Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Sean
“There’s two sides to that coin, Mr. Millionaire Prince Charming,” she says.
My chest tightens at the small quiver in her voice.
“I’m no one’s idea of Cinderella,” she says, “and I don’t want to be.
I’ve been living a tough life, seen the harsh realities, understand the gritty and dirty side of the world.
I’m no pretty socialite, no college educated fresh-faced young lady to bring home to your mom.
” She takes a breath and my gut turns at her words, but she’s not finished and I force myself to hear her out.
“I don’t need or want handouts. Not from anyone. Especially not from you.”
“Why don’t you just stab me in the heart?
” I say, sounding as gutted as I feel. No amount of learned discipline in the world can stop me from expressing the sharp pain she’s inflicting.
“I don’t want to give you a fucking handout.
” I reign myself in, carefully because with the hurt comes the defensive anger automatic and destructive in its cover-up effect.
“Could have fooled me.”
“Tickets to a football game that cost me nothing is hardly a hand out. And I don’t care if you lived on the streets. I see the woman you are now and respect you all the more for it. Maybe you need to take a look in the mirror and see who you really are, Ronnie, see the woman you’ve become.”
“I know who I am and I’m worlds apart from where you are.” She sweeps her hand in the air of my gleaming kitchen as evidence.
“I can’t believe you’re such a fucking snob. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You aren’t interested in me because I’m not poor like you.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You’re psycho. Your money is very interesting. So interesting I wonder why you’re interested in someone like me who has nothing.”
“So that’s it? You think I have some devious motive?
” I can barely utter the words the way they cut through me.
She’s right that we don’t know each other well, haven’t known each other long, but that doesn’t matter to my gut.
The deep connection I feel is real, the desire, the admiration, the need, all the things she’s slicing through with her words are real.
The pain of her rejection is fucking real.
But I recognize the fear, the automatic defenses she’s put up, so I step back from her. Turning away, I go to the freezer and take out a bottle of Patron I have stored for emergencies.
In my wildest dreams, I never anticipated this kind of emergency.
I figure I’d need the tequila for something like losing in the first round of the playoffs or a season ending injury, something more along those lines.
Not for a problem with a woman. Jesus F.
Christ. I hope the tequila is strong enough.
Taking two glasses from the cabinet, I pour the tequila straight with steady hands. We could both use a step back from the strangling tension, from the brink of ending the most promising love affair I’ve ever had when it’s barely started.
Without asking, I hand her the drink. After a beat she takes it without arguing. Thank God. I lift my glass in a toasting gesture, but hell if I know what to toast to, so I down the shot. She follows suit and I’m surprised she finishes it all with barely a shudder.
“Not your first shot of tequila I’m guessing?”
She shakes her head. “Courtesy of my husband. I’m lucky we didn’t drink much—not enough money for that—or I’d hate to think what kind of shape Jimmy would be in. I had no idea I was pregnant until I was four months along.”
What do I say to that? I heave a sigh.
“That had to be tough—finding out you’re pregnant when you thought you were protected. That this guy you trusted had tricked you into having his baby so you’d marry him.”
“Look, I’m not going to whine and complain about how tough I had it. That’s not what this is all about. Especially because we both know Jimmy is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Then what is this all about?”
“How not right you are for me.”
“Is it me, or is it your perception of who’s right for me that’s the problem?”
She laughs and I can tell the tequila has done its work to soften her up. I take the bottle and put it back into the freezer because my intention isn’t to get her drunk, only to ease the impossible tension, to loosen her up, loosen us both up.
She gives me a look of approval and says, “Legitimate question, but it doesn’t matter because I get to decide who’s right for me.” She raises her chin in challenge.
“Let me guess—no one is right for you. Because you have Jimmy.”
“Bingo. You’re smart for a football jock.” She smiles to show she’s teasing. The extra brightness in her stunning eyes mesmerizes me. I know her defense is strong, but I know it’s all wrong and I need to break through, to go for the Achilles heel.
I move in closer and bend my head. The scent of her is strong and heady. I whisper, the words “Did you ever think you might be doing Jimmy a disservice? Depriving him of the opportunity to have a dad or a legitimate father figure?”
She shudders and I don’t know if it’s my nearness, the whispering or my message that causes it. I’m not sure if she’s going to step back and hate me or cry and acknowledge I could be right. It could go either way.
She doesn’t step away. She looks up at me, her eyes sad and pleading and I’m looking for the hope, for the fight in her to shoot for the stars, to believe in herself and in life.
My breathing shallows as I wait for her to say something, to reach for her courage one more time and not abandon the possibility of something good.
“You don’t think I’ve thought of that? That’s what has me so scared. Jimmy’s so lonely for a man to look up to. Look at how he’s already latched onto you. Which, by the way, scares the hell out of me. Because that means his heart is at stake too and his is far more important than mine.”
She backs up a step and I don’t like where this is going, but I let her have her space, keep my mouth shut and listen to her. My momma didn’t raise a fool.
“If it was just me, Sean, I swear I’d be all over you if just for the fun of it. But how can I gamble with Jimmy’s heart on something so far-fetched as a relationship with you. It’s not going to last more than…” she waves a hand.
What she says is only half bad, but I pay attention to what worries her most because it’s what worries me most too.
“You’re right to worry about Jimmy getting attached to someone who might disappear and disappoint him. But I swear on my family’s bible that I’m not that guy.”
Her eyes narrow and she frowns, about to call me on crazy promises, but I stop her.
“I’m not saying I’m promising you the moon and forever, I’m saying I’m perfectly capable of being there for Jimmy as a family friend or mentor no matter what happens between you and I.
I like Jimmy. A lot. He has that kind of enthusiasm that reminds me of myself as a kid.
He has a good heart. And it doesn’t hurt that he has a beautiful mother—beautiful inside and out—but that’s a bonus, not the only thing I see in your son. ”
“Mentor? What do you mean?”
“I run a program with my brothers in the off-season for young boys and girls—”
“You mean a charity?”
“It’s a program to give kids who wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity to learn things and do things.
We have camps for football and other sports and science, cooking—you name it.
We take them on trips. We’re based here in East Boston and in the town where my family lives in Texas.
When the kids are away from home, we require one family member to accompany them.
We’re sensitive about making it a family thing. ”
“Sounds… amazing.”
“I’d love for Jimmy to be part of the program.”
She nods. I take her in my arms and ask, “Do you think he’ll go along with it?” I nudge her earlobe with my nose, taking in her soft warm feel and scent, the fine hairs at her temple tickling me, shooting desire straight to my previously patient dick.
She quietly chuckles. “If you’re there, I think he would leave me behind without a backwards glance.”
“I doubt that’s true. Besides, you’ll have to come with him. Unless he joins our day camp at the stadium right here in East Boston. We run a two week football program there in the summer.”
She rests her head against my chest then, right over my heart, making it hammer like crazy. Then she wraps her arms around me. That’s all the encouragement I need. I envelop her, pulling her hard against me.
“Trust me to come to bed and let me show you how I feel?” I say. She looks up at me and I see that look in her eyes reflecting how I feel, elemental need bypassing whatever else had been standing in the way.
When she lifts her chin and slips a hand up my back, raking her fingers through my hair, I lower my mouth to hers and take it. Somehow we make it to my bedroom.
I’m not fool enough to think everything is settled between us, but the chemistry between us takes over and we fall into my bed. Her greedy hands are on my zipper and my hands find her wet and ready, but something stops me. I stop her, putting my hand over hers.
“Wait. This doesn’t feel right,” I say, part devil and all sincere. “I can’t do this with you refusing to go to the game.”
“What?” She pushes at my hand to tug at the zipper again.
“I’m serious, Ronnie.” Because I need that much to be settled, to know we can move forward one more step after today, that she’s not going to shut me out again tomorrow.
She stops and searches my face, her mouth kiss-swollen and her glassy eyes like a mirror blue lake.
“Are you saying you won’t have sex if Jimmy and I don’t go to the game?” Her expression is incredulous, but softens when I nod my head, little nerves kicking up uncomfortable spikes in my gut.