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“Paisley,” I whispered, horrified. “How did I not know about this?”
Her brown eyes darted up to mine. “The funny thing about all this? He’s a pastor, or was; I don’t know what he’s doing anymore. I haven’t seen him since I was eleven. At church on Sunday we were the picture-perfect family for the congregation, but when he’d get the itch to drink . . . he’d go a few towns over to a liquor store and it would start all over again. I think that’s why my mom provoked him with the cussing, because she felt like she couldn’t just leave a man who would drink himself to sleep a couple nights a week and leave us without any money . . . she wanted to be able to say he was abusive. Something about divorce being wrong in the Bible.” Paisley rolled her eyes. “They were so hypocritical.”
Grabbing loosely onto her forearms, I let my hands slide down until they were gripping hers and pulled her into my chest. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because we moved away from him when my mom finally divorced him. She met my stepdad a year later and we moved here with him for his job a year after that. That’s how I met you. By that time, I was mostly just bitter toward my mom for so many things. For making me grow up watching her entice him into beating her. For leaving me without a parent or two for the rest of the night. For teaching me when I was young that calling the cops would only harm the church.” She snorted. “So by the time I met you, I was distancing myself from my mom, forgetting about my dad, and falling in love with a boy who had a calming effect on me that I’d never known was possible.”
I shook my head, still not able to grasp all this. “I didn’t even know he was your stepdad, I’ve met him . . . I’ve spent so much time with your parents.”
“He’s great, and he’s great for my mom. She’s changed a lot since she met my stepdad. But you didn’t know because I felt closer to him than I did my real parents, and that’s why he adopted me so I have his last name. My mom’s nothing like she used to be, but I still don’t like being around her. And that’s why I don’t like churches or cussing.”
“Did he ever . . .” I trailed off, not able to voice the rest of my question.
“No, never! He never went looking for the fight; she just wouldn’t stop until he did. But once the cussing stopped, he was done. And, obviously, I wasn’t about to make him mad.”
“I’m so sorry, Pay, I’ll stop. I swear I—I’ll try.”
“Eli,” she said on a laugh and tightened her arms around me. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it is more of a joke between us now. Well, and Kristen too. It’s not like I still associate those words with the person using them getting beaten up. I did when I was younger, and when we first met. But that was a long time ago; now I just don’t find them necessary—unless you really make me mad for whatever reason.” She winked.
“I don’t know how you can joke about this.”
“Because it stopped fourteen years ago.” She shrugged like she hadn’t just blown my mind . . . again. Like she hadn’t just crushed this idea that my Paisley had grown up with the perfect life. “Drink,” she ordered, and handed me my coffee.
“Yes, ma’am . . . ?”
Paisley bounced on her toes as she grabbed her empty coffee cup and the sandwich wrappers. “I can’t kiss you until we’re done with coffee and breakfast, and I really need to kiss you after that!”
I laughed loudly, took the lid off the cup, and leaned over to dump it in the sink. “All done.”
Her eyebrows slammed down. “That’s cheating.”
“You’ll get over it.”
Grabbing around her waist, I hauled her small body back to mine and crushed my mouth to hers. One of her arms was caught between our bodies, her hand splayed against my chest, the other hand slowly trailed along my hair as her fingers curled around the back of my neck.
“Don’t change because of that story,” she begged. “Please just be the man I fell in love with.”
“I can do that.”
She smiled against my lips before kissing me once more. “Thank you.”
Backing away from me, she grabbed all the trash and threw it away before moving out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
“To brush my teeth and get dressed.” She drew out the words, making them sound more like a question.
My eyebrows rose and I scoffed. “You’re not getting dressed.”
Paisley looked down at my shirt on her body before glancing up at me again. “Why not?”
“I’m nowhere near done with you yet, and your clothes will get in the way. I want you just like that for the rest of the day.”
Her eyes widened and she bit down on her bottom lip. Letting her eyes trail down as much of my body as she could see from where I stood behind the counter, they bounced back up to my face before she took off running for my room.
I pulled off my shirt as I slowly followed behind—but my face fell when I realized her pile of clothes weren’t next to my dresser, and the bathroom door was shut. Grabbing the knob, I glared at the door when it didn’t turn.
“You better not put any more clothes on, Paisley.”
