When I close Mitch’s door, I have the overwhelming urge to press my ear to the wood to listen in. I don’t. If I need to know what’s said, Mitch will tell me. We’re a team before we’re agents. The DCA brought us together, but it doesn’t define our relationship. He’s my brother, and family comes first.
I make my way to the kitchen where I can hear banging around and happy tittering. When I spot them, I stop to just watch my girls.
Riley’s sitting on the counter next to a large bowl, smashing eggs into it. Yes, smashing. Cara doesn’t get frustrated with her, she just keeps showing her how to do it and waits with patience as Riley crushes another egg.
My woman is calm, serene. Her auburn hair is up in a messy bun, face fresh and glowing brighter than any make-up could create. She’s wearing a deep green sweater that’s forever slipping off her shoulder, exposing her milky skin for my perusal. And the damn leggings. They leave nothing to the imagination. She’s in what many would consider lounge clothes. Cara looks like heaven to me.
As another egg splats everywhere, I move into the kitchen. I sweep my arms around Cara’s waist and drop my mouth to her naked shoulder, kissing it tenderly.
“What’re we makin’?” I ask.
“Cookies!” Riley exclaims, flinging egg everywhere as she claps.
I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. She’s a mess and the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. My daughter.
“Let’s try another egg,” Cara suggests.
Carefully, she cracks the egg and peels it apart, explaining what she’s doing the whole time as Riley watches. I have my chin resting on her shoulder, inhaling her fresh scent.
“Can you help me?” Riley asks Cara.
She’s wanted to do it herself the whole time I’ve been watching. Riley doesn’t seem defeated, just ready to move on with the baking.
Cara lays her long fingers over Riley’s, cracking the egg gently. Then they each pull and the egg drops into a clean bowl.
“Two more,” Cara says and they go about doing it the same way.
“I’m good at cooking,” Riley announces as the last egg falls into the bowl.
“Yes, you are,” Cara agrees.
“The best,” I pipe in.
Riley and Cara go about mixing and plopping balls on a cookie sheet while I watch and soak in the normalcy of the moment. A family baking cookies together for the holidays. This is the life my girls deserve. I just don’t know if I do.
“How about I clean you up and then you can help some more?” I ask as Cara slides the cookies into the oven.
Riley nods and tries to jump into my arms. I grab her before she can cover me in egg and shell, holding her under her armpits at an arm’s length as though she’s contaminated.
Riley giggles and squirms as I stride to the bathroom, depositing her in the tub.
I go about scrubbing Riley as she sloshes around, getting me just as wet as she is. I don’t care. She’s happy and that’s all that matters right now.
“Is Cara my new mommy?” Riley asks after I wipe a massive glob of bubbles from her face.
I clear my throat and choose my words carefully before answering, “Cara and I have a lot of things to work out.”
“Like boxing?”
I smile at her and she beams back at me.
“No, not that kind of workout. Before you were born, Cara and I knew each other. Then I left to work at my job. That made Cara very sad. When grownups are sad, it takes time to get better.”
“You kiss her and hug her. She doesn’t look sad when you do that. She looks happy.”
Fuck, I hope so. I’m not going to say that to Riley though.
“As soon as I know what Cara and I are going to do, you’ll be the first to know,” I assure her before tipping her head back to rinse her hair.
I have no fucking clue how to do this. I refuse to lie to Riley. I have to be honest with her. She’s never asked how she was born. She believes I’m her father. Her biological father. I’m afraid to tell her the truth. Fuck, I don’t want it to be the truth. She’s my daughter no matter where she came from. But the questions are coming. The older she gets, the smarter she becomes, the more family she meets…I’ll have to tell her the truth someday soon. I just wish I knew what the truth was.
“How about I take over?” Mitch asks hoarsely from the doorway.
I lock eyes with him and find my spotter trying to ease away the tension. I wish I knew why this makes him so nervous. Mitch would never hurt Riley. I trust him with her without reservation. If he’s ready to take this step, I’m willing to give it to him.
“Careful, she’s half dolphin,” I warn, climbing to my feet.
Mitch lets out a ragged breath, slaps my back and kneels next to the tub. Riley spins around and douses him with a gallon of water. They both burst into belly laughs and all the tension leaves my best friend’s body.
I walk across the hall to my room and peel out of my soaked clothes, leaving only my boxer briefs.
Cara clears her throat behind me and I spin to face her. Her cheeks are flushed as her gaze traces my naked torso, pausing on my scars and then moving away. I swear I can feel her touch moving across my skin. My dick is certainly aware of her perusal.
“Cara,” I rasp, need evident in every syllable.
Her green eyes snap to mine and my confident woman looks equal parts turned on and nervous.
“The cookies are done,” she croaks, flicking her gaze to the floor.
“Eyes up here, sweetheart.”
“I can’t,” she whispers.
“You can’t what?” I ask tenderly, closing the distance between us.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. One minute I want everything with you and the next I’m in a panic, convinced you’re gonna leave me again. I don’t know what to do,” she murmurs.
I tip her chin up and force her to look at me.
“Our past won’t go away. It will always be here between us. It can be the thing that tears us apart or the glue that holds us together. I’m not leaving you. I still have demons and running away didn’t fix that shit. I need my family in my life. I need you in my life. I see that now. I can’t promise what the future holds, sweetheart. But I swear to you, I’m not ever walking out on you again,” I finish strongly.
“I’m a virgin,” she blurts out as her eyes go wide with shock at her declaration.
“Okay,” I respond, waiting for some unknown issue to sprout up.
“They were training me to be a sex slave, Jake. Two years of torture, preparing me to be some sick fuck’s play toy. I’m scared of sex. I don’t know anything other than what I had with Colton and that wasn’t much. He never pushed the issue. What if I can’t do it with you? Are you gonna leave me if I can’t give you that?” Cara asks in a shuddered breath.
I cup her cheeks, stroking her smooth skin with my fingers.
“I’m not worried about sex, Cara. I know what you went through in Connecticut. I’m in no rush to push you into anything that makes you uncomfortable. But sweetheart, you asked me to take you to bed a few days ago. You look at me with heat and desire when we’re together. Are you pushing yourself for me?”
I hate the idea that she’s been trying to offer herself to me because she believes I need it. I need her more than I need sex. I know that seems insane, but it’s true. Sex is one tiny piece of the puzzle with Cara. I want her at my side more than I want her in my bed.
I’m still a man. Of course I want to have sex with her. I want to feel her skin sweaty against mine. I want to look into her eyes as she falls apart beneath me. I want to touch every inch of her with my tongue and memorize the taste. I want her.
But I won’t hurt her.
“I’m not pushing myself. In those moments, I want you. I really want you,” she says through a smirk. “It’s when I’m alone with my thoughts that I start to freak out.”
“We’ll take it slow,” I assure her, pressing my lips to her forehead.
&nb
sp; She nods and releases a tension-filled breath before resting her head on my shoulder as her fingers gently rub my back. I hold her close and allow her this moment without my own exploration.
“I don’t want you to hold back with me,” she mutters into my neck. “I just wanted to be honest with you.”
“Okay,” I agree.
Mitch stomps out of the bathroom with my burrito-wrapped daughter in his arms, a massive smile on his face.
“That was fun,” he announces.
“I can hold my breath for thirty seconds,” Riley exclaims as Cara turns to face them while we all chuckle at my daughter.
“I’ll get you dressed and then we can make some more cookies,” Cara says, pulling away from my arms.
I tug her back and kiss her neck before letting her scoop Riley away from Mitch.
“You good with bath time now?” I ask Mitch as I step into some black sweats, leaving them low on my hips.
“I don’t know what my fuckin’ issue was. I’m good,” he responds with a grin. “You done bein’ a dick?”
“I’m stressed, man,” I huff, tugging a white T-shirt over my head. “When it was us and Gage, I didn’t worry. Three agents and a little girl…the odds were always in our favor. We’ve got no idea what might be comin’ at us and I feel like our asses are swingin’ in the wind.”
“Roman’s worried your head’s fucked with all of this,” Mitch explains the secret conversation while rubbing his messy wet hair.
“My head’s fucked. That doesn’t mean I’m not capable of my job,” I growl.
“That’s what I told him.”
“Good.”
“Once the DCA has Cash, we’ll have our answers. Try to just relax until then. Get laid. It’ll do you some good.”
I’m not telling Mitch what Cara just confided in me. So I just snort and move past him into the living room.
Cara’s in pain because she believes her past is still holding her prisoner. I have to find a way to show her that her past is what makes her the amazing woman she is today. I know her trust issues with me are a big part of the problem. Trust isn’t built in a day, but it can be destroyed in a second. I spent six years proving I’m not trustworthy. I’ll have to put in the work and the time. Cara’s worth the wait.
She’s worth everything.
I forced myself to calm down and relax for the rest of the day. I can be an agent and a human. I’ve done it with Riley for four years. I’m more than capable. I just need Cash in DCA custody and some answers before I’ll let my guard completely down.
With Riley tucked away in her bed and Mitch in his room, Cara and I are stretched out on the couch, foot to foot sipping hot chocolate. The fire is starting to glow as the blaze fades into orange embers. The odd tree is still leaning and making a small grin crest my lips as I glance at it.
“What?” Cara asks with her own grin.
“That tree is so…” I trail off not sure what to call it.
“Hey.” She kicks me lightly, offended at what she perceives as me teasing.
“Did I mention I love the tree?”
I pull her toward me by her ankle as her throaty laugh fills the small room while I settle her on my lap.
“I love that tree too,” she says wistfully, glancing over her shoulder at it. “It’s perfect.”
I look at it along with her and analyze it from top to bottom. It’s leaning but not broken. It’s decorated with love and care but not gaudy. Its lights illuminate it from every angle but don’t distract from anything or bring too much attention to it.
The tree is the personification of the perfection I see in Cara.
“Hey,” I whisper, pulling her chin so her face is near mine.
Her big green eyes lock on mine as I explain, “I know your life has hurt. I know the pain you’ve been assaulted with. I know the agony of trying to rebuild when you’re not sure what structure you’re trying to form. I know you, Cara. I knew you the first time I looked into your eyes. Call it love at first sight. Call it a merging of souls. I don’t give a fuck what it’s called. I know that in that moment, my life changed for the better.
“You’re not a victim or a survivor. To me, both of those terms insinuate you’re defined by your struggle. Cara Kelly, you’re defined by your power to live. You’re a testament to strength. You’re everything I’ve spent a lifetime afraid to be. I don’t see someone broken or tainted when I look at you, sweetheart. I see perfection. I see mended cracks that are held together with tenacity and guts. I see everything you are in spite of what people tried to make you. You’re your own woman, created like that tree.
“Big globs of love. Heavily decorated with beauty. Never conforming to what you’re expected to be. Illuminated by life, shining brightly from within. You. Are. Perfect.”
I swipe two big tears as they spill down her cheeks, never moving my gaze away from hers.
“Jake,” she sobs, diving her face into my neck as emotion wracks her thin frame.
I hold her, my arms shaking with my own unspent tears. Just like the story I told Riley, I can feel the strong thrum of Cara’s heart against my own. Beating a steady, fierce rhythm as she cries.
I make no move to change our position as Cara releases what feels like a lifetime of tears against my skin. I simply wrap her in my safe embrace and silently promise that she’ll never be alone again.
As her breathing evens out and the intensity of her grip on my shoulders relaxes, Cara’s lips press against my tear-moistened skin. That one soft touch sears its way straight to my chest. And as her feather-light kisses move up my neck, across my stubbled jaw and to my cheek, my entire body flames.
Cara brushes her mouth against mine before leaning her forehead on my brow, avoiding my eyes as her breath stutters.
“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” I say quietly, tipping her chin up.
Her lashes flutter open and her red-rimmed puffy eyes meet mine. I don’t see sadness in her gaze. I don’t see pain. I don’t see the demons of her past creeping toward the surface. I see love beaming at me, untainted and untouched.
“You love me,” she rasps.
“I’ve loved you for six years, one month, four days and a few hours,” I state proudly.
“I love you too,” she whispers, a small smile playing at her lips.
“I hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it. I’m sorry down to the depths of my soul for causing you any pain. I didn’t want to hurt you. But I knew I couldn’t love you the way you deserved back then.”
“And you can now?”
“Absolutely,” I breathe out.
“Will you tell me about your past? You know everything about me. Every shitty thing I went through. I only know your pain because I see it reflected back at me. I want to know you, Jake. All of you,” Cara says tenderly.
This is the moment where I decide if I’m more than the pieces that make me. She needs the details of my life before she decides if I can be a part of her life. Cara would give me most of her without knowing. But if I want the totality of the woman before me, I have to give her all of myself.
I’m terrified that once she sees me for what I really am, she’ll run in the opposite direction of me. I wouldn’t blame her if she did, but it would gut me.
She deserves the choice.
I settle myself against the couch and pull her close before I start to speak.
“I was raised in a cabin pretty similar to this one, not far from here in Arkansas. My biological father lived in the middle of the woods and only ventured out when necessary. Bull Rivers wasn’t afraid of the world, he saw it as his enemy. Everything was that fucker’s enemy.
“The beatings started before I can remember. It was just a part of my life. I didn’t know it should be any different. As I got older, I did my best to avoid his brutality, but I could only do so much. I made the mistake of asking about my biological mother when I was six. He beat me with a wrench for that mistake
. I spent two weeks in bed after that one.”
Cara’s gone rigid as I’ve spoken, but she’s not looking up at me or moving away. She’s just holding my hand and resting against my chest.
“Bull had projects as he liked to call them. Every once in a while people would be at our cabin. I was told to make myself scarce during those times and I did. After a few days the people would be gone and we’d be alone again. I never questioned him about it.
“He was good with a gun. I think he had plans to be in the military as a younger man, but I’m not positive about that. I was no more than a toddler the first time he put a gun in my hands. He didn’t teach me gun safety or how to handle the weapon. He taught me that if I didn’t do exactly as he said, I would be bloodied. And I spent a lot of time bloody back then.”
Cara sits up and pulls away from my embrace. She tugs on my knees so that I swivel to face her on the couch. She wants my eyes for this. I have the urge to put her back where she was so I don’t have to watch the devastation of my truth vibrating through her gaze, but I don’t. I look her in the eyes like a man.
“By the time I was nine, I was talented. Bull loved it as much as he hated it. Sometimes he beat me just because I hit a target more accurately than he did. Other times he forced me to shoot until I couldn’t feel my fingers. It was always a game to him. Then one night he came for me. He dragged me outta bed and forced me up into a deer blind. I was so confused. I remember having a moment where I believed he just wanted me to hunt with him that day. I was so fuckin’ wrong.
“He said when you see a guy walkin’ across the field, shoot him. You’ve got one bullet. He didn’t need to threaten me by that point. I knew if I missed the shot I’d be his next target and I wouldn’t get a beating. One of Bull’s projects had been at the cabin for two days. That’s the man who walked out onto the field. Bull pressed his muzzle to my temple and I took the shot. I killed that man. I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t really feel it either.”
“Fuck,” Cara hisses, but I keep going.
“That was my life from that point on. I’d be ripped outta bed, shoved in a deer blind or somewhere else and I’d kill someone or multiple people. I killed men and women, young and old, sick and healthy. No one was safe. I didn’t know where they came from or who they were. But on the nights where there was more than one person for me to kill, I could see the fear as the first body dropped. They would panic and run while Bull would double over with laughter.”
Escaping the Blackness (A Cooper Brothers Novel Book 1) Page 24
