CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Caleb
“Please, Cherry,” Colby begged, trying to convince her not to tell their mother about the goldfish incident.
“Ha! Do you think she doesn’t already know? Your school does have her cell phone number.”
“What time’s she get off work?”
“She’s probably off and back home by now.”
Colby groaned. “Can’t we just call her and explain?”
Cherry snorted. “We’re almost there now. It’s not like calling her a few minutes ahead of time will make her tone down her mama-ness.”
I looked over at Colby with mock concern. “You make it sound like she’s going to fillet you.”
“Worse,” Colby groaned. “She’s gonna click her tongue, maybe get teary-eyed, whisper about a dozen prayers to God and then beg me to change my ways.”
“Wow, that sounds like some real torture.”
“It is. I hate thinking that I stress her out, or that she’s wasting what precious little free time she gets on praying for me.” Colby said it like he was eleven going on thirty, and I knew there was no hope of him giving up his misguided ways.
I would need to go in the house with them, explain why I’d kept her son and daughter after picking them up at the school. My heart did a lurch in my chest. I could execute business deals with a steady outward appearance, no matter what was going on. So why did the thought of meeting Cherry’s mother make my hands shake? The baser part of me wanted to use my money and clout to impress her, but I knew that was exactly the kind of behavior that made Cherry distrust people like me.
Nervous energy swirling under my skin, I pulled up in front of the two-story I’d dropped her at all those weeks ago. Just looking at the faded blue of the front door made my stomach burn.
How would I approach this? I wasn’t Cherry’s boss. I certainly wasn’t her boyfriend, though we had slept together. I rubbed my forehead. Was I sweating?
We had been interconnected in one of the most intimate ways you could be with someone, more than once, and yet I had no idea what to call us.
I shot a look at Cherry and found her watching me. Her gaze was steady, and after Colby reluctantly stepped from the car, she gently pressed my cheek into her palm. Something inexplicable flipped over in my chest, and an inner spark lit as I followed her to the door and inside.
“Mommy, it’s prince charming!” was announced by a high, tiny voice, which came from a yellow-haired girl bouncing perfectly on a pogo stick in the hall.
“Honey, how many times have I told you, not in the house,” an older woman with dark hair and eyes exclaimed as she bustled out of the kitchen. She stopped when she saw me, drying her hands on the dish towel she was carrying.
“He came riding in at the last minute to save the damsel in distress!” the little girl squealed. “That’s me.” She clapped her hand over her chest and brought one foot to the floor in a movement that told me she was a pogo stick master.
I met Cherry’s mother’s eyes, and with the warm imprint of Cherry’s hand still on my face, I did a half bow that sent the girl into a fit of giggles.
Cherry introduced us, after which Cherry’s mother pulled Colby into the kitchen for a scolding, and Honey announced that she must change into her best dress since the prince had arrived.
“Well, I hope we haven’t kept you from your evening.” Cherry set her shattered phone on the dresser that stood at the foot of the stairs.
“You weren’t kidding. Your phone is busted. Did you have my number memorized then?”
“Not quite,” she admitted, her cheeks going a cute shade of pink.
“Then how did you—” I put two and two together. “The business card I gave you when we first met. You kept it.” My heart took off beating at a rate that was uncalled for considering I was standing still.
“Is that so unusual?”
I leaned forward, her eyes meeting mine and heating. “I think it is.”
She looked back at her phone, breaking the moment. “Thank you for coming for us. I mean it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
Her eyes softened, and even with the bruising still evident around them, they were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. “No, I was pretty sure you would, that’s why I called. But you didn’t seem inconvenienced or anything like that. And it was like you coming here even was just a matter-of-fact. That means a lot to me.”
I reached out gently and took her hand after glancing toward the kitchen. “I’m not going to pretend to know how either of us are feeling, but if you believe for a second that I would let you call your mother so she could ride a bus there, just to take you and Colby home on said bus, you are utterly mistaken. Not even a stranger deserves that, and we are certainly not strangers.”
“No, I guess we’re not.” She let out a tiny sigh and squeezed my hand.
We fit into each other’s lives like puzzle pieces that were never meant to meet, but fit anyway, and we were both still figuring out how to place each other. Maybe if our walls weren’t so high, the task might be a little easier. But we were what we were, and I didn’t see that changing anytime soon.
“You’ve had a long day, why don’t you take a break, relax and just close your eyes for a minute?” I said softly but firmly. “I’m sure you could use it.”
“Maybe,” she sighed, rubbing her temples, making me want to kiss her there. “There’s just a lot of thoughts going through my head. It makes it hard to settle down.”
“Well, whatever you’re worrying about, don’t.
She melted into the couch, and I could see the intense wave of relief wash over her. It pissed me off so much that I was almost winded. Every time something happened, she immediately thought I was going to fire her.
Raking my hand through my hair, I searched for patience and sat beside her, wanting to pull her into my arms but knowing I couldn’t. “Cherry, you have to start trusting me. We’re partners of a sort, and it’s not going to get us places if you’re constantly afraid of my firing you.”
Her eyes grew wide, and her sultry lips dropped open before shutting again, an accepting look coming onto her face. “Alright then. I’ll try to, but no promises.”
“Good. I suppose that’s all I can ask then.” I looked around, expecting to see evidence of a man, but there was only teenage boy stuff lying around. “Where’s your dad?”
She stiffened. “I need to help Mom get dinner on.”
“I take it that’s a sticky subject.” I didn’t want to push, but I’d made up my mind that I was going to help this family and I needed to know what I was in for with the head of the household.
“Yeah, why?”
“Your shoulders are stiff, and you’ve got this look on your face like you’re trying not to think about something.”
She noticeably relaxed her shoulders. “I meant, why do you want to know?”
“You’re avoiding the question.” I sighed. “Cherry, sometimes people just want to know things about each other.”
Her gaze sharpened then dropped to her lap, where she fiddled with her fingers for a moment before swallowing hard and looking back up.
“I owe you an explanation, after everything you’ve done for me today. You left your business and rushed to get us, took Colby under your wing. Not to mention your obvious dedication to my continued employment, and you didn’t even seem concerned with taking the rest of the day showing Colby how to box, ignoring the fact that my brother’s shenanigans had cost most of a day of training.”
“Your father died?”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Because of how long it was taking you to say it.”
She battled the tears back, swallowing them down as she looked out the window, stalling. I could tell no one usually saw through the façade she’d raised, not very often anyway. It shook a person when someone finally did. I knew because it did the same to me when Cherry saw things in me I was doing my best to hide.
“It was throat cancer. One month he was fine, then he was gone before Christmas. It was so fast, and even with all us kids we couldn’t manage what he had alone on the farm and basically went bankrupt. We lost my dad, our house, and then Mom made the decision to let even the two cars go and keep the farm truck. Mom used the last of the money to rent this house, and we’ve been trying to make it work city style ever since.”
“I’m so sorry. I know what it’s like to lose a parent.” I reached out, covered her hands with my own. “But I can’t imagine losing my home at the same time. No wonder you’re so strong. You’ve had to be. Were there no extended family members who could help?”
Her face grew tight, and I realized I’d stumbled onto another sore subject. She let out a long breath. “My father’s family doesn’t really associate with even each other, and mom’s family couldn’t do much to help. They did what they could, but when I got a college scholarship that didn’t include the dorm, Mom decided we could do better in Louisville.”
“I see,” I said, my mind racing. I felt like I’d just gathered a wealth of information. It explained her wall, the way she was so determined to succeed. As the oldest, the responsibility would fall heavily on her shoulders. “I just assumed your dad had something to do with your entering the fight world.”
“He took me to a few fights, mostly incognito.” She smiled, her gaze a light year away. “Mom would have killed him if she’d known. It was after we moved that I started fighting. It helped me burn the tension.”
She’d lost her father, the cornerstone of their family.
I knew how it felt to have someone so important to you pass away. “My mother died when I was eight, and my grandparents on each side of the family tried to step in. It was a shitshow.”
The concern in her eyes stayed even as one side of her lips turned up in a tiny smile.
A whole new respect for her welled up within me, along with something else. I wanted to make sure she was cared for. Give her everything, anything she and her family might need. The worst thing that had happened in my life had been my own doing, and I had recovered in comfort and with the best care that money could buy.
She’d suffered because of a cruel fate. Now, more than ever, I wanted good things for her. I wanted her not to suffer anymore. I just wanted her to not have to worry about what was coming next.
She looked up at me through her lashes. “I didn’t weird you out with that whole backstory thing, did I?”
I frowned, wishing I could pull her to my chest. “What? No. Like you, I have my own armor. It’s hard for even me to chip through it at this point.”
“I know what you mean,” she said with a slight chuckle, a sound I didn’t hear from her often.
“I think we’re a fair bit alike. Sometimes people call me cold, but I just like to say that I’m practical.” She nodded, agreeing with my statement.
Perhaps this similarity was what drew us to each other so strongly.
It was a relief to know that her aloofness wasn’t because she didn’t like me. However, with that relief, my mind was able to push aside all the worries I had been housing, and I was faced with only a single question.
Why she meant so much to me.
Just then, Cherry’s mother stepped out of the kitchen and found us on the couch. “You’re staying for dinner.”
Cherry looked flustered and it almost made me forget the sadness that had entered the room.
I shook my head and made to stand. “Oh no, that’s alright. I just wanted to make sure everyone was settled, so I’ll just head out.”
She waggled a finger at me. “No, no, no. You come to my house, you help my family, I fill your belly. You’ll stay for dinner.”
I wanted to argue but not be rude, and my eyes automatically flicked to Cherry questioningly. She only shrugged, as if when her mother put her mind to something, it always went her way.
Still, though I’d established a certain amount of intimacy with Cherry, I wasn’t sure I was ready for a family meal, so I stood. “I really should get back to wo—”
“You’ll stay for dinner,” Cherry’s mama repeated, her dark eyes boring into mine.
Then it was like someone had taken possession of my mouth. “Yes, ma’am. But only if you allow me to give you the night off from cooking.”