Dirty Little Promise (Forbidden Desires #2)

Emma

I spent the next week alternating between work and Gavin’s place. Or, more specifically, Gavin’s bed.

In the days after our lunch with my parents, I could tell there was still something weighing on his mind, but aside from that, things were good between us.

We were finally growing together, just like any normal couple would. Making memories and creating traditions.

We’d lie in bed together, naked and panting, and then we’d flip on the television and watch shows about house renovations or documentaries about food production in faraway places. It didn’t matter the topic; Gavin found a way to make everything interesting.

As I lay in his arms each night, I could feel myself sinking deeper, wishing I could stay there forever and always.

Of course, it wasn’t all roses. Some nights I still woke up, my heart pounding from a nightmare about that car bearing down on me, or about the bloody, pulpy mess left on my porch. There were little reminders of the threat everywhere.

The fact that I could no longer drive or take the bus, and still had to have the driver take me wherever I wanted to go.

The police officer stationed outside the library whenever I was at work.

The memory of that bloody bag every time I passed my stoop.

Today had been one of the days where I couldn’t just forget about it all. Bethany had taken a personal day, and the library had closed early due to a major leak in one of the bathrooms, leaving me all alone with my thoughts. By the time afternoon rolled around, I didn’t hesitate before clicking the Answer button on my cell phone when it rang.

“Hi, Mom.”Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“Emma, honey.” My mom’s sugary tones wafted over the receiver, making me relax into my chair at the comforting sound of her voice. “I was just wondering what you were up to tonight?”

Funny you should ask. I was planning on wallowing in fear while I waited for my boyfriend to get home.

“Nothing. Why, is everything okay?” I asked.

“Fine, fine. I was just hoping you could come up for a visit. I know it’s a little bit of a drive, but I was thinking we could go to the tea house for dinner, and you could spend the night.”

I glanced at the clock. In order to meet Mom in time for dinner, I’d have to leave pretty much as soon as I locked up for the day. But Gavin was working late tonight anyway, and I wasn’t looking forward to my evening alone.

“That sounds great, Mom, but can I ask . . . I mean, I just saw you last weekend. Are you sure everything is fine?”

“I promise, everything is great. I just want to see my girl.”

I breathed a hesitant sigh of relief. Sometimes a little alone time with Mom was the best remedy.

“Well, then, how can I refuse? I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

Quickly, I shot a text to Gavin and then to my driver before gathering my things and shoving them into my oversized work bag. My slacks and sweater would have to be good enough for the tea room, though I knew my mother would insist I try to squeeze into one of my old dresses from high school that still hung in my closet at their house.

No, thank you.

When my car arrived, I jogged down the steps and ducked inside, joining my driver in the front seat and changing the radio to my favorite station.

“Good afternoon, Emma,” Felix said with a grin.

“Hey, Felix. Did you get the directions okay?”

He gave me a thumbs-up and we sped onto the street. Luckily, we’d gotten out before the worst of the rush-hour traffic. Still, I felt bad about dragging Felix so far away on such short notice.

Digging my phone from my pocket, I pinged a text to Gavin.

Can you give Felix a tip or a bonus or something from me? I’ll give you the money when I get home.

Gavin replied in a matter of seconds.

Already done, but I’m not taking money from you. Have a great time.

Frowning, but knowing better than to argue, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and concentrated on the road ahead.

My mom could say it was nothing but a casual visit, but so many impromptu trips in a row had me slightly on edge. I just hoped, if my suspicions were right, that it didn’t have anything to do with Gavin. She’d admitted she misjudged him, after all. What else was there to say on the subject?

Two hours later, Felix pulled into my parents’ driveway and escorted me to the door. I rang the doorbell, then insisted he head back to the car before my mother opened the door with a wide grin.

“Hey, Mom.” I smiled back. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Bowling. I thought it’d be nice to have a girls’ night.”

“You’re right; it is. Sorry, but I didn’t have a dress on me for the tea room.”

“Well, you could always—”

“I’m not going to try on my old dresses,” I said quickly. “Come on, let’s go.”

Under Felix’s watchful gaze, I headed to my mother’s car and got inside, and when we pulled out onto the main road, he was directly behind us.

“Should I be nervous about the man in the black car following us?”

“Oh.” I let out a nervous laugh, heat rushing to my face. “No, that’s my driver, Felix. He’s supposed to look after me, that’s all.”

My mother raised her eyebrows. “Gavin’s orders, I’m guessing?”

“You got it.” I adjusted my collar. “I know it’s a little silly.”

“But sweet too. He’s looking out for you.”

A few minutes later, my mother pulled in front of an old Victorian building. After parking, we made our way to the wrought-iron door.

“Your grandmother loved this place,” Mom cooed as she always did when we walked inside and saw the polished wood floors and the vintage chandeliers. A girl in a white shirt and bow tie approached us and led us to a table already laden with scones, clotted cream, and tea cookies.

As ever, my mother ordered us one pot of Earl Grey and another of jasmine tea before tucking into her scone.

For a while, we chatted easily—me discussing the library’s latest events and acquisitions, and her talking about the latest news on the retired-teacher circuit. The tea arrived, and we each poured a cup of our preferred favorite, Earl Grey. The jasmine, though neither of us would say it, was for my grandmother. It would sit between us untouched, but the scent of it comforted us both and made it feel like she was still here with us in some way.

“So, tell me more about this boy,” my mom finally said.

I giggled without warning. “I hardly think Gavin’s a boy, Mom. He’s thirty-four years old.”

She smiled. “I suppose that’s true.”

The truth was, it didn’t matter his age. Gavin was all man.

“I’m actually more curious to hear your thoughts,” I admitted. “Now that you’ve met him, what do you think?”

“I think he’s a good man. He’s smart. Driven. A good businessperson. And he obviously cares for you.”

“But?” I raised my eyebrows.

“But . . . I wonder if you think he’ll be there for you. Sometimes, in the beginning, it’s hard to tell things like that. And a man with so many interests, so much money, can can he be counted on in good times and bad?”

“I think so,” I said, suddenly filled with apprehension.

My mother shook her head. “That’s not good enough, sweets.”

“Where is this coming from?” I asked, my brow furrowed.

She let out a deep breath. “Did you ever wonder why your parents were so much older than everyone else’s?”

My frown deepened. My mother had been forty when I was born. “Truthfully? I guessed I was an accident. Not in a bad way, but like a surprise.”

My mother tilted her head to the side, looking at me with a new kind of softness in her eyes. Slowly, she shook her head. “No, not at all. I never told you everything, really. That’s the way of it with mothers. We don’t want to burden our children with our own pain, but maybe it’s time I told you the whole story.”

A pause lingered in the air, and she took a sip of her tea before spreading her hands wide on the frilly tablecloth.

“Your father and I married when we were eighteen. We were stupid and in love, and back then, college wasn’t as important as it is today. We worked our menial jobs, and your father supported me while I went back to school to become a teacher.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“But what you don’t know is, hard as all that was, we were struggling with something else. See, the thing we wanted most of all was a baby. We tried and tried. I had five miscarriages in a ten-year period. And then, well, when we turned thirty, we decided it was time to stop trying. I tried to move on. Tried to feel fulfilled with my job and my life as it was. After all, lots of people choose not to have children, right?”

Her sad smile broke my heart as she continued. “But I got depressed. Not the blues, or feeling low, but the kind of depression where you can’t get out of bed or think of a reason to bother brushing your hair.”

“Oh, Mom,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine, and she rolled her thumb absently over the back of it.

“And you know what? Your father was my rock. He stood with me that year, never once wavering. Not when I lost my job because of it, not when I broke down or took it out on him. He stayed and we got through it. Eventually, we found our happiness together.” Her lips trembled into a smile. “So, when I was forty and got pregnant with you? You were our miracle, Emma. Never, ever an accident. But the important part of this particular story is, if it never happened? If we’d never been blessed with having you? That strife, those dark times, they let me know in my heart that I had the right man.”

“That’s beautiful,” I said, tears pricking my eyes.

She shook her head. “It’s what it should be. So, my question to you is this, my sweet daughter. Whatever life throws at you—the pain and the heartache and the joys—is this the person you want by your side?”

My answer came to me without hesitation. “He’s the one, Mom. I know it.”

I only hoped he felt the same.