Home > Charged (Saints of Denver #2)(53)

Charged (Saints of Denver #2)(53)
Author: Jay Crownover

He narrowed his eyes at me and I shivered at the chill that emanated from them. “Maybe not, but when we’re in bed together, we are definitely in the same place. It’s not what you have that matters here, and it’s not what I have that matters. All that matters is what we have together. Where you’ve been and what you’ve done don’t exist here and the same goes for me. The only thing that counts is that we’re here and what we do while we are in this moment.”

I moved my thumb so that I could stroke it across his lower lip. It was still damp and shiny from the very thorough loving he had just bestowed upon me. That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, but I knew the truth, and the truth was that everything we did before mattered, and he and I would never be on equal footing, even in bed. He was an executive, and while I wasn’t exactly an intern, there was definitely room for upward movement. Whenever I was with him I felt like I was learning something new—about him, about myself, and most definitely about what sex and intimacy could be like, if you weren’t using it to hurt.

“You have to get to work and I already made you late.” It wasn’t what he wanted; I could see that in his eyes as they went a colder shade blue as he pulled himself up and off of me. I didn’t have much to offer a man like Quaid Jackson, so the truth was going to have to suffice, even if it made him look at me like he regretted not letting me fire him from the beginning.

“SO THE LAWYER? What’s going on there?” My mom’s voice was curious but also cautious as she asked me the question. I could see her hoping my answer was that I’d finally found a man that would keep me out of trouble, but the more time I spent with Quaid, in bed and out of it, I realized he was the biggest trouble I had ever waded my way into. The fall when things imploded with him might very well be the end of me.

I barely heard her over the disbelief and wonder that had me stunned stupid and stuck on the spot as I gazed at the bounty of stuff that was covering the small twin bed that had been mine whenever I stayed with her when I was younger. I hadn’t been inside of this room since I was a teenager and to see it covered in clothing and essentials from top to bottom had me overwhelmed with emotion.

I had a hand to my throat and was fighting really hard to blink back tears as I turned to look at her. “I can’t believe they did this. I can’t believe they cared enough to do something so nice after I’ve been nothing but terrible to them.”

There was no need to raid my mom’s closet for the bare essentials because all of the girls that belonged to all of my father’s boys had shown up in full force with every single thing I would need to survive the loss of everything I owned. There were more clothes than I owned before the fire, some new with visible tags and some worn and comfy looking. There were shoes and socks. There were undergarments that ranged from practical to sassy. There was stuff that looked soft and welcoming to sleep in. There was makeup and junk for my hair. There was a brush and hair dryer. There was a toothbrush. I hadn’t even thought about the fact I would need a toothbrush, until this morning, when I had to use my finger to brush my teeth at Quaid’s place.

The girls had gone out of their way to make sure I had a little bit of everything I lost, and I was so touched, so humbled, that I couldn’t even function. My mom put her hand on my arm and I looked at her as she smiled at me.

“Your father has a knack for finding the good ones, and those girls …” She spoke about the wonderful women that had done this for me, and I saw something in her face that I never saw when she talked about me or to me—pride. “They have some of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. They have to in order to put up with those stubborn and wonderful men they chose to love.”

I cleared my throat awkwardly, and told her, “I’m not sure how I’ll ever be able to thank them for all of this. I feel like it’s too much. I don’t deserve this type of kindness from any of them.”

Her hold on my arm tightened and she pulled me around so that I was facing her. Her eyes, the ones where the green and gold in mine came from, locked intently on my face. “They didn’t do it because they wanted your gratitude or because they gave a single thought to whether or not you are worthy of an act of compassion and caring. They did it because, to them, it was the right thing to do. Your father has stepped in and helped out so many of their young men when they needed some guidance. To those girls this was simply what had to be done.” She grinned at me again. “To be fair, they would probably do the same thing for anyone in a dire situation, but the fact that you’re Brite’s daughter definitely doesn’t hurt matters.” Her dark eyebrows shot up and the softness on her face faded back to curiosity. “So, the lawyer?”

She shifted gears, but I was stuck on the fact that I had all this stuff and that I wouldn’t have to go without, or struggle to replace the bare necessities, all because a group of women that I hardly knew, that owed me nothing, thought it was the right thing to do. I wondered what that felt like. I wondered if knowing what was right felt as warm and as bright as being on the receiving end of that kind of positive action. I was warm, from my head to my toes, and my heart felt so full that it was a miracle it didn’t burst right out of my chest. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to deserve something this good. I wanted to be the kind of person that not only knew what the right thing was without thinking about it, but could also do the right thing, so that I could make someone else feel as appreciated and valued as I did in this moment.

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