A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(195)

Eva wanted nothing more than for Katherine to be loved in passionate, breathtaking ways. She wanted her consumed by love, desperate with it, unafraid to be made fragile by it, and filled with its strength. She wanted her to soar and spin and lose herself in a man who would love her just as much. She wanted it all for Katherine, and Katherine had it. But Wesley Carter couldn’t be further from the man Eva had imagined.

[page]After hearing his confession, her anxiety about the relationship had dropped considerably. The man had saved her baby, for God’s sake. When he’d been only eleven years old. She was grateful beyond description, but the momma bear within her refused to back down.

She wandered into the kitchen to find her mother and partner seated at the table. Two bottles of wine sat opened, as well as a bottle of Jameson. Her mother’s face was softer now.

“Hey,” Eva said softly. “Where is—?”

“She’s outside with Wes while he has a much-needed cigarette and a drink.” Her mother sighed. “Come. Sit down.”

Eva approached Harrison with a heavy stomach. It was love. It was guilt. It was embarrassment. It was apology. She sat down slowly and stared at his profile. Dark stubble flecked his jaw, and his dark brown eyes were troubled as they stared down at the glass of malt whiskey in his hands. They had so many things that needed to be said, but Katherine was her priority. She needed to make things right.

Eva glanced hesitantly at the back door.

“Tell her how you feel,” Harrison said, his eyes still fixed on the table.

“I don’t know how,” she confessed.

“Yes, you do.”

“We’re so far apart.”

“You’ll find each other again. Be honest.” He pulled off his hoodie and handed it to her. “It’s cold out there.”

Eva took it from him with a grateful smile. “I’m sorry, Harrison. And I love you. Very much.”

“I know,” he answered, looking at her for the first time.

She leaned forward and placed a tender kiss at the corner of his mouth. He turned in to it with a sigh. “Go,” he urged softly.

Reggie’s nails tapped happily against the floor as he followed Eva to the door. She dragged on Harrison’s hoodie—loving the smell and how it drowned her small frame—and slowly pulled the door open. Her eyes immediately found two closely huddled bodies sitting on the porch step.

Wes had his arm around her daughter while his lips murmured soft, inaudible words against her temple. The air smelled of smoke and cold. The door clicked shut behind her, causing Wes to turn.

Eva dipped her chin in acknowledgment before Wes did the same. Katherine looked over her shoulder, her expression indecipherable.

Wes kissed Katherine’s cheek and smiled. “I’ll give you two a moment,” he said before he stood, moving around Eva to the door.

“Thank you, Wes,” she said.

The door shut behind him, and Eva swallowed before she tentatively stepped toward her daughter. “May I sit?”

“If you want.”

Gathering her courage, Eva took the spot at Katherine’s side. For a few minutes, the two women sat in silence. How could she verbalize the love she had for her daughter? No mother ever could. It was vast, immeasurable, and impossible to label with inadequate words.

“Katherine,” Eva started quietly, petrified of saying the wrong thing. “I’m thankful you’re both here.”

Katherine remained quiet. Eva couldn’t read the profile of her face except for the small twitch of her lip. Danny would get the same thing when he was nervous. To think she made her own daughter feel that way ripped her heart in two.