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He tenses. "Did he put his fucking hands on you?"
"No, nothing like that," I promise, allowing him to relax again. "He was actually pretty decent. But his sister was amazing. She was about ten years older than him and never married. She owned her own business and had this great life that had nothing to do with men. She just lived on her terms. For the first time, I realized that I didn't have to live my life trying to live up to my mom's standards. I just had to live it."
"She sounds great. The sister, I mean. Not your mom."
I smile at the clarification. "She was. She treated me like who I was and what I wanted mattered. We still keep in touch."
"Are your mom and her brother still together?"
I laugh loudly. "God no. He divorced her like six months after they married. Honestly, he was way too good for her. I don't know how she managed to trap him."
"You and your mom still aren't on great terms."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "I see her at Christmas, and that's about it. It works better for both of us that way. She spends the whole time criticizing every aspect of my life."
"Not anymore," he says, a dark thread in his voice. "If she wants to keep seeing you on Christmas, she'll learn to treat you with respect."
"Fine by me. I'm much rather spend Christmas with Olive anyway."
"You'll be spending it with me now, angel baby. My Ma is going to love you. She always wanted daughters to dote on. She got stuck with heathen sons instead."
"Are you guys close?"
"We are. She's mean as hell to me and my brothers, but we love her anyway."
"She is not mean to you," I say with a laugh, not believing him for a second.
"She is," he protests, an indulgent smile in his voice that lets me know he loves ever dang minute of it. "She terrorizes the shit out of us. She says it's payback for all the gray hair we gave her."
"You probably deserve it."
"Yeah, probably."
I giggle, unable to help myself. I bet he was a handful as a kid. He's a handful now. He and his brothers probably drove his poor mom crazy.
"What about your dad?"
"He tells us to keep our damn mouths shut and keep her happy. He coddles the hell out of her."
"That's where you get it from, then."
"What?"
"Your protectiveness."
"Maybe." He slips his hands around my waist, anchoring me to him. "Or maybe I just like being the man you lean on. Taking care of you is satisfying as hell."
"Says the man getting orgasms out of the deal."
"No." He turns me to face him, his expression suddenly serious. "The orgasms are fucking phenomenal. But taking care of you is a reward in and of itself, angel baby. You don't trust many people. I doubt you lean on anyone. Knowing you trust me with that part of you means something to me. Don't ever think it doesn't."
"I know," I whisper, cupping his cheek. "I was only teasing."
He turns his face, nipping at my palm. "I don't joke when it comes to you."
"I'm beginning to get that."
"Yeah?" He grins. "Well, it's about fucking time."
