Page 66 of Take Me to Church
Lydia's expression morphs into surprise. "Sexy?"
"That's not saying as much as you think it is considering I think everything you do is sexy." From the second she walked into my office, I've been hooked. Unable to think about anything but her. The woman she is now. The strength she carries. The drive. How far she’s come from that scared little girl I once knew, but still manages to carry the same sweetness in spite of everything.
I tuck her head into my shoulder, smoothing down the soft strands of her hair as I close my eyes. “Now you and your sexy ass need to go to sleep.”
* * *
THE SECURITY ALERT of my front gate unlocking wakes me. It’s not the alarm, which means whoever opened it has the code, so I’m not overly concerned.
But I’m also not unconcerned.
I hold my breath as I slide away from Lydia’s warm body, easing myself to the edge of the air mattress we slept on before working to my feet, being careful not to shift the bed too much. She’s had a rough week and needs to sleep.
Unfortunately, the second I stand, Lydia’s eyes fly open on a sharp inhale as she sits up, looking disheveled and disoriented. “What’s wrong?”
I start to tell her it’s nothing, but that doesn’t seem right. I want her to be honest with me. I should be honest with her too. “Someone opened the front gate.”
“Oh.” She blinks, eyes widening. “Oh.” Her limbs flail around as she tosses the covers back and wrestles her way off the constantly shifting bed, losing her balance and dropping back down. “I think I hate this thing.” She slides to her knees before standing, giving up on pushing her way out as she continues to grumble. “It’s fine as long as you don’t try to move, I guess.”
I feel the sudden urge to smile. I’m used to waking up alone. Spending my mornings in silence as I drink coffee and get a little work done.
But silence is overrated when the alternative is a rumpled Lydia sporting bedhead and a grumpy frown.
“Not a morning person?” I grab my discarded pair of pants and pull them on as I make my way to the door.
“No.” She yawns, one hand going to the mess of her hair. “Not at all.”
I unlock the office door and crack it open, making sure neither of my other two houseguests are waiting in the hall. All clear, so Myra and Piper must still be asleep, which I’m grateful for.
I’m positive they know where Lydia is spending her nights, but I’m not quite sure she’s ready to fess up to it just yet.
I step out, using my body to keep Lydia blocked into the office as I peer toward the narrow windows flanking the front door. The etched glass blurs everything on the other side, but there’s no mistaking what I’m seeing.
“Who are all those people?” Lydia grips my arm, holding tight as she leans around me to get a look.
I swallow hard. "My family." I take a deep breath just as the knock comes. "You might want to brace yourself."
I should have known this moment was coming. Should have guessed this would be the outcome of the conversation I had with my brothers last night.
Lydia's hand stays on my arm as I go to the door, unlocking the deadbolt before opening it wide to reveal the crowd of smiling faces.
Jill, the matriarch of our mismatched crew, beams, her focus entirely fixed on the woman still mostly hidden behind me. "Good morning." She shoves the covered dish in her hand out. "We brought you breakfast." Her eyes slide my way, narrowing into a glare I knew was coming. "Since we can't rely on Christian to take care of the things he’s supposed to."
I step back, not by choice, as Jill shoulders her way past me, the collection of women occupying my porch filing in right behind her. My brothers’ wives aren't shy and they certainly won't leave one woman, let alone three, thinking they’re not part of the group. So, whether Lydia's ready for it or not, she's about to be claimed.
"How did you sleep, honey?" Jill reaches out to pat Lydia's shoulder, expression full of motherly concern and care. "This house only has two beds. Where in the world does he have you sleeping?"
Lydia freezes up, a conflicting combination of forced politeness and horror caught on her face.
I step between them. "Give her a little room."
I love Jill. I understand where she's coming from and who she is. But I also understand where Lydia's coming from and whosheis, and right now she's afraid. Afraid of judgment. Maybe still a little afraid of eternal damnation.
I loop one arm around Lydia's waist, tucking her into my side as I keep myself between her and the rest of the group, watching as they mill around my house like they own it. "Make yourselves at home."
"We plan to." Jill continues to lead the pack, heading straight down the main hall that leads to the back portion of my house. Her daughter, Kerri, is right behind her, carrying a dish of her own. Felicity and Shelly walk side-by-side, both of them smiling wide as they pass. Carly, Josie, and Hope bring up the rear. They’re the ones I think Lydia will get along with the best. They’re a little calmer than everyone else. Quieter. They've been through similar experiences and I think she’ll feel understood by them.
As long as she's willing to peel herself away from my side. And right now that doesn't seem like it's going to happen anytime soon.
