Delivered with a Kiss: Veteran Movers 4
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Smith shoved his hands in his pockets, but he moved with a stiffness he didn’t normally show.
“You’re hurt.” She couldn’t believe no one had told her. Not that anyone owed her any explanations, but she’d made friends with the girls and, she thought, Evan.
“I got into a fight. I’m not proud of it.” He looked embarrassed, and she was dumbfounded.
“I thought you lived to fight.”
“Normally.” He sighed. “I guess we should sit down and talk.” He seemed to bite out that last word.
She paused, wanting to read him the riot act for ignoring her but concerned. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No.” He gave a sad laugh and carefully sprawled out on the chaise portion of his sectional. “I’m so fucked up it’s not funny.”
This wasn’t going the way she’d thought it might, but as her grandma used to say, in for a penny, in for a pound. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
The million-dollar question.
“Because I’m a pussy.”
She sat next to him and frowned. “Not the answer I was looking for.”
Chapter Twenty
The guys had told him not to tell her what an idiot—or as Cash had so colorfully called him: fuckhead, cheesedick, absolute moron—he’d been. But Smith didn’t like secrets, and he figured Erin had a right to know what she was getting into by being with him.
He forced himself to look at her, taking in her beauty, her selflessness, that fact that just looking at her hurt, because he loved her so damn much.
“I’m not good at relationships.” He licked his suddenly dry lips. “Um, could you get me a glass of water?”
She narrowed her eyes. “That depends. Are you breaking up with me?”
“Me?” He didn’t know if she was joking or not. “Hell no. But I can see you breaking up with me after I tell you what I tell you.”
She didn’t look so pleased with him, but she fetched him a glass of water.
“Thanks.”
“Talk.”
He swallowed half the glass and sighed. “I told you Meg, the woman who raised me, wasn’t very nice to me.”
“She was horrible. Abusive.”
“Yeah, well, she kind of gave me a complex. Like, sometimes I can spiral and think I’m no good, and it affects my relationships.”
“O-kay.” Erin waited.
“So I, well, I didn’t mean to, but—”
“You cheated on me.” Erin stood and glared down at him. “Just like Cody. Of all the—”
“I did not cheat on you.”
“The—the… You didn’t?” She sagged back to the couch, looking relieved. “Oh, okay. Sorry. Go on.”
He carefully sat up so his feet were on the floor, facing her. “They told me not to tell you. That I would look like a bad bet and you’d run off.”
“They have no idea what I will or won’t do,” Erin said, her spine stiff.
“Yeah, that’s what I told them. You do what’s right. You’re sweet and kind, sexy as hell.” He tried not to let the truth hurt. “And you can do so much better than me.”
“Uh-huh.”
He hadn’t expected her to agree with him. “What?”
“I’m listening.”
“So, ah, yeah.” He ran an unsteady hand through his hair and decided to lay it all on the line. “On Sunday, when you said you needed to go home, I kind of freaked out. I thought you were tired of me. You were nasty, and well…”
“Bitchy.”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” he said quickly, though he’d been thinking it.
“I was hurting and weepy and didn’t want you to see me like that again.”
“Um, I know that now.” He flushed. He’d never discussed a woman’s time of the month with her and didn’t want to start now. “I wish I’d known then. I’d have tried to help you out. Somehow.”
“Oh?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. A massage or something.” She wore a sly smile he didn’t trust, so he continued, “I got into my head you were done with me, and it crushed me. I had all these bad thoughts, about how I’m a loser and trash and no good.” He didn’t mean to tear up and tried to hide it, but ever since freaking out with the guys, his emotions had been less than steady. A catharsis long in coming, Evan had said. What the fuck did Evan know?
He blinked hard.
“So you think you’re trash, and that I want to date trash?”
“No. Not at all.” He hung his head in his hands and subtly wiped his eyes. “I just… I finally found you, someone I care about, who makes me feel so damn good. You’re smart and sexy as hell. You could have any guy you wanted. And you wanted me. And we were going to live together, to be together. But you wouldn’t move in with me, and it felt like you didn’t really want to commit. Then I was still worried about Tilly, because she means more to me than I thought she did. I love her.”
Erin smiled. “I love her too.” She put a hand on his knee, and he slowly, carefully, lifted her to sit on top of him.
It felt so good to hold her again. He didn’t know how long it might last, and he gave her every opportunity to move. But when she didn’t, he pulled her in close and pressed his head over her shoulder.
“I love you, Erin.” So much. It will kill me if you leave…
* * *
“What?” Erin pushed back so she could look into his eyes, stunned to see them filled with tears. So of course that made hers fill. “No. No, no, no. You don’t say it first. I say it first.”
She wrenched herself out of his arms and started pacing, confused and angry with him for thinking so little of himself. “Okay, this is how it goes.”
“You love me?” Hope lightened his eyes, and the bright green seemed to glow with promise.
“Shut up. This is my moment. I’ve grown. I know what I had with Cody didn’t work because he—and I—made mistakes. We talked about it, and—”
“Wait. You talked to Cody?” The old Smith returned, anger pinching his cheeks.
“Yeah, face-to-face. And I had French macarons. Deal with it.”
“French what?”
She poked him in the chest, and he winced. “I am growing up. Taking responsibility for my actions. I fell in love with you right away, and I kept trying to convince myself it wasn’t real. Why?”
“You love me?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
But she wasn’t done. “But who the heck—no, hell—do I owe any explanations? I’m not a lady, I’m a woman. One who wants to have orgasms and live in sin in a one-bedroom apartment making meals for a bossy old woman I love like my grandma. And you. I fell in love with you, a gruff Marine who is so sweet though he tries to hide it. You’re strong and sexy and kind, and you hate that anyone figures you out. But I see you.”
“Are you sure?”
Suddenly something clicked. She knew why he seemed so unsure. “Yes, Smith Riley Ramsey. I’m sure. I know all your ugly spots, your tickle spots, and I love you. Even though I’m now learning you’re pretty neurotic, I still love you.”
His grin brightened the entire room.
“I had a big night all planned. A fancy dinner, an awesome dessert—not chocolate, by the way—and some hot sex after. But I don’t think you can handle that.”
“I fought Cash and lost. I was out of it, pretty wacked on adrenaline and emotion. I’m not gonna lie, Erin. I got freaked out for no reason, which Evan was happy to point out,” he said drily. “I need some help with communicating. And I’m still messed up from what Meg did to me.”
“I wouldn’t be with a loser. You remember that.”
“I try. But then I think I’m not good enough, and you’ll realize that and leave. They all left me, Erin.” He sniffed to pull back on the pity party, but a tear left him.
“Stop it,” Erin ordered, wiping his eyes, then hers. “I’m a crier by proxy. I see it, I do it.”
He couldn’t help chuckling. “Sorry.”
“You are sorry. Your moms, both of
them, sucked ass.”
He laughed. “Fighting words.”
“Yeah. But I have a great mom. I know how to show love. And you have family now. Brothers, Aunt Jane, who couldn’t say enough good stuff about you when we went out, by the way.”
“Oh.” He flushed.
“Look. I get emotional once a month. It just is. And you and I are new, and this is really our first big argument if you think about it, that’s not even an argument. I had no beef with you.”
He swallowed, looking too scared to hope. Then Smith shuttered his expression, and the kickass Marine returned. “Well, if you do, I can handle it. Just tell me.”
“Have I ever, in the entire time you’ve known me, ever held back with you? I mean, except for the time of the month thing.”
He blinked in astonishment. “Not really.”
“Not at all,” she said proudly. “With you I’ve been a hundred percent honest with myself. I wasn’t honest with Cody, and I didn’t realize it until now. I’m being the real me with you. I want to be a cooking star. I want to have hot sex and make love. I want to do sixty-nines and bake you cookies until I find a recipe that has you falling in love with chocolate.”
“Ah, not sure that will happen.” He held his arms open. “Come here.”
She sat on his lap and kissed him, moaning at the perfect connection they shared. “I love you, Smith.”
“Love you back, Cupcake.” He pressed his forehead to hers, and they both started wiping wet cheeks. “And we never, ever tell anyone about this.”
“That you’re apparently a closet crier? No. You have an image to maintain.” She scooted closer and felt him hard and ready under her bottom. “A big image, am I right?”
He groaned. “And growing bigger. How about we take this into the bedroom, and you be gentle as you take advantage of me?”
“How can I say no to that?”
She said nothing but yes until the sun came up.
On Saturday, Smith knocked at Meg’s door as Reid, Cash, Evan, and Erin waited for him. He felt nervous and didn’t know why.
Meg opened the door. Staring down at her, he saw the familiar loathing, the disgust. But after talking to Erin and the guys about a lot of shit he’d rather forget, he started to wonder who she felt all that negative energy for. Him…or herself?
“Come on in.” She stepped back and shut the door behind him. Her thin face looked thinner, pale and drawn. Her blue eyes, so unhappy, had few lines, because she’d rarely in her life smiled. She wore faded jeans and a blue Marine Corps sweatshirt, one he’d given her many years ago.
He said nothing about it and let no expression cross his face. She studied him hungrily, but he had no idea what she wanted to see.
“What? No kiss for your mother?” she said with a bitter smile.
“I don’t have a mother,” he responded in kind. “Now where’s the letter?”
“You pack up my stuff and move it to this address, and I’ll give it to you.”
“No. You give me the letter first. I don’t trust you. I’ve been a lot of things in life, but I’m not a liar. I give you my word I’ll help you out. And here’s the money.” A thousand dollars in fifties and twenties he’d withdrawn from the bank. More than he could afford to spare, but he hadn’t wanted the others to know about that part. That some pussy-whipped idiot inside him still wanted to help the woman out after all she’d done.
No, not pussy-whipped, her heard Erin’s voice deep inside him. A good, kind, decent man, the one I fell in love with. Because, as Erin continued to tell him, she was too good to fall in love with a loser. So Smith could never be that. And, well, she had talked him into seeing someone to deal with his self-esteem issues. Though she hadn’t had to convince him, not when Evan had practically forced him to see a guy who owed him a few favors. A decent therapist who dealt with vets.
So Smith was on the mend, feeling high with Erin and his new family in his corner.
But Meg had no one.
She took the money, looking surprised he’d brought it. She handed him a thick manila envelope. “He passed away two months ago. But he left this for you right before you got back to the States, actually.” She gave him a mean smile. “Too bad he died before you could see him.”
“Too bad.” He agreed, not happy or sad about the fact. Unlike Cash, Smith had no emotional connection to the man who’d sired them. He knew Cash wanted to think at least Allen had been a decent guy, but Smith knew better.
He opened the sealed envelope and glanced inside to see it contained something from a law firm as well as a personal letter and a photo. So she hadn’t made up the letter after all. He’d taken a chance.
“It’s real. You can see I never opened it,” she snapped.
He nodded. Then he asked what he’d wanted to know for so long. “Why?”
She sneered. “Why? Why what?”
“Why were you so cruel to me? What did I ever do to you?”
“You were born.” She looked the way he’d felt when he’d unloaded on Cash and the others. All that toxic emotion came boiling out, and Meg seethed and shouted, her words making a sad kind of sense. “Angela and I fell for the same man—Allen. But he only had eyes for her. She was married. Already had a husband, one who would have married me if Angela hadn’t stolen him first.
“She married Charles, and then she stole Allen from me too.” Her bitter grief seemed to have frozen her tears, the woman unable to shed them. “She got pregnant with Cash, and I was never sure who the father was. I had no idea she’d carried on her affair with Allen for so long. My husband had died, and Allen and I were in love.”
“Why didn’t he marry you?”
“Because, you dumb shit, he was married to someone else. Rachel Wilson-Smith, of the hotel magnate Wilsons. He married money, a lot of it. But he loved Angela, was obsessed with her. And she knew it would crush Charles if he knew. So she kept Allen a secret, even from me. But Allen couldn’t stay away. We took consolation from each other, each of us mourning lovers we could never have. And then she had you, another mistake.”
Once that would have crushed him, but Smith was coming to realize the circumstance of his birth didn’t matter.
“She had you here, you know, so Charles and the boys wouldn’t find out. I couldn’t have a baby, so she gave you to me. A gift.” She snorted. “Please. You were hers and his. Not mine. Never mine. And the funny thing is, he never knew. He thought you were his and mine.”
Smith had wondered.
“He would visit, help me out with child support in cash, so his wife wouldn’t find out. And then he stopped coming. Just stopped, though the checks continued to arrive like clockwork.” Her eyes shone. “No more contact with Allen Smith.” Meg sighed. “I think maybe he knew you were his and hers. But I could never tell. And your paternity didn’t matter in bed. He wanted me there, not her. Just me.” She no longer sounded angry but dispassionate. Detached from it all.
“Jealousy and infidelity. You should be so proud.” Smith shook his head. “The sad thing is, you’re all alone now. You have no one.”
“I don’t need anyone. Never have, never will.”
“You know, I feel sorry for you. I never thought I would, but I do.”
“Screw you.” She looked almost scared.
“I would have loved you and taken care of you. I would have helped you find some peace. We could have found it, together. But you ruined all that.” You almost ruined me. “I’ll move your things for you. I brought a moving van and a team.” He paused. “My family. We’ll move your things into your new home.”
“I’m dying. It’s an assisted living facility for the sick. Happy now?”
“Are you?” he asked softly.
Her lips trembled. So bitter. So alone. “I’ll be in my room. Move all this, and we’re done. I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”
“You won’t,” he promised.
It was a somber crew who moved Meg’s things. Smith took one last look at her before he le
ft her house, the frail old woman sitting in a rickety chair in her otherwise bare room, staring at a photograph he couldn’t make out and didn’t want to.
They dropped off her things, setting up her new room with a care he’d have said she didn’t deserve. Erin watched him, nodding. Understanding. “This is for you. Not for her.”
He did right by Meg at the end. Then he left and didn’t look back.
* * *
They regrouped at Cash’s house, joined by Kenzie, Daniel, Naomi, and Jordan. Laughter and music filled the air, the house no longer Angela’s but a place full of joy and new beginnings.
Smith and Cash sequestered themselves in a spare room with some butt-ugly wallpaper full of puke-green vines and tacky little flowers.
Cash saw him looking at it and sighed. “I know. It’s a work in progress.”
“Good. I thought maybe you liked it this way.”
Cash grunted, and while Smith opened the envelope and looked through the handwritten letter, Cash held up his hands. “Well, fucknut? Read it out loud. I’m not a mind reader.” Cash gestured to the letter.
Smith took his time, deliberately annoying his older brother.
“I hate you.” Cash grinned, not meaning it.
Smith grinned. “Not as much as I hate you, dickbag.” Then cleared his throat and read the letter out loud:
Riley,
By the time you read this letter, I’m sure I’ll be gone. If I know Meg, she’ll make sure we never meet out of spite. And that’s okay. Because she’s due. If I was more of man, I’d have searched you out already. Instead, I know what I know of you from your aunt.
I truly loved your mother. I always thought you might be mine, but I could never be sure. And Meg made sure to murky the waters.
She’ll tell you things. But you need to know you’re so much better than those you come from. I fell in love with Angela the day I met her. Unfortunately, we were both married to other people.
Life is funny sometimes. Your mother didn’t want to hurt Charles. I didn’t want to hurt Rachel. No matter what Meg might have told you, it was never about money. Rachel was a gentle soul, and I couldn’t bear to hurt her. But my love for Angela—your mother—was so real, so visceral, I couldn’t deny it.