Freed (23 page)

Heat rises in her cheeks, and her lips purse slightly before she replies, “Thanks, Denver. I’m glad you’ve had a good time.”

Karen gets caught up on the latest happenings with Victoria, while Ransom and I ooh, ahh, and nod in all the right places. My brain does, however, latch on to the snippet of conversation when she mentions life at Rutgers, because I’m dying to tell her to get her skinny ass back to Jersey and leave my man alone. After several minutes, Victoria makes her apologies for such a short visit, and reminds Ransom that she was sent to “steal” him away.

Ransom doesn’t give me any clues as to how he feels about being
stolen
, so I’m left to let my imagination run wild. “Let me get Karen settled, and I’ll head over. Go on up,” he tells her. “I’ll drive my truck.” Did I detect an underlying tone of hostility?

“Oh. All right,” she agrees. She hugs Karen and tosses me a quick goodbye before heading out.

“I’ll just get these dishes picked up,” I offer.

Before too long, he’s back, since I’ve purposely dawdled. Ransom spins me around, devours my face with his gaze, and before I can utter a word, his lips are on mine, insistent and all-consuming. He swallows my groan, gliding into my mouth without preamble. I’m too subdued by his kiss to even move my arms, which is nice, because I can focus on every little emotion his movements echo—confidence, passion, need, desire—all directed at me and me alone.

Since I’ve gone off to float leisurely in the pure, unadulterated security he exudes, it takes me a few seconds to realize he’s pulled back. Opening my eyes after a soft
hmm
ghosts from my lips, I focus on those piercing sea-glass eyes. He carries his soul in those eyes and uses them to read mine as well. Just a couple of the many things I love about him. And isn’t that so easy to know. Why then, is it so difficult for me to say?

He takes a deep, unhurried breath and gives me one brisk nod. “Yep, kissed it right off.” I would wrinkle my brow to indicate my confusion, but I’ve been kissed into submission, which leaves me waiting for him to explain. “I had to get that look off your face,” he confesses, cupping my jaw and tucking wayward strands of hair behind my ears. “This look right here, though—much better.”

“And which look did you kiss away?”

“Fear. And you, Denver Dempsey, have nothing to fear. Matter of fact, I don’t even want to lend credence to what put that look on your face by putting words to it. Just let my kiss, my touch, be enough to chase it all away.”

My voice trembles when I promise, “Done.”

He doesn’t say goodbye or make any promises as to when he will be back, and I have to say I like that. His unspoken promise that he’ll take care of whatever is going on and get back to me as soon as possible, is loud and clear.

After tidying up the kitchen a bit, I paste a smile on my face and bound into the living room to hang out with Karen, though my smile quickly becomes genuine. I’m really going to miss her. Is it odd that I enjoy hanging out with my boyfriend’s mother? Is there like, a code, I’m breaking here in the relationship status quo? I mentally shrug, since I have little value for convention. It feels right, so I’m not going to question it.

She glances up from her book and grins at me. “I can’t thank you enough for all the paperbacks, Denver. We have the same taste in books.” OK … so that makes me blush. “I have to say I was a little concerned when Victoria showed up. Not because I think you have anything to worry about,” she rushes out. “It’s just these things can be awkward, and your relationship with my son is so new. Anyway, I was real proud with how you handled yourself. A couple of her comments were a little on the, um—”
Bitchy, condescending, petty, transparent …
“—disrespectful side, but you didn’t let her get you wound up.”

I ease down on the couch across from her, but for some reason, I can’t sit back and get comfortable. “Well,” I murmur. “I’m glad it looked that way. I admit I wasn’t totally unaffected.”

“I can’t imagine you weren’t,” she muses. “And for me to sit here and say you have nothing to worry about or that Johnny is a good boy—” We share a snicker over her reference. “—that wouldn’t be fair of me. Life is full of uncertainties. One true thing, however, is the way in which we handle life’s curveballs. Good or bad—it determines our character.”

And if that isn’t a raw, touchy subject, I don’t know what is. “Yeah, I haven’t always been the best at controlling my reactions, but I think I’m making strides in the right direction. I’ve learned a lot about myself over the last few months.”

She nods her head fervently. “Well, our youth is all about self-discovery and carving out our way in this world. We just have to remember that we’re never too old to make a change, and that we’re not bound by our past mistakes. Lord knows, I had to learn the hard way on a few things myself. It took me years to find the strength to walk away from my destructive relationship with Ransom’s father, and even then, I couldn’t turn him away completely.” Her eyes mist over a little, and I wonder if she’s still pining for a man who sounded downright awful to me. “For a long time, I was so blinded by my love for him that I saw nothing but the possibility of what we
could
be instead of what we actually were. When that vision started to fade, I held on, in hopes that at least my son would have a father figure, but as we know, that was just as empty.”

After all this woman had overcome, she has no business beating herself up over past mistakes. “You did the best you could under the circumstances, Karen. From the first time Ransom spoke of you and what you’d been through together, his respect and love were glaringly obvious. And you’ve done a good job with him.”

I know I’m not the best at heartfelt stuff—emotions and all that—but if her beaming smile is any indication, I think I got it right. “Thank you, honey. Johnny has his faults, I’m sure, but he is good man.”

“The best,” I agree. “And as for faults, let’s see.” I exaggerate ticking them off with my fingers. “He can be pigheaded, cocky, and uncompromising.” We share in a laugh. “The thing is, and don’t you dare tell him I said this, he rarely uses those traits for evil, and let’s face it, all of those traits can be positives too—determined, confident, and persistent. I honestly don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the past few months without him.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you have each other. I think you’re good for him too. Ransom needs someone strong. Someone who will challenge him. And you, my dear, are no wallflower. Not that I think he would run over anyone like that. Just the opposite, in fact, I think if he were with someone like that, he’d try to dull who he is.”

A silence falls over us, and I can tell Karen needs some quiet time to recharge, so I make the excuse of catching up on some phone calls while I’ve got the chance. I slip into Ransom’s room, marveling again at how the young Ransom had always known what he wanted to do. His room is a shrine to his rodeo wins—trophies, belt buckles, and the pictures. I didn’t think Ransom could hold any greater appeal to me … until I saw photos of a shaggy-headed Ransom. But, I would have mixed emotions if he decides to grow it out, since I’m pretty partial to the way he looks now. Posters paper the wall, a testament to the rodeos he’d attended, rode in, and won at. He’s even got a few quotes scattered about by famous bull riders and boxers. Like he’d read them, felt inspired, and taped them on his wall as reminders.

Crawling up on the bed, I pull my legs in and prop my phone on my knees, considering who to call. I’d called my parents on Thanksgiving, so that obligation had been fulfilled. Maggie and I had even had a chance to catch up when I snatched Pete’s phone from him yesterday, and monopolized her for a good fifteen minutes. I can’t think of anyone else to call, so I unlock my phone and fiddle with some new apps for a few minutes before giving up on that too.

Scrolling through my contacts reminds me how many friends I’d gained since coming to college. I laugh out loud when I get to Austin’s contact info—
Massive Cock
. After he’d updated his nickname in my phone, he’d sent me a selfie in the black t-shirt that prompted his self-appointed nickname. The word
MASSIVE
sits prominently above the silhouette of a huge rooster. Rolling my eyes at him, I resume my scrolling. When I reach Greer’s info, I pause. I hadn’t had the heart to change his nickname in my phone even though he’s not
My Golden Boy
anymore. I had also failed to update the photo I’d taken last summer by the creek. God, I’d thought things were a mess back then. Little did I know that it would go from bad to worse, and even though there are moments when I miss the cloud of oblivion I used to live under, I would be an idiot to ignore how much better my life is now.

It’s on that thought, I hear the front door open and some light footsteps. Figuring Ransom had returned, I give him a few minutes to talk to his mom before I put my phone away and head down the hall to join him. I hope I’ve waited the appropriate amount of time so that I don’t look like the desperate girlfriend making sure she hasn’t lost her boyfriend. Thinking about that makes me realize I didn’t even torture myself with thoughts of Ransom and Victoria together. Wow! I’m becoming well-fucking-adjusted, if I do say so myself.

I round the corner that separates the hallway from the living room and freeze in my tracks. My eyes go wide, and my mouth drops open. By sheer miracle alone, I manage not make a fuss over the scene before me. I mean, I don’t know if it’s a bad or a good thing, or how will Ransom will feel about it, but I’ll be damned if Karen isn’t being subjected to one helluva kiss from none other than Edwin, her former boss and Victoria’s father.

As soon as I recover from my shock, I ease back into the hallway and turn to give them some privacy, but Karen’s gasp, and plea for Edwin to cease and desist, have me frozen again. Should I intervene? Is she not on board with this? Because the way she was wrapped around him told me she had no objections.

“I’ve told you,” he says. “Every month until you come back to me, I’m coming to get my kiss on our anniversary.”

“And I’ve told you, Edwin, we don’t have an anniversary,” Karen states without any signs of resentment. “More than that, we don’t have a relationship, and you can’t just keep coming here and kissing me whenever you feel like it.”

“Have you noticed that on the twenty-eighth of every month, you let me in for a visit, and we make small talk until you’re leaning toward me and practically begging me to kiss you?” She gives a little snort of indignation, but that doesn’t slow him down. “And I will, my darling, visit you each month, until you come back to me. We’re up to exactly eighteen kisses, and lucky for you, I am a patient man, Karen. I can’t fathom what you are waiting for, or why you keep denying what we are to each other, but I’ll be here when you figure it out,” Edwin promises. “
Ich liebe dich
,” he adds, before I hear the telltale sounds of another kiss. And, since I’m a sucker for languages, I know just enough to understand he’s just told her,
I love you,
in German.

I don’t catch Karen’s whispered reply. But when Edwin replies with, “
In der Liebe und im Krieg ist alles erlaubt.
” I can’t even imagine how Karen holds out on him, because that’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard. I mean, I’m clueless to what he’s just said. He could have told her that he’d left his socks here on his last visit, but either way it just
sounded
romantic.

A quiet click of the front door has me turning around and slumping against the wall, trying to understand why on earth she would refuse him. I’d had several short visits with him over the last week, and had gotten good vibes from him. So good, in fact, I thought maybe his daughter would actually be cool about the new girlfriend. Even Ransom speaks highly of him, and that’s high praise—

“Denver?” Karen questions. I nearly come out of my skin because I hadn’t heard her approach, and I know my guilt is written all over my face.

“I’m so sorry, Karen. I didn’t mean to spy on you. I was actually walking away until I heard you tell him to stop, and then I wanted to make sure you didn’t need me.” All of that comes out in one breath, so I’m practically panting by the time I finish. I will absolutely die if I make this wonderful person despise me.

She just gives me a sad smile, which is no help whatsoever, and I just want to beg her to say something. Tears well in her soft, brown eyes, so I do what I know I’m supposed to, even though it’s not an easy thing for me. I lean in to offer a hug, and she envelopes me quickly. And … it’s really,
really
awkward. I guess that’s kind of a good thing, because she knows it and starts laughing uncontrollably. Well, I’ve cheered her up at least.

“Denver,” she wheezes. “You poor baby, it’s just a hug.” She pats me on the back and pushes me away, gently squeezing my arms before letting her hands fall.

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I know,” I stammer. I can’t even meet her eyes.
So pathetic
. “I’m just not used to them.” And then I manage to make things about a billion times more awkward by adding, “I mean, I hug my friends these days, so there’s that, but I guess I’m still not used to hugging adults. Yeah, there was Ms. Louise, our housekeeper, but we didn’t hug. She would let me kiss her on the cheek sometimes. That was probably only like a dozen times, though, and it was usually a result of me trying to get out of some kind of trouble. Anyway, that’s all. I’ll just wait for Ransom in his room.” And on that spectacular display of verbal diarrhea, and Karen’s resulting
what-in-the-world
face, I spin around and resign myself to Ransom’s room.

Even though I’ve buried my nose in my e-reader, I can’t help but be grateful Karen didn’t follow me in here and make me talk about my lack of adult affection. She probably thinks I was raised by wolves or something. Well, if the shoe fits. I really didn’t even realize it was something I needed to work on until I felt her arms go around me and I almost had a panic attack. Had no other adult in my life ever tried to hug me? I mean, wouldn’t I have missed the lack of oxygen going to my brain and other extremities if
that
had happened in the past? Had my mother and father
really
never hugged me? I close my eyes tightly and try to picture the last time either of them had even touched me.