Redemptive (Combative, #2)(54)
“Tell me again why the f*ck I’m standing in a stranger’s front yard kicking around leaves?”
I picked up a leaf, inspected it, then dropped it. “Remember that story she told you? About her mom and the leaves.”
He nodded, distracted by his task.
“So I gave her one once and she asked me to bring her one every day, so I do. But it’s getting cold now and most of the fall leaves are gone, and I’m just trying to find her the perfect one.”
For a long time, Tiny didn’t respond, and when I looked up at him, he was standing with his hands on his hips, his eyes wide. “Wow,” he said, then blew out a long, drawn out breath. “Nate DeLuca—the ladies man,” he sang. He chuckled, his fat gut bouncing with the force of it. “Most guys bring home flowers and diamonds, and you bring home leaves.”
I dropped my gaze to my shoes and the predominately dead leaves surrounding them.
He must’ve seen my reaction because he said, “Yo. I was kidding, Boss Man.”
I looked up at him. “You think I should buy her jewelry or something? I mean, I got her that bracelet, and I bring her charms every now and then, but maybe I should do more.”
He scoffed. “What the f*ck is Bailey going to do with jewelry? Bitches only want that shit so they can show off to their friends and Bailey has none so—”
He broke off when I scowled at him.
“Look,” he said, his hands up in surrender. “Who knows? Maybe leaves are Bailey’s versions of diamonds.”
I shrugged, but my ego was already deflated, and nothing he could say would change that.
“Why just one?” he asked, dropping to his hands and knees so he could take a closer look at the leaves.
“What do you mean?”
He held one up to show me, and I shook my head. It wasn’t good enough. Not for Bailey. Tiny asked, “Why do you just bring home one? And who’s to say that your version of the perfect leaf is the same as her version?”
I shook my head. “This might just be the dumbest conversation we’ve ever had.”
“Seriously, though,” Tiny said, taking a handful of leaves and pocketing them. He did this a few more times before adding, “If what I say is right, and the f*ckin’ leaves are her version of diamonds, then what bitch doesn’t want more f*ckin’ diamonds?”
“Don’t call her a bitch,” I snapped, earning me an eye roll.
“Sorry, Master,” he mocked, voice low as he struggled to get to his feet. “Doth me lady prefereth thy plethora of foliage?”
“You’re a f*ckin’ idiot, Tiny,” I told him, trying to contain my laughter. “Get the leaves and meet me in the car.”
“Yes, Your Honor!”
*
“So what exactly do you plan on doing with them all?” Tiny asked Bailey, a small pile of leaves on the floor between them.
Bailey lifted her gaze, her eyes meeting mine and the disappointment I saw in them had my heart dropping to my stomach. Her throat bobbed with her swallow, and she got to her knees, her movements slow as she reached out for a leaf. “I didn’t really have plans,” she mumbled.
I kneeled down next to her, leaves crunching beneath my weight as I brushed my fingers along hers. “Is something wrong?”
Her sad eyes lifted and locked on mine as she faked a smile. “I’m fine, baby.” She kissed me quickly, then went back to looking at the leaves. “I wonder if there’s a way we can preserve the color.”
*
Five YouTube tutorials later, Bailey had a plan, and Tiny had a shopping list he promised to take care of the next day.
The leaves sat in a much neater pile, in the corner of the room. As Bailey and I got into bed, Tiny’s words and her reaction still weighed heavily on my mind.
I lay on my stomach, one hand under the pillow, the other on her waist.
She rolled her head to the side, her smile still fake and her eyes still lost. I tried to find the right words to tell her what I was thinking and after minutes of silence, I gave up on the words and moved closer to her, my hand on her hip, pulling her toward me. I nuzzled into her neck as her hands landed softly on the back of my head. I’d never felt as appreciated as I did when her fingers laced through my hair and she whispered my name.
I moved my hand down her stomach, to the lace of her panties as she tilted her neck, making room for me. Her legs spread when my hand dipped into the waistband, her fingers gripping my hair tighter. My movements were slow, fingers gentle as they skimmed the lips of her *.
I wasn’t touching her to get her off.
I was doing it to appreciate her.
From the sounds she was making, and the motions of her hips, I knew she wanted more, I could smell the need pouring out of her. But I didn’t give it to her, not yet. Instead, I kissed her neck, up to her ear. And then, stupidly, I asked, “Do you want me to give you diamonds?”
Her body tensed beneath mine and mine did the same, my finger poised at her entrance. “What?” she asked.
I slid a finger inside her, relaxing the moment I felt her body do the same. “Or perfume. Or something?”
Her legs clamped around my hand, her fingers circling my wrists. “Nate,” she said, her voice firm. I looked up at her and wiggled my finger inside her, causing her to moan, but not to forget. “What are you talking about?”