Today's Promises (Promises #2)(3)

Flynn lowers his gaze, like he knows I’m not going to like the answer. “Uh, it’s over in Forsaken,” he says.

I make a face. I don’t like that answer.

Forsaken isn’t far, but it happens to be the town we ran away from. And frankly, I have no intentions of ever going back. I don’t want Flynn hanging out over there either, whether it’s for work or whatever reason. He was stuck in that blasted town the entire time Mrs. Lowry was blackmailing him.

“That place holds too many bad memories,” I mutter.

“Jaynie…” Flynn peers over at me, growing frustration clear on his face. “We could still live here in Lawrence. You’d never have to step one foot in Forsaken if you didn’t want to.”

“And I don’t,” I scoff, shaking my head.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?”

“Well, for one, how do you intend to get to work all the way over there every single day? It’s not like we own a car.”

“And we’re not ever going to own a car, Jaynie. Not if I can’t land a job paying more than working the counter in this place.”

I sigh, accepting the truth. “You do have a point,” I reluctantly admit.

Even though I hate, hate, hate the idea of Flynn working over in that wretched town five days a week, his argument for taking the job is valid. We’ve discussed it numerous times, and the fact remains that unless we plan on living in the single room above the sandwich shop forever, and unless we intend on relying on public transportation indefinitely, we need more cash coming in.

Flynn’s previously somber expression turns hopeful now that he sees I’m slowly coming around, albeit begrudgingly so.

“So here’s what I’m thinking…” he begins.

I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he works out a plan. It’s endearing, one of the many qualities I missed about him the past four months.

“Until we’ve saved enough for a car,” Flynn goes on, “I’ll just take the bus. There’s one that heads over to Forsaken every morning and returns every evening. It couldn’t get any easier, Jaynie. Almost like it’s meant to be.”

Oh, he’s laying it on thick. And I’m not surprised.

Flynn won’t do this unless I support him. It’s the way we work. And for all the wheels and cogs to run smoothly in this relationship, we also don’t hold each other back. Despite my own misgivings, which are really my own damn issues, I buck up and make myself muster some enthusiasm for Flynn’s plan.

It’s the least I can do after everything he’s sacrificed for me.

“Yeah,” I say, my smile forced but present. “Once we have a car, even if it’s some old jalopy, you can use that to get to work. I’d imagine that’d save us a lot on bus fares in the long run, right?”

“There is that,” Flynn says, shooting me a winning smile.

I smile back.

Damn, I am so easy, always won over by Flynn’s charm. And how could I not be? The guy may have been dealt a bad hand in some aspects of life—like losing his brother at his dad’s hands and ending up in foster care—but he sure is blessed in the looks department.

He wows me every day with his beauty, inside and out.

“So,” he goes on, oblivious to my inner fawning, “you’re absolutely sure that you’re fully onboard with me applying for this job?”

“Yes.” I stand and go to him.

Wedging my body between his strong thighs, clad in faded jeans, I reach out and touch his shirt. It’s the same steel-gray color as his eyes.

As I give him a good once-over, I notice something. “Hey, you’re wearing the same clothes you had on when I first met you.” I narrow my eyes, but all in good fun. “Did you plan that to win me over if I bailed on this Forsaken job thing?”

“No, no way.” He shakes his head, the ends of his sandy-brown hair brushing the back of his tee.

“Your hair is darker,” I say, touching his face. “And this scruff on your jaw grows in thicker than it used to.”

“Faster, too,” he adds.

“Yeah,” I murmur.

I don’t mention all the other changes, some due simply to better nutrition. Flynn’s gotten much taller, and he’s stronger than the day I met him—much stronger. Working construction while he was stuck in Forsaken has given him broad shoulders and far more muscle mass.

I’m changed as well. I’m still thinner than I should be, but I do have boobs and an ass, finally.

Not starving sure does make a difference in a person’s appearance.

“Oh, the lives we’ve led,” I whisper.

“And to think we’re only eighteen,” Flynn replies.

Sighing, I admit, “Some days I feel so much older, Flynn.”

“Yeah, babe. Me, too.”

Placing my hands on his shoulders and feeling all the hard muscles flex beneath, I tell this man, “I love you so much, Flynn O’Neill.”

“I love you even more, Jaynie Cumberland.”

I touch my nose to his. “Mmm, I don’t know if that’s possible.”

With his hands trailing down to cup the curve of my ass, he murmurs, “When’s your shift done?”

Wrought with innuendo, I know Flynn wants me.