As we cool off together, he strokes his hand through my hair. “You want to grab some stuff and come stay at my place tonight?” he asks.
“I can’t…” I hesitate, unsure of how to explain my morning plans. “I promised to help Celia with something and I have to go into school and work on an assignment after.”
A low growl of disappointment eases out of him.
I reach up and trace my fingers over his cheek. “I’ll see you at the gym in the afternoon.”
“I don’t know if I can go that long.” He’s teasing, but there’s a sweet catch in his voice—like maybe he really means it. “How were things with my mom after I took off?”
“We left right after you. She sent us home with leftovers and made us promise to return.”
He chuckles. “Sounds about right.”
It’s sappy, but I’m not ready for this moment with Aubrey to end. Since I can’t talk her into coming home with me, I’m content cuddling in the car with her instead.
“Madison wasn’t upset we came over for dinner, was she?” Aubrey asks after a few minutes.
“Not at all.” I kiss the top of her head again. “What made you ask that?”
“It was her last night here, I didn’t want to intrude.”
“My mother’s pretty persuasive when she wants to be.”
Her small body shakes against me. “I noticed. She sure keeps Jake in line too.”
Now I’m laughing. “Yeah, but he’ll do anything for her.”
“I have the feeling both of you will.”
I sigh, considering sharing some of my past with Aubrey. Something I don’t do with anyone, well, ever. “I don’t know if you noticed or not, but she’s blind in one eye. Happened when Jake and I were kids…”
And it’s my fault.
“…I worry about her,” I finally finish.
Aubrey’s confusion is clear from her cute wrinkled-nose face. My explanation made no sense.
“Ah, here I thought you just lived next door so she could help you with Madison.”
The comment doesn’t surprise me. It’s not far from the truth, either. “That’s part of it. It’s an odd story, actually. We moved there when I was thirteen and Jake was twelve. After a bad…well, some stuff happened.” I quicken my words, not wanting to share those painful details yet.
“The woman next door was a widow with no family, so my mother sent us over to help her out and stuff. They got to be good friends. When she passed away, she left the house to my mother.”
“Wow, that was nice.”
“A huge surprise too. By then I was fighting for visitation with Madison and I was having trouble showing the court I had a stable environment. I was living in the back of the gym because I’d sunk all the money I had into it.”
“Not a suitable place for your daughter.”
“Right. So Mom sold me the house for a dollar. She went down to Florida a bunch of times with me to hearings. I was only twenty-one, so it was a fine line between arguing that I had a support system in place to help me with Madison, but she wouldn’t be coming up here just to be dumped off at my mother’s.” I run my hand through my hair, just thinking about that time in my life still pisses me off. “The judge didn’t care for me too much.”
As if she can sense my irritation, Aubrey rubs her hand over my chest. Her soft touch actually soothes away the unpleasant memories.
“Your mom obviously loves Madison a lot.”
My lips quirk into a smile. “Yeah, she finally has the girl she always wanted. Jake and I didn’t look as good in frilly pink.”
She laughs and cups my cheek, rubbing her thumb over my bottom lip. “I bet you could pull it off.”
I hate that we’re always talking about me when there’s still so much I want to know about her. “So now that you’ve met everyone important to me, what about your family?”
She shifts away from me. “You’ve met Celia.”
“What about your parents?”
“They’re not dead or anything. We’re just not…close.” There’s sadness twisted up in her words and I squeeze her a little tighter. “I was a…difficult teenager and they’re not really the forgiving type.”
I can’t imagine what she would do that would be so unforgivable.
No matter how much I wanted to keep my distance from Aubrey in the beginning, I can’t help wanting to protect her, love her, and murder anyone who makes her unhappy.
Love.
Well, shit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I don’t think I can do this,” I say to Celia the next morning.
“Yes, you can.”
I’m not testifying. I can’t. But since I received the notice so late, I’m afraid my letter won’t arrive in time. Celia agreed to drive me to the parole hearing this morning and help me hand-deliver it.
“Got everything?” she asks.
She has to drop me off at school right after so she can get to work on time.
“Yup. All set.”
The time I spent with Sully last night pushes me through all my anxiety. That part of my life needs to be over and it’s time I stand up for myself.
Testify on his behalf. What a joke.
“You want to stop by and visit Mom, on the way back?” she asks as we pass the Thruway exit leading to the town we grew up in.
“That’s a great big nope.” I flip my middle finger in the direction of our childhood home and she laughs.
“I’m proud of you,” she says a little later.
“Why? I’m being a total coward.” I flap the letter I’m holding in the air a few times. “A fucking letter. Seriously?”
“They gave it as an option, Aubrey,” she says with exaggerated patience. “Obviously, it’s common.”
She glances over. “You tell Sully where you were going this morning? Does he even know?”
“Hell fucking no. Are you kidding?”
“Aubrey,” she sighs.
“Not yet.” I can’t bear to reveal my shameful past to him. For just a little longer I want to live in the happy space we’ve created.
“He sort of screams wholesome, doesn’t he?” She wrinkles her nose. “Makes you wonder what happened to Jake.”
“He’s not that wholesome,” I mutter.
She gives me a sly smile. “You did return to the apartment looking rather disheveled last night.”
Heat tickles my cheeks. “We got caught in the rain.”
“How romantic,” she sighs.
“Stop making fun of me.”
“Oh, I’m not. I’m jealous.” She presses her hand against her chest. “The way he can’t take his eyes off you, I imagine he’s very attentive in the bedroom.”
“Stop imagining my boyfriend in the bedroom at all,” I grumble.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes. He’s…talented at all the things.”
“So he knows where everything is?” She snickers at her little joke.
I actually shiver thinking about last night. “Oh, yes. He knows where everything is and what to do when he gets there.”
“God, I hate you right now.”
When we arrive at the hearing, I lose my nerve. Celia ends up going inside to deliver the letter for me. I feel like a coward, so I use the time to check up on Strike Back’s Instagram account. I answer a few comments and check to make sure Monday’s post will go live as scheduled.
I pull out my notebook and jot down a few ideas that come to me while I’m scrolling through other similar accounts. I’d like to set up some sort of live chat, but I think Jake will be more agreeable to that than Sully will.
I’ve walked a fine line with the tone of the posts. Clearly, I want to showcase the guys’ abilities and keep things fitness-oriented. But let’s be honest, I’m also using them as man-bait to attract an audience. Part of why I was so hesitant to talk about it with Madison and Sully’s mom last night. I’d probably traumatize poor Maddy if she knew my plan involves turning her dad and uncle into Inte
rnet sex symbols for profit.
Jake’s friends, Griff and Remy, are supposed to start training at Strike Back. Would it be weird if I tried to talk them into contributing a video? I tap my pen against my notebook. What’s a non-sleazy way to approach someone and ask to take some video of them while they work out? Oh, and if you can please do it shirtless, that would be great, thanks.
Maybe I should start by asking Jake and Remy to spar in front of the camera. It would definitely appeal to their vanity.
Celia’s door opening startles me out of my planning session and I flip my notebook closed.
“I’m glad you didn’t go in.” She starts the car and backs out of our spot.
“Why? Did you see him?”
“Not really.”
I don’t ask for more details, because I honestly don’t care. Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to move on and forget that embarrassingly stupid time in my life?
“But they took my letter?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Thank you so much for helping me do this.” My voice breaks and I almost start bawling.
“Hey.” She reaches over and pats my leg. “It’s okay. I’m so proud of you.”
“Why? I’m practically flunking out of community college, working two part-time jobs—”
“Aubrey, stop,” she snaps, cutting me off. “Drop accounting, please. I think you’re onto something with the social media thing. It combines a lot of skills you’re already good at. You’ve always been creative and artistic.”
“I’m not artistic.”
“With words, I mean. You used to write the most beautiful poems and stories.”
“You know why I can’t anymore.”
“Don’t let him take that away from you too. Stop running away and trying to force yourself into doing something you hate.”
“It’s a lot of money I wasted then.” Just thinking of all the hours on my feet at Busy Beans to pay my last tuition bill makes me queasy.
“Better to let go now than to keep sinking money into something you’re never going to love doing.”
“I’ll only be taking one class this semester if I drop accounting.”
“Then take the one class and knock it out of the park.”
“You really think I can make a career out of that?”
She shrugs. “Who knows? Things change so fast anymore. But marketing, presenting products and ideas, the psychology behind it, that doesn’t change. You’re smart and intuitive. Focus there.”
Her pep talk sparks something inside me.
I flip my notebook open and jot down a ‘to do’ list.
It’s been so long, I almost forgot what hope feels like.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I’m waiting by the security gate for Maddy’s flight to land when my phone lights up.
Disappointment settles in that it’s not Aubrey.
“Hey, Lauren. I’m waiting at the airport.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad I caught you before she gets there.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
She sighs. I’m about to ask why she bothered calling if she doesn’t want to spit it out.
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just been an exhausting week. She’s moody, emotional, temperamental. I thought I should warn you.”
I can’t tell if she’s exaggerating. “Thanks for the head’s up.”
“Hey, you wanted an extra weekend with her.”
“That hasn’t changed.”
“Give it time.” She laughs, a grating sound under the circumstances. “Or maybe not. I’m sure she’ll be on her best behavior for you.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“You can try.”
“Lauren.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing.” She pauses and chuckles. “Still planning to introduce her to your girlfriend this weekend?”
“Yeah,” I answer carefully. She didn’t have a problem with it when I brought it up the other night. I hope she’s not going to give me grief now.
“Okay. Well, good luck.”
There’s not much more to say. We hang up and I pace while I wait for Maddy’s plane to land.
Forty-five minutes later, she shouts, “Daddy!” and comes running through the security gate, hurling herself against me.
“How was your flight?”
“Good.”
“Did you check any luggage?”
“Nope. I didn’t want to waste a second.” She reaches over and pats her small rolling suitcase. “Everything is in here. Or here.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder at her backpack.
I have the urge to remind her about the suitcase full of stuffed animals she used to bring with her, but I don’t.
“Where’s Uncle Jake?” she asks, shrugging off her backpack.
“He’s at the gym.” I take the pack and set it on top of her suitcase before leading her outside. Madison stopped holding my hand in public sometime last year.
“Can we stop there first?”
I hesitate before answering. It’s not unusual for us to stop there.
“Is Aubrey still working there?” she asks once we’re in the Jeep.
“Uh, yeah. I kind of wanted to talk to you about that.” Shit, why does explaining my relationship to my daughter feel so damn awkward?
Probably because I’ve never done it before. Never planned to do it either.
She casts a sideways glance my way. “Did you ask her out?”
“Sort of. Yeah.” I cough. “We’ve gone out a few times. So, I was thinking, how do you feel about her coming with us to the Big E tomorrow?”
She sits forward to play with the radio. “Sure. Will she go on any of the rides with me?”
“I thought you were too old for little kid rides?”
A blush creeps over her cheeks and she shrugs.
“So, your mom says you’ve been spirited lately.”
She cocks her head and rolls her eyes. “Spirited?” She adopts a tone of voice very similar to her mother’s “Are you sure she didn’t say ‘moody, emotional, and temperamental?’”
“Anyway,” I say, ignoring her last comment because damn does she have Lauren pegged. “You need to treat your mother with respect.”
“Daaaad,” she whines.
“Don’t Daaaad me.”
“But, she sends me chores by text.” She flips through her phone and then shoves it in my face. “That’s so not what texting is for.”
Brushing the phone aside, I pin her with a stern look. “Maybe you’re nicer via text and she’s tired of the back talk.”
She spreads her hands wide in front of her to emphasize the full extent of the injustice. “She makes me do chores around the house Ella never has to do.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re older and your mom thinks you’re more capable than your little sister. Ever think about that?”
“No.” She crosses her arms over her chest and stares out the window.
“Are chores your biggest complaint?” I ask.
“Give me a minute to think on it.”
I smother a laugh as I pull out of the parking lot. “Chores are good for you. Builds character.”
“Ugh.”
“When we were your age, if Grandma ran out of chores for Jake and me to do, she used to—”
“Send you next door to Mrs. Shepherd’s house to work,” she cuts me off with a bored tone. “I’ve heard this a million times.”
“Mowing the lawn, shoveling snow, carrying groceries—”
“Interest level exceeded over here, Dad.”
“You get my point.”
“Yes. Point gotten.”
“What point was that?”
She huffs. “Be nice to Mom and chores are good for me.”
“You got it. Lecture over.”
“Can you do another set, Griff?” I move to a spot where I can film but not be in the way of the shot. “Are you getting tired?”
He jumps and grabs t
he bar over his head. “I can go all day long, Aubrey.” He flashes a cocky wink while continuing to run through sets of controlled leg raises. “All night too,” he adds, not even breathing hard.
“Show off,” Jake mumbles.
“Need me to demonstrate how it’s done, old man?” Griff snarks back.
“You looking for an ass kickin’?”
“Bring it.” He raises up and playfully kicks out at Jake.
These goofy, candid videos might be more interesting than what I originally planned, so I keep filming them as they banter back and forth.
Jake had been the one to ask Griff for me if he’d mind helping with some promotion for the gym. At least I didn’t have to be the sleaze asking, “Hey, you’re hot. Wanna whip off your shirt and let me get a few short video clips of you to post online?”
“Let’s spar,” Jake suggests.
In the last two weeks, Jake talked his brother into branching out and installing a practice ring for guys like Griff and Remy to come work on their training. I wasn’t clear on the details of why Sully was against it at first, but he’s definitely seen an increase in business as a result.
Paying customers. Not that I’m nosy—it is after all part of my job to keep track of his schedule—but Sully does a lot of pro-bono classes and low-cost training. Not just the couple of classes he teaches here. He also takes part in special programs at women’s shelters, college campuses, and police departments in the area. Pretty much any non-profit who asks, he’ll say yes to. Which is sweet, believe me, I almost melted into a puddle of goo when I realized how much time he spends on charitable endeavors. But it doesn’t bring a lot of revenue into the gym itself. Sully has a stellar reputation in the community because of his work. Now I want to help him leverage that into making Strike Back more profitable.
“Are you nervous?” Jake asks.
“A little.”
“Don’t be.” He lowers his voice. “My brother likes you. A lot, Aubrey. I haven’t seen him act this way about a woman, well, ever.”
Can I break my face from smiling too much? Because Jake’s words have me ready to explode with happiness. “I like him too,” I whisper.
“He’s never introduced Maddy to a girlfriend before,” Jake continues.
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