Page 51 of Lucky Haven

Shit. I put my bowl down on the coffee table and give her my full attention. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“You were twelve, right?”

“Yes. I never knew my dad—Fred’s brother. He died when I was a baby, in a car accident. We were all in the car, and my mom had injuries that she never fully recovered from. I was completely fine, but she depended on pain killers, and that need escalated over the next decade. As an adult, looking back, I think it was pretty clear that her source for those medications should have been investigated, but to the best of my knowledge, nothing was pursued there. She overdosed, and my uncle became my guardian.”

“That’s horrible.” I mean it on all levels. Being raised by Fred Bingham had to have been difficult, on top of losing her mother.

“I think about her all the time. She was beautiful, and funny, and for a long time, my uncle made sure that I didn’t think of her in that light, because she partied and dated other men after my dad was killed. But she was just trying to live, you know? I can’t blame her for that.”

“Of course not. There’s no shame in survival.” I scrub my hand over my jaw. “You know how I changed my name when I became an adult?”

She nods. “To match your mother’s name, right?”

“That’s right.” I take a deep breath. “Luna had a wild era in her teenage years. She ran away from home at fifteen, travelled across the country, and was pregnant with Ridge when she was sixteen. Our father was a much older man who picked her up as a hitchhiker. She found herself trapped in a relationship that her family wouldn’t approve of, and she never reconnected with them. It took us a long time, well into adulthood, to get the story out of her, and even now we only know parts of it. It’s her least favourite topic.”

“Of course it is.” Haven sets her bowl down, too, and takes my hands.

“Zane tried to reconnect with our cousins in Ontario last year, but so far, she’s dodged our attempts to organize a family reunion.”

“Really? Why?”

“I love my mother with all of my heart. She’s a warrior, and raised us so fucking well given the circumstances around our early years. But she’s never forgiven herself for losing that connection with her family. And when Zane found them, it was too late. Her parents and brothers have both passed on, and she has nephews, but…”

“It’s hard for her.”

“So hard.”

“I had no idea.”

“Nobody does. We carry enough visible wounds, that one’s been kept in a vault.”

“I’ll never tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t. I trust you.”

We finish eating, and wash up together, and then it’s the easiest thing in the world to pull her into my arms and kiss her again. Not as a dare, and not as a penalty for passing. Not as part of a game. Just because she’s soft and understanding and we both have sadness and grief inside us that is temporarily soothed by hungry, needy kisses.

We start in the kitchen, with her pressed against the counter, and then I carry her to the couch and hold her on my lap as I explore her mouth with mine.

But when we slide into a reclining position, when she twists around and suddenly her whole, warm length is pressed against my body—that’s when I know I need to be the stronger person and call this night to an end.

“That’s enough,” I whisper against her lips. “I need to walk you home before we move off the fringes into full on benefits.”

She whimpers, but nods.

It’s the right call.

When we stand, and she’s fixed her dress, I catch her wrist.

I enjoy the way her pulse jumps against my fingertips, even in the loosest of manacles. “Jeb showing up at the garage this morning felt like a warning, you know? So I want you to know that I’m not messing around here. I’ll always do right by you.”

She smiles up at me. “I know.”

And the only reason I can let her go, and take her home, is the knowledge that I’ll get her for an entire day soon and I can take her to the ranch.

Chapter Fourteen