Page 16 of Thirteen Years
“Listen, Rebecca,” I said, firmly yet gently. “I don’t know your backstory. I don’t know your history other than what you briefly shared. But I think you deserve some good in your life. Especially if what you’re saying is that you’ve been alone all the time your daughter has been in your life. Let me take you on a date. Your first ever date. I don’t have to meet your daughter, and I’m not asking to, sweetheart. I know she comes first. I don’t wanna cause anyone any heartbreak here. I’m going into this hoping it turns into something, but I’m not expecting you to feel the same way or expect the same things.” I finally shut my trap. I probably terrified the poor woman.
I listened to her breathe out. Was it a sigh of relief?
“Okay.” she said, softly. “Hearing all that definitely helps. This is just uncharted territory.”
I grinned and sat up on the sofa, setting my elbows on my knees. I hadn’t bothered with a shirt after a quick shower and I let my eyes run over my tattoos as I spoke. Black ink sprawled over the majority of my body, one tattoo bleeding into the other. Everything meant something and tied together to make a huge canvas. It was about time to remove the dressing on my newest one. It always soothed me, scanning them, remembering my stories and how far I’d come. Every tattoo meant something.
“So, I’m thinking of something low key. Maybe just a movie? Conversation wouldn’t be too hard then? Or maybe bowling, if you did want to talk?” I asked, trying to feel her out.
“Bowling would be good. I haven’t been in ages, probably since middle school.”
“Sounds like it's needed then. What night works for you?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that one. I have open evenings but the only one I know here in town is Monica. She has the girls for a sleepover tonight and I don’t want to bombard her with two weekends in a row with Nat.”
I nodded and then caught myself. She couldn’t fucking see me. “That makes perfect sense, babe. You just feel Monica out and let me know. Balls in your court, sweetheart.”
She laughed softly, “I’m gonna have to get used to these terms of endearment.”
“Yeah, probably. You seem to bring it out of me,” I said huskily.
I heard her shifting around on the other end of the phone.
Jesus. Was she in bed?
I wondered what she was wearing, then shut that idea down real quick. I was gonna have to take another shower after this phone call, probably a cold one. Jesus. Just knowing she hadn’t been touched in so long and had only been with two men. Two fucking idiots from what it sounded like. She obviously wasn’t naive with the smut I now knew she read. But she obviously hadn’t experienced anything mindblowing in the bedroom. I shut my eyes trying to erase the image of her spread out on my bed for me. God I wanted to make her scream my name and feel things that would shake her world apart.
“Listen, sweetheart,” I said, my voice coming out gravely now, “I should probably let you go. I have an early shift tomorrow and it's getting late. One of us needs their beauty sleep, and it's not you.”
She laughed out loud at that, “You don’t need any help in that department either, Officer Marshall,” she said.
My entire body clenched and I growled under my breath. Jesus. I needed to get off this phone before I initiated our texting conversation and terrified her.
“You have sweet dreams, babe,” I said.
“You too, Lucas.”
*Click*
I just sat staring at my cell phone. I’d done it. I’d gotten a date with her. I dropped my phone and flopped back down on the sofa, rubbing my hand over my beard. She needed someone who was going to take things slow. But this woman brought out a need in me I hadn’t ever felt before. I wanted to know what she tasted like, how her body would respond to mine, what she’d sound like coming apart for me. I groaned and adjusted myself before standing up.
“Get yourself together, Lucas,” I growled as I stalked into the bathroom, cranking the shower on as cold as it would go.
“Lucas, I just worry about you being alone all the time,” Nana said, looking at me.
I hated when she did this. The woman looked old and frail but was still a spitfire. She could stare through someone’s soul and make them feel about two inches tall.
“Nan, I promise I’m okay. I love my job and have friends,” I replied.
“A man needs more than that. And a lot more than those hussies you spend one night with and throw to the side,” she snapped sassily.
“NAN.” I said, horrified.
She cackled. “Oh! like I don’t know what a young man like you does? I may be old but I was young once, Lucas James Marshall. Your Pappy and I got into plenty of mischief in our day.”
“La la la la la!” I practically yelled, plugging my ears like a toddler.
She cackled even harder and I had to grin at her.
