Page 64 of Her Unflinching Warrior (Omega Sky)
“I don’t know their middle names,” he teased.
“And your mother? How often does she come out to Virginia and visit you two?”
Gideon sighed. “It’s complicated.”
Jada frowned. “What does that mean? Family is family. Sure, it gets complicated—you fight and yell and throw down—but in the end, you always have each other’s backs. Don’t you go visit her?”
“Mike does.”
Gideon tried to extricate himself from her hold, and Jada considered letting him go, but this was too important so she hung on.
“Gideon, you’ve been wanting to have an important conversation with me ever since I got here, haven’t you?”
He stood still, his eyes turned molten, and he nodded. “Absolutely. I want to talk to you about what I said in Kentucky six months ago. Are you ready to listen?”
“If that conversation is going in the direction I think it is, then we need to be able to speak about a lot of things. Things like why you and your mom aren’t speaking.”
Gideon sighed. “I agree,” he said as he pulled her closer. “But Jada, I’m only going to share that kind of information with someone who is sharing my life. Is that going to be you?”
Jada gasped and fell backward in his hold.
Sharing his life?
“Gideon,” she rasped out his name. “You can’t mean that.”
“For the last six months, I’ve been a bear to work with. My team has noticed it, and they were gearing up to send someone to New York and beg for you to give me a second chance.”
Jada snorted. “Like that would have worked.”
Gideon cupped her cheek and traced her full bottom lip with his thumb. “I know it wouldn’t have worked. I hurt you badly the last time I saw you in Kentucky.”
Jada took in a deep breath, “you did,” she agreed. “But I know you. At least I’m pretty sure I know you now. You push people away. Me, maybe your mother…” she let her voice fade away.
“Ma, no. I haven’t pushed her away—that’s beyond complicated. You, yes.”
“But why, Gideon?” her lower lip trembled. “You said you’re too old for me. You said you were damaged. I don’t see it. It sounded like a line, a different way to say, ‘it’s me, not you.’.”
She hated the fact that she felt tears coming on. She looked up at him, hoping against hope that he would tell her it wasn’t true.
“Ah, Angel, it was me. Itisme.” She saw his pain, it mirrored her own. It was too much.
“Can you explain it to me so I understand?” she begged.
“It’s a long story, but yeah, I can.” He held out his hand. “Come with me.”
She took his hand and followed him down the hall.
