Текст книги "Hold on tight"

Автор книги: Abbi Glines

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Prologue

“Open them wider,” Dustin panted in my ear as he pressed my left knee against the leather backseat of

his car. I thought we had this down by now, but sometimes he wanted something different. So I had to

adjust. Also, keeping my head in the game was hard to do.

In the beginning it had hurt. Now it was just uncomfortable. But I loved Dustin, and he wanted sex.

So I gave it to him. Which meant a few nights a week he pinched my nipples really hard, then did the

deed and we were done. Being close to him made it worth it. I had felt so disconnected from him

lately that this helped ease my mind. When we were back here together, we were okay again.

“Like this?” I asked, moving my leg up to rest along the top of his backseat.

“Fuck, yeah. Like that, baby. Just like that. You’re always so damn tight. It’s almost impossible to

get inside you.”

I agreed with him. Which was why it was so uncomfortable. It seemed like there must be

something to make it slide in easier. But he never mentioned that, so I didn’t ask.

“Fuck, uhhhh, yeah . . . God, babe, so good, uhhhh! GAAAAH!” he cried out loudly as he threw his

head back and his eyes rolled into his head.

That meant this was over. He was done. Thank God.

When he moved off me, I quickly sat up in case he wanted to go for round two. I felt like he had

made me do splits this time. I didn’t want a round two.

“You do know we’ll get married one day, right?” Dustin said as helped straighten my skirt, then

handed me my panties.

I had never told him how unsure I was about us having sex all the time, but he knew me too well.

He had been my best friend all my life, and when our relationship had progressed into something

more, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone.

I had loved Dustin Falco since we were kids, so it only made sense that he and I would evolve into

this—even if I wasn’t sure this was what I wanted. Our relationship had changed so much over the

past two years.

Or maybe it was just that Dustin had changed so much over the past two years.

Sometimes I didn’t recognize him anymore. The boy across the street wasn’t the easygoing,

trustworthy friend I’d always adored. He was the record-breaking basketball star who already had

college scouts checking him out his sophomore year of high school. Girls wanted him, and boys

wanted to be him. He basked in the attention. He knew he was special and he wasn’t humble about it.

But I loved him. So I accepted this change. At least, I was doing my best to. Even if it meant he

only had time for me when he wanted to have sex. The rest of the time he was busy playing basketball

–and drinking with his friends, which was something I wouldn’t do. I drew the line at going to the

parties he attended. I had gone to two of them with him, and he had gotten so trashed that I had been

forced to walk home by myself. If I didn’t come home by curfew, my parents would ground me until I

turned thirty.

They trusted Dustin, but they had no idea who he really was. Not anymore. My parents would never

be okay with me going to parties. My curfew was earlier than everyone else’s. It frustrated Dustin, but

he always assured me that it was okay, that he’d work around it.

“You’re not talking again, babe. That means you’re upset. What’d I do this time?” Dustin asked as

I tugged my panties back into place.

“Nothing. Just lost in thought. I’m not upset,” I assured him. This was what I always did: made sure

he was happy and worry free.

He leaned over and touched the side of my face. The gentle look in his eyes reminded me of the boy

I’d fallen in love with years ago. “You’re my one, Sienna Roy. My one and only. You know that,

right?”

I nodded. He had been telling me that since our first kiss. A first kiss that might not have happened

if Dustin’s older brother, Dewayne, hadn’t been showing me attention. It wasn’t that kind of attention.

Not the kind he showed the girls his age. Dewayne was a senior our freshman year of high school. He

and his pack of friends ran the school. They owned it.

On our first day of high school, Dustin had left me behind to hang out with the basketball team and

the older guys who were more than willing to bring him into the fold. I was the girl who didn’t know

many people because of my strict parents. Dewayne, however, found me in the hallway at school that

day. He helped me get through it. For my first lunch in the big cafeteria, Dustin had gone to sit with

his new friends and not invited me. I was extremely intimidated by the place, so I found a spot by a

tree outside to eat my lunch. Alone. Until Dewayne Falco found me and sat down beside me. It was

that way for a while. But the more attention he showed me, the more attention Dustin began to show

me. Soon I was Dustin’s girl.

“I love you, baby. You’re my girl. I hate that we have to rush and I can’t take you to a bed and

surround you with candlelight. That’s what you deserve. It’s what I want for you. But right now we

have to sneak around your parents. One day you’ll be free. We won’t have them watching your every

move.”

I nodded. He was right. One day I would go to college and my father’s overprotective eyes

wouldn’t be trained on me. He would have to let me make my own choices.

“I love you, too,” I told him.

He grinned, then leaned in to kiss me. It was a soft peck. After sex Dustin liked to treat me as if I

were a treasure. He never wanted me to doubt that he cherished me. It was these few moments that

made the rest of it worth it. Because the truth was, I didn’t like sex. It was uncomfortable and painful,

and I didn’t understand why girls liked it so much. From the look on Dustin’s face whenever he got

off, I could see that it was fantastic for him. But I never had that feeling. Aside from enjoying seeing

him feel pleasure, I dreaded having to do it.

“We have fifteen minutes to get you home,” Dustin said. This was a nightly ritual with us. He

would take me home, then run off to a party or to go play basketball. It was painful to imagine him

being around other girls, drinking and staying out late. I had told him once that it worried me that he

would get tired of my parents’ rules and break up with me. He’d assured me he loved me and only me.

Always.

“Fuck!”

I jerked my head around, startled by his outburst, to see him holding up his used condom. The come

that was supposed to be neatly inside was coating the outside of the latex.

“Motherfucking condom broke,” he swore, before slinging it out the window. “That’s the second

time this has happened with the box I bought last week. I’m getting a different brand,” he grumbled.

“I didn’t know another one had broken,” I said, trying to remember the time spent in the back of

Dustin’s car the past week.

His face paled a moment, and then he shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry you. It pissed me off and I

forgot. But that’s twice now. I’ll get us new ones. Don’t worry,” he said with a wink, then tugged his

jeans up and fastened them.

“Let’s get you home.” He opened the door and climbed out, before reaching in and taking my hand

to help me. Once we were both standing outside, he wrapped his arms around me and inhaled deeply.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sienna. I love you so goddamn much. You’re my center. You

keep me focused and grounded. I can trust you with anything.”

This was the Dustin I knew. My best friend. The guy across the street I had known all my life. Not

the popular jock who drank too much at parties.

I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, and he still had to lean down so I could reach his lips. Dustin was

already two inches taller than his older brother. The Falco boys were tall. But Dewayne had wider

shoulders and the kind of muscles that only men had. Dustin was still a boy. But he was my boy.

Still, that didn’t keep me from looking at Dewayne whenever I could get away with it. When

Dewayne was outside washing his car, I was up in my room watching from behind the safety of my

curtains. Any chance I had of getting a glimpse of Dewayne, I secretly took it.

The day Dewayne sat down beside me at lunch, he had become my hero. He had come to rescue me.

And since then he had stepped in and saved me more than once. Having this guy who seemed larger

than life always there to help me did things to my heart I couldn’t control. Even though I tried to stop

feeling things for him. I just couldn’t.

I was in love with Dustin Falco, but I was in complete idol worship over his older brother, a fact I

could only admit to myself. He was the kind of beautiful that a girl couldn’t ignore.

* * *

That night after I was tucked into bed and my thoughts drifted to fantasies of Dewayne (because this

was the only time I allowed myself to mentally cheat on my boyfriend with his older brother), I heard

the sirens. You didn’t hear sirens a lot in Sea Breeze. It was a small town, and rarely did the

ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks have cause to run off to the same location. But the louder they

got, the more serious I realized it was. Getting out of bed, I went to my window and looked down the

road. I could hear them, but I couldn’t see them. All I knew was they were close.

The noise didn’t fade, but instead grew louder as more emergency vehicles joined in. I wrapped my

blanket around me and sat down on my window seat to wait. I couldn’t sleep with all the noise, and I

decided saying a prayer for whoever was the cause of this was important. My parents had raised me in

church, and I completely believed in prayer.

Just as I closed my eyes my bedroom door opened, and I turned to see my mother standing there

with a look of horror on her face. Was my dad home? I stood up as fear gripped me, and I met her

gaze. “What’s wrong, Momma?” I asked. “Is Daddy here? He is, isn’t he?”

She nodded. “We’re all here,” she said, then put her hand on her heart and took a deep breath.

“That’s not . . .” She stopped and closed her eyes. I let the blanket fall to the ground and started to go

to her. She was scaring me.

“Momma, tell me what’s wrong,” I begged.

She lifted her eyes, and I saw the unshed tears shining in them. “It’s Dustin, sweetheart.”

“Dustin?” I asked, stopping and grabbing the first thing I could find to steady myself.

She nodded. “Your daddy just got off the phone with the pastor. He’s on his way to the Falcos’

now. Dustin wrapped his car around a tree,” she said, her voice trailing off.

He wrapped his car around a tree? How did he do that? I had just been with him two hours ago.

“But is he okay?” I asked as the sirens continued to mock me. With all those emergency vehicles out

there, how could he be okay?

Momma shook her head. “No, Sienna. He’s not okay. He’s . . . he’s gone, honey.”

Chapter One

Six years later . . .

SIENNA

I never expected to step foot in Sea Breeze, Alabama, again. When my parents had packed my bags

and shipped me off to live in Fort Worth, Texas, with my mom’s sister, who I hardly knew, I had been

told I would return to Sea Breeze after the baby was born. What I hadn’t been told was that they

weren’t planning on my baby returning with me.

I glanced back at Micah, asleep in his car seat with his Darth Vader action figure clenched tightly

in his hand. Our life hadn’t been easy, but we had each other. I wouldn’t go back and do it any other

way. Micah was my life. He had healed me when I was sure nothing ever could.

Keeping Micah meant being disowned by my strict religious parents. My aunt wasn’t the most

affectionate person in the world, but she’d disagreed with my parents’ decision. I had been expected to

work and pay my own way, but at least she’d given us a roof over our heads.

Giving up on high school and getting my GED was my only option. My aunt Cathy was the

principal at the local high school and helped me get a trade school grant, so when Micah was eighteen

months old, I enrolled in beauty school. Before his third birthday I had a degree in cosmetology.

I owed my aunt more than I could ever repay her.

Micah and I moved out just last year and finally got an apartment of our own. I didn’t date because

I didn’t trust anyone around my son. I also felt guilty paying for a sitter when we needed that money

for more important things, like rent, day care, and food. It didn’t keep men from flirting, though, and

trying to get me to go out with them. Janell, the owner of the salon where I worked, said that the men

all thought I was playing hard to get. It just made them more persistent.

The truth was, I was lonely sometimes, but then Micah would smile and I’d see his father in him

and I’d remember that for ten years of my life I’d had someone. A very special someone. And now I

had Micah. I didn’t need anything more.

When the call had come two months ago from my mother to tell me about my father’s heart attack,

I hadn’t known what to feel. He had never met Micah, and now he never would. My mother had used

Dad’s life insurance money to move to a retirement community in central Florida. She’d given her

house to Micah and me.

Not one time did she apologize for deserting me when I’d needed her most, or for turning her back

on her only grandchild. But the fact that she had given the house to us meant something. I only hoped

one day she would realize what she was missing by not knowing him.

Janell had helped me by giving me a glowing reference, and I had managed to get a job in Sea

Breeze working at one of the most elite salons in town. I would be making more money, and I

wouldn’t be paying rent any longer. Our life would be better in Sea Breeze. Micah would get to grow

up in the small coastal town that I loved.

My only fear, and the one reason I almost didn’t come back home, was the idea of the Falcos seeing

Micah. Once I’d realized that my parents hadn’t been planning on me keeping my son, I sent a letter to

Tabby Falco, Dustin’s mother.

She never replied.

The first year of Micah’s life I wrote them countless letters and included pictures of him. He

looked so much like his father. I wanted them to see that Dustin wasn’t completely lost to us. He had

left a part of himself behind.

Not once did she respond.

A few times I’d almost worked up the nerve to call them, but if they weren’t replying to my letters,

then they didn’t want to talk to me. They didn’t want Micah. It had hurt even worse than my parents

not wanting him. I had hated the Falcos for their desertion. But then I’d learned to let go. Move on. Be

happy with my life. With my beautiful little boy.

“Momma? Where are we?” a sleepy little voice asked from the backseat of my twelve-year-old

Honda Civic.

“We’re home. Our new home,” I replied, pulling into the driveway of the house that had once been

my home and would soon be again.

“Our new house?” he asked with excitement in his voice as he wiggled in his seat to see better.

“Yep, baby. Our new house. Ready to go inside and see it?” I asked him, opening my car door and

getting out. It was a two-door, so I had to lean my seat forward to reach him in the backseat. He

unbuckled himself, then scrambled out of his seat and jumped out of the car.

“Do other people live in there too?” he asked, staring up at the two-bedroom wood-frame house

with wide eyes.

“Just us, kiddo. You’ll have your own bedroom here. Mine is right across the hall from yours.”

“Whoa,” he said, his eyes shining with amazement. Even when we had lived with my aunt Cathy,

Micah and I had shared a room. Once we’d moved into an apartment, a studio was all I could afford

with day care costs. This house was only twelve hundred square feet, but it was the biggest living

space he and I had ever had all to ourselves. The studio apartment had been a third of this size.

“Let’s go see your new room. We might need to paint it. Not sure what color the walls are,” I told

him. The last time I’d been in my old bedroom, it had been pink. Micah was determined that pink was

for girls and wanted nothing to do with it.

From my purse I pulled out the key that my mother had mailed me along with the letter and the

deed to the house. I took a deep breath before unlocking the door. Stepping back, I motioned for

Micah to go inside. “Check it out.”

His grin spread across his face as he took off running into the house, whooping as he saw the size of

the living room. Then he turned and headed down the short hallway. I paused at the door, unable to

ignore the house across the street any longer, and turned around to look at it. I didn’t recognize the

truck in the driveway, but then again, it had been six years. I was sure the Falcos were still there.

Mother hadn’t mentioned that they’d moved.

I wondered if they would speak to Micah when he played in the yard. Or would they ignore him like

they had since his birth? I wouldn’t tell him who they were. I hadn’t told him about my parents. He

didn’t know this had once been my home. He didn’t know he had grandparents. In preschool he had

been asked to tell the class about his grandparents, and when he’d told them about Aunt Cathy, he had

called her Aunt Cathy. The kids in his class had teased him, telling him that his aunt wasn’t his

grandparent. He’d come home confused and upset that he didn’t know who his grandparents were.

I had just told him he didn’t have any.

When he’d asked about his father, I had explained that God had wanted his father because he was

such an awesome man, so he had brought him to heaven to live there with him before Micah was born.

That had been enough for Micah. He hadn’t asked any more questions. He was happy with the

knowledge that his mother loved him unconditionally and that we were a family. It had been hard for

him when he saw that other kids had large families, but once he’d understood that each family was

different, he was okay with that.

“Momma! Momma!” Micah called out in excitement. “There’s a blue room. It’s a really cool blue

room too! It’s even got toys in it already!”

Toys? I closed the front door behind me and headed down the hall. Stepping into the bedroom that

had once been mine, I stopped and looked around me in awe. It was blue. A bright, happy blue. It had a

full-size bed and a matching wooden dresser. There was a blue quilt on the bed with orange

basketballs all over it, and in the center sat a basketball-shaped pillow. A toy box under the window

was open, with pirate swords, a baseball bat and glove, a large red fire truck, and what looked like a

big bag of Legos sticking out of it. An indoor basketball hoop sat in the opposite corner, with a ball

lying on the floor beside it.

Above his bed was painted MICAH.

“Do you think the people who used to live here left it for me? Or do we gotta give it back?” he

asked, a hopeful expression on his face. “And look, Momma, my name is already on the wall.”

Tears stung my eyes, and I had to swallow hard as I stood there taking in the room. I didn’t know

what to think. This was not what I had expected, but then again, I hadn’t expected to be given this

house, either. A white envelope caught my attention. It was leaning against the wall on top of the

dresser, with my name and Micah’s name written on it.

Walking over to it, I wiped at the tear that had escaped, and I tried to hide my face from my very

observant five-year-old. The envelope was sealed, so I slid my finger underneath and opened it up.

Sienna,

This is your home now. It doesn’t make up for the past or for the years I wasn’t there when you

needed me. But it is all I have to give you. I don’t expect to buy your forgiveness. This room is as

much for me as it is for Micah. I’ve always wanted to buy him things. Christmas presents and

birthday presents and gifts just because he is my grandson. I couldn’t do that, though. Not while I

lived with your father.

I won’t speak ill of your father—that is not what this is about. I loved him. He was a good man, but

he was a proud man and I had to respect that. I believe in my heart that if he had it to do over, he

would have done things differently. I hate that he never got to meet our grandson.

Please tell Micah that the room is his with love from someone who hopes she can meet him one day.

When you are ready, of course. If you are ever ready. I just ask that you can find it in your heart to

forgive me. I want to be a part of your lives.

My address and phone number are listed below. If you want to send me a letter or give me a call, I

would love that. Or maybe send me some photos of Micah. I have a photo album full thanks to your

aunt Cathy. He’s a beautiful one, but then, so is his mother.

Love always,

Mom

“Momma, why’re you crying?” Micah asked as he tugged on the bottom of my shorts.

I folded the letter and tucked it in my back pocket before bending down and looking at him.

He reached out and wiped my face with his little hands. “It’s okay if we can’t stay here. Just so I’m

with you,” he said. The sadness in his eyes hurt my heart.

This house was too good for him to believe. I grabbed his hands and squeezed them tightly. “This is

our home. The person who gave it to us did all this just for you. These are happy tears, not sad ones,” I

told him. I wasn’t ready to explain about his grandmother. I didn’t know how I felt about introducing

him to her. There was too much pain for me to deal with right now. But her words and this room

meant a lot. It didn’t make up for her abandonment, but knowing she loved Micah enough to do this

did help me consider letting her into our life.

“So I get to keep this? All of it?” he asked, looking around at the room again, his eyes wide with

wonder. We had even shared a bed up until now.

“Yes. All of this is yours. Just yours. You have your own space now. Your own bed. Even your own

closet.”

Micah walked over to his bed and ran his little hand over the quilt. He knew what a basketball was.

I had bought him one with my first paycheck. It was a part of his father I wanted him to have. “Did the

person who did this for me know my daddy was the best basketball player in the world?” he asked,

glancing back at me.

I nodded, biting back a smile.

“We’re gonna be happy here, Momma,” he said, then turned to go back to his toy box. I watched

him for a few minutes I watched him as he dug through the things my mother had left him. Then I

slipped out of the room to check out the rest of the house.

In the letter she’d sent with the house key and the deed, she’d told me she was leaving the furniture

behind. The place where she was living now was furnished. I wasn’t sure how I felt about sleeping on

my parents’ bed, but all I’d had was a mattress, and we’d left that behind in Texas.

Opening the door to the master bedroom, I froze before relief washed over me. It was my old bed,

dresser, and vanity. Even my old desk. She had moved it all into here, knowing I wouldn’t want their

things. The quilt on the bed was the same one that had been on my bed when I’d left six years ago. It

was pale pink with big daisies all over it.

I was home.

Present day . . .

DEWAYNE

I pulled my truck into my parents’ driveway and parked beside my dad’s truck. Normally, I tried to

come over and visit once a week. The past two weeks, however, I just hadn’t been in the mood.

Momma had broken down and cried the last time I was here, reminding us all that it was the six-year

anniversary of my little brother’s death.

The only way I knew how to deal with that was to get my ass drunk every damn night until I was

numb again. Until I was past the pain, and the empty space in my chest didn’t ache so damn bad. After

managing to stay sober for the past two nights, I decided I had better get back over here to see my

momma before she came looking for me.

That woman had a temper on her, and I didn’t need her coming after me. I wasn’t scared of much,

but Tabby Falco was someone I feared. Loved all five feet three inches of her, but I was terrified of

her. Glancing across the street, I noticed a beat-up white Honda Civic. It had seen better days. Nina Roy

had moved out about a month ago, just a few weeks after her husband’s death. Momma said she’d

gone to Florida. The place had sat empty for the past month. Was someone moving in? If so, that car

didn’t make it look like it was the good kind of neighbors. I might have to stop by and make sure my

parents were safe.

They didn’t need to be dealing with wild parties or a meth house from some trashy new neighbors. I

took a step closer and checked out the license plate. Texas. Now I was as curious as I was concerned.

Who the hell did Nina Roy sell her house to? I never even saw a For Sale sign in the yard. If she’d

rented it, we might really have a problem. Just last week three rented houses just an hour north of here

were busted for meth.

“What you gawking at our new neighbor’s car for? Get in here and see your momma!” I turned to

see my dad standing at the door with it wide open, an annoyed look on his face. Once upon a time I

wouldn’t have felt the need to protect the man. I wouldn’t have thought anything could touch him. But

then he’d had the stroke. Things had changed. I had officially taken over my dad’s construction

company, Falco Construction. Dad just couldn’t handle it anymore. He had always seemed larger than

life, but nothing had been the same since Dustin’s death.

“You met them?” I asked him, nodding toward the house across the street.

He shook his head. “Car showed up. Haven’t seen who was in it. No moving van or U-Haul. Just the

car. Sometime around noon yesterday. Car was gone at two today when I glanced outside, but then it

was back when I went to water the flowers at four.”

This was just getting worse. Someone had moved in without stuff. This wasn’t the best subdivision

in Sea Breeze, but so far it had been safe from things like meth houses. I wasn’t about to let that shit

find its way into my parents’ neighborhood.

“I’ll be right back,” I told him, and started across the street before he could stop me. Not that he

could stop me.

“Get back over here, boy,” he called, but I held a hand up.

“Just a sec. I need to check this out,” I replied, and kept my eyes focused on the door and the

windows. I didn’t want to spook whoever was inside and end up getting shot if they were in there

setting up shop.

Nina Roy should’ve thought about who she was letting move into this place. But then, I wasn’t sure

that woman had much of a heart, anyway. Her daughter had been shipped off shortly after my

brother’s death, never to return. They’d been best friends for most of their lives, and it had progressed

to the relationship stage. Word was, sweet little Sienna had suffered a mental breakdown and they had

sent her off to a facility. No one had ever seen her again. It wasn’t easy for me to accept for a long

time. Much as I hated to admit it, I’d taken her leaving harder than I should have. Especially knowing

what Dustin’s death had done to her. That was one more thing to add to my list of fuckups.

I knocked on the door and waited. I kept my eyes on the doorknob in case it slowly turned. If the

fucker had a gun, I was ready to disarm him. Before I could think about just how I would do that, the

door swung open and a pair of brown eyes were looking up at me with keen interest.

“Hi,” the little boy said, staring at me as if he wasn’t sure he had done the right thing by opening

the door.

This was not what I had been expecting. I hadn’t imagined a family had moved in across the street,

not from the looks of that vehicle. It didn’t look like a family car—it wasn’t safe for adults, much less

kids.

“Hi, your folks home?” I asked him, and he stared at me a moment longer before frowning.

“I don’t have folks. I have a momma, but she’s in the bathroom. She had to go pee. I probably

shouldn’t have answered the door.”

The kid was cute. And he was right. He didn’t need to be opening the door. And giving a complete

stranger that kind of information. If he had just a mother, then the car in the driveway concerned me

for other reasons. If that was all she had, how the hell had she afforded this house? It wasn’t an

expensive house or anything, but I’d think a used rental trailer would have been more in her price

range.

“Maybe in the future you should wait for her to open the door. You got lucky this time.” I pointed

at my parents’ house. My dad was standing on the front porch watching us. “That’s my parents’ house.

I was coming to meet the new neighbors.”

The kid peeked around my legs and looked at the house and my dad, then turned his attention back

to me. “You live with your parents? My momma ain’t got no parents.”

Again, more info than he needed to be sharing. Hell, did this woman not teach her kid not to talk to

strangers and spill her life story? It wasn’t safe.

“Probably shouldn’t tell strangers that, either, little man,” I told him.

He frowned and held out his hand as if to shake mine. “My name is Micah. What’s yours?”

Although he shouldn’t have been telling me his name, I couldn’t help but grin. The kid was a

charmer. I clasped his hand in mine and gave it a shake. “Nice to meet you, Micah. My name’s

Dewayne.”

His grin got huge. “Like Dwyane Wade? You know, from the Miami Heat?”

I didn’t keep up with basketball much, but I knew who Dwyane Wade was. I nodded.

“I wish I had a name that cool. But I would want to be named LeBron.”

“I take it you’re a Heat fan,” I said.

He nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah. I’ll be the best one day. My dad was the world’s best basketball

player. I will be too.”

I thought he’d said he didn’t have a dad. Just a mom.

“Micah?” a soft, feminine voice called.

The kid’s eyes got big and he spun around. “Yeah, Momma. I’m at the door with our neighbor. He

came to visit.”

I lifted my eyes from the kid just in time to see legs. Lots of fucking legs, all smooth and creamy

and encased in tiny little cutoff blue jean shorts. Holy hell. My eyes continued their upward track,

taking in the tiny waist and generous breasts barely covered up by a tank top before reaching her face.

Mary, Mother of Jesus. No. Fucking. Way.

I knew that face. It was older. She was a woman now, but I knew that face. Those bright blue eyes,

all that long, silky red hair, and those pink lips that made men, young and old, fantasize. But this . . .