Page 41 of Ms. Fortune

She enters the room and throws her bag on the bed, but I stay in the doorway, not wanting to cross more boundaries with her than I already have by assuming anything. I know I’m the last thing on her mind, as I should be. Even though we kissed on the plane, she’s been reticent since we landed, barely speaking in the car, and almost not at all since we arrived at the penthouse. She’s had a death grip on her phone ever since she woke up and is constantly checking it, I assume, for word from her mother.

“Are you okay?” I give in and go to her, take her phone and toss it next to her bag, then rest my hands on her waist. “You’re worried about your mother, aren’t you?”

She bites her lip and nods, her eyes filling with tears. I wipe them away as quickly as they fall, but it’s hard to keep up.

“She’s not one to go radio silent like this. And with everything going on, and the letter….” She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t need to. If I had that kind of relationship with my mother, I’d be beside myself with worry too. Just the thought of my mother starts to fill my mind with hatred, and I have to push those thoughts away. Now is not the time for my own mother issues.

“We’ll find her. Don’t worry.” I pull her into a hug, savoring the feel of her against me and wanting to pour all my strength into her. I want to give her everything she needs to feel safe. For all of her outer bravado, I can tell that she can also be fragile and delicate and needs to be handled with extreme care. People with the toughest exteriors sometimes only hold them up with a bit of duct tape and a wish. “Try to get some sleep if you can. I’ll be right next door if you need me.”

She nods against my chest with a sniffle, and it almost breaks me to turn and go to my own bedroom. The last thing I want to do is leave her alone. What I want to do, is hold her and never let go.

Chapter 28

YOU SHOULD KNOW WHERE I’M COMING FROM

NORMANDY

I’m waking up slowly, and I’m crying. I can feel my tears sliding back into my hair, but I don’t want to open my eyes. If I open my eyes, I’ll see that I’m not at home; neither in my apartment in Sacramento nor my father’s house, and I don’t want to recognize how truly lost I am.

Echoes of the nightmare that woke me replay on the screen in my mind, my mother hurt, Chelsie, bleeding and not responding, Brandon…. A sob breaks free from my chest, and I turn on my side and pull the covers closer, trying to keep quiet as I hide my face in the pillow.

“Hey…. None of that.” Brandon’s low voice is almost a whisper, and I sense the bed dip slightly as he crawls under the covers with me. A warm hand glides around my waist, and he pulls me back against him, holding me tightly as I cry, the tears unstoppable now as they flow freely. “I heard you…Did you have a bad dream?” His breath skims my neck as he speaks, and then his lips brush my shoulder with light kisses.

I can’t help but turn over and bury myself in the refuge of his arms around me. Allowing myself to feel protected in the safe haven that he represents in a way I’ve never felt before in my life. I’ve never been able to trust anyone with my vulnerability like this, and it scares the shit out of me.

“I did have a bad dream, but that’s not all….” Yes, the nightmare was distressing, but I need to clear the air. I can’t believe I want to talk to him about this. I need to let him know what he’s getting into with me. If this is going to go anywhere between us, all of this needs to be laid out in the open. It’s always buyer beware, but he’s looking at damaged goods when it comes to me. It’s only fair.

“What else is there?” The concern in his words and the solidness of his body against me give me a little more courage to open up.

“You scare me, Brandon.” I swallow hard and wipe the tears off my cheeks before he can get to them. “I can’t…. I don’t…. My previous relationships have been….” I can’t bring myself to finish a sentence. There isn’t an adjective strong enough to describe how painful my history has been and why I’ve learned to be the one to leave first. I glance up and get stuck in an intense stare with him, trying to express all this hurt without words. The tears continue to fall, and I give up trying to catch them all.

“You can talk to me.” He brushes the hair out of my face, removing the strands stuck to my tears carefully.

And for the first time in my life, I tell someone about my pain. I trust someone with my heart.

“I’ve been hurt so many times and in so many different ways. Emotionally and… So, I don’t put my trust in anyone. And I don’t get close. And I hurt everyone first now. Well, I break things off before they can get serious.….” I drift off, not wanting to relive all the horrors I’ve experienced in any detail. I’ve never revealed this to anyone, and I feel so vulnerable right now. I do not like this feeling.

He reads my eyes carefully, taking it all in. After a while, his expression morphs from concerned to enraged, and I can feel his body tense against me. “Who the fuck could do this to you?” His nostrils flare as he growls, and he squeezes me tighter. “I’m not kidding when I say I want names. Please tell me it wasn’t physical.”

It’s my turn to tense up as I hesitate before I answer. I wasn’t expecting such a visceral reaction from him, and telling him the truth might push him over the edge. I don’t want to describe any of this, so I just nod slightly but clarify, “That was only once and wasn’t sexual….” I’m not proud of letting myself get into that kind of relationship, and I’ve told nobody about it until this minute.

“Jesus, Normandy. Once is too many.” He pulls me against him, and his strong arms and solid chest become a sanctuary I didn’t know existed in this world. I never knew that just the act of being held by someone who knows your truth would be so comforting and healing.

He pulls away from me sharply, framing my face with his hands, ensuring he has my attention.

“I would never.” He’s so stern his voice cracks with the passion behind his words. “Fuck. I would never. I can’t believe anyone would…. For fuck’s sake, no wonder….”

“I know.” I nod and reach up to stroke his cheek. The protectiveness for me that he just displayed moved something inside of me. Any ice that may have lingered around my heart because of my past was just melted by his emotions. “I figured you should know what you’re….”

His lips gently steal the end of my sentence as his kiss consumes me, instantly chasing all negative thoughts out of my head. As the kiss and his touch change from lingering to greedy, all thoughts are replaced by a desire that shoots from my core to my brain and back, leaving my spine tingling in its wake.

He slowly shifts and covers me with his body, nudging my legs apart with his knee and settling over me. The sensation of his rigid erection rubbing firmly against my center through his pajama bottoms leaves me aching for more. I slide my hand between us, stroking his silky length, and his breath catches against my mouth.

Pushing up as he grinds into my hand, his biceps and shoulders flexing with the movement, he groans softly on an exhale, “I want you, Normandy. No, I need you.”

Something in me stirs at his words, and I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down to whisper in his ear, “Then take me.” His rhythmic movements falter for a moment, but he composes himself quickly, drawing back to study me. A small smile plays on his lips, but it’s controlled. Everything about him is so controlled and deliberate and always decisive. My brain seems to spin when I’m around him, and I lose control of my senses.

He leans to the side, deftly opens the nightstand drawer, and pulls out a condom. I take the opportunity to admire his smooth bare chest and drag a finger along his rib cage, making him flinch but flash a dimple. So, he’s ticklish, good to know….

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