Truly Mine (12 page)

“Oh…wow. Am I that bad?”

She looked mortified. “What? No! I’m sorry.” She tipped her face toward the sky and laughed. “I should go before they leave me.” Still smiling, she walked backward up the path. “See ya.”

“Wait.” I caught up to her. “It’s only ten. Why are you leaving so early?”

“I told you already,” she replied.

“No, that’s not the truth. I said I would take you home,” I argued.

Someone yelled from the top of the path, “Truly, are you coming?”

She stared into my eyes.

After a few seconds passed and she didn’t answer, I took it upon myself to answer for her, “No, she’s not.”

Thankfully, her smile met mine. She took a clumsy step toward me, and I walked beside her, back to the bonfire.

For the next few hours, we sat on the tailgate of my truck in front of the fire. I took advantage of every opportunity I could to touch her with subtle touches. My fingers brushed hers. I bumped her shoulder with mine. I laid my leg against hers. The more contact, the more she warmed up to me. We laughed and talked about school and people until everyone left, and it was just the two of us. Then, she was shy again.

“You good?” I whispered.

“Mmhmm.”

I jumped off the truck and stood in front of her. “Don’t get all bashful on me now.” I placed my hands on each of her knees and pushed them apart. I moved myself between them, slid my hands up to her hips, and then pulled her close. Dropping my lips to hers, I whispered against them, “Do you want me to take you home now?”

She pressed her lips to mine.

Everything after that happened in slow motion. I’d never done it like this. Every kiss was intense, and every touch was deliberate. I had to pull away and breathe deep a few times to calm myself. As torturous as it felt, I let her set the pace. I didn’t want her to tell me to stop.

She held my face when I kissed her lips, and her fingers slowly found their way through my hair. I kissed my way to her neck. She moaned in appreciation. When I slid her shirt up, she watched me as I looked at her beautiful body. All signs of that shy girl were gone.

“Beautiful,” I declared.

With that, she unclasped her bra and slid her arms out, letting it fall to her lap. She grabbed my shirt to pull me close and then lifted my shirt up and over my head. I was a little taken aback. She was more than not shy now. I had been sure she was inexperienced, but she was now making me feel like the inexperienced one.

She leaned forward and kissed my chest, her tongue drifting across my skin. I felt something I’d never taken enough time to feel. While it was unbelievably good, it was also the most painful feeling deep in my stomach. I worked hard to calm myself, so this would last as long as possible.

We kissed and touched every inch of each other’s bodies before she wrapped her legs around my waist, and we had the best sex I’d ever had. Even before we finished, I couldn’t wait until the next time I saw Truly.

For the next two years, I’d made every excuse I could to see Truly. And we saw each other a hell of a lot.

It’s three in the morning, and I’m awake again. I haven’t slept for more than a few hours at a time. I’m dreaming of her. Having something of hers in my house that I can touch and, in this case, smell is driving me crazy.

I make it into the office much later in the day than I have ever before.

Once I gave up on sleep, I sat around in a stupor for hours before taking my time in getting Truly’s case file together. I’m going over everything in the file a second time so that I can sign off on this case and everything that has to do with Truly Rowan.

I slap Truly’s file on Dara’s desk. “This guy has no case.”

She huffs and glares at me as I’ve startled her.

“He does check out as Truly’s stepfather’s son, but his last name isn’t even the same as his dad’s. He never had his father’s last name.” I drop into the chair across from her desk and continue, “Walter faithfully paid child support but never wrote Rodney into his will. When Walter died, all his money went to Truly’s mother, and when she died, it went to her only child. Truly is the sole beneficiary of her mother’s estate, which happens to include Rodney’s father’s fortune. Rodney’s not entitled to a dime of his father’s estate.”

I have Dara’s full attention with this news. She might even look pleased.

“Good.”

She has no idea just how good it is for me. “So, case closed.” I stand and walk over to the window in her office. I look out at the grassy field across the street. “What’s next?”

The sound of a folder smacking her desk causes me to turn around. “Something you’re going to love, so much so that I wish I had someone else to give it to,” she sneers.

I smirk and slowly shake my head. “That’s so nice of you, Dara.” I walk to her desk and open the file. Then, I drop into the chair.
No. No.
This cannot be.

I look up at Dara as she’s scribbling on a sticky note. She hands it to me and realizes from the look on my face that this assignment does not make me happy at all.

“What’s the matter? New York is not your idea of a good time?”

After a long silence, I find the strength to speak, “I just want to be done dealing with Truly.” I scrub my hands over my face. “Can’t you mail these documents to her and have her sign it with a notary?”

She’s quick to answer, “No, Tyler. I want her signature on these documents—and yesterday. You will have to deal with her for an hour. You can do whatever you want the rest of your time there. Go visit Rion at school.”

“Please just mail them, Dara,” I beg.

“I’m not mailing them. You are a notary, and I know these documents are safe with you. She has verbally committed to donating a very large amount of money to Fallport, Tyler. This town and the people here would benefit from this case being handled quickly.” As she stands and walks out of her office, she finishes her orders, “Her number is on that sticky note. Call her, and set it up.”

Fuck!

“And, Tyler, go see Dad,” she adds.

Double fuck.

For two days now, I’ve sat on this file.

Today, Dara finally realized that I haven’t contacted Truly or gone to see our father. After a good ass-chewing from her, I’ve agreed to stop by my parents’ house.

These visits are becoming unbearable. My father is immediately aggravated at the mere sight of me in his home. He has no clue who I am. The final stage of Alzheimer’s has robbed our family of its leader. It’s unbearable to watch.

I shove my anger down as I walk into what used to be Dara’s childhood bedroom. It’s been transformed into the room my father will die in.

I hate everything about this visit. My mother isn’t even able to comfort either of us because my father becomes violently angry if anyone is near her. He might not remember his children or grandchild, but at least he remembers her. And he thinks he must protect her from everyone.

This disease is a bastard. I’m looking at a stranger who won’t look at or speak to me. Why Dara thinks it’s important for me to do this is beyond me. It doesn’t make me or my father feel better.

“Hey, Dad.” I reach out and lay my hand near my father, but I don’t touch him.

He turns his head away from me and stares blankly out the window. I miss the strong and vibrant man my father was last year.

“Everything is good at the office. You’d be proud of us.” I’m not very good at one-way communication. It feels like a waste of breath.

I sit in the rocking chair next to my father’s bed for half an hour longer. Staring out the window just like my father is, I wonder where we’ll be this time next year. I wonder if Dad will make it through the holidays and how my mom will cope when he’s gone. I’m impressed by how she has been handling this whole thing. She’s a rock, always finding the good in everything—even with slowly losing her husband. I wonder if she is just being strong for everyone else.

After a brief conversation with my mom, I leave with all intentions of calling Truly.

But I stop at the bar.

And I never get around to calling her.

I did however attempt to get her out of the space she had been occupying in my mind. I just made my life more difficult in the process. I gave in to Katie. I was drunk, and I wanted Truly to get the fuck out of my pounding head.

Just like she did every Friday night, Katie came into the bar and sweet-talked me. Only this Friday night, I had gone through a week without any attention from a woman, a week of barely leaving my house, and worst of all, a week of smelling a woman who wasn’t there.

When I did my laundry, I’d smell Truly because Rion had left his dirty clothes in the laundry room—the clothes he’d sprayed with Truly’s perfume. Every time I walked past his bedroom, I’d smell her because he’d sprayed his damn bed. She was not only in my head, but also in my house.

I only wanted someone to write over my memories of my night with her. Katie had made promises for years to rock my world in bed. I was weak and gave in. It was one big mistake.

I realized quickly that I didn’t want her at my house. I should have stopped. If I didn’t want a memory of her in my house, I should have just ended it there. That had never been a problem for me. I’d taken many girls home. I’d slept with quite a few in my own bed, on my couch, and on my floor, and it’d never been an issue. But I didn’t want Katie in my bed. I didn’t want another woman in my bed at all. I didn’t want to rewrite my memory with Truly after all.

I didn’t feel the usual fire or excitement with Katie. I’d felt more chemistry with strangers. She tried too hard to impress me or something. Nothing felt natural like it had with Truly. I guessed what really happened the entire time was, I compared Katie to Truly. And she suffered miserably by comparison. She didn’t have Truly’s big eyes and sweet smile. Her skin didn’t feel like Truly’s silky soft skin. Truly’s raspy moans and giggles were missing, and Katie’s exaggerated porn-star moans did nothing but make it difficult to get hard enough to even go through with it. And she certainly didn’t smell like Truly’s Chanel No. 5. She just wasn’t Truly.

The only thing that came of the whole night was another damn mess. Now, in addition to Truly, I have to deal with Katie.

Great job, Tyler.

I’m sitting with my phone in hand, Truly’s number typed in, and my finger over the Send key. I take a deep breath and hit Send. It rings and rings until I’m forwarded to her voice mail.

“Hi, Truly. This is Tyler Burke. I’m calling in regard to your mother’s estate. Dara would like me to hand-deliver several documents that require your signature. If you could return my call, I would appreciate it. Talk to you soon.” I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m glad she didn’t answer.

I no sooner start to relax when my phone rings. It’s Truly.

I clear my throat and answer, “Hello?” I lean back in my office chair and prepare myself for the punch in the chest that I know her voice will be.

“Hi, Tyler.”

Yes, that voice. That sweet sultry voice that said my name while I was between her legs, while I took her on my bed.