Havoc Page 10

“I’m scared to be. What if I throw it out there and in the heat of the moment he doesn’t want it?” Rejection is a huge fear of mine. My dad and grandfather always rejected me. If I get the same thing from Holden, I might as well die.

  Whitney rolls her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He isn’t going to reject you, Leighton. You’re beautiful. Plus he wouldn’t have married you unless he wanted to. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  There’s everything for me to worry about my brain says. But these women aren’t going to understand because they didn’t grow up in the same kind of situation I grew up in.

  “Leighton,” Whitney reaches over and grabs my hand, “what happened to your mom?”

  The question catches me off guard. No one ever asks me about her anymore, and it’s been a long time since I talked about her. I think about her almost every day, but talking about her is a different situation altogether.

  “If I overstepped, please tell me. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I get the feeling her not being around is affecting you when it comes to your husband.”

  For a long time, I think about what I want to tell them. Should I make it sound less harsh than it really is? Should I play it off like it doesn’t matter? Then I realize it does matter. Rejection has been a part of my life for a long time, starting with her.

  “She left one day to go to the grocery store and never came back,” I whisper, licking my suddenly dry lips. “I was eight, and Brooks was two. She told me she was bringing home ice cream.” I give them a sad smile. “So I sat by that door waiting on her, I could taste every flavor of the Neapolitan, because it was my favorite. It was the one she always brought home. It was a hot, summer day, and I was looking forward to it. She left when the sun was high, and I sat there until the sun went down and my dad came home. I asked him where mom was, and he told me she left us because we’d been bad. We were told to never speak of her again, and now everything she’d done was my responsibility. I never saw her again.” I finish the rest of my story with a whisper.

  Blaze wipes tears away from under her eyes. “Where do you think she is?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “Part of me hopes she’s dead, because I don’t know how a mom could leave us with my dad and grandfather, knowing what they do, and not look back. Another part hopes she got out and lived the life she wanted to. My dad has never been a soft man.”

  I can’t even cry anymore, because I’ve spent most of my life crying about it. Usually late at night when I know others can’t hear me, but it’s a hole I have that I’m not sure will ever be filled. I lean down, kissing Stella on the head, sniffing at the smell of her shampoo, and letting it center me. I know Whitney will never leave her daughter.

  “Because of that, I’ve lived with this fear of rejection, because that’s what it felt like when she left a big, fucking, rejection. The next morning, I was expected to run a household, and I did it, but sometimes I didn’t do it right, or I had lessons to learn.” I hold my chin high. “It was hard, but I did it, and at this point in my life, I can’t take anymore rejection. Especially not from the person I want to be accepted by so much.”

  The table is quiet and I wonder if I’ve shared too much, until Whitney squeezes the hand she still holds. “I’m sorry you had to live through that, and now that I’m a mother, I can tell you without a doubt, she didn’t leave you. Something prevented her from coming back. And I can also tell you, Holden will never reject you.”

  I want to believe her, want to believe Holden and I are the real deal and we will be forever. As I open my mouth, someone comes into The Café, looking around. “I’m looking for a Leighton Thompson.”

  “Tha…that’s me.” I hold up my hand. Surprised when I see what the man carries.

  “I have a delivery for you. I just need you to sign here.” He sets a bouquet of flowers down on the table in front of me. Fumbling, I take the pen he pushes in my direction and sign my name quickly. Just like that, he’s gone, and I’m left staring at the gorgeous arrangement now blocking Whitney’s face.

  “Hand her over, so you can open the card.” She reaches for Stella.

  My hands shake as I open the card attached to the fresh flowers. They smell absolutely amazing. In handwriting I’ve come to recognize as Holden’s there’s a message.

  I know it’s been a few weeks.

  Thank you so much for taking care of me!

  It’s been a long time since anyone did.

  Here’s a thank you for it.

  I hope you love it!

  Holden

  “They’re from Holden.” My captive audience is hanging on my every word. I shuffle through the envelope and let loose with a small shriek when I see what else is included. He remembered what we talked about, the movie we watched. He got us dance lessons.

  I pull out my phone, hands shaking as I text him.

  L: I can’t believe you did this. Thank you for the flowers, for the lessons…

  H: Thank you for taking care of me, and just remember…those lessons are one night only.

  I laugh loudly, holding the vouchers up for the girls to see.

  “Girl,” Blaze levels me with a look, “I don’t know who’s got it worse…you or him. But you’ve both got it bad.”

  Do we? I can’t think about it right now. Disappointment would ruin this moment. All I want for now is excitement, and as I look at the date on the lessons and realize they’re in a couple of nights. Excitement is all I can feel.

  * * *

  My shift is over in fifteen minutes, and I’m doing the last of my cleanup, getting the last of my papers together. Today I want to clock out quickly, because I’m so excited about the gift Holden gave me. Just as I finish sweeping up my section, the door opens and in walks Ace.

  “Hey.” He hitches his chin at me.

  “Hey.” I smile back, but on the inside cringing when he sits in my section.

  “Is this yours or Violet’s?” He asks quietly as he grabs a menu.

  “The section?” I ask, to make sure I understand what he’s saying.

  “Yeah.”

  “This one’s mine, if you want hers, you need to sit over there.” I point to two booths over.

  Without a second glance, he puts the menu up and strolls over, having a seat in the booth. I tilt my head, studying him. “You know she’s married?”

  “I know,” he nods, “I also know she deserves better.”

  I wonder how he knows that, but I don’t have time to ask as Violet comes out from the back. She stops in her tracks as she spots Ace.

  “I can get him if you want me to,” I offer. I get the feeling Violet has enough trouble at home.

  “No,” she clears her throat, voice strong, “I’ve got it. You can clock out.”

  Ace is someone I trust, so I do, but I have to wonder just what in the hell those two are doing. Even if it is none of my business.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Havoc

  Glancing at the cell phone I hold in my hand, I check the time again. “Leigh, we gotta go if we’re gonna make it.”

  I hate to rush her, but these lessons weren’t cheap, and I know she wants to do them. With a drive to Birmingham tonight, we’re going to cut it close if we don’t leave soon.

  “I’m coming,” she yells from the bedroom. “Do you think this is okay?”

  I look up from where I was texting with Mason and let out a wolf whistle. I can’t help it, it’s just a natural reaction to what’s standing in front of me. Her long, dark hair is in soft curls, framing her face. Her makeup is more dramatic than I’ve ever seen it, causing her eyes to look huge, brighter than they ever have before. The dress she’s put over her body is showing curves that I rarely get a chance to look at openly. It’s low-cut up top and comes to a stop around her knees, a burgundy color, showing off the tan most of us keep year-round down here. On her feet are flats, thank God, because I don’t want to worry about her breaking an ankle doing this. For a few long m
inutes, I can’t find my voice. All I can do is take her in and realize this woman is mine. For as long as I want her, she’s fucking mine. A lightbulb clicks in my head and it’s clear as day how lucky I am, and how much I want her forever.

  Getting up from the couch, I stalk over to her, admiring the way she fills out the clothing she’s wearing, loving the way she takes a bit of a step back when I get into her space. It’s not a step back because I’m invading, it’s an inviting step. She grabs hold of my button-down and holds me close to her. Tilting her head back so she can see me, we look at each other for what feels like hours, until I angle her chin just right and lean in, sampling a taste of the dark red lips in front of me. A hint of her flavor and I’m like a crack addict taking a hit, immediately the need floods into my body and I run my hands down, stopping at her hips. Curling my hands around her waist, I push her back against the wall, before I move them down to the hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs.

  “Holden,” she pants, pulling our mouths apart from one another. There’s so much emotion in the way she says my name.

  “I know.” I move my mouth down her neck, connecting with the flesh there. “We gotta go.”

  “I’m almost ready to say fuck the class.” She closes her eyes and slams her head back against the wall.

  “Me too, sweetheart, but this has been something I think you’ve wanted to do for a while, and I don’t want to be the person to keep you from it.”

  I lean in so that our foreheads touch and take a fortifying breath. “But to answer your question, you look amazing. I think it’s perfect.”

  She gives me a smile, one that shoots straight down to where my dick is hard. “Glad you like it.”

  “Love it,” I amend. “I love it. You look like some nymph, ready to tempt me into anything.”

  “If only it were that easy.” She runs her hand down my chest, hooking her fingers into the belt holding my jeans up.

  “It is that easy,” I breathe into her ear. “You can talk me into whatever you want.” Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to tell the woman who could hurt me more than any other, but what’s this life without honesty between us.

  “Let’s go,” she whispers, pulling that full bottom lip between her teeth.

  I push off from the wall, holding my hand out to hers. “C’mon.”

  * * *

  “We’re the youngest here by like thirty years,” she giggles into my ear as we wait for the instructor of the class to tell us what to do.

  “Maybe thirty years for you, more like twenty for me,” I laugh back with her.

  It feels good to be here in this setting. She’s standing next to me, my arm around her, holding her close. I kiss the top of her head, just because I want to. I don’t know what it is about being out of Laurel Springs, but I feel like I can be free with her here, that if anyone sees us there’s no judgement. I think that’s more for her than for me though, to be honest.

  “How long have you two been married?” One of the older women asks as we wait for our next instructions.

  “About seven months,” Leighton answers for us.

  “Still newlyweds! Did you dance at your wedding?”

  “No ma’am,” I answer. “We had a shotgun wedding.” I give her a smile.

  “Doesn’t look like it was too much of a shotgun, otherwise you’d be holding a baby right now, or she’d look like she’s about to pop.”

  Leighton grins up at me. “It was more a family situation. Think Romeo and Juliet.” She laughs as she grabs hold of my hand and pulls it around her waist. “Holden is a cop, and let’s just say my family is not always on the right side of the law.”

  “Oh, how romantic!” She puts her wrinkled hand on Leighton’s and looks up into Leighton’s face. “I bet the two of you were sneaking off, away from your families, enjoying your little trysts on your own. How does it feel not to have to hide it anymore?”

  “It feels good.” I lock my gaze with Leighton’s. “Not having to pretend like I don’t care for her, not having to worry who sees us kiss. It’s all a new kind of freedom we’ve never had before. We’re still not sure how to deal with it.”

  Which is totally the truth. We’re all over each other one minute, the next we’re shy. I hope that gets better the more comfortable we are in our new roles.

  “You kiss her every chance you get, you tell her you love her every day, and always make time to make sure she’s okay,” the older woman says slowly. “And you, my dear,” she looks at Leighton, “try to dress up for him once in a while, ask him how his day has gone, and don’t make him ask you for a blowjob. Offer it, and do it better every time.”

  Leighton gasps and turns her face into my chest. I bet hers is just as red as mine is. “Thank you for the advice.” I chuckle, as I run my fingers through her hair, soothing her as the older couple walks off.

  “Oh my God,” she looks up, her chin against my chest, “did she really just say that?”

  “She did,” I laugh into her hair. “And ya know, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, if you felt like it was something you needed to do.”

  She smacks me in the stomach. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

  The instructor reels us back in, and we stand there listening. “What I want you to do is listen to the music, let it move you, let it show you the way you want to go. There’s no right or wrong here. Dance a salsa, do a tango, or just sway in your lover’s arms, however you feel comfortable.”

  A slow song comes over the studio speakers. “I don’t think I’m good enough to do a salsa, or a tango, but I would love to have you sway in my arms,” I tell her the truth.

  “I think I’d like that a lot.” She slides her arms around my neck and we sway like two teenagers at a middle-school dance. I cherish this, these stolen moments we have. It what we have because we didn’t get to date, didn’t get to have memories made with each other in them. As we live our day-to-day now, those are the memories. And this is one I want to remember forever.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Leighton

  I’m dragging ass this morning, after Holden and I were out late last night at the class he arranged for us. I would do it again though, in a nanosecond. If I could just get myself to wake up.

  “I can’t believe I agreed to a shift this early on a Saturday,” Caleb complains as he enters my car on the passenger side.

  “Totally agree, but look at it this way, you can come home after you’re done and take a nap. It’ll be so early in the day you’ll be able to go do something after you wake up.”

  “Kinda like having a two-a-day.” He grins at me.

  This morning I’m starting to see the man he’s growing into, and he’s going to be a heartbreaker, especially with a dad like Mason. He has a little bit of peach fuzz on his angular jaw and I don’t think he brushed his hair. As a football player, he’s building up his muscles, and I’m pretty sure that within the next six months he’ll be able to get any girl he wants.

  “Yeah, like a two-a-day,” I agree.

  At the end of the driveway, I stop to let a truck pass before I pull out onto the main highway. When I get a glance at the driver, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. It’s my dad. He offers me a wave that I don’t return. Instead, I turn to check the blind spots on both sides before I take the road to town.

  “Who was that?”

  Caleb has the instincts of a cop. If this football thing doesn’t work out for him, he’d be a welcome addition to the force – I’m sure of it. My dad isn’t someone I like to talk about, but I feel like Caleb and I have gotten close. We’ve become very good friends in the short time we’ve been working together, and I always want to treat him like an adult.

  “My dad.”

  He picks at a string hanging on his athletic shorts. “Ya know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have to choose between a mom or a dad. Like my mom left, and I never knew her, but as much as my dad gets on my nerves, I don’t know what I would do without him.” His deepen
ing voice is getting contemplative this morning.

  “You’d learn to live, kid. That’s all you can do.”

  “Is that what you’ve done? I notice you don’t have a relationship with your dad.”

  “It’s what I had to do. My dad wasn’t like yours. He wasn’t on the right side of the law. He broke it every chance he got, and it was dangerous.”

  This is the first time I’ve really talked about my home life, and it doesn’t escape me that I’m talking about it to Caleb. No matter how young he is, we share a piece of our lives that no one else should ever have to share.

  “Is your mom alive?” I ask, because it’s been bothering me for a while.

  His jaw hardens, a tick appearing against the strong line. “Dad doesn’t talk about it. I don’t know,” he finally admits. “I stopped asking, I get the feeling she couldn’t handle life with a kid.”

  “If she knew what an amazing kid you are, she’d be kicking herself for ever leaving you.” I grab his hand.

  “Problem is, she’ll never know.”

  “Maybe one day she will,” although I don’t exactly believe my words, “maybe you’ll be the one in a million whose mom decides to come back and find out what you’ve been doing with your life.”

  He glances over at me, that young face so serious. “I don’t know if I’d welcome her back.”

  I’m not sure I blame him.

  Havoc

  This morning, I’m sucking down the damn coffee. I wish I would have looked at the dates of that dance class a little better. This was my early morning and I was thirty minutes late.

  L: I need so much more sleep. The caffeine isn’t working.

  I grin as I read the text message from Leighton.

  H: I totally agree with you. Take a nap when you get home from work.

  L: I have a paper due :(

  She’s so dedicated to what she wants to do. Makes me so fucking proud of her.

  H: Write your paper, I’ll bring something home for dinner, and we can crash early.

  L: We’re sounding like one of those old, married couples. I’m not taking that woman’s advice. What if you leave me for a more exciting wife?