So Much More(89)

I wait for her tears to come. They don’t. But mine do. I hold her tighter because I don’t know what else to do. I’m trained to receive bad news and make it better, more manageable. This isn’t bad news. This is horrific. The things human beings are capable of are incomprehensible. “I’m sorry, Faith. I’m so sorry.” I know it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t help. But I can’t sit here and not say anything.

“Do I disgust you now?” It’s the most timid whisper I’ve ever heard. It’s a question that only fears the worst and has already accepted a negative response.

“No. Never. Thank you for trusting me enough to share your past with me. Him, on the other hand? He absolutely disgusts me. Only the vilest type of person is capable of something like that.” It boggles my mind that people can willingly inflict harm on others. “When did you get clean?”

“That night. No drugs since. Though, I almost stumbled when I came back to California. It’s what led me to the shelter and meeting Benito.”

My eyes pop open at her mention of the shelter, and I release the hug. Hers are still closed over tear stained cheeks. It’s dark now, and the beach is empty around us. “Faith, open your eyes.”

Wet eyelashes cling together, but separate slowly to reveal glistening, deep blue eyes.

“You were living at the homeless shelter?” My heart just broke for her. Again.

She nods. “My lease was almost up. I didn’t have a job. I didn’t have much money. I didn’t have a choice.”

She didn’t have a choice? Why wasn’t I a choice? “You could’ve come to me. You should’ve come to me.”

She shakes her head, and her eyes soften. “Miranda was there. Hope said you were a family, which I realize now was a misunderstanding, but at the time, I didn’t want to interfere and cause any trouble for you and your kids.”

I swallow back bad choices and their domino effect. “Miranda. She’s like a bad penny. She needed a place to stay when she moved back and took it upon herself to claim my couch. I was desperate. I wanted my kids back, so I let her stay for a few weeks.”

She nods, understanding shining in her glassy eyes. “I get it, Seamus. You don’t need to explain. You did the right thing. Everything worked out, you have your kids again.” She blows out a breath and wipes her cheeks with her fingers. “And Miranda isn’t as bad as I first thought. Benito likes her. Hope likes her.” Even though I’ve known about Hope being Faith’s mother for a few weeks now, it’s still shocking to reconcile their relationship in my mind. “Miranda was the one who convinced her to take a job cooking in the kitchen at the shelter. It doesn’t pay much, but it’s the first real job Hope’s ever had. She loves it.”

“I’m glad you found your mom and got some answers.”

“Me too.” She smiles slightly. “Life blooms in second chances.”

I can’t help touching more of her, stroking the outside of her calves just to reinforce that this is happening. That she’s real. “It certainly does. You’re here with me.”

Her eyes are thoughtful when she opens her mouth to say something. Hesitation steals it away momentarily before she asks, “Do we get a second chance, Seamus? Knowing about my past, does that change the way you feel about me?”

I stand with the aid of my cane, brush the sand off my jeans, and offer her my hand. “Come with me. I can’t answer that question here.”

She takes it, and I pull her to stand in front of me. “Why not?” she asks as she brushes the sand off her dress and legs.

“Because you’re wearing clothes. And I’m wearing clothes. And my body is begging me to answer that question…in great detail…and at great length…with touch instead of words, behind closed doors in the privacy of my bedroom.”

Her lips part in response, and I watch the rise and fall of the swell of her breasts increase as arousal floods her being. “Seamus, do you have any idea how sexy you are?”





Those were the last words spoken that night, with the exception of Faith panting out, “We,” between kisses on the W…E mat.

As promised, I led her to my bedroom, closed the door, and removed every stitch of clothing between us. And for the next several hours I laid bare my soul in every touch…every kiss…every connection. I took away her doubts, quieted her fears, and promised a never-ending second chance.

All without a word.

And as we lay tangled up in the darkness, exhausted, but sated in all ways, Faith breaks the silence. “Seamus?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

I smile because she heard every touch loud and clear.





Magic sounds delicious





present





I’m armpit deep in horrendous, yellow, rubber gloves, scrubbing the inside of the oven. I attempted a soufflé for the first time without Hope. It threw up over the sides of the dish before burning to a crisp. The bottom of the oven paid the price, and brunch is in the trashcan. I hope this isn’t an indication of how this day is headed.

The doorbell rings.

I pop my head out of the oven and check the clock on the stove. They’re fifteen minutes early. Damn, I was trying to hide the evidence. I strip off the gloves and throw them in the oven, I won’t be using it at this point anyway.