Understanding Beauty (The Beauty Trilogy Book 2)

by Raven Scott

  Climbing in, I roll and cuddle up on his chest, tangling my legs with his. He sighs and kisses the top of my head. “Parker, can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me anything, Ro. You know that.”

  His heart beats against my chest a little fast, so I tighten my arms around him. “What are you most afraid of?”

  I sit up enough to look at him, my eyes searching his face while I process the question. When I don’t say anything, he cups the side of my face, gently flexing his fingers to tickle my scalp.

  I glance down at his chest and focus on one of his tattoos. “Death. Losing another person I love. The mere feelings that come with that.” Rogen’s arms go around me and he leans down to nuzzle his face into me. “It’s the loneliness that gets you. The realization that you can be standing in a room full of people and still be completely alone is crippling. It creates this monster inside you that comes with pain and guilt, and after that even the smallest amount of happiness can feel wrong. Like you’re betraying the person you lost. It’s like you’re drowning.”

  Rogen slides his fingers under my chin and tips it up until I look at him. “Baby, I can’t imagine what you feel, and I can’t promise you that nothing will ever happen. But I can promise you that you are allowed to be happy. You aren’t betraying anyone. And I will be here to stand by you for as long as this world allows me to.”

  “I know you will,” I whisper, bringing my hand up to rest on his chest.

  Rogen reaches over to turn out the lamp on his bedside table and snuggles down, pulling me closer to him.

  Moments like these change our relationship. I don’t know how exactly, but I can feel the shift. I want it to be for the better because I think I’m already in too deep with Rogen, and I don’t think I can ever let him go now.

  20

  Rogen has spent the last several days showing me just how much the other night meant to him. It was hard, admitting that death is my fear. I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that out loud before. A weight has kind of lifted off my shoulders, though. It’s like something says it’s okay to just live now because Rogen knows the deep, dark truth of why I react the way I do.

  Not that he didn’t before, but it seems more intimate now. Things between us are more.

  Today is Collins’s birthday, and I’m running around the flat in my underwear trying to find the gift we got for her.

  “Rogen! I can’t find the damn present! It was on my dresser and now it’s not,” I yell from the living room as I check all the shelves and drawers.

  “Baby, I put it in your bag after breakfast like you asked, remember?” he yells back from his bedroom.

  We still haven’t moved into one room. I’m not sure why, but I’m almost afraid to ask if he wants to take that step. But he did put the gift in my bag, which I forgot I even asked because right after breakfast, he went to shower and then came out in a towel. I ended up on my knees in front of the sink, sucking him off until he was begging me to cum.

  So technically, it’s not my fault I can’t remember shit from this morning.

  I turn and head back to my bathroom to start curling my hair. The sun I’ve gotten this summer has put some natural highlights in my blonde hair, and it looks really cute when it’s curled. After I’m done, I put on some light make-up and head back into my bedroom to get dressed.

  Rogen comes in and right over to me, grabbing my waist and running his fingers along the black lace of my panties. “Christ, you look fucking edible, Parker.” He leans down and trails kisses along my shoulder.

  “Mmm, don’t start that. We’re already running late,” I say, playfully pushing on his chest.

  He stands up and looks at me with a pout. “You know I can eat that pussy, and fuck you fast and hard, and we’ll only be ten minutes late.”

  My pussy pulses at his words and I bite my lips, shaking my head. “How about when we get home, you can eat this pussy and then fuck me hard for the rest of the night since I like that, to?”

  He groans and kisses me softly. “Fine. But when we get home tonight, you are all mine.”

  I smile against his lips and nod. “I’m all yours every night, Ro.”

  Walking into the bar an hour later, there is no doubt in my mind that my brother is head over heels and irrevocably in love with his wife. He’s transformed the entire inside of the building into a 1930s theme and demanded we all dress era-appropriate. Which explains why I am in a pink flapper dress with what Rogen calls come-fuck-me heels.

  Stopping inside the door, Rogen grabs my arm and pulls me off to the side. My eyes widen at the rectangular box he pulls from his pocket.

  “What’s that?”

  “I was too nervous to give it to you at the house.” He holds it out to me with a shaking hand.

  Taking the box and opening it, my eyes water at the double-wrap pearl necklace sitting inside. “Rogen . . . these are beautiful.”

  He gently pulls them from the box and clasps them around my neck. “Nowhere near as beautiful as you.”

  My hands go to the pearls and I run my fingers over them as Rogen kisses my cheek.

  “Parker!” someone yells from behind us.

  I turn around just as Sierra comes walking over to us, looking fabulous in her costume. Rogen reaches down and laces his fingers with mine. “What can I do for you?” My tone is cold despite the fact I should try to be nice given it’s Collins’s party.

  She raises a sculpted eyebrow. “Can I talk to you alone for a second?”

  I roll my eyes and look up at Rogen. Without even glancing at Sierra, he kisses me deeply before letting go of my hand and heading into the bar. I let my hands rest at my sides as I look up at her again. “This really isn’t the time or place for this, you know.”

  “I know. Listen, I just wanted to apologize for showing up at Rogen’s work that day. He’d told me he was sorta with you and I wasn’t ready to let him go. Ever since he cut things off, I’ve been trying to get him back, but . . . he’s happy with you. Happier than I’ve ever seen him. I don’t want to mess that up for him or you. You both deserve to be happy.”

  “I don’t know why he wants to be with me when he could have women like you, but I can’t imagine my life without him anymore,” I say trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.

  She smiles sweetly at me. “You don’t see it yet, but you will. The rest of us already do. Can you forgive me?”

  I nod and step forward to hug her. “Yes.”

  She smiles at me one more time before walking off, and before I can take three steps into the room, I’m grabbed on either side by Rain and Rowan.

  “Where is your big dicked man? I bet he’s looking fine as hell in his outfit,” Rain says, looping one arm through mine and fanning herself with the other. Rowan howls with laughter as my face heats with a blush. It’s clear they’re both a few drinks in already. “What time did you two start drinking?”

  “We are always drunk on life,” Rowan says with a wink. “But we may have had three or five cocktails. Are you late because you were having some cock-tails of your own?”

  “Good evening, troublemakers,” Rogen says, stepping in front of us. “What are you three whispering about?”

  “Not your dick,” Rain says with a slur.

  I roll my eyes and gently disengage from the two of them, stepping up to slide my arms around Rogen’s neck. “Ignore the drunk twins. We need to find your sister and then we can hang out with the lushes.”

  Both girls giggle and wrap their arms around each other as they head back to the bar. Rogen kisses my forehead and takes my hand, pulling me toward where Collins is sitting on a high chair with Cannon standing next to her. She looks absolutely breathtaking in a black flapper dress that shows off her baby bump, hair in loose ringlets that looks gorgeous against her dark, smokey eye make-up and deep red lips.

  “Happy Birthday, baby sis,” Rogen says as he leans forward to hug her.

  After he steps back, I hug her and pull her gift from my bag. �
�We hope you like it.”

  She gives me a sweet half-smile and very gently starts undoing the wrapping paper.

  “Collins, just tear the damn thing open,” I say with a laugh.

  Rogen chuckles next to me. “Nope. She saves the paper. Always has ever since we were kids. It’s kinda cute, to be honest.”

  As soon as she gets the paper off and turns the gift over, she starts squealing like a five-year-old. “Oh my god. Holy shit! You didn’t! Yes! Oh, you totally did!”

  Rogen pulls me into his side as Collins hugs the first edition of The Wizard of Oz we got her to her chest. During one of our nights laying in bed talking, Rogen told me about how when Collins was little and went through something rough, he’d read that book to her from an old copy their grandmother had given them.

  We’d argued about this gift for almost a week before buying it because first editions are expensive. I wanted to pay for the whole thing, but Rogen insisted on giving half even though he makes way less than me. I agreed and let him because I didn’t want to piss him off.

  Collins hands the book to Cannon to look at and the gleam in his eyes tells me she’s probably told him the importance of it, too. As soon as she stands, she comes over and pulls Rogen and I into a group hug. “Thank you both so, so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “You’re welcome, sis. You know we love you,” Rogen whispers as he kisses the side of her head.

  Collins stands up and takes my hand. “Good. Now let’s eat and dance. I’ve missed you both.”

  Letting her lead me toward the buffet-style spread Cannon had done, I smile to myself. Tonight is going to be an amazing evening, and when we get home, Rogen is going to make good on that rough sex promise.

  21

  Time seems to be flying by.

  For the last week since Collins’s birthday party, Rogen and I have fallen into a new routine. We bounce back and forth between bedrooms, but every morning we’re up with the sun. It’s either playtime or full-on quickies that get harder every day. I love it, though. Every morning, I get to explore the amazing man with my fingers, my mouth, whatever I want.

  We have breakfast together either in bed or at the island, and we take turns cooking. On weekends, we cook together before Rogen gets ready for work since he takes clients on the weekends and I don’t. Then I shower, go to work, and come home.

  I cook supper during the week since Rogen works later than me and he cooks on the weekends and his days off.

  Then sex and laying in bed, talking until one of us passes out first, which is usually me. The talking is what I’ve come to enjoy the most. I crave knowledge about this man. The more he tells me about himself and his past, the more I want to know.

  Theodora’s case has been stressful this week as well, and for the last two days Rogen has tried to get me to relax. Tomorrow is the start of a new work week and trial starts at eight o’clock in the morning. A judge approved our petition for information on Friday, but I still haven’t received the files. Rogen and I are heading to bed early, so he sent me to my room to get comfy while he finished cleaning up the dinner dishes and showered. Tonight, it’s my bed.

  Sitting with my back against the headboard, I lean over the side of the bed and grab my laptop. It’s only eight in the evening so maybe the file came through. My email loads and my heart races at the most recent one.

  “Rogen! The file came through!” I yell, which is followed by footsteps.

  He climbs into bed next to me and jumbles everything as he literally lifts me and my laptop, moving us down to the center of the bed. Then he slides in behind me, settling me between his legs, and pulls me back until I’m firmly against him. “Okay, baby. Now I’m ready for whatever you find out.” He kisses the back of my head before reaching over and grabbing the book he’s been reading off the nightstand.

  “It won’t bother you if I look over this now? I could just get up early?”

  “And make me miss out on having your body under me before work? No thanks, sweetheart.”

  I chuckle as I click to download the PDF file. Once it’s complete, I open it and start reading, and my heart breaks all over again.

  Defendant: Ronnie Conrad, age 16

  Officer statement: On the evening of 20 April 2018, sixteen-year-old Ronnie Conrad entered her vehicle while under the influence of alcohol. . .

  “Oh, no,” I whisper, covering my mouth.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “We’ve met her, Rogen. The defendant,” I reach back and grab at his arm, needing to feel it around me. “Ronnie, Theodora’s best friend that helped show us around the school that day with her parents and Rain. She’s the defendant.”

  I stare at my computer screen in shock. How the hell am I going to tell the Crowes that Theodora’s best friend is also the one that killed her? How do I prosecute a kid?

  “Parker, you will do what is right for Theodora. No matter what that ends up being, you will get through this and make the best decision you can as an attorney for the deceased.” He sets his book on the bed and closes my laptop before wrapping his other arm around me and kissing my shoulder.

  “I don’t know how to do this, Rogen. I’ve never prosecuted a kid. One kid is dead because of the careless and stupid actions of another. And I’m about to stand in a courtroom and ask a jury to take away the life of the other kid. No one wins in this situation, babe.”

  He sighs and holds me tighter, letting me find comfort in his embrace. As I relax into him, and just as my eyes shut, the pain and anxiety hits my chest. Am I depending on Rogen too much? Maybe I depended on Dalton too much and that’s why his death all but killed me? Is that what it will be like again if I lose Rogen to some accident or illness or Lord know what that could happen in life and take him from me? My body tenses and my heart starts to race.

  “Parker, stop it,” Rogen snaps as he grabs my hips. I squeeze my eyes shut as he moves, twisting and turning me until I’m facing him and straddling his lap. “Look at me, baby,” he says sternly, grabbing both sides of my face.

  When my eyes open, the tears fall down my cheeks and I bite my lip and sigh.

  Rogen stares at me with concern. “You’re not crying about the case, are you?”

  I shake my head and cover his hands with mine. “Do I depend on you too much?”

  “What?” He gently touches under my chin until I look at him, his brows pulled together in confusion.

  More tears fall down my face as I reach out and lightly drag my fingers through his beard. “I think Dalton’s death hit me so hard because I depended on him so much. And now, it’s like my day isn’t right without you, and I depend on you, too, and what happens if something happens to you? I don’t think I’d ever bounce back from that and I—”

  His lips slam into mine and his tongue coaxes my mouth open. As Rogen’s arms go around me, his hands tangle in my hair. Rogen’s kiss takes my breath and my anxiety away almost instantly.

  “There’s no such thing as depending on someone you care about too much, Parker,” Rogen whispers as he rests his forehead against mine. Gently, he reaches around and unhooks my bra, slowly sliding the straps down my arms before leaning in to kiss my collarbone. “And I am as much dependent on you as you are on me. This is far from one-sided, baby. You have no idea how much I need you every single day.”

  By the time Rogen’s mouth reaches my breasts, every worry has evaporated into thin air and all I want is to get lost in him for the rest of my existence.

  22

  Sitting outside the courtroom, my stomach is so upset that I’ve vomited twice this morning. Thankfully, both times were after sex with Rogen. Not so thankfully, he refused to leave when I got sick and insisted on holding my hair. It was endearing and mortifying at the same time.

  “Good morning, Parker,” a deep voice says, causing me to look up.

  Mr. Crowe is dressed in a crisp black suit while Mrs. Crowe is in a demure black dress, her eyes red and puffy.

  “Ple
ase, sit. I’d like to talk to you before we go in.” I gesture for them to sit on the bench next to me and I reach out to take Mrs. Crowe’s hand in mine. “Last night while at home, I received the file on the defendant that we’ve been fighting to get.”

  “Good. It will help you get justice for Theodora, right?” Mrs. Crowe says in a hopeful tone, squeezing my hands.

  “Mrs. Crowe, the driver that hit Theodora that night was Ronnie Conrad, her friend from school.”

  “No,” Mr. Crowe whispers. “We’ve known Ronnie since she was barely old enough to walk. She wouldn’t… I mean, she couldn’t.”

  I take a deep, sighing breath. “I wanted you to know before we go in and they bring her in.”

  The Crowes get up and head into the courtroom just as the bailiff calls for order, announcing the judge will be entering momentarily. As I stand and walk into the courtroom, I pull my phone out of my pocket, wishing I had more time to call Rogen.

  Instead, I settle on a text.

  Me: I’m sorry if you’re busy. I just. . . wish you were here right now.

  The next six hours of my life are the most emotionally grueling I’ve experienced since Dalton’s death. I spend my time in front of the court talking about how amazing Theodora was. How her life was cut short by Ronnie’s senseless and stupid actions that night. And the defense attorney spends his time telling the jury what a wonderful kid Ronnie is, how much she loved Theodora, and how she shouldn’t lose the rest of her life because of one tragic mistake.

  The judge calls the day to a close and I start packing up my briefcase. I really just want to go home, sit in the tub, and cry. Sadly, I have to go back to the office and start preparing for tomorrow. The worst part about trials like this is that they can last forever. Today was just the tip of the iceberg of emotions this is going to bring up.