Page 80 of Miss Trust

Chance

Tory had no idea what her unexpected deviation from our dinner did to me. To know she craved sex with me enough to forgo our plans was immensely satisfying.

I put my forehead against hers, still inside of her and in no hurry to break the connection.

Connection. Such a simple word. Yet it held so much meaning. There was no denying the connection I felt with this incredible woman. Even in the haze of post-sex, I couldn’t wait to be with her again tonight. Would the thought freak her out? Probably. As I was only recently coming to terms with my new feelings for her, I knew I had to proceed cautiously. But cautiously toward what? A relationship with her? The thought should have sent me for the hills, but instead I was traveling kisses down her neck and enjoying the way she sighed with contentment.

While growing up, I’d had the ultimate example of a dysfunctional marriage in my parents. This had been followed by a steady stream of weddings—three more and counting—for my father and bitter, overshared memories from my mother. I always thought of love and relationships as things which caused misery. To me, the idea of committing to one woman meant giving up my life.

Yet in this moment I questioned whether it was possible to have both commitment and happiness. Perhaps it was time to explore the possibility.

The sound of Tory’s stomach growling brought me back to the moment and to the fact she hadn’t yet eaten.

“Well, that was sexy,” she muttered, trying to scoot away.

I held her in place, cupping her chin. “There’s nothing unsexy about you. But let’s get you fed. We have all night for more sexy times.” I pulled out and helped her down from the counter.

“Penelope may want me to sleep with her tonight.”

She was retreating. Already searching for her thong and shutting herself off emotionally. “I understand. There’s a bathroom down the hall to the left there if you need a moment.”

“Thanks.”

Once she walked away, I took care of the condom and refastened my jeans. It was tempting to push her, but I wouldn’t. Instead, I would be patient. Starting with dinner.

When Tory reappeared, I had our to-go dinner set up on my small kitchen table. “It’s still warm,” I commented, hoping to cut through the awkwardness.

She took a seat, sipped some of her water, before digging into her tamale. “God, you weren’t kidding. This tamale is heaven. There was this woman who had this tamale cart near the train station—” She stopped suddenly as if she thought twice about sharing her story.

“Go on. Please.” I coveted her stories. Her past. Her present. Anything to give me another piece of a puzzle I’d yet to solve.

“I’d just turned eighteen, and Teagan and I had moved into the shitty apartment you saw. Anyhow, on my way home from commuting into the city via the train, there was a tamale cart. Sometimes on paydays I’d bring home some for Teagan and me. It was such a treat, and these remind me of them.”

There was no doubt Tory had given all she could to her sister, the same way she did for her daughter. “That’s a nice memory.” A thought occurred to me. “It must’ve been tough to leave an apartment with so many memories.”

“It may sound strange, given how shabby it was and how run-down the neighborhood is, but it was the first home my sister and I ever knew where we didn’t have to worry about a revolving door of men, impromptu parties, overdoses, our electricity being turned off, or money being stolen. It was the first place I’d ever felt safe.”

“It was home.”

A smile ghosted her lips. “It was. Where would you call home? Is it here?”

I surveyed the place with its beautiful bay windows overlooking the city and modern furniture, all expertly decorated. “No. Guess I’ve never thought of having a home.”

“What about growing up?”

I hesitated about sharing. My childhood of lavish riches was so far from the way she’d grown up it felt like bragging. Yet she’d asked, and I found myself wanting to be honest. “My father’s estate is in New Hampshire, where Reid and I grew up, and he still resides there. But he’s had five brides since then. Multiple families have been in and out of the same house. I think by this point he probably has a moving company on standby.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Reid, Kelsey, a ten-year-old brother, Jasper, and five-year-old twin boys, Peter and James.”

She paused, fork to her mouth. “You have five-year-old brothers?”

“Weird, I know. And with my father on wife number four, I’m certain I’ll have a new baby brother soon. Aside from Kelsey, it has been all boys. It’s a weird source of pride for my father.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed at your father’s stamina or grossed out.”

“Same.”