type is that?”
“A born gypsy. He was an actor with an on-the-road theater troupe. Handsome, a brilliant performer, with the itchiest feet you’ve ever seen. And I worshiped the ground he walked on. So did my mother—until she got pregnant. I don’t remember her. She’d been an actress with the troupe, or so I was told. My coming along ruined an up and coming career. As soon as she was able, she disappeared and left me with my father. I was barely more than an infant.”
Jesus Christ. He’d heard the sad story of Kennedy’s birth parents and how her own mother had abandoned her when she was little. There were, she’d told him, a lot of similar stories among her sisters and foster siblings. No one ended up in the system without a sad story. But a baby. How could a woman be so cold?
“Daddy loved me, in his way, but being a parent was never his first priority. It often wasn’t even his last. The only reason he managed to keep me as long as he did was because the entire troupe sort of shared care-taking duty of me. But people rotated in and out of it, depending on the show. Some were more kid-friendly than others. Most agreed the road was not the best place for a child. Eventually, there was no one willing to look after me but Daddy.”
She paused, knitting her hands together in a restless gesture that betrayed far more upset about this than her matter-of-fact tone conveyed. “I was left behind twice before social services got involved and took me away.”
“Left behind?” Flynn demanded.
“He forgot me. The first time was only a couple of hours. I’d been playing in the theater dressing room, and he thought I was already on the bus when they rolled out. The second time, I fell asleep during the after party. It was late, after midnight, and I’d found a quiet spot to curl up and sleep. I didn’t wake up until morning, and the theater was dark and empty.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.”
Appalled, Flynn wanted to gather her up, but he sensed she needed the distance, just now. “You must’ve been terrified.”
“Beyond. I made it up to the front lobby and beat on the front doors until my hands were bruised.” She looked at them now, as if she could still see the bruises. “Eventually, a woman walking her dog saw me and called the police. The bus rolled up about the time they got the door open. My father was beside himself. They wouldn’t turn me over to him. Social services was called. They set up a court date to establish his fitness as a parent, and I was put into my first foster home.”
As she spoke, her voice went flatter and flatter. He’d only thought she’d been shut down before. “It was just supposed to be temporary, until the hearing. The troupe had to move on. They had a show scheduled and couldn’t afford to miss it. He went with them because his understudy was ill, and no one else could play the part. Everybody’s paycheck depended on it. He promised me he’d come back as soon as it was done. But as it happens, at that show, he finally got the big break he’d been waiting for all those years. So, he didn’t show for the court hearing, and I came to Joan.”
“And that’s it? He didn’t fight for you?”
“Oh, he made a few grand gestures over the years. Promises he usually broke. But he always left in the end. His dreams were more important than me.”
“He sounds a right bastard. What kind of a man walks away from his child? What kind of man forgets his child?” Ari had only been in his life for a matter of weeks, and he couldn’t fathom not thinking of her every day for the rest of his life.
“A selfish one.” The matter-of-fact tone held no judgment. This was her truth. She was simply stating it. Flynn could see her struggling to pull herself back from whatever dark place the recitation had dragged her to. “You’re not selfish. My father would never have done what you’re doing. He’d have found some excuse, some way of slipping out of it. You may have a gypsy’s soul, Flynn, but you’re not like my father. You’re a far better man.”
“I’m not sure the bar’s too high for being a better man than he was. I’m sorry for how he hurt you.” The words felt wholly inadequate in the face of what she’d endured. He could see now why she was so fiercely determined to put Ari first, to maintain the home that had been given to her by Joan, and he felt himself slide a little deeper in love with her.
Pru shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m a grown woman, and I made my own choice to be with you. I don’t regret it.”
“Kennedy seems to think you will.” That stung. They’d been friends for years, and he’d thought she knew him better than that.
“She’s not factoring the most salient point.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t expect you to stay.”
The words, her obvious belief in them, were a slap in the face. Flynn wanted to argue, to make the declaration he’d been trying to make with the song he’d sung before the entire night had gone off the rails. But in her current frame of mind, would she believe him? She had reasons, good ones, not to trust people to stick around. Both her parents had left her. Kennedy had left for years, and though the reasons hadn’t been what Pru and her sisters had thought, the emotional toll was bound to be the same. Even Athena and Maggie had gone off to their own lives across the country, trusting that she’d be what she’d always been. The one who stayed.
She needed someone to stay for her. Flynn wanted to be that man. Above and beyond the untenable position they were in with the phony engagement, he wanted a life with her. This life. But he understood that Pru was a woman who’d put little stock in words and promises. Too many people had broken them. He needed to prove himself through actions, and that would simply take time.
So instead of making professions, Flynn stepped into her, cupping her face in his hands. “I’m here. Whatever may come, I’m here. I won’t leave you to face any of this alone.” I won’t leave you.
When she sighed, some of the tension seemed to leech out of her. “Take me to bed, Flynn.”
If this was all she’d take from him for now, he’d give her everything he had. He led her back to the bedroom, where they quietly undressed. Here was tenderness and a bottomless well of patience as he took her up and over the first peak. And if, as they slid over the edge together with sighs and moans, he gave her the words in Irish, she was too lost in sensation to ask. But he held the words, and her, close to his heart, as they both drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
THEY GOT THROUGH THE weekend, giving the Nashville girls a true pampering experience. When she’d mentioned the possibility of expanding to a full day spa, they’d been all over the idea, insisting on getting on the mailing list for when it happened. When Porter brought by the initial concept drawings Sunday night, it seemed like a sign. Or maybe Pru just wanted to cling to the idea that she could do something to distract Kennedy from the situation with Flynn.
In the past few days, Kennedy had kept her distance. It had been under the guise of getting over jet lag and unpacking from their honeymoon, but the fact that Kennedy had been a world traveler for a decade made it feel like evasion and avoidance. Pru had felt her disapproval radiating from the house she shared with Xander three miles away. Standing on their front porch, she hesitated over the knocker. The police cruiser was gone, so Xander was on duty. Pru was grateful. One set of disapproving eyes was enough. Still, maybe it was a mistake to do this now.