Chapter 15 #2
“Do you want all that stuff I talked about?” Pid couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes.”
“That’s all I need to hear. I’m patient, Mo. I can give you time.”
“How will I know though?” she asked, sounding frustrated. “I’ve never trusted anyone before. I have no idea how I’ll even know if I trust you.”
“You’ll know,” Pid told her.
“You’re kind of a pain,” Monica retorted with a sigh.
Pid laughed. “Yeah. And, Mo?”
“What?”
“Just because I’m not ready for you to make love to me, doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you. And touch you.”
She gave him a small smile. “Same.”
“Glad we’re on the same page with that at least,” Pid said, leaning down.
They made out right there in the middle of the kitchen for what seemed like an eternity. When Pid finally pulled back, his cock was hard once again, and Monica was holding onto him as if she never wanted to let go. They were both breathing hard and her lips were swollen and red.
She was sexy as hell, and Pid nearly blurted that he was wrong. He didn’t need to wait for her to trust him. But he held back, knowing if they were ever going to work out long-term, he needed to be strong for both of them.
“Now we’re both going to be late,” she said, not moving out of his embrace.
“Totally worth it,” Pid said. “Besides, I can’t tell you how many times Mustang, Midas, and Aleck have been late.”
Monica giggled.
They left the house hand in hand, and while things had taken a strange turn that morning, Pid couldn’t be upset about it.
He felt good about where he and Monica stood.
As he’d told her, he’d give her as much time as she needed to work through her feelings.
He suspected she already trusted him to some extent, even if she didn’t realize it.
She wouldn’t have agreed to stay with him if she didn’t.
It was just a matter of her coming to terms with her upbringing and overcoming the damage her father had done to her psyche.
Of course, that was easier said than done, and he could recommend some really good psychologists for her to talk to that might make it easier.
He should’ve already brought it up, and he’d be sure to do it soon.
Pid only wanted Monica to understand what an amazing woman she was.
Exactly as she was. She didn’t have to change in order to love and be loved.
Monica thought about what Stuart had said all day as she interacted with the children at the Head Start Center. One thing stuck out like a bright neon blinking light.
He wanted kids.
With her.
She’d dreamed about having a family, but had frequently pushed the thought to the back of her head. She was too fucked up to get married. And while she knew she could have children without being married, she wouldn’t want that for a child.
There was a part of her deep down inside that wanted what she read about in books and saw in movies.
She wanted a husband who loved her unconditionally.
Who’d be there when she needed him. Who’d be one hundred percent present when it came to raising their children.
He’d go to ballet recitals and soccer games.
He’d change diapers and help clean the house.
He’d never freak out if someone broke something or made a mess.
She’d thought it was a pipe dream. The real world didn’t work like that. So she’d thrown herself into being the best nanny she could be. Living vicariously through other people’s children.
Then she’d met Stuart.
He wasn’t perfect. He made more messes than some of the children she’d cared for, and was lax about keeping his house clean, although it was obvious he was trying harder now that she was there.
He left the toilet seat up all the time.
When they watched TV together, he tended to hog the remote.
Surprisingly, he couldn’t multitask. She’d assumed that a special forces operative would absolutely be able to do two things at once, but that wasn’t the case with Stuart. At least not that Monica had seen.
But did any of that really matter in the long run? The list of things that were amazing about him was four times as long as the little things that annoyed her. Starting with building her a freaking safe room. And letting her stay with him. And sharing his friends with her.
And now, he’d freely admitted that he wanted her to have his children.
Monica felt tears well up in her eyes once more, but blinked them back. She wanted children too. She just wasn’t sure she could ever trust a man the way Stuart wanted her to trust him. And that sucked.
By the time he arrived to pick her up at the end of the day, she mostly had her emotions under control.
It helped that he didn’t act any different toward her than he normally did.
After she’d gotten into his minivan—a minivan, for God’s sake; he was already way more ready for kids than most men—he leaned over and pulled her into him and kissed her long, hot, and hard.
“What was that for?” she asked breathlessly.
“I missed you,” he said. “I got used to seeing you whenever I wanted on the base. You have a good day?”
“Yeah. Sylvia asked if I’d filled out the application she emailed me,” Monica admitted.
“And?”
“I’ve filled it out, but haven’t submitted it,” she said.
“It’s a big decision,” Stuart told her as he headed for his house. “I’m guessing it doesn’t pay as well as what you were earning as a live-in nanny.”
“It doesn’t,” Monica confirmed.
“And child care during the day isn’t the same as being with someone full time,” he said.
“No, it’s not.”
“And these kids are very different from the ones you’re used to looking after,” Stuart added.
“And?” Monica said a little defensively.
“And nothing, it’s just an observation. Most of the children at Head Start are from disadvantaged parents, and you’re used to nannying for ambassadors and other well-off families.”
Monica wasn’t sure nannying was a word, but that wasn’t what bothered her about Stuart’s observation.
“Maybe these kids need me more,” she said a little huffily.
“The color of their skin doesn’t make a difference to me.
Or how much money their families have. Besides, that’s all the more reason to work with them.
To try to make up for any gaps they might have before they get into the public educational system.
To put them on the same page as their peers. ”
Stuart was grinning as he drove, and that annoyed her further. “What are you smiling about?”
“You. I couldn’t agree with you more. The kids here do need you, Mo.”
She realized suddenly that somehow she’d gone from not being sure about turning in the application to advocating for working at Head Start rather than finding a job for another ambassador or another wealthy family. “You’re impossible,” she muttered.
Stuart only chuckled. “Hey, all I did was ask how your day was.”
Monica had to concede his point. She’d been the one to bring up the application. “I should probably find my own place if I decide to stay,” she said quietly, broaching a subject they’d touched on before.
“No.”
Monica waited. He didn’t say anything else. “No?”
He sighed. “You already know I like you in my house. You like it in my house. You’ve got your own room, I’m doing my best not to be an asshole roommate.
I told you once that I wouldn’t rush you, and I’m telling you again.
There’s no reason for you to move out. If you want to prove that you can be independent, there’s no need.
I already know you can be. You’re a grown woman and have done a damn good job of looking after yourself ever since you moved out of your parents’ house when you were sixteen.
I like hanging out with you and talking about our days.
I like having someone to make breakfast for.
I like everything about you, Mo. If there’s anything I’m doing, or not doing, just say the word and I’ll fix it. ”
“It’s not you,” she said automatically. But it was him. He confused her. Made her feel safe. Made her happy.
“Then stay,” he cajoled. “If you need to feel more independent, we’ll find you a reliable used car so you can have your own transportation. I just…don’t want you to go,” he finished softly.
It was hard for her to believe they were even having this conversation, but at least he was driving. That made it easier. Otherwise, he’d probably take her in his arms and kiss her like he had that morning, making her brain short circuit.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
“Good. Now, what do you want for dinner?”
She had to admit she liked how he made intense topics seem not so…well…intense. “Hamburgers.”
“Done,” he said with a smile.
They drove a few miles before Monica tentatively asked, “Did they find him?”
Stuart knew who she was talking about. “Not yet,” he said. “But they think they’ve nailed down a few of the aliases he’s been using. It’s only a matter of time,” he said confidently.
Monica felt bad that she hadn’t recognized Shane Beyer when she’d looked at his profile. But everyone had known it was a long shot. The man she’d seen had half his face covered and was twenty years older than the pictures she’d looked at. But that didn’t assuage her guilt.
“Do they have any idea what his plans are?” she asked.
She didn’t miss the concerned look Stuart shot her way.
“I know it’s all probably being kept hush-hush, but this involves me, Stuart,” she said earnestly.
Stuart sighed. “They don’t. But now that Huttner knows who he’s looking for, some of the letters and emails he’s received make more sense.”
“Like?” Monica asked when he didn’t elaborate.
“Do you remember that picture of the murdered woman Huttner showed you when you first got to Hawaii?”
Monica couldn’t forget it. The image of the poor woman bleeding out on her comforter, pretty pink flowers covered in blood spatter, was burned into her brain. That could’ve been her, if it hadn’t been for the safe room in the ambassador’s house. “Yes,” she said simply.
“The note accompanying the picture was full of clues.”