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Julia traced his fist with one of her fingers. “They got bored and went into her bedroom to f**k. They didn’t even bother to close the door. That was my last Thanksgiving with Sharon.”
“Your mother sounds like Anne Sexton.”
“Sharon never wrote poetry.”
“My God, Julia.” Gabriel unclenched his fists and hugged her close.
“I cleaned up so that they wouldn’t get mad at me, and I hopped on a bus. I rode around aimlessly until I saw a Salvation Army mission. They were advertising a Thanksgiving meal for the homeless. I asked if I could volunteer in the kitchen, and they put me to work.”
“That’s how you spent Thanksgiving?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t go home, and the people at the mission were friendly. After the guests were served, I had a turkey dinner with the volunteers. They even sent me home with leftovers. And pie.” Julia paused thoughtfully. “No one ever baked me a pie.”
He cleared his throat. “Julianne, why didn’t your father take you away from her?”
“It wasn’t always bad.” She began fidgeting with his t-shirt, gathering the soft cotton in between her fingers and tugging slightly.
“Ouch. Careful.” Gabriel chuckled. “You’re pul ing out what few chest hairs I have.”
“Sorry.” Julia nervously smoothed the cotton with her fingers. “Um, my dad lived with us until I was four, when my mom kicked him out. He went back to live in Selinsgrove, where he grew up. He used to call me on Sundays. I was talking to him one day, and I let slip the fact that one of the boyfriends had wandered into my room the night before, naked, thinking my room was the bathroom.” She cleared her throat and began speaking quickly, so Gabriel wouldn’t have a chance to ask that question.
“Dad freaked out, wanting to know if the boyfriend had touched me.
He hadn’t. He wanted to speak to my mom, and when I explained that I wasn’t supposed to bother her when one of the boyfriends was over, he told me to go into my room and lock the door. Of course, I didn’t have a lock.
First thing the next morning, Dad showed up to take me to Selinsgrove. I guess it was a good thing the boyfriend was gone by the time he arrived. I think my father would have killed him.”
“So you left?”
“Yes. Dad told Sharon that if she didn’t get rid of the boyfriends and get off the alcohol, he was going to take me away from her permanently.
She agreed to go into rehab, and I went to live with him.”
“How old were you?”
“Eight.”
“Why didn’t you stay with him?”
“He was never home. He had a day job that was very busy and sometimes he had to work weekends. Plus, he was a volunteer with the fire department. When school finished for the year, he sent me back to St.
Louis. Sharon was out of rehab by then and working in a nail salon. He thought I’d be fine.”
“But you came back?”
She hesitated.
“You can tell me, Julianne.” He squeezed her tightly and waited, softly stroking her hair. “It’s all right.”
She swallowed. Hard. “The summer before I turned seventeen, Dad brought me back.”
“Why?”
“Um, Sharon hit me. I fell against the corner of the kitchen counter, hitting my head. I called my dad from the hospital and said that if he didn’t come and get me I was going to run away. And that was it. I never saw my mother again.”
“Do you have a scar?”
She took his hand and brought it up to the back of her head, pressing his fingers against a raised line of flesh where hair no longer grew.
“I’m sorry for this.” He traced it a few times and pressed his lips against it. “I’m sorry that those things happened to you. If I could, I’d beat them all senseless…starting with the bastard who is your father.”
“I was pretty lucky, actually. Sharon only hit me once.”
“Nothing you have told me sounds even remotely lucky.”
“I’m lucky now. No one hits me here. And I have a friend who feeds me.”
Gabriel shook his head and cursed. “You should have been cuddled and adored and treated like a princess. That’s what Rachel had.”
“I don’t believe in fairy tales,” she breathed.
“I’d like to make you believe.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“Reality is better than fantasy, Gabriel.”
“Not if reality is the fantasy.”
She shook her head, but smiled. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Her smile faded. “Do you have any scars?”
Gabriel’s face was impassive. “You can’t hit something that you don’t know is there.”
Julia leaned up and pressed her cheek into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s difficult to know what’s worse — being hit or being ignored. I guess it depends on what kind of pain you prefer.”
“I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I didn’t know.”
She took his hand in hers and wrapped their fingers together. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Are you going to go home now?”
“Not unless you want me to leave.” He stroked her hair again, carefully avoiding the place where the flesh was raised.
She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. “I want you to stay with me.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
Julia fell asleep while Gabriel remained awake contemplating the scars she had shown him, wondering with queasiness and anger about the scars she had not revealed.
“Julia?” he whispered. Her regular breathing and lack of response indicated that she was sleeping.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He kissed her cheek softly. “Least of all myself.”
Chapter 19
Julia awoke the next morning to the sounds of the shower. She was trying to work out how someone other than she could be in her washroom when the sounds stopped and a tall, brown-haired man wrapped in a small, purple towel came through the door. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she gasped, clapping a hand over her open mouth.
“Good morning,” said Gabriel, clutching the towel that was slung low on his hips with one hand while grabbing his clothes with the other.
Julia stared. And she wasn’t staring at his face.
Regardless of what she was staring at, his hair was wet and sticking out in unruly spikes from his head. Beads of water clung to his shoulders and chest and glistened off the surface of his tattoo. The contours of sinew, muscle and veins, symmetry and balance, idealized proportion, and classical lines would be breathtaking even to the casual observer. But Julia was anything but a casual observer, for she had spent the entire night with this very body in her bed, spooning her close and playing with her hair. And this body was attached to a damn fine mind and a very deep, passionate soul.
Nevertheless, Julia was staring at his physical form, and thus the term aquatic demi-god flitted through her consciousness.
Gabriel grinned. “I said good morning, Julianne.”
She closed her mouth. “Um, good morning.”
He walked over and leaned down, pressing a firm but gentle opened-mouth kiss against her lips. A few droplets of water splashed around her on the sheets. “Did you sleep well?”
She nodded slowly, feeling a good deal too warm.
“You’re not saying much.” He straightened up and smirked at her.
“You’re half-naked.”
“Right. Would you prefer me wholly naked?” He shifted the towel provocatively on his hips and grinned.
Julia nearly expired in shock.
“I’m just kidding, sweetheart.” He kissed her again, with a furrowed brow.
A discomforting thought occurred to him. He retreated backward with a very serious expression on his face. “I forgot about what happened to you in St. Louis. When you were little,” he clarified. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. I wasn’t thinking.”
Julia looked over at him with mute appreciation. She smiled shyly. “It’s all right. You’re just distracting. You seem happy this morning.”
He grinned. “Sharing a bed with you agrees with me. Can I make you breakfast?”
“Um, sure. But you know I don’t have a kitchen.”
“I’m a resourceful man.” Gabriel smiled at her genuinely, his warmth enough to overcome her embarrassment about her cooking facilities.
Just before he closed the bathroom door behind him, she was treated to the barest glimpse of the most beautiful gluteus maximus muscles as Gabriel dropped his purple towel.
Julia gaped like a codfish. P
The following evening, Rachel returned to Philadelphia from her romantic holiday with Aaron and promptly checked her voice mail. After a frantic call to her father, she immediately telephoned Gabriel and left a message.
“What the hell is going on up there, Gabriel? What did you do to Julia?
She only disappeared once in her life and that was when she was completely humiliated by her ex! So what the f**k did you do to her? I swear to God I’m hopping on a plane. Call me…
“By the way, Dad says hi and he’s glad you called. Would it kill you to call him once a week? He has decided to go back to work because he can’t stand being home alone. And by the way, he put the house up for sale.”
