When I did get home, I’d stood outside the house for several minutes, drying my eyes and cleaning myself off as much as possible. I was thankful at least we hadn’t had any gravy at lunch that day. I walked in the house and saw Deck sitting on the couch playing a shooting video game with Connor, and I nearly ran back out. I didn’t want him to see my blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes.
“I knew you’d been crying the second you walked in the door. I also knew you were trying to hide it.” Deck threw the vegetables in the frying pan and they sizzled and hissed under the heat.
I didn’t want to talk about this.
“Connor saw it, too.” Yeah, but it had been Deck who’d nudged him in the shoulder and drew his attention away from the video game so he’d look at me. It took two seconds for Connor to reach me. He gave me a hug and quietly asked me what was wrong. I told him I tripped and fell with my lunch tray.
I knew he didn’t believe me, but he saw my pleading eyes and let it go. My brother was good at reading me and he knew if he pushed, I’d be a crying mess and I hated that.
Deck didn’t. No, he got up off the couch and stalked toward me as if he was the lion assessing his prey. When he stopped in front of me, he looked down at my dress, picked the French fry from my hair and met my eyes.
I think I fell in love with him right then. Actually, I knew I did. It was the way the warmth of his eyes penetrated me; it was as if he were wrapping me in his protective shield and nothing could get to me.
“You got me a bowl of strawberry ice cream.”
He nodded. “And you sat cross-legged on the chair at the kitchen table, trying to hide behind a curtain of hair. You had a smudge of something on your face just above your cheekbone.” I’d been mortified later when I’d gone in the washroom and seen what a mess I was … well, a mess to my standards, but the actual garbage hadn’t done much damage except to my emotional wellbeing. The worst part was Deck seeing me like that. “You shovelled in that ice cream so goddamn fast I swear you must have had brain freeze a million times over.”
I did. But I wanted to eat the ice cream as fast as I could and escape Deck’s scrutiny. Even from the other room, I saw him talking quietly to Connor, but his eyes never left me.
“What were you telling him?” I’d always wanted to know.
“That no fuckin’ way had you tripped, and if he didn’t kick the ass of whoever was bullying you, I would.”
But I never told Connor who was responsible despite him badgering me. A week later, they were deployed overseas.
I never saw Connor again.
“You were sixteen,” Deck said. “And I shouldn’t have wanted you, but fuck …” I jerked my gaze to him. He wanted me? The quiet, spindly girl who was afraid of her own shadow? “Connor saw it, too. There was just something about you … so stubborn … determined to be strong. Yet, vulnerable and fuck, babe … so goddamn beautiful.”
He thought I was beautiful. “I wasn’t stubborn or determined.”
“Yeah, baby. You were.”
I stiffened. “I wasn’t.” I was a wimp. I was tortured for months and never did anything about it.
“You were.”
“I wasn’t, damn it.”
“You done arguing?” He glanced at me over his shoulder, his tatted arm flexed and tense as he held the frying pan.
“Yeah.” I was feeling shaky and uncertain … no, it was way more than that. I was totally fucked up because Deck had wanted me back then. “You never saw me like a kid sister?”
Deck snorted. “Fuck no. Jesus, babe. I just fuckin’ kissed you.”
“I know, but back then—”
“No. Never. Now, go set the table.”
I stared at his back, his shoulder muscles flexing as he stirred the vegetables, the ink on his arm catching the sun’s sinking rays through the large bay windows above the sink. I knew each one of the tatts. Over the years, he’d extended the tribal design from his elbow up to the side of his neck. I felt heat rise on my cheeks as I thought about my fingertips sliding over the contours of his arms, tracing each then kissing the side of his neck where—
“Georgie.”
I jerked my gaze from his neck up to his eyes. Shit, his eyes were narrowed and lips tight and Jesus, it was as if he had the reflection of fireworks blazing in his pupils. My heart sped up and my chest rose with every ragged breath.
He was looking at me as if he’d devour me, and it turned me on so goddamn much the moisture between my legs became wet and shivers became trembles.
“Table.” It was one abrupt word, and yet it vibrated through me as if he’d just made me come with the flick of his finger.