by Marie Harte
“Let me guess,” Smith drawled. “It wasn’t long before he gave you an ultimatum about moving to be with him, or you were through.”
“Yes. And I’d repeatedly told him I loved Kansas. All my friends and family, well, except for Joy, are there.”
“So, he never figured you’d move out here.”
“That’s the gist of it.” She shook her head. “Our last conversation, when he told me I either moved, or we were done… He really made me think. What was I hanging on to? Love is worth moving mountains or moving cities. Suddenly, leaving for Seattle became an adventure, not something to be afraid of. So, I left Kansas for only the second time ever, and I moved here to be with him. And, well, you know how that turned out.”
He was staring at her in a way that made her feel too open.
“Smith?”
“Do you think I ask you for too much?”
She didn’t understand. “You barely ask me for anything.”
“But you made me cookies. You just cooked me dinner, and we’ve had sex. Do you think I’m using you for, I don’t know, food or something?”
She smiled, because he’d had to think about what he might be using her for. “No. First of all, I offered you cookies. I asked if you wanted dinner tonight. And the sex…” She colored. “I like being with you that way.”
“I fucking love it,” he said bluntly. “But it’s only good if you’re into it.” He paused, and she sensed the vulnerability he masked with his gruff question, “Are you into it? For sure?”
She leaned closer to kiss him on the lips. “Do you really have to ask that after yesterday?”
A satisfied, very male smile appeared. “Yeah, that’s true. You were all over me.”
“Smith.”
He chuckled, then his mirth fled. “I, ah, I need some advice, I think.”
“Hey, you listened to me about Cody. I’m here for you.”
“I know. And I have to tell you, that’s new for me.” He scowled. “You, Reid, Cash, Evan. Hell, the crew at work. I’ve been alone for a long time, and now people are all over the place. And they act like they want to help and be friendly. I don’t mean you. You’re real. I get that. But… Meg said she has a note from my birth father.
“I mentioned it before; my family is fucked up. My birth mom, Angela, had a family already. But she’d been fooling around with Allen. First, she had Cash. He’s my full brother. She hid the part about him being Allen’s, so Cash grew up thinking he had a different father. And that guy had no idea Cash wasn’t his. Then she and that guy had Reid. He’s a legit Griffith. But she kept having a thing with my old man, and she got pregnant with me.”
Erin watched in rapt fascination. She nodded for him to continue. “I’m tracking.”
“It’s so convoluted. And just weird.” He sighed. “Anyway, you know the rest. Angela hid her pregnancy, gave birth to me, and handed me off to her sister—Meg Ramsey. I don’t think Meg ever loved me. But her husband had died, and she was lonely, I guess. Plus, it probably made her feel good to know she had her sister’s son from the man she was in love with.”
“Wait. You lost me.”
“See, both sisters loved Allen—my birth father. But Allen only loved Angela. While I was a kid, Allen used to come visit me. Or Meg. I’m not sure which. He loved Angela, but he’d come over to fuck Margaret. He’d play with me some then take off. Once a month like clockwork, for years. Then he stopped coming. And it broke something inside her. She’d always been kind of cold, but after he stopped coming, Meg turned downright mean.”
Erin could see him lost in bad memories, and she hated that he’d been subjected to such nastiness growing up. “I’m so sorry. So, you had no one at all to help you?”
He shrugged. “I had books and comics.” He gave her a strained grin. “I had a pretty good imagination, and I used to dream about being a superhero. How my real parents would one day show up and take me to my home planet.” He flushed. “Sounds stupid, right?”
“Not at all. It sounds like an amazing way to cope.”
“I wasn’t totally awful. I had friends, but not good friends. I was pretty much a loner in school. I got good grades, but I really shone on the sports field. Soccer, basketball, lacrosse. You name it, I played it. And I loved the intensity of competition. I’ve been trying my whole life to make Meg care, even a little bit. And since she was always telling me how much better my cousins were, I strove to beat them.”
She shook her head. “But nothing you did could ever be as good as what they did, right?”
“Exactly. But one thing she’d said stuck with me. I ended up joining the Marine Corps because of Cash and Reid. At the time I didn’t know anything about them. Just that my cousins were so much better than me. The Marines helped. I lived away from her, and I did well. Got promoted up the chain. Saw other countries, learned a lot. But it was never enough for me. When I left, I came home. Thinking maybe things would be different here.”
“They weren’t.” She didn’t have to guess.
“No. And she let it all out, how she wasn’t my mother, about Allen, Cash and Reid, all of it. So, I joined Vets on the Go! to learn about them. And man, I hated those two perfect brothers, my birth mom’s precious kids. She threw me away but she kept them?” The conversation had riled him up, but Erin couldn’t blame him.
She caressed his cheek, and he froze. “I think I might hate Margaret Ramsey.” And I might be seriously falling for you.
Chapter Thirteen
Smith stopped his rant, embarrassed he’d told her so much. Yet part of him felt so much freer getting it off his chest. Someone besides Smith knew the truth. Even better, she was on his side.
“You didn’t have a choice,” she’d said, and that resonated, easing a burden he hadn’t been aware he’d carried for so long.
“I’m sorry. Is that wrong?” Erin asked, her hand still on his cheek as she leaned over the table. “Do you still love her?”
“Hell no.” But he wanted…something…from the blasted woman. Not affection. He’d lost the need for her love long ago. But an acknowledgement of how she’d wronged him, that he craved. “I can’t stand her. But she’s holding a note from Allen—to me—over my head. I have to help her move. If I don’t, she won’t give me the note. I might help her move, and she might burn it to ash. With her, who knows?”
“That’s so messed up.” Erin’s eyes blazed. “She’s an awful person. To treat a child with such cruelty is just wrong. But then to not give you what’s rightfully yours? He was your father, even if he never told you.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure he ever knew.” A sudden thought occurred.
“What’s that look?”
“Come to my apartment with me?” He wanted her to see something. Because coward that he was, he didn’t want to read Angela’s journal alone.
“Sure.” Erin grabbed her keys and locked up behind her.
Once inside his apartment, she settled on the couch while he grabbed the journal and returned to her. They sat side by side, and her presence gave him the strength to open the book.
“This belonged to Angela Griffith, my birth mother. Reid and Cash gave it to me to read, but I only managed a few pages before I had to close it.”
“Oh, Smith. Is it too painful?” Erin put an arm around his waist.
His emotions surged, a powerful longing for Erin to never, ever leave. He cleared his throat to dispel the knot of feeling making it difficult to speak. “Um, no. It’s just fucking bad. She writes all this shitty prose. Like, it’s a very bad daytime soap, but with flowery language and euphemisms all over the place.”
Erin tried to bite back a grin. “I can’t believe it. You’re a literary snob.”
He flushed. “I am not. I read comics and fantasy for fun. I like books—well-written books.”
She snickered.
He found himself smiling. “Oh, stop.”
She laughed. “Smith Ramsey, the man who taught Tilly the word ‘fuck-knuckle,’ has def
inite ideas on well-written books.”
“Shut up.”
She finally quieted. “Okay, so you don’t want to read her book, maybe because learning certain things, no matter how poorly written, might hurt.”
She’d hit it in one.
He sighed. “Yes.”
“Give it to me.”
He handed it over. “This makes me a huge pussy for not having the stones to read the truth on my own, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all.” She pulled him close for a kiss that comforted. “Now I tell you what.” Erin opened the journal, and his heart raced. “If you make me a nice cup of tea, I’ll just sit here and read some of this. Will that work?”
“Um, sure. Yes. Great.” He stood and stepped toward the kitchen then stopped. “What kind of tea?”
“Surprise me.”
An hour later, Erin closed the book. She frowned, and her mouth remained a flat line. “Smith?”
He sat next to her on the chaise, sprawled out reading the next in a fantasy series he’d found at the library, one of his favorite places to go when he had any free time. He’d lost himself in the book, used to escaping the shittier things in life with make-believe.
Smith set his book aside. “What?”
“I think you should read this.” She scooted next to him and pointed to a passage written in very neat cursive.
Charles has no idea, and it’s best I keep it that way. If he knew Allen’s name, who Allen really was, I fear he’d kill my love.
But my baby boy, my little Riley. So special. I miss him every day, but at least he’s in good hands with Meg. I miss my sister. I miss my son.
And it happened. As I’d feared, I made a mistake. Charles heard Cash talking about what should have been our little secret, my private nickname for my boy. Charles came to me and demanded to know why I’d called him that. And it all came spilling out. How much I missed Allen. How Cash reminded me of his father.
Charles hit me that day. Only once. A slap across my face.
And then he cried. My big, strong husband cried like he’d only cried that one time before. And I knew then I should never think to leave him. Not when my love meant so much to him. I saw the depth of Charles’s pain, and it moved me so.
I swore I’d never see Allen again. And from that day forward, I meant it. Allen was heartbroken. But Charles. He glowed with joy, that I’d chosen him over my true love.
I tried to hold onto that joy. But so lost without Allen, I turned inward. And found happiness in the words of others.
Erin said quietly, “I wonder if that’s why he stopped coming around, because Angela told him it was over. I’ve read through most of this and don’t see anywhere that she told Allen about you. I have a feeling she kept you a secret.”
“But he used to visit me all the time.” Smith paused. Or had he? Allen had come and played with him, yes, but the majority of the man’s time had been spent with Margaret. Maybe he’d been kind to Margaret’s “son” to keep her happy. “So, he might not have known about me.” He for damn sure couldn’t trust Meg’s version of the past.
“I don’t know. I’ve still got a few pages to read. But you’re right. Most of this reads like a bad romance.” She flushed. “I read, you know, and the stuff I like is so much better than this.”
He nodded, distracted. Now more than ever he needed to read Allen’s letter.
Erin turned back to the journal. Smith stopped her. “No. You’ve done enough. I should read this.”
“It’s bad. And there are more spots like this passage, earlier on, that are…” Her eyes welled. “I don’t think Angela was all there, but her feelings were real. She loved her children, all of you.” She sniffed. “But she didn’t show it well at all. I feel so bad for your brothers. I know Meg abused you.”
“She didn’t—”
“She did.” Erin frowned. “Verbal abuse is just as bad as physical abuse. There’s no excuse for it.”
Having her in his corner felt so fucking amazing. “Thanks.”
She nodded. “And though Meg was awful, I don’t think living in Angela and Charles’ household would have been any better.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have been all alone.” And that, there, was the crux of it. Smith was so damn tired of being alone.
Erin didn’t look at him as if he were pathetic for admitting that. Instead, she sighed. “Yeah. That has to be the worst. Being sad and afraid and having no one to turn to.” She looked at him, straight in the eye. “I’m so proud of you, and it makes me feel a little bad about my own problems.”
“What? Why?” He swung his feet over the chaise and sat up straight, watching her try to express herself. Her eyes started to grow shiny, and he didn’t like it.
“You had no one to help you grow into the kind, loving man you are today.”
His cheeks felt hot. “Nah. Don’t make me—”
“You hush,” she said and wiped her eyes. “When I was at the lowest point in my life, you were there. You helped me. You held me. And you never once took advantage or did anything but look out for me. No one showed you how to be a good man, Smith. You did that all on your own.” She sniffed. “I have silly problems. A broken heart. Broken hearts heal. But what was done to you could have broken your forever.” She leaned close and cupped his cheeks. “You’re so much more than you see yourself. I see you.” She put his hand over her heart. “See how it races? Because you’re near. Because you’re so amazing, and you can’t see it.”
His eyes burned. No one had ever said that kind of stuff to him before. Sure, he could bring a woman to orgasm. Yes, he had large muscles and a decent enough face. But Erin was really looking at him and seeing something that made her truly happy. Proud, she’d said.
He blinked to keep mortifying tears at bay.
“Can I ask a favor from you?” She wiped her eyes.
“Ask anything.”
“Can I sleep over tonight?” Before he could deny her, knowing she had to be making the request of out pity, she added, “You said a lot about how you feel. And it made me realize something. We’re only alone if we allow it.”
He dropped his hand from her chest, not able to handle feeling her racing heart any more. Smith felt for this woman, something strange and beautiful and terrifying. And every time she said something meaningful and deep, she made it worse.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight. I want to sleep next to you and know that you’re there to keep me safe.” She flushed. “That’s not very independent minded, is it?”
“Stay.” He cleared his throat, aware a gravel truck seemed to have parked there. “Just to sleep, I swear. I’d like that.”
Her bright eyes crinkled, and her lips curled up in a smile. One that never failed to shock his pulse and warm him deep inside.
“I’d love to. And I’ll read the rest of that tomorrow.” She pointed to Angela’s journal.
“No. That’s for me to read. You helped me, so much. But it’s time for me to stop avoiding the truth.”
“Are you sure?” She looked up at him with concern.
So loving and tender, always trying to help someone else. Was it any wonder he’d fallen for her? “I’m sure.” He led her into the bedroom. While they took turns getting ready for bed, he turned down the comforter.
He wore his underwear, and Erin wore one of his favorite shirts, dwarfed by the Avengers.
“You really do like comics, don’t you?” she teased and plucked the thin cotton from her body.
It settled over her pert breasts again. Too emotionally and physically drained from the night’s revelations, he patted the bed. She joined him, and when she turned on her side and snuggled closer, he breathed in her scent and kissed the top of her head, in love and uncertain about where to go from there.
“Good night, Erin.”
She kissed his chest, above his heart, and he swore the shriveled organ cracked its outer shell and started beating just for her. “Good night…Riley.”
He blinked mor
e tears, not sure who he felt simultaneously sad and happy for. The man who had finally found a treasure to care for, or the boy who had missed so much in his life?
Erin snuggled deeper. “Nah. Good night, Smith. That’s much better.” He swore she murmured something that sounded like “sweetheart” before she drifted off.
He just held her and drifted into a contented sleep better than he’d had in years.
* * *
Erin awoke the next morning, unsure about her comfortable surroundings and glorious warmth, until she remembered last night. Poor Smith. God, the look on his face as they’d talked about his life. It made her want to cry all over again. Such an amazing man to come from such a start in life.
Was it any wonder she’d come to care for him on such a deep, lasting level? This was nothing like the “love” she’d felt for Cody, the crushes she’d had in the past, or even her first love in high school. Smith was a man with a man’s needs, and for the first time that she could remember, she felt as if she could partner with him, so that they might help and love each other.
God, she’d admitted it. The L-word. Too soon, too soon. Yet she felt it all the same.
An arm tightened around her, bringing her closer to Smith, who spooned her from behind. She had to sneak away to use the facilities, but instead of staying awake—she blinked at the 5:00am on the alarm—she carefully crawled back into bed in the position she’d just left.
Smith murmured her name and tugged her closer. So strong, so big, he surrounded her with care and heat. Such wonderful heat.
Erin used two blankets over the air mattress in her apartment to combat the cold, and then threw more on top of her when she slept. But just one Smith and she felt toasty, comfy, and…aroused.
He pulled her into his body, his erection thick against her back. She wondered if it would be in bad form to explore him. Probably, though she doubted he’d mind.