CHAPTER 13
C HAPTER 13
B y silent agreement, Marlow and Cort decided to have dinner with Pixie rather than leave her alone. She’d made them both proud, but anyone who knew her could see that it had cost her to confront Aston that way.
He wasn’t just Dylan’s father, he was an affluent man of power, and he’d been incredibly ugly to Pixie. His offer to buy her off, the equivalent of hush money, had been an insult, a clear indication that he thought she was lying about Andy. Would he not even consider the possibility that the baby was his grandson?
Well, he had mentioned a paternity test, so maybe he had doubts.
Cort was being extra gentle with Pixie, his protectiveness in full force, and Marlow loved it.
Later, when she had him alone, she’d mention how much she appreciated his emotional support, while politely explaining that she could take care of herself. She couldn’t recall Dylan ever standing up for her like that, but then, it had never been required. The only angry men Marlow had ever faced were in boardrooms negotiating massive deals with execs and assistants present, and more recently, Dylan and his hateful lawyer.
Not to pat herself on the back, but she’d always held her own.
As Marlow pondered, she walked back and forth with Andy so that Pixie could get some baby supplies together before joining them at Cort’s house.
Then she spotted the sketches. “Oh, wow.” She lifted the top sheet to look more closely. “Are these our fireflies?”
Cort cocked a brow. “Did you adopt some specific fireflies that I don’t know about?”
“You know what I mean. Bramble fireflies.” She shot him a smile. “They’re special.”
Coming around the corner with a freshly loaded diaper bag, Pixie caught her looking at the sketches and flushed bright pink.
Her reaction prompted Marlow to give the sketches closer scrutiny. “These are stunning. Where did you find them, Pixie?”
“I, um . . .” She practically shuffled her feet. “I did them.”
“You did them?”
“Drew them, I mean. Sketched. Quickly.” She hurried toward the back door to get her shoes.
“No way.” Marlow tilted the paper so Cort could better see as he looked over her shoulder. “They’re incredible.” She went through a few more drawings, then noticed the stack of notes Pixie had compiled for prospective products. She’d certainly been busy! And better still, the items were exactly what Marlow had been looking for.
“Very nice,” Cort agreed. “You have real talent.”
“It’s just a simple sketch—with a little glowing butt.” Pixie inched closer, too. “I added your name.”
“I see.” Bouncing Andy a little, Marlow read aloud, “Marlow’s Whimsy.” She grinned at Cort. “Isn’t that clever?”
“What exactly do you plan to sell?”
“Pixie and I talked about it, and I’m thinking casual clothes like T-shirts, tanks and halters, maybe some loose, flowing skirts, sundresses, things like that. Summery clothes but also custom jewelry that’s affordable. Coffee mugs and sun hats.” The more products Marlow mentioned, the more she wanted. “Seasonal stuff for holidays and some kitschy things, like maybe coasters, little birdhouses. Oh! Maybe firefly houses.”
Getting into the spirit, Pixie said, “She’s talked about beaded pouches, pot holders, maybe custom puzzles made from photos of the sunset over the lake.”
Cort’s smile went crooked. “I think it all sounds great. And yeah, Marlow’s Whimsy is perfect.”
“Pixie, what you’ve done looks great, and I love that you incorporated a firefly. Could we use this as our logo?” Not giving her a chance to get flustered, Marlow said, “I’d pay you well.”
“What? No. I mean, sure, I made it for you, so you can do whatever you want with it. But it’s a gift. I can’t take money for it.”
“Of course, I’ll pay you.” Marlow couldn’t stop admiring the design. “I want you to create a few more, slightly different from this one, to use as prints to sell.”
“Great idea.” Cort took the diaper bag from Pixie. “Your work is worth something, and Marlow is a good businesswoman. You can trust her on this.”
“Of course I do! It’s just . . .” Now, with Aston gone, Pixie looked ready to cry, but they were happy tears. “You guys are the best.” She gave Colt a big squeeze, then without lifting her face, turned to do the same with Marlow, enclosing both her and Andy in the embrace.
Marlow heard her sniff and patted her back. “You’re going to be okay, Pixie.”
She nodded, looked up with a big smile and tears in her eyes, and laughed as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. “You know what? I finally believe it.”
* * *
Hours later, after a wonderful meal with wonderful people, Pixie felt stronger than she ever had. Amazing how standing up to a bully would do that. Seeing the disdain, the disbelief on Mr. Heddings’s face had made her want to shrivel up and die. She understood the man, because she’d often felt that same way about herself.
The thing was, she hadn’t set out to sleep with a married man.
She hadn’t planned on getting pregnant. Or sick.
She’d certainly never planned on needing charity.
Life had a way of throwing unwelcome surprise parties that could leave a person completely defeated.
Marlow claimed that everyone made mistakes, because everyone was flawed. She said Pixie had no business thinking she could avoid every pitfall, since no one in creation ever had. It was so funny how Marlow could be both assertive and compassionate, blunt but kind. She suggested that instead of beating herself up over mistakes, Pixie should move forward with determination to do better. And when she tripped, as she was likely to do, she should learn from the mistake and get going again.
Those suggestions seemed attainable. She could be a better person. A more independent woman. The best mother she was capable of being.
And she’d be a good friend, too.
It honestly wouldn’t have mattered if Mr. Heddings had offered her a million dollars. She owed Marlow her loyalty, and she owed Cort her appreciation.
She owed them so much, and all they expected was for her to do her best.
Careful not to wake Andy, she lowered him into his crib and changed his diaper.
Oh, to sleep the sleep of the innocent.
When she finished, she brushed her teeth and changed into loose shorts and an oversized T-shirt—her version of pajamas—and went out back to watch the sunset. Cort had told her that the most important day was today. She couldn’t change yesterday and didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, so she should put her all into today.
And she had. She was planning for a better future, trying her best, and she wanted to make the most of today.
Over steak and potatoes, a few laughs, a little worry, and amazing company, she’d enjoyed the day to the fullest. She didn’t feel like an interloper. She felt appreciated. She felt like family.
For the first time in a very long time, she liked herself.
* * *
Cort could feel Marlow gearing up. She was trying to be sly about it as they put away the dishes after taking Pixie home.
Home. The girl really did have a home now, regardless of where she actually wound up living. If she couldn’t stay in Bramble—though he was hoping she could—she’d still have Marlow, she’d still have him. That’s what home was all about. Not the building you lived in but the people in your life. The ones who filled you up and understood you, who questioned you and laughed with you. People who sometimes frustrated you but didn’t stop caring.
Pixie had that now. To Cort, she was like a little sister, only better, because he was better. He was in an emotional place where he could be the type of supportive big brother Pixie deserved. Marlow had gotten him there.
He’d always tried to show the town his appreciation, but now he accepted that living here meant more than that. It wasn’t just what folks had given his mother but what they’d given him, too. He loved Bramble, loved Marlow, and he loved Pixie and Andy as well. All different types of love that fed his soul, making him whole in a way he’d never been before.
As they finished up in the kitchen, Cort asked, “Something on your mind, Marlow?”
“Actually, yes.” She turned from the sink, her hands braced behind her, her look challenging. “This plan of yours. Are you going to tell me about it?”
Inside he smiled. Outside, too. Hell, he felt like smiling all the damn time lately. “How about you try trusting me, instead?”
“Dirty pool!” Huffing a laugh, she pushed away from the sink to confront him. “I do trust you, but I really want to know.”
It was the most natural thing in the world to pull her in close, hold her pressed against him in blood-heating ways, and to kiss her. “I’m a Marine,” he teased. “I use whatever tactics I need to.”
“Well, you were great with Pixie.” Slipping out of his hold but taking his hand, she led him around the house to double check the doors. “Are all Marines so nurturing?”
Putting a hand on her ass, he countered, “Are all businesswomen so sexy?”
She grinned over her shoulder at him. “You know what? With you, I feel sexy.”
He gave a low growl, nuzzled her neck until she giggled, then got her started up the stairs. Along the way, he did more teasing. Touching. Making suggestions that had her hurrying her steps.
In the bedroom, she pulled her shirt away from her body, fanning herself a little. “We sat outside and it’s been warm. Maybe I should shower real quick—”
Knowing he wouldn’t last that long, Cort backed her up to the bed. “Let’s shower after.” And he removed his shirt.
On a slow breath, she removed hers, too. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m completely sure—that you’re perfect.” Absolutely perfect—for him.
* * *
An hour later, physically relaxed, Cort turned his head toward Marlow. Her hair was spread wildly over the pillow, her skin dewy as she sighed, and he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his days like this, making love to Marlow, teasing her and planning the future. Watching her sleep and being with her when she woke up. Sharing sunrises and sunsets, fireflies, and life.
“Now I really need a shower.”
“You’re still perfect,” he said, meaning it.
She glanced over at him. “Do you think we could interrupt this pleasure coma for something a little more . . . serious?”
From one concern to another, Cort’s thoughts jumped around. Would she grill him on his plan to keep her in Bramble? Would she announce that she’d decided to move to Lankton? Was she concerned about Pixie? Concerned about something else?”
“Hey.” She grinned at him, then half crawled over his chest. “It’s not a big thing.”
“Okay.” So then what?
“With Aston and his goon . . . I appreciate that you were there. And I know I sort of used you as a threat.”
The way Marlow had said, so enticingly, that he didn’t have to behave had put caution in the other men’s eyes. Both Aston and his fancy-ass bodyguard had gone alert. Rightfully so. Of course, Cort knew Marlow wouldn’t want him jumping the gun and demolishing anyone. He wasn’t a loose cannon. The opposite. He was completely in control of himself. Except maybe where Marlow was concerned; from day one she’d kept him off kilter.
“I just want to make it clear,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware. You could take care of yourself, a business, and this entire town, and no doubt look hot doing it. Your point?”
Her lips twitched. “I love the way you see me. Before you, no one would ever have accused me of being sexy.”
“You hung around with a bunch of businessmen, right?” They might have been uptight and too polished to show it, but there was no way Cort would believe they’d been unaware of her earthy appeal. “Trust me, they saw it.”
“Before you,” she said again, “I’m not sure I’d have wanted anyone to think it. With you, I like it—a lot.” She smooshed a smiling kiss to his mouth. “The thing is, unless I specifically ask you to intervene—”
Whoa. He levered himself up to an elbow. “Don’t expect me to stand by, waiting for permission, when some asshole is threatening you, because that’s something I can’t do.”
“Cort!” Surprised by his language and his vehemence, she frowned. “There were no threats—”
“Bull.” He cupped her face. “I get that you were fine with your father-in-law. Totally trust your judgment on that. You know him, and people like him, in a way that I don’t.” In a way he never would. That kind of money and prestige were well out of his world. “But the guy who was with him? That dude I know. He was there to intimidate, and your father-in-law would have allowed it, because he’s the one who brought him along.”
“Hmm,” Marlow said in a thoughtful way. “You could be right—though I still think I could have handled him.”
God love her, the woman thought she was invincible. Honestly? He thought she might have handled the bodyguard, too—not physically, but with cutting intelligence that would have put the guy in his place. Only Cort wasn’t willing to risk it. “When it comes to someone like him, doesn’t matter if he’s a drunk who’s pissed himself or a guy in a thousand-dollar suit.” Cort kissed her soundly. “As a kid, I had to stand by and watch my mom get battered.” Just saying it still had the power to tighten his guts. “There’s no worse feeling in the entire world than seeing someone you care about going through that hell.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “I hadn’t thought of it from that perspective.”
Cort needed her to understand. “I won’t overstep, babe. You’ve got my promise on that. I don’t throw first punches, I don’t escalate situations. But when they start, you can bet your sweet ass I’ll finish them.”
Her eyes grew wider with each word he spoke. In a deliberate and obvious bid to lighten the mood, she said, “I’m glad you think my ass is sweet.”
He went along with that, cupping her lush behind in both hands and saying, “It’s the truth.”
Growing somber again, she nestled down against him. “It tortures me, thinking of what you went through as a kid.”
“No, don’t do that.”
Of course, she didn’t listen. “I can’t imagine how you must feel about it.”
Cort sighed, but here with Marlow, in the quiet evening, naked in bed together . . . talking about it didn’t seem as brutal as usual. “I used to hide in my closet and cover my ears. That’s what Mom taught me to do, always while promising that we’d get away soon. Only I knew she didn’t have anywhere to go. No family to help her, and she wasn’t allowed friends. Then one day I was brushing my teeth, looking at myself in the mirror, when he got home and started on her again. Just like that, I knew I couldn’t take it anymore.”
The kiss she pressed to his chest, right over his heart, encouraged him to keep going.
“I knew if I went down that road, it was going to be bad. He’d knocked me around before, but Mom would always step in. Even knowing she’d take a beating. She always protected me as much as she could.”
“How old were you?”
“That last time? Twelve. A big twelve, tall but scrawny . . .” He could recall that ordeal as if it was yesterday, all the emotions, fear and pain, desperation and horror, and ultimately, pride. “I did what I could, used what weapons I could find, like a bottle, a book, even a lamp.” Normally, remembering would be awful, and talking about it impossible. It was Marlow who made all the difference. “I hurt him. I know that, because he staggered, and God, he cursed up a storm. I think he planned to kill me, or at least hurt me as much as he could.”
She squeezed closer, and without her saying a word, he knew she was crying again. Amazing Marlow, the woman who only cried for others, never for herself.
“I caught him in the head with the lamp, and that did some damage. He started out drunk, but then he was disoriented, too.” The scene spread out in his mind, a bright, gruesome visual. “He was bleeding everywhere before he fell. Mom kept sobbing.” That had been the worst part. Her terror. Her uncertainty about what to do. “To this day, I can’t bear to hear a woman sobbing. It rips me apart.”
“I swear to never sob,” she said tearfully.
That vow prompted a small smile. Cort tipped up her face. “I swear to never give you reason to sob.” Using both thumbs, he brushed the tears from her cheeks. “But if you ever need to, for any reason at all, I’ll hold you. I’ll fix what I can for you, and otherwise just be there for you.”
Her lips trembled. “Thank you.”
“Do you know, you’re always thanking everyone?”
She dipped her chin in a small nod. “Because I appreciate all the wonderful people in my life, and Cort? You’re the one I appreciate the most.”
That vow sounded mighty sweet to him. He hoped she felt the same after the Wednesday meeting, because he was betting everything on it.
Smoothing her hand over his chest, she asked, “You and your mother got away then?”
“No. There were a few more beatings while she tried to save enough so we could. The thing is, I realized I preferred getting beaten to cowering. I felt a hell of a lot better facing my dad than standing back and being a victim or letting my mother face him alone. It wouldn’t be the same for everyone, I know that, but I learned that facing my problems head-on rather than trying to hide from them allowed me to like myself more.” Casually, as he spoke, he trailed his fingers through her hair, detangling it, smoothing it. Just enjoying touching her. “It wasn’t long before we were able to leave. Mom worried about everything, though. Would we have enough food, enough heat in the winter. Men. Strangers.” Those had been trying times. “We both worked.”
“At twelve?”
“You’d be surprised how much a motivated kid can do. Mom did housekeeping at a little roach-infested motel, and the owner paid me to get the trash from the public areas, to sweep the entrances, and keep the lot cleared. Every time he handed me an extra five bucks, it felt like a step forward. Occasionally, someone would order pizza and give me a slice.” He smiled, remembering how much he’d loved food back then. Like many boys his age, he’d been a bottomless pit. “Overall, it was tough, but sometimes an adventure. I learned a lot about myself.”
“You learned you wanted to be a Marine?”
“Real life heroes, that’s what they were to me. Then I signed on, and man, if you think I loved it all, you’d be wrong.” He didn’t say it, but becoming a Marine had carved him, taking him from a block of cement and turning him into steel. “I loved what it did to me, how it taught me so much. I enlisted with a lot of rage. I used to dream about finding my dad and taking him apart. Literally. That image in my mind was what got me through. Well, that and my mom. I’d always thought she was soft and frail, because Dad hurt her so easily and there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it.” Remembering that shamed him. “Now I realize she was the toughest woman I’ve ever known.”
“She had to be. And she had to have a huge heart, too. I think she must have loved you the way Pixie loves Andy.”
“Strongest thing in the world,” he agreed. “A mother’s love.”
Marlow smiled sadly. “A dad’s love is the same. I’m so sorry you never got to feel that.”
Cort didn’t mind saying, “Herman is close. I have massive respect for him. Gratitude, too. He represents the best parts of this town. Hardworking, honest, open, and caring about others.”
“Herman is terrific, I agree. He has great management skills. When one customer is trying to monopolize too much of my time, Herman has a smooth way of interrupting. He can be stern with anyone acting up but extra friendly to the locals who seem to need a little more attention.”
“With the aging population, that’s a lot of people.”
Stacking her hands on his chest and resting her chin there, Marlow asked, “As long as we’re talking, will you tell me more about your friend Nathan?
For the first time ever, Cort felt like sharing those memories. Nathan had been an incredible guy, and it seemed a shame he hadn’t boasted about him more. Now he could because Marlow had given him that gift. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.” Her gaze searched his face, then settled on looking into his eyes. “Everything.”
So he talked. Cort shared funny stories and heartbreaking stories. Times when Nathan had kept him going and when he’d repaid the favor. They’d been so close, Cort missed him daily. The things they’d shared guaranteed a lifetime of memories. He’d be thinking of Nathan, just as he thought of his mom, until he left the earth.
But in between those bittersweet memories, he hoped he’d be enjoying every day with Marlow and making new, wonderful memories—together.
* * *