Pretty Pink Ribbons (21 page)

I want the wall. I want the wedding photo and pictures of my kids and grandkids. My hands tremble at the thought that I might never have all this. But I want it . . . and I want it with Levi.

“He’s very handsome,” I say, swallowing past the lump that has settled in my throat.

“Much like your fella over there,” she says, motioning toward the Senior Center.

“He’s not mine.” I shake my head, wishing that it were true. “We’re just friends.”

“Nonsense,” she scoffs. “I see the way he looks at you. That’s the look of love.” I open my mouth to insist that she’s wrong, but she keeps talking. “Why don’t you put that bowl in the refrigerator?” She points to the kitchen yet again and I follow her directions, taking note of the empty bottle of cough syrup on her counter. Sliding the spaghetti inside the fridge, I also notice the lack of food on the shelves.

When I walk back into the living room, Mary has her head tilted back on the couch and her eyes are bobbing heavily. I’m sure it’s quite a feat for her to make that little walk every day. She looks too tiny and frail, and I imagine that it wears her out.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mary,” I say, probably a little too loud because I never know if older people can hear or not.

“You, too. What was your name again? I don’t think I caught it.”

“It’s Laney.” I offer her my hand, but instead she pushes up from the couch and wraps me in a hug.

“Thank you, Laney. It was a pleasure meeting you as well. Now you get back to that hunky man of yours.” She winks and drops back to the couch.

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, wanting nothing more than to get back to that ‘hunky man’—mine or otherwise—and thank him for this amazing day. He gave something back to me that I love and something I’ve missed, and for that I’m extremely grateful.

I’M ABOUT TWO SECONDS from walking over there and seeing what in the hell is taking so damn long. Laney has been in that house for ten minutes and now I’m feeling like I shouldn’t have let her go alone. We don’t know this woman, and for all I know she could have some psycho grandson living there. Mind made up, I jump from my truck and make my way across the road. Just as my feet hit the front porch, Laney comes barreling out of the door and straight into my arms.

“Are you okay?” Gripping her shoulders, I pull her back to inspect her body, needing to make sure she’s alright.

“I’m fine.” She swats away my wandering hands and throws herself back into my arms. “I want a wall.”

“You what?”

“I want a wall of my life,” she mumbles into my chest.

“Laney, you’re not making sense.” She unravels her arms from around my neck and takes my hand in hers, which is cold despite the warm weather. I bring her hand to my mouth, cupping it so that I can blow hot air over her fingers to warm them up.

“She has a wall full of photos. Everything from her wedding day to the day each of her kids were born to her grandkids’ soccer games. I want that.” Her eyes are misty and I can tell that this really matters to her.

“You’ll have that. Why is this bothering you?” I ask, dropping her hand so I can warm up the other one.

“You don’t know that I’ll have that. It’s not guaranteed. I’m almost thirty, Levi.” Her words are frantic and I can’t help but laugh. She’s worrying about things she shouldn’t be worrying about.

“Laney, I know it’s not guaranteed, but you can’t think like that. Anyone could die at any time from anything and lose out on a lifetime full of happy memories. But you can’t live your life worrying.” She takes a deep breath and nods. “You will have all of those things. I just know it.”

“Thanks,” she says, straightening her back and shoulders as though pulling herself back together. She looks at her hand that’s cupped against my mouth, and she furrows her brow as though she didn’t even realize it was there. “What are you doing?”

“Your hands are freezing. Which is totally odd, by the way, considering it’s nearly eighty degrees.”

“Hmmm. I didn’t notice.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Keeping her hand locked in mine, we walk to the end of the sidewalk, looking both ways before running across the road.

“Can we stop somewhere before you take me home?”

“Sure.” I open the passenger door and help her in before climbing in myself. “Where do you need to go?” I crank the key in the ignition and put the truck in drive.

“Just the grocery store down the road. I won’t be long.” I’m already pulling out of the parking lot by the time she finishes what she’s saying. I drive the three blocks to the closest market, and we both hop out of the truck when we arrive. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I know I don’t,” I say with a shrug. But I want to. There was something about watching her today that I found extremely sexy. It wasn’t like at work where she is doing a job. No, today I could tell that she was doing something she loved. Her happiness shone through with every meal that she served, and it amazed me how she took the time to talk with nearly every single person there.

We walk into the grocery store and she snags a cart before taking off through the store like she’s a woman on a mission. She grabs a few gallons of milk, some orange juice, canned soup, canned vegetables and enough frozen meals to feed a grown man for a year. “You do realize you’re a chef, right?”

“Yes,” she laughs. She pushes up on her toes to reach for a bag of chips and her shirt rides up, exposing the curve of her waist. Her skin looks silky smooth and my cock stirs. Just thinking about her tight body writhing under me is enough to get me rock fucking solid. I’ve touched a lot of women over the years—women of all shapes and sizes—but no one’s body has ever compared to Laney’s. And as much as I’ve tried over the years, I have never been able to forget the way she felt under the palm of my hand.

“Can you reach that?” She whips around to look at me, and I clear my throat and step forward, hoping to God she doesn’t see my dick throbbing against my jeans.

“Umm . . . sure,” I stutter, mentally bitch-slapping myself for nearly getting caught ogling her—again. Flinging the bag of chips in the cart, I take the handle and follow her through the aisles. She throws in a box of granola bars and a couple boxes of cereal and then makes her way over to the medicine section, tossing in a box of cough syrup before telling me she’s ready to go. We head to the front of the store and get everything loaded on the conveyer belt. “Mind if I throw in some gum?”

“Not at all.” She stretches across the cart, grabbing a pack of my favorite cinnamon gum and throwing it in with the rest of the food.

“You remember that?”

She looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Of course I remember. It’s ingrained in my senses.” A look of determination falls across her face. “I’ve thought about that taste—your taste—for years.”

My throat grows thick with emotion. Laney is staring at me, her heart one hundred percent on her sleeve, and I have absolutely no words for her.

“That’ll be seventy-six dollars and thirty-one cents.” Laney blinks and twists to face the cashier. Digging in her purse, she pulls out a credit card and slides it through the machine.

“That can’t be right,” she mumbles, sliding it again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you have a different card you could try, ma’am?” the cashier asks, glancing at the growing line behind us. Laney swipes her card one last time and I lean forward to look at the screen. DECLINED. As Laney scrambles through her purse, I remember her making a comment at Blue that one night about how she couldn’t afford the wine because it was too expensive. Has she gotten herself into credit card debt? The thought that she could be struggling tugs at my heart. I whip my wallet out and slide my card through the reader before she’s able to find another form of payment.

“Levi,” she scolds. “You didn’t have to do that. I have another card. This has to be a mistake. There is no way my card could be declined.” She looks away sheepishly.

I’ve got to find out what’s going on with her.

“It’s not a big deal,” I tell her as she loads up the cart with our bags of food. We walk out to the truck and she doesn’t say a word. I almost feel guilty for embarrassing her, but that wasn’t my intention. I just hated that look on her face and wanted to step in and help.

She climbs in the truck before I can assist her and when I slide behind the wheel, she has her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Laney,” I turn toward her, propping my leg up on the seat. “I’m not worried about you paying me back. But I’m not going to lie, I am concerned about you. Is everything okay?”

She takes a deep breath and looks up. I can’t tell if she’s trying to fight back tears or gain some strength or maybe a little bit of both. For a split second, I get the feeling that she’s keeping something from me—something big—and my stomach sinks. But then she swallows hard, runs a hand over her face and smiles. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake. I’ll call tomorrow and get it straightened out.”

I should push her, but right now she looks stressed out and I’m a little terrified at what a push would do. So I bite my tongue and vow to revisit this later.

“Alright. Back to your house?”

“Oh, no. I’m taking these to Mary.” The weight of her words slams into me. Just the thought of her not having enough money for herself, and yet she’s willing to spend whatever she does have on someone else who needs it more? I’m completely floored. Laney has always been extremely giving; I think I just forgot that about her for a little while.

“You got all of this for Mary?” I question, needing to make sure I heard her right. “Or just some of it?”

“All of it.” Her eyes are wide with concern. “Her refrigerator was bare, Levi. She had nothing. I think she might be living off the meals she gets at the Senior Center.”

Everything inside of me shifts. I feel as though I’d been teetering on the edge of my feelings for Laney and this just tips me over.

“You’re doing a really great thing, Lane. You’re going to make her day.” Signaling a right-hand turn, I pull out onto the road and make the three-block trip back to Mary’s house. “I’ll help you carry everything.” We hop from the truck, gather all of the groceries and walk to the front door.

“I hope she’s still up. She looked like she was about to fall asleep earlier,” Laney says, pounding on the door. Within minutes, it’s being pulled open. At first Mary looks at us, trying to figure out why we’re here, and then she looks down and sees all of the bags we’re carrying. “Can we come in Mary?”

The frail woman nods her head and steps back to let us pass. Laney walks right into the kitchen and starts unloading bags like she owns the place. When we get everything put away, we both turn back toward the living room but find Mary standing in the doorway. She doesn’t say a word; she just walks right into Laney’s arms and holds her like she hasn’t been held in years. Laney looks at me with eyebrows raised and I just smile. Mary pulls back, wipes the wetness from under her eyes and squeezes Laney’s hand.

“Thank you,” Mary whispers with a watery voice. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.” I watch as Laney’s bottom lip trembles. Tears build up in her eyes and she swallows hard.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mary. Trust me, it was my pleasure.” And apparently, that’s all it takes. My heart explodes inside my chest and suddenly the only thing I need is to get her alone.

“Laney,” I interrupt with a hand on her shoulder. “We should probably get going.” She looks at me and nods and then gives Mary one last quick hug. Mary walks us to the door, thanks us again and shuts it softly behind us.

Laney bounces excitedly down the sidewalk and I follow her to my truck. “Wasn’t that fantastic? Did you see her face, Levi?” she asks, flinging open the door. “That was probably one of—”

Stepping up behind her, I push the door shut, spin her around and press her back against my truck. My hands cup her face, and my mouth on hers stops everything. Her words melt away as her lips mold to mine, and all of the regret and pain I’ve been holding onto dissipate as I lose myself in this kiss. Her hands find their way to my hair and she grips it tightly, pulling me to her. My tongue pushes into her mouth and she opens for me instantly. At first I kiss her hard and rough, my mouth desperate to get as close to her as it can possibly get. Her lithe body rubs against mine and, in turn, my body hums with approval. She’s trembling beneath me and I pull back, resting my forehead against hers, both of us panting and out of breath.