7. Chapter Seven #2
“I want to know everything.”
Her nose was pointed at the end. Delicate and cute, a ski slope from the side.
It was anachronistic in comparison to her other features, which were almost erotic in their femininity.
Tilted, almond-shaped eyes. Puffy pink lips.
Strong, dark brows. High cheekbones. A soft jawline.
All of it creating the most exquisite face I’d ever laid eyes on.
But her nose told her story. It twitched and crinkled. Scrunched and flared .
Now, it wrinkled along the narrow ridge, and it was all I could do not to smooth the skin with my thumb.
“My mom had me when she was fifteen. We grew up together, basically. She treated me more like a sister than a daughter, even when I was little. I started cooking breakfast for us when I was five. I had to wake her up for school. By ten, I was doing laundry, vacuuming—all of it. Then she met Phil.”
Our waiter approached, and I waved him away. I needed to know what Bea was telling me more than anything else.
She went on. “Phil was twenty years older and had grown kids, but he was rich. So rich. My mom was pregnant within a month or two of their wedding, and when she told me, she said, ‘We’re having a baby, bumblebee!’ As in, she and I.
And I knew what would happen—this baby would be mine more than hers. ”
“ Christ ,” I grunted, already angry and bracing for more.
Her eyes went almost dreamy. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved my siblings with all my heart, but I was never given a choice.
I was made into the third parent, and there were a lot of times I was the primary caretaker.
” She tugged on one of her curls, lost in a memory.
“Actually, when the second one came, I was the primary caretaker. They put his crib in my bedroom. I was late for school so often, I almost had to repeat the year. That was eighth grade, by the way.”
My fists clenched under the table as helpless anger thrummed in my veins. I barely knew this woman, but I’d rewrite her entire childhood if I could. If it meant we’d still end up here, side by side in this booth, I’d dismantle every law of physics to make it happen.
But I knew that was fruitless. All I could do was ensure her life from here on out was her own to guide in the direction she desired .
She went on, and it got worse. “My stepsister, Caroline, is sixteen years older than me. She’s…
well, we’re night and day, but she saw what was going on and spoke to her father about it.
When Phil came to me with Caroline’s concerns, my mother forced me to tell him I was happy with my circumstances. In the end, nothing changed.”
My hands clenched even tighter.
She drew in a deep breath. “She got pregnant again and I panicked. I just couldn’t do it another time.
I’d applied to out-of-state colleges, and she flipped, said if I left, Phil would divorce her, and she and the kids would be homeless.
She laid it all on me. And like always, I would’ve stayed, but Caroline found out. ”
“She helped you?”
“She’s not a big fan of her dad. Helping me doubled as making his life difficult. At least, that’s what I think.” The corner of her mouth hitched. “So yeah, she helped, but she’s a ‘pull yourself up by your bootstraps’ type, you know? She gave me the bootstraps, but that was it.”
“What does that mean, specifically?”
“She cosigned for my first apartment, helped me with forms and loans, that kind of thing. After that, I was on my own.” She propped her fist beneath her chin. “It was a lot more than my own mother had done for me. And she’s given a lot of business to the catering company lately, so…”
She spoke as if this Caroline woman had done her a favor. She may have done more than everyone else in Bea’s life, but that wasn’t saying much. In actuality, she’d done the bare minimum. She’d lifted one solitary finger to help. That was it.
Not enough.
Not even close .
I made a mental note of these people’s names to look into later, keeping my focus on the woman beside me.
“So, everyone has let you down?”
She shrugged. “I’ve learned to count on myself. I won’t ever let me down.”
“No one takes care of you.” It wasn’t a question. It was obvious no one ever had, and that was wrong on every level. Beatrice Novak deserved to be treasured and pampered. “If I had a say, that would change.”
“Who says I want someone to take care of me, Tore?”
“In this case, it isn’t about what you want. It would be what I want to do for you.”
A low breath passed from the O of her parted lips. “And if that freaks me out?”
“I would chase you until you’re not afraid.”
With flushed cheeks, she brushed her hands over her plush hips. “I’m not really built to be a runner, you know.”
I leaned closer, drawn in by the pink caused by vasodilation beneath the surface of her smooth skin. “But you like the idea of being chased?”
Her teeth peeked out to clamp down on her bottom lip. “Maybe. If it was you who caught me.”
Heat flooded my groin, my chest, my gut. The idea of prowling through the dark to hunt her down struck me hard and fast. And suddenly, I needed it to happen—find her, win her, capture her, keep her.
This wasn’t me.
But maybe it was…with Bea.