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Hence the finger twitch. The near loss of control.
It was a mistake not leaving this afternoon, after what he said. That much was clear. He’d told himself that he could lock it down. That this was just a job.
And he’d fucking lied to himself. It became clear the second he walked in here, seeing that sweet mouth wrapped around a spoonful of peanut butter. All that sweet turned bitter when he realized that was her dinner because she’d go hungry so her son could always be full.
Irrationally, in that moment, he’d decided both of them would always be full, in every way possible. He’d make it that way.
Somehow.
Which was why he’d been a stupid fuck, gone out got the steak, the shit to go with it, came back to cook it for her. Fill her up in the one way he could, because he knew that an empty man like him could never fill up a woman like Elena.
Still, he took the glass.
The way her entire body sagged, like her life had depended on him taking that glass, hit him somewhere.
That’s why he spoke.
“Respect you,” he said, taking care not to squeeze the stem of the wine glass so hard it would smash. It looked nice. Kick ass. Unique, not something he could run to the store and replace. All of her shit was like that. Despite the fact she couldn’t spend thirty bucks on wine, her house managed to look like a million bucks. In her own, hippy, weird way. But it worked.
In a big way.
Everything about her worked in a big way.
That was the goddamn problem.
“Don’t say that to a lot of people, mostly ‘cause majority of people aren’t worth respecting, or else I don’t say that kinda shit,” he continued, not having full control over his voice, that softening of Elena’s features was puppeting him. “But with you, feels like it needs to be said, ‘cause I don’t think people tell you enough. You’re a good mom. Good person.”
Good, keep remembering that. Too good for you.
“Past ten years, haven’t had a chance to do good shit for a good person,” he continued. “Most of the stuff I do is the worst shit for good people, or sometimes for equally worse people. Until Greenstone. Still doin’ bad shit, though. Shit that puts marks against my soul. So was bein’ selfish buyin’ you wine, fixing your car. Giving myself a few marks for the other side. Not doin’ that shit ‘cause I think you’re a charity case, Elena. Doin’ it ‘cause I am. Need all the good I can take.”
She blinked at him, her mouth opening slightly, full lips teasing him with what it would be like to claim them, have them on his skin. On his cock.
The cock that was always at least half-hard when he was around her, when she wasn’t with the kid. Big reason why he focused on the kid. Or that’s what he told himself. Not because he liked the kid. ‘Cause the kid made it easier to breathe around the constant pain in his chest.
Christ, he was a stupid fuck for being here.
For still standing here, holding a wine glass, while she was inches away from him, close enough for him to know she smelled like honeysuckle.
He braced for it. Once what he’d said sunk in. He’d said more words in a handful of seconds to her than he’d said to… anyone in the past ten years. And it just came out, without him even meaning it to. Normally, it took great fucking effort, great fucking pain to speak to people. Luckily the Greenstone guys got that shit. Even their crazy fuckin’ wives who treated words like they got a prize for every one spoke, even they got it.
Rest of the world didn’t get it, which was why he separated himself from it the best he could.
Elena wouldn’t get it. Because she was Elena. She was also a woman. Women hear shit like that spouted, women who were interested—and fuck if he knew she was interested, she couldn’t hide shit on her beautiful face and it was torture—they reacted. Reacted by wanting more words, more feelings, all that kind of crap. And he’d have to be cruel to Elena to get her to stop.
He didn’t want to be cruel.
But had to be cruel to be kind and all that shit. His life, he was cruel to be cruel, and he didn’t give a fuck. Most people he dealt with deserved cruel. Others didn’t, but that was life.
With Elena, he wished he knew how to be kind without being cruel. The old him, dead and buried and decayed might have known one day.
But that man was dead, and it was this man standing in front of a beautiful, soft woman he was gonna have to be hard for.
