SACRED (The Kingwood Series Book 3) Page 8

  I glare his way.

  My mother walks in with Liza. Matty, Fredrick, and myself stand. My mother looks pleased to see me. I’m undecided about being here. I’m giving it a chance, but my fuse is shorter tonight.

  I see acceptance in my mother’s eyes, and maybe in Liza’s too. Adding that to Paige’s heartfelt welcome, I see something I’ve avoided. I never think I need anyone until I’m in a situation that reminds me that I can’t live a loner’s life and be happy. It feels good to be wanted. Dove comes to mind. Wonder what she’s doing tonight. Anticipation builds for tomorrow when I get to see her again. Is it too soon to have these feelings? I just met her, but damn she’s got my mind all twisted and me thinking about her more than I probably should.

  “John?”

  I look to my mother, who’s sitting next to me. “Yes?”

  “Thank you for coming over.”

  “I’m glad to be here.”

  Our wine glasses are filled and the first course is delivered when my father breezes in. We stand automatically once again, little soldiers trained to respect our drill sergeant.

  “Son,” he greets me with a firm handshake. “Glad you can stop by. I know you’re usually too busy for family.” Dig. Oh the irony.

  “Senator,” I reply, shaking his hand.

  I almost don’t recognize him. His collar is open, no tie around his neck, the top button undone and no suit coat. The salt and pepper hair is loose, as if the gel couldn’t hold back this good mood. Looking down, I’m dressed more conservatively than him. That’s a first.

  He sits at the head of the table, between Fredrick and Liza. Pecking order. My mother sits next to me at the head of this end of the table. Or maybe her seat is tails.

  It doesn’t take long for conversation to get heated. So many opposing views and struggles for attention that it was bound to happen at some point. I just thought we’d get through the meal first.

  Paige sits across from me and I catch her smiling.

  Setting my fork down, I lean in to whisper, “I know what you’re doing.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “You’re reading my aura or some New Agey thing where you try to figure out what’s going on in my head.”

  Fairies would be jealous of her melodious laughter. “If you’d share more of your life, I wouldn’t have to guess or use New Age techniques to figure it out.”

  “You love the challenge.” My sister comes off crazy, but she’s pretty good at this stuff. “So, what do you see?”

  “I’m not a psychic, but your aura is yellow. You can’t hide it. You exude it. Care to share why you’re so yellow today?”

  “Yellow means?”

  Paige has caught my mother’s attention as well as the rest of the table. Conversation ceases while my sister spins the wine glass between her fingers. She doesn’t like attention and my family can be intimidating, but her smile is too wide to hide. “Energy. Intelligence. Happiness. A new awakening. Optimistic. Are you feeling inspired, brother?”

  I don’t buy-in. Not yet. Everything I say can be used against me. Not by Paige, but by my oldest brother and father. Paige urges, “Come on. Tell me if I’m right or wrong?”

  “You’re more right than wrong. Happy?”

  “The most happy.” Her hand flies out, her finger pointing at me as she laughs in delight. “I knew it. You can’t hide your happiness. It’s shining from the inside.”

  Chuckling, I reach for my glass of water before I notice everyone at the table staring at me. My smile falls fast, tucked away for safety. “What?”

  Matty says, “It’s good to see you laugh. It’s been a long time.”

  “So I keep hearing.”

  My mother’s hand covers mine. “It’s good to see you’re recovering. I’m not sure how you recover from being kidnapped and . . .” She looks around uncomfortably. When her eyes land back on mine, she adds, “It’s just good to see you.”

  Seeing a crack in her normally austere exterior is shocking. She basically told me what I’ve been wanting to hear for years. They may have cut me off financially years ago, but they did it to all their kids. I wasn’t singled out in that way, but I felt alone all the same. “It’s good to see you too, Mom.” The name feels foreign coming off my tongue, but maybe I am more yellow these days.

  There are worse things to be than optimistic.

  She smiles and when it reaches her eyes, I see how truly lovely she is. I turn my hand up so our hands are holding, and for a few seconds while the others pick up their conversations where they were left off, we bond—mother and son. And this? I know this has been lacking. For me. But in seeing love in her eyes, it’s as if one shackle of many that have bound me is releasing, and it does actually give me hope. Maybe I can be someone who can love . . . love someone as good as my Dove.

  After dessert is served, everyone returns to the living room. Spread out around the room, the usual suspects congregate. Safety in numbers and all that. Matty, Paige, and myself on one side. Liza and Fredrick on the other. My father in his wingback, and my mother stands by the window looking out into the gardens. The gardens aren’t vast like at the Kingwood manor, but they’re well cared for and impressive. I walk around the sofa and join her. Although tonight has been unexpected and pleasant, my soul is still unsettled.

  Ending my relationship with Celeste helped calm a small storm, but the bigger one is still brewing.

  Do I have a place in this world? Where? Where do I belong? Who do I belong to?

  As if reading my mind, her smile wanes. “I’m here for you, son.” She releases a hard breath as if a burden’s been taken off her shoulders. “Let’s have tea and I’ll get you a copy of the file we received from the adoption agency.”

  “I’d like that. Thanks.”

  Her whole expression lightens up, making her appear even younger. “I’d like that, too, but I do have to tell you, so your hopes aren’t too high.” My body tenses. “Your mother and father are not listed in the file. The address of where you were found—”

  “Found?”

  “Yes, you were found in a basket on the steps of a church.”

  A basket? At a church?

  Trying to process what she just said, I can’t. This information seems all wrong. That’s not me.

  I was that bad of a baby that I was dumped on some steps somewhere? I turn away and look at my family. Nothing feels right. Ten minutes ago I thought I didn’t belong here, didn’t fit in, but now I feel like a complete outsider.

  When I look at my mother, she says, “I’m sorry. That’s all I remember, but I’ll get you the file.”

  Paige is there by my side, her hand on my back. “What’s wrong?”

  My stomach twists.

  I shouldn’t have asked. I should have just appreciated what I had. Instead I’ve opened a wound that I didn’t know I even had. The truth is gushing out and there’s no tourniquet to stop it. I rub my temple, and reply, “Nothing’s wrong.”

  My mother adds, “Don’t worry, honey. Everything’s okay.”

  “Why are you upset, Cruise?”

  Hearing the name I prefer snaps me out of the spinning catastrophe of my thoughts. “I need to leave.” I start to make my way to the front door, but I don’t make it far.

  Fredrick has to claw his way in even when he’s not welcome, maybe especially then. “Where do you have to run off to? I heard through the grapevine that Celeste raised her standards and is no longer taking your calls.”

  My father adds his commentary to a situation he knows nothing about, “That’s too bad. She’s a beautiful girl.”

  The compliment throws me, and it takes me a moment to work out why. Have I ever heard him refer to anyone, much less a woman other than my mother, as beautiful? Not Liza. Not Paige. Has he even called my mother beautiful?

  But here he is calling Celeste beautiful.

  She’s a beautiful girl.

  Fredrick stands.

  Just like I do.

  He knows.


  And yet he tried to fuck with me about Celeste. Here. Now. In front of our mother.

  What the fuck?

  I want to say it, to expose the meaning behind his simple comment. I can’t. I won’t do that to my mother or to Paige. Not Matty, or even Liza who seems to be caught watching the tennis match between us.

  Holy fucking shit.

  My mother is about to ask something, most likely something she doesn’t want the real answer to, so I announce, “I’ve met someone.”

  11

  Cruise

  I hate that I’ve brought her into this house, even if it’s just verbally. She was my secret.

  My Dove.

  My yellow.

  Now she’s exposed.

  My family will chew this information up and spit it out as if she’s disposable. Exposing myself is one thing, but exposing her sets us both up. Fuck.

  “Who?” Fredrick asks with disgust rolling off his tongue.

  Paige is the opposite. She bounds to her feet. “You are? Who is the lucky girl?” She gives me too much credit.

  “It’s new.”

  My sister laughs of pure joy. “That explains your aura. She’s good for you, Cruise.”

  “For God’s sake, stop calling him that,” my father snaps.

  Shooting him a look, Paige says, “Daddy. John is happy. This would be a good time for you to support him.”

  She’s the only one who can speak to the Senator like that and get away with it. There’s something innately good in Paige. It’s almost like she’s adopted too. She’s not. She’s a spitting image of my mother when my mom was Paige’s age. My father says Paige is like his sister. Other than the no good comments, he says his sister could charm a starving man out of a free dinner she had such a way with words. It’s always been a weird analogy, but we got the point.

  “I’m out of here.” For some reason my feet don’t move. I don’t know what I expect from him, but it seems like I deserved more than this.

  The Senator rubs his neck as if an imaginary tie is strangling him. “Bring her around. Let’s meet the girl that’s so special that the youngest needs to make a spectacle of the night.”

  I laugh. Shaking my head, I am once again reminded that I can never win. Not with him. Not in this family. “You’re a real asshole, Senator.” Refusing him the privilege of the title “father.” Wow, that felt better than I thought it would. All those years these feelings have festered, leading to this moment. I look at Fredrick and still at the sight of his smug expression. The fucker is just as fucked up as the Senator. Assholes.

  Not running, I still find myself alone as I exit and walk across the circular drive. Paige reaches me before I grab my helmet. “Don’t leave mad.”

  Looking at her, I realize how hard she’s always tried, but for what? Why? I’m okay walking away from most of them. Matty and Paige are different though. “I’m not mad, Paigey. I’m done trying. I’m done trying to please them. It’s never going to happen. I’m just done.”

  “He loves you.”

  “Then he should be telling me instead of you having to tell me.”

  “John, wait.” We turn toward the door. My mother walks down the steps and across the drive.

  When I look at my mother, considering all the good she has done in her life, the idea of the Senator cheating on her with a woman more than half his age makes my chest hurt for her. Actually, it makes me furious. The man is more than an asshole. He’s a hypocrite and bastard. She deserves better, but sadly, will probably never leave. Appearances and all. I need to accept that she is an adult and has to own this. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know I was disrespectful and I’ll apologize to you, but I won’t to him. We’ll never see eye to eye—”

  Her hand touches my forearm. “And that’s okay. You and your father are nothing alike. All I ever wanted was for you to be able to find your own happiness. This woman may be new to your life, but seeing you happy makes me happy.” She embraces me. “Ignore him, John. Follow your own path. Find what makes you want to wake up in the morning.”

  Find a woman that makes you smile.

  Alex’s words come back as I hug her, the sentiment the same. “I love you.”

  “I love you, son.” She turns and goes inside without another word.

  Paige says, “You are loved. I know you don’t feel it, but you are.” She hugs me quick and then dashes back to the house. Calling from the porch, she adds, “I’m going to call you soon and make you tell me all your secrets.”

  Sliding my helmet on, I lift the visor. “You call me and I’ll tell you some of my secrets.”

  “I’ll take it. Drive safe, little brother.”

  I give her a nod before I climb onto my bike. Once I exit the property, I fly down the road. It feels good to be back on the bike. Just me. Just the road. Freedom. The shackles of life fall off. I only focus on the journey ahead, letting my past slide away to deal with another day.

  If this were a few months ago, I would text Celeste and head over. That it’s so easy not to text her reaffirms that ending it with her was the right thing to do. If we weren’t, thinking about the Senator with her would end it anyway.

  It’s tempting to text Clara, but that’s not how we’re going to start this relationship. Anyway, I have a dinner to plan. That’s what I should do when I get home. Like the road, she gives me something to focus on that’s healthier for my mind and body. Still doesn’t mean I’m not thinking of those little white panties.

  The sweet smell she hides between her legs—her own lust covering the cotton. Her desire for me. The memory causes my dick to ache for relief.

  Fuck.

  Once I reach the penthouse, I head straight for the shower with a throbbing cock in hand.

  Stepping under the water, it’s not even hot, but the warmth will do. The shower covers my back as I lean one hand high on the cold tile and the other takes hold of my hard dick. I start a slow stroke with a tight grip. The water helps my hand slide with ease, and deep inside, the coil starts tightening. Images of Dove beneath me, my mouth on her and how good she smelled and tasted winds me too tight to last.

  “Dove.” Her name comes like a swear word, fogging the glass in front of me as I shoot streams across the tile. My breaths are heavy, but satisfaction is found. I remain under the water, letting it beat down on my tired muscles.

  When I fall into bed, I grab my phone. The mystery of the girl who equally intrigues me and turns me on is on my mind so often that I type Clara Eckerd into the search box. My finger hovers over the search button just like it has so many other times, but I don’t push it. There’s something about her that makes me want to discover every inch of her with her.

  God, I can’t wait until tomorrow night.

  “Six on the dot. You’re very punctual.” Clara extends her arm above her head while holding the door open. Unabashedly, my eyes travel the lines of her body. Damn, she’s going to do me in. I foresee an early grave with her looking so utterly gorgeous with her brown hair falling in soft curls past her shoulders and light makeup that lets her natural beauty shine through. “Come in.”

  When she moves to the side, I walk in with two bags in my hands, but stop in front her and lean in. She’s already got me figured out. Her head tilts to the side giving me the access she knows I want. My eyes close when my lips meet her skin.

  She stands still, but whispers, “You’re very affectionate.” She doesn’t giggle like most women who bat their eyelashes for attention. No, it’s like the early stages of dating have long since passed for us despite the short time. I find comfort in her smile, the mutual connection extended between us.

  These damn groceries are filling my arms, but if they weren’t, I’d spend seconds, minutes, days of our lives appreciating her delicate neck and collarbone. She makes it impossible to resist her. “You’re very enticing.”

  “You’re so open.” The door closes and I hear her behind me as we go to the kitchen. “Do you always say what you think?”

  “It’s not
what I think, Dove. It’s what I feel.” I set the bags on the small butcher-block island in the center of the kitchen. Catching her eyes on me, I give her a smile. Not just for show, like I’ve done for so many others, but because I feel it inside. Yellow. “I don’t always say everything that comes to mind, but I do say what I mean. Life’s too short to rattle about bullshit that doesn’t matter.” She smiles as she starts unpacking the bags, and I nudge her with my elbow. “What are you smiling about?”

  “You. This. Is it weird that I like when you use swear words? You say them with abandon as if there’s no repercussion.”

  “There isn’t. Fuck. Shit. Damn. Look, nothing happened. Did you used to get in trouble for swearing?”

  The smile doesn’t fade. It vanishes altogether. A darkness comes over her features as she stares at a can in her hand. I ask, “What’s wrong?”

  Her bottom lip is tugged under her top teeth, worrying it. “We weren’t allowed to swear growing up. It was considered a sin against God, and disrespectful to my father.”

  “Did he swear?”

  When she looks up, her eyes are glassy. “All the time, but at us. He hated us.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t. He was probably just mad, right?”

  I watch her carefully. When a tear slips down her cheek, I move in front of her and take her face between my hands. With my thumb, I wipe that tear away. “Don’t cry. I won’t swear at you. Okay? I promise.”

  “My mom said I’m making up for lost time, rushing into a relationship, rushing into you. Too much too soon. But it doesn’t feel that way to me. It’s as if your soul is speaking to mine. Arms wide open, saying, ‘I see you, the real you that you hide from others and I accept you.’”

  Whoa. This got heavy fast, but as I look at her, I think I feel the same. “That’s how you feel about me?” Please say yes. Please don’t let this be one-sided.

  Nodding, she looks down as if embarrassed. I tilt her chin so I can see her pretty eyes. “What’s happening between us is real. I feel it, too.”