Page 75 of Saving Ren
“I wanted you safe, Ren. I wanted you with me, where I knew I could keep you that way. After spending just one night talking to you in the pub, I wanted that. I’ve known you a little over a month, and I still want that. But please, don’t make fucking assumptions about what you thinkIwant, based onyourinsecurities.”
Folding her arms across her chest, she leans back against the benchtop on the other side of my kitchen and stares at the floor.
I keep my voice low. As much as what she’s said has pissed me off, the last thing I want to do is scare her. Her eyes finally blaze a path across the kitchen to meet mine.
“I’m sorry. Like I said earlier, they’re my issues, and I know I need to work on them but give me a break here. It’s been four weeks. I’ve spent months, almost a year, being told that I’m fat, ugly, and useless. It’s going to take a little while for me not to believe all of that. And I know you’ve been nothing but nice to me but look at you, Gabe. Just look at you, and all that you are, all that you’re offering me, all that you’re bringing to this relationship.” She waves her hand in my direction, and I can see that she’s getting upset, but we need to get this shit sorted.
“Then look at me. I’m an emotional and physical mess. I’ve got nothing. All I have to offer are red flags, and baggage.”
“And have I let any of that put me off? No, because it’s you I fucking care about, not the drama you come with, your age, or the stretch marks you may or may not have.”
“You haven’t seen them yet.”
“Fuck. Me. Dead. Woman!” That time I did raise my voice, and I stand with my face tilted to the ceiling, drawing in deep breaths as I attempt to compose myself.
“You’ve been in my bed for a month, have I put you under any kind of pressure to take things further? Have I made you feel uncomfortable at any time?”
She swallows and shakes her head.
“No. But please, do not think for a second that I haven’t wanted to. I don’t know how I’ve managed to keep my hands mostly to myself. But I’ve done it. I’ve missed you like fuck this week. I love my kid, love spending time with her, but I spent every day and every fucking night missing you, wishing you were there. And now I’m home,” I shake my head, struggling to keep my voice low. The last thing I want to do is scare her and the Italian parts of my blood tend to make me loud and animated when I feel passionately about something.
“And I don’t know, Ren. I’ve got all this shit going on in my head that I don’t know how to deal with. I've spent the past ten years living like a wombat. I haven't had a meaningful relationship with a woman, other than my daughter, my mother, and my sister in my entire life, then I walk into the pub, and there’s you.” Now it’s my turn to wave my hand about.
“With your fucking hair, your arse, your tits, and your blue fucking eyes. You’ve rocked my fucking world, Ren, don’t you get that? You've flipped my world on its fucking head.”
Her lips twitch, and I think, Ihope, I’m finally getting through to her.
“Wombat?” she questions.
“Yes, Wombat. Eats, roots, and leaves.” Our eyes meet. She rolls her lips together, but I can see she’s fighting a smile.
“Do you realise how many times you just said fuck or fucking?”
“No, and I don’t care. A lot, probably. You frustrate the fuck out of me. I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You’re gorgeous. I’ve kept you safe from your husband. I’ve saved you from him. That was the easy part. The hard part is going to be saving you from yourself.”
“I warned you I have issues,’ she says with a shrug.
“And you weren’t fucking lying, but we’ll work through them, we’ll get you there, but you’ve gotta let me help you. You’ve gotta believe what I say. Now get your sexy arse over here and kiss me.”
I watch as her top teeth chew on her bottom lip for a second, brows pulled down into a frown as she looks right back at me.
“You put me up here, you gonna help get me down? She questions. I move towards her open arms and legs in and instant.
After a quick kiss and make-up session, we eat a sandwich. As soon as Lauren’s done, she heads towards the deck. Reaching the doors, she turns and looks at me.
“Bring my wine out to the spa,” she orders. Grabbing my beer off the counter, I pick up the glass of wine I poured her earlier, along with the rest of the bottle, and follow her outside.
* * *
Settingeverything down on the table next to the spa, I remove the cover as Lauren stands off to the side and watches me.
I’d had the deck around the top floor of my house custom built to house the spa in a way that you step down into it, rather than having to climb over the side.
Leaning the cover against the side of the house, I watch as Lauren bends. I do the same. We both lean in at the same time and test the water. The daylight’s fading, the sky rapidly turning grey and gloomy, but it’s not overly cold. I’d asked Jimmy to set the temperature to thirty-seven, and I’d adjust it to whatever suited Lauren.
“That’s perfect,” she declares, moving her hand through the water.
“You want some music?” I ask.
