Stirred (21 page)

My body quivered for a moment before melting into his, reveling in the dense feel of his muscles beneath my fingers. I couldn’t help my hands from sliding across his wide shoulders and down his well-defined arms, then brushing the chiseled dunes of his broad chest and sculpted abs. God, he was so perfect. Tall and wide at the shoulders, but long and lean at the waist, not one ounce of extra flesh on his masterfully-conditioned body.

I recalled his Twitter profile, that he was a tri-athlete who ran, biked, and swam competitively. I’d never seen him without his clothes on, but, with my hands skimming over him, I imagined what he must look like beneath his jeans and Henley as they strained over defined muscle. Just the thought made my knees buckle.

Luckily, Sean tightened his hold and pulled me back up, asking, “You all right?” as he set me on my feet.

“Yes, I’m…I’m fine, thank you,” I said and fanned the heat from my face. “But if we don’t get out of here soon, I might be tempted to break my own vow to move slowly.”

Sean raised his brow and said, “I wouldn’t mind that one bit.” But when I gave him my
no-way
look, he held up his hands and added, “All right, I’m cool.” With one last peck on the cheek, he dropped his arms and took a step back. “Grab a jacket, and let’s get the hell outta here.” 

I recalled that night in Ballard, when he last spoke those words to me, and my heart skipped a beat before trotting into a full-on gallop, because no matter how hard I tried to remain steadfast in my pledge, I couldn’t help but hope this day together took the same turn as the last.

“
That’s
your car?” Eden asked, her brow high and her mouth wide as she gaped at my Aston Martin parked in her driveway. “Wow!” she said when I nodded. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” I replied, and her face scrunched in confusion. “Don’t get me wrong. I love it. It’s totally badass, but…it’s not like I earned it or anything. I’m a trust fund kid, Eden. Spoiled by definition.”

She chuckled. “Seriously, Sean, I never would’ve guessed. You certainly don’t act spoiled, not like the brats around here.”

I smiled and bowed my head. “What can I say? I’m a work in progress.” I opened the passenger-side door and helped Eden down into the low-slung seat then jumped behind the steering wheel.

“So where do you live?” she asked as she buckled her seatbelt. “I assume not with your mom here in Medina.”

“No, I recently bought a condo at Bellevue Towers.” I started the car and pulled out.

Again, her brow rose. “Whoa, that’s a pretty upscale address,” she commented. “Dare I ask which floor?”

I kept my gaze on the road ahead and answered, “Forty-one.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her chin drop. “Really,” she said, more a statement than a question. “Those run like, what? Two, three million?” she asked, and I nodded. “Okay, trust fund aside, that’s a lot of frickin’ money, Sean.”

“Yeah, well, it’s more than just the trust fund. I received a generous settlement from the lawsuit my father filed against Hayley’s parents after the…accident or…whatever. They’re well-off, and their insurance paid out big. Robbie got the majority, enough to take care of his needs and live very comfortably for the rest of his life, though I’m gonna work on him, get him to attend law school. Then maybe we can partner our own firm together someday.” I turned to look at Eden.

She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “I really enjoy hearing about you, your life, your family,” she said then launched one question after another, asking about my childhood, my parents and stepparents, as well as my friends, both in the past, but especially now.

I couldn’t help but think of Trinitee, even though I wasn’t sure where we stood anymore. She
was
still my friend.

“Tell me about her?” Eden said with a slight edge to her voice.

I peeked over at her and wondered if that was jealousy I heard. The thought made me smirk with pride, though I kept it to myself.

“Trinitee’s like me in some ways. She’s studying law, and she’s a trust fund kid, like me. But hers was very hard-earned.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Eden asked.

“Trin was abandoned and spent her first five years in an orphanage.”

Eden’s brow tensed. “Is that what she called it, an orphanage?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Because they aren’t called orphanages anymore, not with all the lore surrounding them back when kids were dumped and stored until they aged out.”

“Well, this was twenty years ago, so…” I shrugged. “What’re they called now, anyway?”

“Most commonly? REFs—residential education facilities. However, most kids land in the foster care system and are placed in a residence, though they do tend to average around eight or nine homes before they’re adopted or turn eighteen.”

“Yeah, but that’s here in the US. Trinitee was in a Mexican orphanage.”

“Mexico? Then how did she end up here in the US?” Eden wondered.

“She was pretty lucky, actually, at least at first. When she was five or so, she was adopted by a wealthy couple, and, from what Trin remembers, they were very loving, affectionate people. The way she told it, they were pretty desperate to adopt and too impatient to wait out the typical two to three years it took to adopt in the US. And China and Russia, the most common places for out-of-country adoptions, had both changed their policies after several high-profile abandonment cases here. So they went to Mexico instead, where, apparently, there were a plethora of unwanted children. I’m sure Trin stood out like a sore thumb.”

“Why, what do you mean?” Eden asked.

“With her pale skin and silvery lavender eyes?” I shook my head. “No way she
wouldn’t
stand out among all those tan-skinned kids with their sad brown eyes. Trin later found out her parents flew her into the US illegally, that her documents were forged. Then, unfortunately, a few years later, they were killed in a small plane crash. Trin was about eight or nine, I think.

“After that, she went to live with her adoptive father’s brother and his wife. She said they were good to her, as well, but their son, Frankie, was a sick bastard who abused her until she was fourteen. That’s when his mother walked in on him molesting her. But instead of doing the right thing, Frankie’s parents just sent him away to boarding school, so he was never held accountable. Apparently, Trin—finally free to speak her mind—objected rather loudly to that. But with their son at risk, they turned around and threatened to send her back to where she came from.

“That’s when Trinitee learned about Mexico and the possibility she could be deported, and to a country where she didn’t even speak the language. So she remained quiet, kept her head down, and excelled in school. She just wanted to get the hell outta there, and she did, too. Graduated high school early then went to the U-Dub on full-ride merit. Oddly enough, her guardians were killed in a home invasion robbery up in Magnolia. Since then, she’s had to deal with their asshole son through probate, and still does since he controls all their assets and accounts, including Trin’s trust fund. But she’s one tough bitch, the smartest person I’ve ever met, so she’s been able to handle him so far. And she’ll have control when she turns twenty-one next year.”

“You two must be very close for her to share all that with you,” Eden said.

I shrugged. “Yeah, normally she probably wouldn’t have, but…she got a little drunker than usual one night and…out it all came. But I think she felt relieved to finally get it off her chest, share it with someone, even though she never brought it up again.”

“Why didn’t she file charges against her guardians’ son after they died?”

“Well, the statute of limitations on sexual abuse here in Washington is extraordinarily complex. She was fourteen when the abuse was discovered and never reported it within the required year after that.”

Eden’s mouth dropped open.

I glanced at her and shrugged again. “It’s fucked up, I know, and Trin’s never been happy about it, but, knowing her, I have no doubt karma will come calling on that tool’s ass pretty damn soon.”

Eden chuckled then asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Because Trin’s a little vindictive when it comes to people screwing her over. I’m sure she’ll find proof of some other felony Frankie Morro’s committed and will move heaven and earth to see him held accountable, for that at least.”

Eden frowned, her eyes strangely melancholy considering she’d never met Trinitee. “What a sad story,” she said. “I feel so badly for her, to lose her adoptive parents then live the hell she did for all those years.”

I nodded, and Eden turned to stare out the passenger window.

She was quiet for a solid minute, swimming in her own thoughts, her jaw ticcing away as she shook her head almost imperceptibly. “As a parent, I can’t imagine abandoning a child like that, throwing her away like trash. That’s so awful.” Eden turned to face me. “I gather she never looked for them, huh?”

“I don’t think so. Why would she, you know?”

Eden nodded, her eyes far away. She turned away again and resumed staring out the window as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

I stroked her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She nodded again and brushed her hand against her cheek then presented me with a strained smile. Her eyes flitted around, and she finally asked, “Where in the world are you taking me anyway?”

I pointed to a huge sign up ahead as we rolled to a stop at Tolt Hill Road and Highway 203 in Carnation. “Remlinger Farms,” I said. “Ever been here?”

She breathed in a soft gasp. “No! But I’ve always wanted to take the kids on a field trip here.”

“You’ll love it, and the kids would have the time of their lives. I guarantee it,” I explained as we crossed the highway onto a long, narrow drive lined with a freshly painted, white split-rail fence.

A mature, tree-filled wetland bordered the left side, and on the right were verdant pastures populated with brown and white horses, munching away on the thick green grass. We crept behind a line of cars all waiting to get in, each filled with kids of various size. It was the end of the high season, the last weekend of the Fall Harvest Festival. A wide variety of scarecrows were on display, hanging from the trees and along the fence as we approached the barn, market, and park. The paved lots were full, so I pulled into a grassy meadow adjacent to the U-pick pumpkin patch, where families and kids of every age ran about, pondering over hundreds of the orange-colored gourds.

From there, I escorted Eden into the County Fair Fun Park, and while it was geared especially for children, I took her on a couple of the attractions where adults were allowed—the train and the antique cars—where we enjoyed the rides as much as the little kids, each of us laughing and pointing at interesting things as we passed by. Afterwards, we hit up the 4-H barnyard. We petted and fed an assortment of animals: goats, sheep, horses, pigs, cows, and even an alpaca. Eden loved snuggling with the bunnies, and showed off her extraordinary braying skills as she whinnied and neighed at the stubborn donkeys who eventually answered her in kind.

Next, we watched the kids dart around the hay maze and hop into the straw pit, all the while wishing we were young enough to experience it ourselves. Before I took her to our next destination, we swung into the farmer’s market, where an abundance of local fruits and vegetables were on display alongside ready-to-bake pies and canned goods, local wines and hand-made cheeses, plus homemade gifts and crafts. We even caught a quick lunch at the Country Kitchen Restaurant, where dozens of kids chased each other around the tables.

“That’s one thing I wish Robbie could do,” I mentioned with a hint of sadness. “Run around and chase his friends.”

Eden placed her hand along my forearm. “Oh, I assure you, your brother does that very thing at school, and, in his smaller chair your mom keeps on the premises, he’s much faster than the other kids and usually wins.”

I raised my brow. That was news to me. Even after Eden had chastised me that day at her school, I continued to think of Robbie as handicapped beyond his disability. Eden was forcing me to see the truth, that while Robbie was different from all the other kids, he wasn’t any less. It in no way absolved me, of course, but it did ease my guilt a little, and I was grateful to Eden for that. So I leaned in and placed a soft kiss against her cheek, smiling over the tight lump in my throat.