Page 46 of Honk if You Love Real Men (Tempting SEALs 1)

“Why? You afraid the realization that I’m a lesbian might send me over the edge?”

His stomach clenched. “You’re not a lesbian.”

“I sure enjoyed myself like one.”

He got out of the car, quickly moving to her side. She stared straight ahead as he opened the door.

“Bree, come on out.”

“Take me back to the hotel, Trent.”

“No.”

“Then call me a cab.”

“No,” he said.

“Trent—”

He bent down and took her in his arms.

“Don’t,” she said, starting to struggle. “Don’t. I’m okay.”

And his heart broke all the more, because it was apparent she wasn’t okay. Tears stung his eyes as he tugged her into his arms. He didn’t care that he was out in front of his house, his neighbors probably watching. He didn’t care that she really didn’t want to go into his arms. He held her anyway and he didn’t let her go. He wouldn’t let her go.

She began to cry, huge, gasping sobs that seemed torn from her body.

“Fucking bastard,” he thought he heard her murmur. “How could he mess me up so much?”

Trent held her, and a second or two later guided her into his house stroking her hair the whole way, rubbing his thumb up and down her bare arms, just held her and told her he was there for her.

She stopped crying.

He would have been hard-pressed to say when, but suddenly she was quiet, his grandfather clock tick-tick-ticking in the background.

“Do you remember the Mitchell boys?” he asked her softly.

He felt her stir, felt rather than saw, her head nod.

“Do you remember how they used to beat the crap out of me?”

She didn’t answer, but he knew she did.

“I hated those jerks. Every day they’d lie in wait for me. I was only . . . what? Nine? Ten? They were at least five years older than me, but that didn’t stop them from hassling me.”

“They stole your skateboard.”

Aha. She did remember. He almost smiled. “I think my mom knew I was at the end of my rope. She never said anything to me about it, but she knew what was going on. And then one day she took me into our garage. It was just me and her, if you remember. I didn’t have a dad, which is part of the reason why I think the Mitchell boys picked on me. ‘Mama’s boy’ they used to call me, and they were right. But you know what that mama of mine did?”

She shook her head, Trent resting his chin atop her head.

“She bought me a punching bag and taped a picture of the Mitchell boys right in the middle of it. Told me to beat the crap out of it.”

She shifted, leaned back and looked up at him. “She did?”

“Yup.” And Trent’s heart broke at the sight of her tear-ravaged face. He forced himself to finish his story. “And because of that, I was able to kick the shit out of those boys a few weeks later. They didn’t know what hit them. Two months working with a punching bag and I was able to stomp all over them.”

She smiled. Just a tiny little thing, but it made Trent’s spirits rise. And then he gentled his words, reached around and lightly stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I would give you a thousand punching bags if I could, Bree. A thousand and one, if that’s what it’d take to make you feel better.”

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