Chapter 44
Sleeping with June in my arms is damn near the best feeling in the world.
I cannot get over how good it feels to hold her. She doesn’t wake until eleven, but I’ve been up for hours. Too wired still, I guess. When she stirs in my arms, I lean back a little to give her room. She smiles up at me, and it’s like the sun is shining on my heart. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she says sleepily. And then her stomach growls like a beast, and she giggles.
“Think you can eat this time?”
She nods, still smiling.
“I’ll be right back. You stay put.”
“Shouldn’t I be waiting on you? You’re a guest?—”
I laugh so suddenly that it takes the wind out of me a little. “June. You were kidnapped. Let me get you breakfast.”
“Well, when you put it that way …”
Shaking my head at that crazy woman, I jog to her kitchen and work on heating the breakfast we ignored earlier. When she was taken, I truly was in hell. But now that she’s here, I’m happy. Genuinely happy. Going from one extreme to the other is dizzying.
I deliver our breakfast in bed and sit near the end to give her space. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Not yet.”
I nod once, having expected that answer. It had surprised me that she wanted me in bed with her last night. I thought for certain she would change her mind or have some sort of trauma-induced panic attack and wake up screaming. But she didn’t. She’s stronger than I give her credit for, and I promise to myself to stop underestimating her.
Since I’d expected her to say no, I had come up with some unrelated questions to keep her occupied. “Do you think your upbringing affected your perspective on law?”
She laughs. “Is this your idea of a casual chat?”
“What’s wrong with my question?”
“Sounds like a job interview.”
I chuckle. “Admittedly, that’s where I got the idea from.”
She giggles around a bite of syrupy waffle. “Ah. Well, it’s not a terrible question. And I think everything in your upbringing affects the rest of your life. Your career, your politics, it’s all shaped by your childhood. For instance, I grew up poor, so I have a soft spot in my heart for the needy.”
“Yet you work for the very wealthy.”
“The needy can’t pay my school loans.”
I smile at that, even though the reminder stings. Can’t ignore that elephant in the room, either. “Working on getting the money thing settled, by the way.”
June laughs with exuberance. “God, I haven’t even thought about that in the past day. I mean, not really. Funny. It was all I could think of before some guy stuck a knife to my throat.”
A surge of rage floods through me, like my body thinks the guy is here right now. But I bank it for later. “Thought we weren’t talking about that now.”
“We’re not. Just … funny how perspective changes in the blink of an eye.”
She is more right than she knows. This whole incident has shifted my perspective on a lot of things. “Very true. I’m not sure I want the CEO seat at work. Not after all of this.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“I won’t make my future family pay for my mistakes. Not in any way.”
“That’s smart of you. But I think everyone pays for the mistakes of the generation before it, no matter what you do.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t mitigate the possibilities of what that payment might look like.” I scrub my hand over my face and try not to make her talk about things while talking about them. Maybe we can just keep talking around it until she’s ready. “If I can make my children’s lives safer, my wife’s life safer, then that’s what I’ll do. If that means abandoning the C-suite, I’ll do it. Or leaving the company entirely, I’ll do it. I don’t care about the company. I care about my family.”
She smiles mischievously. “You don’t have any of those things yet.”
“But I will. I want that more than anything.” I want you more than anything.
June sighs. “You don’t know what it’s like to live without money and access and connections, Anderson. It’s easy to say you’d leave all that behind, but in practice, it would be far harder than you think.”
“I’m sure you’re right about that. But I’d be willing to try.” To keep you safe.
“What do you think your upbringing taught you about the law?”
I smile and sigh. “A lot of the technical. Dad was big on me learning about the law from a young age. He molded me as a boy to follow in his footsteps … but I never wanted to. It was a destiny decided by others. Nothing more.”
She sets her waffle down and looks at me. “What would you do if you weren’t a lawyer?”
The question makes my mind go blank, and I laugh. “You mean, what did I actually want to be when I grew up?”
She nods.
It’s a fair question. But it’s also an impossible one. “I don’t rightly know. I was never given the option of being anything else.”
June smiles. “Well, think about it and get back to me.”
I grin. “Maybe a househusband.”
She laughs sharply. “What?”
“I’m still young enough to be a trophy husband, and I could marry some rich, powerful woman, and raise our babies and?—”
“And lose your mind from the boredom.”
I laugh. “Yeah, okay. Not a serious thought, but now that I think about it, it doesn’t sound half bad.”
“Better than rescuing damsels in distress?”
“I would prefer my damsels were never in distress in the first place.”
She sighs. “Yeah. Me too.”
And we’re back to this. But the truth of it is, I don’t mind talking about what happened. I want her to talk about it. If not to me, then to someone. She went through something no one should ever go through. “Eh, June?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want me to call someone for you? Your mom or a friend or a therapist or?—“
She laughs and grabs at her waffle again. It’s slick with butter and syrup and seems to elude her fingers. “A therapist?”
“To help you process everything.”
“No, but thank you. And not the others, either. Might be dangerous for them to know about this.”
I shrug. “I know, but I don’t care about them. I care about you. If talking to them makes you feel better, then?—”
“I won’t put anyone else at risk, Anderson. You’re sweet for suggesting it, but no. No one else should be in on this.”
“You don’t always have to be strong.”
She gives a whimpering laugh. “You think I’m strong? I’m barely feeding myself a fucking waffle.”
I pick up the waffle bite and hold it up. She surprises me when she eats it out of my fingers—I’d thought to hand it over. Her slick, sweet lips on my finger sends an ache through me. “Yes, you’re strong. After everything you went through, and you’re making complete sentences? That’s strong.”
She smiles and looks away. “I got into the shower in my clothes last night because I couldn’t bear to take them off and forgot I had them on by the time I talked myself into going under the water.”
“And you still did it. You’re struggling, and that is strength. Weakness is giving up, and I’m pretty sure that’s not in your vocabulary.”
When she meets my gaze, I’m sunk. I know I am. This woman is in my fiber. “Thanks, Anderson. I think I needed to hear that.”
My throat is dry from holding in everything I want to tell her, and I rasp out, “Anytime.”
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