Beauty From Pain (Beauty 1)

He kisses the top of my head. “Don’t know it, but you can thank me every time you catch yourself singing it.”

He’s wearing a suit today. Damn, he’s hot in it—scorching hot. He’s standing over me and I grab the lapels of his jacket to pull him down for a kiss. The peck he gave me on top of my head wasn’t near enough to do me all day. When I let him go, I tell him, “That’s your incentive to work fast so you can leave early and come back to me.”

I spend the day reading on the beach, not swimming in the water, although it’s hot as hell. It’s midafternoon and I decide to take a break from the sweltering heat, so I go into the house for a snack and some air conditioning.

I’m sitting at the dining room table having some leftover fruit from my birthday breakfast when my personal phone rings. It’s my mom, no doubt calling to wish me a happy birthday.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Happy birthday, baby girl.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you having a good one?”

“The best.” And it is. I’m staying at a house on a private beach in New Zealand with a beautiful man I can’t get enough of. Nothing beats this.

“Well, I’ve got some news that’s going to make it even better.”

Her idea of good news and my idea aren’t always the same. “What is it?”

“It’s your dad. He came to see me, baby. He wants to meet you.”

This is a perfect example of when our ideas of good news are on two different spectrums. “Why?”

“Because you’re his daughter.”

I would’ve given anything to hear those words when I was a child. All I wanted was for my rich and famous father to rescue me from her when I was surviving off tap water and moldy bread because she was too strung out to go to the grocery store. I prayed he’d come and save me, but he didn’t. “He hasn’t wanted me as his daughter for twenty-three years, and he doesn’t get to change his mind now because the only child he claimed is dead.”

“It’s not like that, Laurie.”

“It is like that, Mom. I’ve been his dirty little secret all these years. At least have the balls to be honest about it.” I don’t know the exact moment the tears start, but I can’t stop them once they begin. The more I try to hold them in, the harder they come. “He’s pretended I didn’t exist my whole life and the only reason he wants me now is because he has no other children left.”

I’m shocked to feel warm arms around me as Lachlan takes the phone from my hand. When did he get back? “I’m sorry. Laurelyn will have to call you back later.”

He hangs up on my mother and silences the ringer before he tosses the phone to the couch. He wraps his arms around me and I melt into him. He doesn’t ask what she’s said to upset me, but I think he has a good idea if he heard any part of our conversation.

This is another one of those moments like the morning I almost left him. He holds me and his embrace speaks without saying a word.

36

Jack McLachlan

I’m pissed off because Laurelyn’s mother would call and upset her this way, especially on her birthday. This isn’t improving my opinion of her at all. She’s a selfish, immature woman.

I don’t understand her thought process behind her decision to tell Laurelyn this news about her father on her birthday. She knew it would upset her. Even I know that. I want to be a total caveman and slam the thing against the wall so Laurelyn’s mother can never call her on it again, but I can’t.

Maybe I don’t understand because it’s a mother/daughter thing, but something feels off to me about their relationship.

I rub circles on her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I feel her head oscillating from side to side, telling me no. I kiss the top of her head and pull her to the couch. I’m still in my suit so I take off my jacket and toss it across the chair. I sit on the couch and pat the cushion between my legs. “Come sit with me.”

She sits and leans against my chest. She’s wearing a black string bikini I’ve never seen and she smells like coconut and sweat from being in the sun. I’m twitching in my pants because she’s so close. I can’t help it. Whoa, settle down, boy … now’s not the right time.

Laurelyn can be difficult to read at times, but she’s hurting and I want to give her the support she deserves. She damn sure doesn’t get it from anyone else in her life. I think simply holding her is what she wants, so that’s what I do. I’m content to sit here with her for as long as she needs me.

We sit together like that for at least a half hour before she stops crying and says anything. She lifts her face to see me over her shoulder. “You came back early.”

“Of course I did. I want to be with the birthday girl on her special day.”

She reaches for my hand and laces her fingers through it. “I don’t think you know how good you are at this.”

“What am I good at?”

“Whatever this is we’re doing.”

I no longer have any idea what we we’re doing. I only know I like it. “I think you’re pretty good at this too. Whatever it is.”

She lifts the hand I used on Swinger Chris and inspects it. “Your hand looks a lot better. The swelling is down.”

“It’s fine. It barely hurts anymore.” She brings it to her lips. “Your kiss will make it all better in no time.”

She puts her finger on the leg of my daks and draws an imaginary infinity symbol. I remember another time when she did it. It was after our second date when I explained everything to her about what I wanted. She does it when she’s nervous.

“He wants to meet me.”

He. I heard enough of the conversation to know she’s talking about her father, the sperm donor. That’s how I’ve come to think of him after hearing her call him that so many times. “How do you feel about that?”

“I think I’ve already met him.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I have a memory from my childhood. It’s very vague, but I’m sure I remember meeting him when I was little. My mom dressed me in a navy sailor dress. It had this huge collar on it and she pulled my hair up in pigtails. I was adorable,” she laughs. “She took me to a place where ducks paddled around in this fountain. They fascinated me, but she wouldn’t let me stay to watch them. She took me to him. I know it was the sperm donor, even if I don’t remember his face. As far as I know, I never saw him again—except on television and in the music department at Walmart.”