Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
CARSON
There were many reasons for me to walk away, and yet I was ignoring every single one of them.
The best possible outcome for whatever would happen next would be a broken heart, a rash decision, and a punch to the face.
Namely, I would have to deal with the Cages in all of their glory, as they always stood together.
It was nice to see. Hell, it was needed considering everything that family had gone through.
But I should not be walking up this path with food in hand, and a questioning glance.
No good could come from this, and yet I wasn’t walking away. I couldn’t walk away.
Before I could even knock on the door, it opened widely, and Sophia stepped out onto the front porch. She looked so damn striking. Sometimes it was hard to even breathe when I looked at her. And honestly, that meant I was just losing my mind.
The summer heat beat down on the back of my neck, sweat glistening, and yet I couldn’t feel a damn thing. I could only look at her and wonder why I wasn’t walking away.
Although truly it only took a single glance to realize why I stood here.
“You came,” she said softly, her eyes wide.
You’re going to be coming later, I thought to myself, and wondered when that juvenile thought had slithered through. I wasn’t that type of man to make comments like that, or even think them, and yet here Sophia was, making me yearn for things that wouldn’t be. Ever.
She had her hair down, and it flowed into soft waves as if she had it in a braid earlier. She wore a sundress that went to her mid-thighs, and her feet were bare. Her toes were painted a coral pink—a color I only knew about because my sister had mentioned it once—and her fingernails matched.
Such a small piece of clothing clung to the slight curves that shaped Sophia, and it was all I could do not to toss the food away and push her against the door so I could have my way with her.
That would be the first of many irresponsible and irredeemable steps I could make. And because I respected the woman in front of me, I wouldn’t do that.
I sure as hell wanted to though.
“I did. I brought food. Although now I’m realizing that you might have meant for me to come over for you to cook for me. We weren’t very detailed in our plans.”
A small smile played on her lips, and she moved forward, her bare feet soft on the pavement.
“I’m glad you brought something, though I did cook as well. You said you would be here today, and well, it felt like an out of body experience. If that makes any sense.”
I moved both bags to one hand, and took a step forward, lifting my arm towards her.
She didn’t flinch, and I was grateful for that.
She was always so careful in the movements she made when it came to other people surrounding her, and I knew it was on purpose.
All because of what that man had done. But I would take it in stride and force myself to remember why we were here to begin with.
Because I wanted her.
And I couldn’t stop.
I brushed her hair from her face and tucked a strand behind her ear. Her head tilted towards my touch, and I cupped her cheek, wondering if she even noticed she had done that.
Her eyes widened, and both of us merely stood there, the distance between us vast and yet nothing simultaneously.
“We were vague with the plans. So I brought a few things to snack on. You can have them later. I’d love to try your cooking. And yes, I am inviting myself to dinner.”
She smiled then, and shook her head before taking a step back. I immediately felt the loss of her touch but ignored the feeling.
“It’s just a veggie lasagna. The girls like it.”
“I brought something for them too.” Again, I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. Why was I here at all? With her kids in the house. It made no sense, and I was an idiot, but I couldn’t take those steps back.
There was no other purpose in it.
“The girls are inside,” she reiterated, and I nodded.
“I understand.”
Did I? I didn’t mess with single moms, nor did I even allow myself to truly want them. And yet here I was, wanting the unattainable.
“They know you now. You’ve held them.” Her eyes filled, and then she blinked the moisture away before I could utter a word. “You can be a Cage family friend. You work with my family after all, and they’ve met you, so it makes sense.”
I brushed my finger along her collarbone, loving the way her skin pebbled.
“I won’t hurt your children, Sophia.” That was a promise I intended to keep no matter what.
I did not hurt children. I did not hurt women.
I took what I wanted, but I didn’t leave sheer destruction in my wake.
I was not my father. Nor was I the men that I had grown up with.
I might not be a good person, but I strove to be a better person than they had ever tried to become.
“Someone promised me that before—” She put her hand over her mouth, as if she had just realized what she had said.
I set the bags down and glared. “Did he touch them? I will kill him.” She put her hands over my chest, went to her tiptoes so she could kiss my jaw.
I leaned down and brushed my lips against hers.
The softness settled something deep within me, and I had to struggle in order to just breathe at that moment.
“No. He never hurt them. But I thought maybe he would. He...he wasn’t always cruel to me.
He didn’t hurt me like that. Yes, he ended up being a terrible person that went too far, and deserves far more than what he got, but he never touched my children.
If he had ever laid a hand on them, I would’ve walked away.
If he’d done anything close to what he’d done to me in that moment?
I would’ve walked away. I was already planning on it.
I promised. I wasn’t staying forever.” She continued to try to explain herself, and it broke me to hear her try.
Because in that moment, she wasn’t blaming Cale for the cruelty he relished in.
No, she blamed herself for what pain he inflicted because apparently, she hadn’t seen the darkness within. Well, screw that. That wasn’t on her.
“Sophia. Breathe. Do not blame yourself. Please. You can yell at me, push at me, but you don’t get to blame yourself for what that man did. He’s just lucky he’s alive.”
“Please don’t threaten to kill him in front of the girls. He’s still their father.”
“Not if he’s dead,” I growled.
“Carson. I’m doing all that’s within me to ensure that he never sees them again, and yet, they still have questions about him. And I don’t have answers. So please, don’t make this any harder than it is.”
I stood there for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded. Then I pressed my lips to hers, the need growing within me. “Fine. We’ll eat. I want to try this veggie lasagna of yours.”
“And yet you still brought food?”
“I want to feed you.”
“Why is that?”
I didn’t know why, and that bothered me, so I spoke the truth even though it wasn’t fully fleshed out. “You take care of others, but not yourself. So let me.”
Something passed over her face, but she didn’t elaborate. Instead, she reached for the bags. I took them before she could and then slid my hand over hers.
“Take me inside, Sophia,” I whispered, knowing that even the words such as they were, might be too much. But instead, she looked me dead in the eye, nodded, and led me into her home, putting on the bravest face I’d ever seen.
This woman...
There were no words for this woman.
I should walk away.
And that’s why I wouldn’t.
“Mr. Carson. Do you like spetti?”
I looked down at Violet and grinned. “Spaghetti?” I asked, trying to decipher her words.
“Yes, spaghetti,” Sophia teased from the other side of the table.
Somehow, I had found myself sitting at the dinner table with Sophia and her girls, as if this was an everyday occurrence.
Again, I didn’t know why I was there, nor did I think Sophia knew.
But here we were, figuring things out. Possibly.
All I knew was that I needed to be here. I needed to find out what this feeling was. I needed to get my hands on her.
Yet another part of me knew I needed to keep her safe.
It wasn’t my job—it never had been, but now I was making it my job. I knew that would bite me in the ass later, but in this moment, I didn’t care.
I cleared my throat and tried to remember how to speak to children—something I wasn’t great at.
I didn’t know much about how children interacted with others, but I did recall that Hazel and Violet liked when I spoke to them like they were people rather than the figments of fear and illusion that most children felt like to me.
“I do like spaghetti. All forms of pasta. Even vegetable pasta,” I teased, and Sophia rolled her eyes playfully.
Vegetable lasagna had ended up being a meatless lasagna for sure, instead of regular noodles, they were using zucchini noodles. It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but the meal itself was pretty damn good.
“I love pasta,” Hazel said sweetly, grinning at me.
“Pasta hurts my tummy,” Violet said simply, but she dug into her small plate.
I gave Sophia a strange look, and she blushed. “We are trying zucchini noodles because we don’t know if Violet is gluten intolerant or not. So we’re taking things one at a time.”
“My stomach’s fine,” Hazel said.
“But you don’t like milk,” Violet countered.
And then the two discussed every single food and how it affected their stomachs.
My lips twitched as I looked up at Sophia, who just sighed. “These are good things to know.”
“You say that, and yet you don’t have the spreadsheet that I do.”
“Spreadsheet?” This woman. Why was I supposed to resist her again?
Oh yes, I knew why. Because going down this path would only hurt her.
Relationships beyond a few nights were a lie.
Watching my parents and every other couple around me fall to pieces over time proved that.
I wouldn’t do that to Sophia and these girls. Yet I couldn’t leave this table.