Chapter 25 #2
That thing inside me that I was born with that good people aren’t, I’ve figured out how to keep it beneath my skin, not to let it out, and to blend in with the crowd.
“So this is a reminder that nothing is worth more than my freedom,” I tell her. “And I won’t lose it again.”
There isn’t anything in this world that could send me back to prison.
I’d die first.
Lexi rolls over, unwrapping herself from my hold and turning so we’re face to face, those gorgeous eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them before.
“I took a loan for the business that I didn’t disclose on the grant application. Rory found out about it and is obligated to report it, and I’m losing the funding.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Didn’t take you for a white-collar crime kinda girl,” I say, almost impressed.
She laughs, shoving my shoulder in a way she probably thinks is hard. “Don’t make jokes,” she says, sobering up.
“You were the owner all along?” I ask.
She nods, hand under her head of curls that drape over her arm.
“You were who I was meeting for the interview?” I ask.
“Until you called me ‘gardener girl’,” she says, eyes sparking with challenge.
“You looked hot getting dirty on your knees. Forgive me for thinking you did it for a living.”
“Rory made me hire you,” she whispers, like it’s a confession.
“She’s got her moments,” I say with a smile.
“Not right now.”
“Is that what’s going on between you?” My eyes narrow on hers.
“Part of it.” She shrugs a shoulder, nodding as best she can in that pose. “She left town when we were in our twenties. Overnight, skipped out. Never reached out or came back again, not ’til our mom got terminal cancer three years ago.”
Try to keep my face neutral, keep it from pulling, so I don’t make this harder on her. Losing your mom is something I know too much about.
Lexi continues. “Came back to spend time with Mom before she passed. Ended up getting back with Wyatt and staying.”
I remember when she stopped coming into the bodega. Assumed she’d moved to a new block or gotten mugged or something.
“But even after what we went through with losing our mom, she still hasn’t talked to our dad since she left all those years ago. She can’t forgive him for what he did to our family, and I think she’s a fucking hypocrite for it, and I’ve let her know in no uncertain terms.”
I smile, huffing out half a laugh, and swiping her cheek. “I bet you have. There’s probably scorch marks on her fancy dress from all that fire you breathed on her.” I pinch her cheek. “My little dragon.”
She swats my hand away, scowling. “Then she found out Dad is who gave me the money for the diner. After we had a blowup on Mom’s birthday, it was a whole thing. And now I lost my mom, what’s left of the rest of my family, and the restaurant.”
Her eyes start to water, but she pinches the bridge of her nose to stem the tears.
I pull her into me, head buried in my chest, and hold her until I feel her take a deep breath, and then I let her loose again.
“I don’t want to leave you, Lex,” I tell her, even though she didn’t include me in that list. “That email I sent to management was me looking for a reason to stay.”
She nods quickly but takes her time responding. “I wish I could give you a reason to.”
I want to tell her she’s enough for me, I don’t need the restaurant to stay. But I don’t want to scare her away.
This vulnerability is new and spooking her would ruin it all. She’s got enough on her plate, feeling shackled to me, like she has to find placement for me in the Heights, it’s more than she needs right now.
“My old bosses, they offered me my own fine dining restaurant back in New York.” I don’t call it home.
Her mouth pops open just a fraction and I watch the news settle into her. “I can’t compete with that,” she says. “It sounds like your dream. Salt + Spice.”
“Doesn’t it?”
I’m not so sure anymore.
“You should take it,” she whispers.
“They don’t need an answer yet,” I tell her. “Let’s see how everything shakes out here first. Is there anything I can do to help with the café?”
She shakes her head. “Rory is trying to find a way to save it, but I was the only one who stepped up before and I don’t think anyone else is going to swoop in now.”
Lexi rolls over, burying her head in her hands so her voice is muffled when she speaks again. “Plus, I’ve been such a bitch to her about losing our mom, and I just can’t forgive her for leaving and forget it all. I can’t believe she even wants to help me at this point.”
“Hey,” I say gently, pulling on one arm until she brings her face back up. “Grief and trauma are individual battles. No one can tell you you’re doing it wrong. I lost my mom at twenty-one, and I’m still not okay.”
Her lips push into a pout. “Were you close?”
“She’s the best woman I ever knew. Losing her was the final nail for me in getting out of my old life.”
“I can’t imagine,” she whispers. “I had mine until I was thirty-five and it almost broke me.”
“You were lucky to get all that time with her.” I don’t hide the jealousy in my voice.
It’s not acidic, just perspective. If the perspective from someone who didn’t get any time as an adult with their own mother helps her appreciate it, then good.
“Last time I got to spend a day with her was when I was seventeen.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I shrug. “Some people have shitty parents. I’m lucky I had good ones, I guess. Even if I only had ’em for twenty years.”
Lexi rolls onto her back, battling with whatever is going on in her head.
“She just pisses me off so much!”
“Your mom?”
“My sister. Like she’s so much fucking better than everyone.”
“Do you really think that?”
“I did when she first came back.” She takes a heavy breath, the silence sinking in through the car.
A rush of wind and a rumble of the vehicle tell me someone just passed us for the first time since we’ve been out here.
Lexi shrugs, head dipping down. “I might’ve told her I’ll never trust that she’s going to stay. Said some pretty harsh things.”
This woman who feels abandoned by everyone, she’s been hurt so deep that she lashes out at the people she cares about. Maybe it’s in retaliation, or maybe in an effort to push people away before they can leave her. Possible it’s both.
She needs an outlet for her anger, and she needs to know she’s not going to get rid of me for letting it out.
I roll over, letting my body lay heavily on top of hers, pinning her in place, elbows framing her face, knees on the outside of hers, hips touching. Staring into her earthen eyes, I make sure she doesn’t miss my words.
“Don’t push her away. If you need to lash out at someone, lash out at me. I can take it. You won’t push me away, no matter how hard you try.”
Because she’s a brat, she shoves at my shoulder with one hand, physically pushing me away, and I encircle her wrist with mine and hold her in place. Her eyes soften, some of those barriers that tried to spring back up falling right back down.
“You’re the kind of woman I crave.”
Her hips shift beneath me, that fire returning to her gaze as she watches me hungrily, much more comfortable with this territory.
I drop her wrist, running my fingers over her face, that mark on her temple, down to her throat, and I keep going.
“Gorgeous, fierce, full of fire, with an appetite that matches mine.”
Her lower lip sinks between her teeth, and I don’t even think she knows she does it.
“You deserve someone who can handle every part of you.”
Shifting my hips, I let her feel what she does to me and savor it when her eyelids droop in response.
“And that’s you?” she asks, voice husky.
“You fuckin’ bet. You need someone who lights that fire in you, not puts it out.”
“You the man for the job?” Her tone is teasing, and it makes me even harder.
Brow raised, I ask, “Need me to keep proving it to you?” Nothing would make me happier.
“Show me what you got,” she whispers, watching my mouth lower but never quite come down on hers.
“How about I feed you this cock inch by inch and remind you why it’s me you’re with.”
Alexis Weiss might not show her emotions too often, but I see past her bravado to what’s underneath.
And when I fuck her again, I make sure it’s slow and deliberate, keeping her eyes on mine the whole time so she can see I’m the only man for the job, when it comes to her.
Eventually, around the time the sun is fucking off for the day, we make it to her sister’s. Lexi’s flushed face might give us away if the sky were brighter, but it’s the way she struggles to walk without bowlegs tonight that’s probably gonna do it.
Slapping a possessive hand down to her hip—partially to help her walk straight, mostly just because it’s the first time she’s let me claim her in public, in front of her friends and family—I carry a few trays in my other arm as we head into the clearing in between the two Grady properties where the bonfire is being held.
Hollered greetings fall all around us as I drop off the hotel pans on the table set up for the food, but I don’t leave Lexi’s side. Someone else can unload the car.
She might not have said it out loud, but the more time I get to spend around her, the less she needs to vocalize for me. Lexi needs me with her tonight. She’s too raw for another heated confrontation with her sister, or for more reminders about what’s at stake.
A night where she feels normal might go a long way though.
Gracie comes over first, giggling—already tipsy, by the looks of it—and grasps Lexi’s face in her hands, nuzzling their noses.
They start talking and I grab the chance to take in the rest of the setup. The quick lay of the land I took as we pulled up, the initial scout for threats, exits, that old habit will never go away.
But this time, my eyes search for familiar faces, Ronnie and Wyatt—the sources of the laughter ringing out all around us—and they absorb the radiant smiles of Weston and Amelia huddled together by the fire.
The grandparents—Duke, Virginia, probably her husband by the looks of it, and Billie—sit around the other side of the roaring fire, keeping warm beneath several blankets.
Rory bounces her sleeping daughter on her shoulder near the others, and I give her a quick nod with my chin.
The worry on her face, it’s that gut-clenching kind that’s only ever for someone you love. Nobody looks that sick to their stomach over their own fates.
I try to tell her with my nod that her sister is okay. Or she will be. She’s with someone who’ll make sure of it.
The raucous laughter of my favorite woman brings my eyes back to the ladies at my side. Gracie is peeking closer at Lexi’s temple, and she’s shaking her head to let her hair fall back over the battle wound.
“Nothing,” she whispers fiercely, feeling my smirking gaze on her.
“Have you been drinking wine?” Gracie sniffs the air between them.
“She had some grapes on the way here,” I answer, the world’s biggest smile on my face.