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“Someone who loves me so much, he’d fight anything to hold on to me. Even death or God or whatever else stands in his way.” She sighed heavily, and I heard her shifting. “I want someone to love me like Daddy loves Mom. Endlessly. Deathlessly.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
I’d thought for an all too brief time I’d found someone who loved me just like that. Someone who would put me above everything and everyone else. Who might spend his life cherishing me and our love. Someone who actually needed me.
But then he showed me differently.
A stray tear leaked from the corner of my eye, and I quickly scrubbed it away. I’d thought I was all cried out, but two more tears fell over my lashes. My heart ached, wanting something I knew I would probably never get.
Beside me, Damien began to snore, making my sisters and me laugh quietly. He could sleep anywhere, during anything, and for that, I was kind of jealous of the little brat.
One by one, the others followed Damien into slumber until it was just me awake. Feeling restless, I carefully untangled myself from my brother and tiptoed to the door. Downstairs, I made a pot of coffee and then opened the fridge. It was stocked full of groceries, and I started taking out the fresh herbs and vegetables I would need for homemade chicken noodle soup.
I wasn’t sure what Daddy’s diet would consist of the next few days, but I did know he loved the soup Mom made. She’d taught my sisters and me how to make it when we were little. I would make a big pot of it and then take some to the hospital later for both Daddy and Uncle Shane.
After putting a pot full of a whole chicken with garlic and herbs on the stove to start to simmer, I began chopping carrots and celery to go in it. I was so focused on what I was doing that when I heard a firm tap on the back door, I squealed in fright and nicked my thumb with the knife.
“Sonofabitch,” I cried, grabbing for a paper towel even before walking over to the back door.
It was very early in the morning, just after three, but I wasn’t worried it could be one of the paparazzi or even a deranged fan of my dad’s at the door. For one, we lived in a secure gated community. No one got in without getting by the four guards that manned the gates at all times.
But when I opened the door, I quickly took two steps back when I saw who stood on the other side. “Go away,” I snapped at Braxton.
He crossed his arms over his massive chest, his dark eyes hooded as he glared down at me. “What the hell are you doing answering the door without even asking who it is? It’s three in the morning. I could have been anyone here to hurt you. Damn it, Nevaeh! You have no awareness of your own personal safety.”
“I knew it wasn’t anyone here to hurt me, asshole. I figured it was one of my aunts or uncles checking on us. Or someone from Seller’s security, making sure I was okay since the kitchen light was on.” Pissed, I started to shut the door in his face, but he caught it before it could close and pushed his way into the house.
His gaze went to the stove where I was cooking, then back to the paper towel I had pressed to my thumb. “What happened?” he growled when he saw the blood staining the paper towel. He reached out to grasp my hand, but I quickly moved away, going to the sink to rinse the small wound.
“You scared me, and I cut myself,” I told him over my shoulder.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Kitten.” I felt his heat right behind me a second before he was clutching my arm and lifting my hand to inspect the injury. It was barely anything and it sure as hell wouldn’t need stitches, but the way he was looking at it would make anyone think I was about to lose an appendage or something. “Does it hurt?”
“It just stings a little. I’m fine, Brax. Stop fussing. I’ll live.” Pulling my hand away, I walked over to the drawer where Mom kept a small first aid box. After putting a smear of antibiotic ointment on the cut, I pulled out a bandage.
Braxton took it from me and opened it, then carefully wrapped my thumb. When he was done, he lifted my hand and kissed the bandage. He closed his eyes, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. I wanted to look away, but my eyes reverted to him every time I tried. His handsome face twisted, making him look like he was in agony, and my heart clenched at the sight.
“Why are you here?” I choked out after nearly a full minute had passed.
“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he murmured, and his eyes finally opened. “I only meant to check the outside of the house to make sure you were safe, but then I saw the kitchen light on and smelled something cooking.”
“I’m making homemade chicken noodle soup for Daddy and Uncle Shane,” I told him and moved back to the stove and chopping board. I finished cutting up the vegetables and tossed them into the pot with the chicken. Returning the lid to the pot, I set a two-hour timer and turned back to face the man who was making Mom’s huge kitchen feel claustrophobic.
“It smells delicious already.”
“Thanks,” I muttered lamely. Walking over to the coffeepot, I pulled down two mugs from the cabinet above it and filled one before handing it to him and then making a cup for myself. I should have been demanding he leave, but even though my heart was aching and I was pissed as hell at him, part of me didn’t want him to go.
He shifted, and I saw him grimace. I knew his leg was hurting him, so I moved to the kitchen table and sat, knowing he wouldn’t unless I did first. As expected, he took the seat beside me, and I heard his relieved exhale.
“Did you bring your pain meds?”
“No, but Mia remembered to pack them when she grabbed my things for me.” I flinched at the sound of her name, and he muttered a curse. “We really were just trying to protect you, baby.”
“By keeping me in the dark about what was going on with you?” Tears filled my eyes, and I tried to blink them back, but they fell anyway. “Do you really have so little respect for me that you don’t even want to tell me major things that happen in your life?”
“Fuck, Nevaeh,” he said with a groan and reached for my hands. Lifting them, he kissed each palm. “Of course I respect you. I love you.”
“I really don’t know what to believe anymore. You swore it was all just in your parents’ heads and that you would never marry Darcy. You promised no secrets. Then she showed up at the house with an actual wedding invitation, saying you and Mia helped her mom and yours pick it out.” I shook my head, causing more tears to spill over my lashes. “I was blindsided, Braxton. I had Mom on the phone, telling me about Daddy. And I still don’t remember what she said because I was so focused on Darcy, who was tearing my heart out of my chest. She said…” I sucked in a deep breath. “She said she didn’t mind if you kept me. That every guy has a mistress.”
