing his hand over hers, he said, “I’m not the same man, Peyton.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Thank God I woke the fuck up.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Peyton
You can do this. Treat it like a sleepover. A sleepover with a really hot guy. A guy who knows exactly how to touch you, how to look at you. A guy who makes you want things you never thought were in the cards for you.
Breathe.
While Luke unlocked the door to their room, Peyton continued with her silent chant. Her self-confidence started to build, only to plummet into an all-out freefall the moment they stepped into their room and she saw the beautiful king-size bed. Adjacent to the four-poster bed was a gas fireplace, which at the moment was ablaze and giving off a romantic glow. Peyton’s eyes washed over the spacious but cozy room and saw that it had its own private balcony and an adjoining bathroom. She also spotted a small round table and a set of chairs, which she figured was used when ordering in.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Luke said, closing the door behind them. He walked over and set their bags on one of the chairs.
She wasn’t going to lie to herself. She was scared to share a room with him, breathe the same air as him, because she knew her defenses were starting to crumble…and he hadn’t even touched her yet. But making him sleep on the floor? That she could not let him do.
“Luke, you’re not sleeping on the floor. The bed is a king and big enough for the both of us.”
He glanced over at the bed and shook his head. “I’ll take the floor.”
“Luke, please, I can handle it if you can.”
A smile tugged at those kissable lips of his. “That’s the thing, Peyton. I can’t. I can’t lie that close to you and keep my promise.”
His honest admission sent a rush of heat straight to her core. Never had a man voiced his desire for her so openly, as if he didn’t care about the consequences. And never had a man made her so aroused and wet with just his words alone. With her mind in the gutter she nodded, somehow managing to mouth okay before she grabbed her carry-on and escaped into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, Peyton was dressed in a t-shirt and yoga pants and brushing her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror. And still feeling completely off kilter due to Luke’s comment. Feeling defeated and in no control of her emotions, she left the bathroom only to find their bedroom empty. She was just about to call out Luke’s name when he came strolling through the front door, his arms full of pillows.
“Did you leave enough pillows for the rest of the guests?” she asked.
“I’ll have you know that I asked Rosa for an extra pillow, as in one.”
Rosa was the elderly, not-so-shy owner of the B&B. While checking them in less than an hour ago Rosa had shamelessly flirted with Luke, causing him to blush profusely. Peyton had fought back her laughter in the beginning, but as Rosa continued to check him out, his rump in particular, Peyton had let loose and chuckled at his expense.
“And how is sweet Rosa?” Peyton asked, climbing into bed.
Luke smiled and rolled his eyes. “As frisky as ever.” Luke fanned a blanket on the floor next to the fireplace. He then situated the mountain of pillows on top. When he was finished he grabbed his suitcase and went into the bathroom.
This was ridiculous. She couldn’t let him sleep on a pile of pillows. They were grown adults for Christ’s sake. Peyton walked over, snagged the pillows off the floor and placed them on the king-size bed. When she was finished, there was a wall of pillows down the center of the bed.
How was this any less ridiculous? It wasn’t, and she knew it. But before she could deconstruct her wall, Luke emerged from the bathroom, took one look at the bed and said, “Peyton, that’s not a good idea.”
He was right, but she wasn’t giving up. Instead of breaking down her wall, she embraced it and said, “We’re two mature adults. It’s simple, really. You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” With all the casualness she could muster she slipped into bed and rolled onto her side so she couldn’t face him. She didn’t hear him move for over a minute. In fact, she wondered if he was still in the room at all. She was just about to call out to him when she felt the other side of the bed dip. A rustle of covers came next and then an indisputable sigh.
“Goodnight, Peyton,” he said. She didn’t think it was on purpose, but she detected a hint of sadness in his tone.
It wasn’t her intention to tease or punish him, but she feared that maybe he thought that was exactly what she was doing. She looked over her shoulder, but she couldn’t see past that damn pillow wall. Peyton rolled over and waited. And waited some more. Slowly, she raised her arm and rested her hand on top of one of the pillows. “Will you hold my hand as I fall asleep?” He didn’t say anything, but she felt his fingers lace through hers. That simple touch instantly put her body and mind at ease and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep.
***
It was the pain that woke her. Not the gasping or screams.
Indescribable pain originated at her fingers and shot up her arm, forcing her to sit straight up and demand to know its source. She looked over and saw the fingers of her left hand being crushed in Luke’s vise grip. Instinctively, she tried to tear her hand away, but it only made him squeeze harder. She was pretty tough, but it hurt like hell and she felt her eyes tear up. But what made the floodgates open was when she saw Luke’s face. Even in the dark, she could see his tortured expression, hear his gasping pleas for help. Terrified, she dug her fingers into his arm and shook him violently. It wasn’t until she screamed at him to wake up that his eyes shot open.
“Luke, it’s me. Are you okay?”
He followed her voice and stared at her like he was looking right through her. He finally blinked several times and then peered down at where they were joined. His hand trembled as he released her. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she lied. She wiggled her fingers around and though they were a bit sore, she knew he hadn’t broken any bones. Peyton turned on the nightstand light. “You looked like you were in so much…pain.”
Luke swung his legs around until his feet were flat on the floor. Still seated on the bed, he rested his head in his hands and worked to calm his breathing. After several minutes of silence, Peyton was convinced that he wasn’t going to answer her, that he was going to shut her out once again. And then he drew in one deep breath and told her a story so tragic that she struggled to be that strong woman he thought she was.
“It feels like it’s still there. That’s how real that nightmare was.” Peyton pushed the wall of pillows to the floor and knelt behind him on the bed. She watched him glide his fingers along the slope of his neck. “When I was eight years old, a few months after Patrick and Lucrezia adopted me, I tried to hang myself from a tree in my backyard. But instead of breaking my neck like I intended, I hung there, kicking and gasping for breath until a neighbor, my Aunt Day, came and cut me down.”
Peyton fought the urge to vomit on the spot. The thought of a little boy dangling by his neck because he didn’t want to live anymore ma
de her heart ache and she was unable to stop the tears from coming.
“I had chosen early morning before the house was up so I wouldn’t be interrupted. But I hadn’t counted on Aunt Day being awake, which I should have anticipated since she often worked first shift at the diner down the street. She must have seen me from the window and came out running.”
Peyton struggled to keep her composure and not let go of the sobs that so wanted to be unleashed and ripped from her throat. Although she had wished for death when Reggie was raping her, she had never considered taking her own life. She shuddered to think what exactly he had gone through to make him want to end things, just when he had been adopted into a loving family.
“I remember the night before so clearly.” His voice wasn’t melancholy but matter of fact. “I had just checked on my brothers, something I did frequently. Gabe had been curled up on the couch with Lucrezia and listening to her as she read his favorite bedtime story. I found Brennan in the kitchen with Patrick and Jake. They were talking about football and having a snack consisting of homemade cookies and milk. Both my brothers were happy, so incredibly and beautifully content. I went to my bedroom and wrote Patrick and Lucrezia a letter. I needed them to know why I wanted to kill myself, that it wasn’t because of something they did or didn’t do, that I would have done it no matter what. I had just been waiting for the right time. And in that moment, it felt right. I saw with my own two eyes how happy Brennan and Gabe were. They didn’t need me anymore. Patrick and Lucrezia would love and protect them now. But since I never went to school, I wasn’t able to put down in words how I felt. Instead I drew them a picture of Gabe and Brennan happy and holding hands with their adopted parents. I also drew a smile on the stick figure that represented me. But I was sitting on a cloud in the sky looking down…relieved. When I was finished with the letter, I stuffed it into my hoodie pocket, the same hoodie I had planned to wear the next morning when I did the deed, so they would find it easily. I then drifted off to sleep, a sleep that was so sound and peaceful.”