Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

I kept drawing patterns on the rippling muscles of his pecs, words subdued. “I wait, I guess. Pray that they approve it and this whole mess doesn’t affect it in any way.”

“You mind me asking how much you were asking for?”

“No, I don’t mind. Two hundred thousand. When I found out my grandmother left everything to me, the attorney had an estimator go in to give me an idea of what repairs would be needed to reopen. He wanted to give me the option to cut my losses and sell it off for what it was worth.”

“And that’s what you wanted? To come back here and take all that on?”

Soft affection slipped from my mouth. “When I was growing up, running that restaurant was the only thing I wanted. I couldn’t imagine anything but being there at my grandmother’s side.”

“Why’d you leave, Rynna?”

Sadness wove into the fibers of my being and I tilted my face so I could see him. “Because I thought I was in love and it turned out it was nothing but a joke. I couldn’t be the joke anymore, Rex. It hurt too bad.”

“Fuck . . . I hate him.”

“It wasn’t just him. It was everything. Everyone. The school. This town. I knew if I stayed, everyone would be laughing at me.”

I could still see Janel, that evil, depraved laugh, no care as she crushed my soul and destroyed my world.

“I was humiliated. Betrayed. At the time, I saw no other option than running, thinking I couldn’t stay here and face the people I thought cared about me. I was so young. Looking back now? It seems ridiculous that I let them affect me so much.”

He tightened his hold. “It’s amazing how much power the ones we care about most hold. Especially when they’re hurting us.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I just wish I hadn’t stayed away so long. I wish I had come back when she was still alive. She wanted so badly for me to come home, even though she paid for my college, encouraged me to find what I loved. What made me happy. And I was fine in San Francisco, satisfied on some level, but it never brought me the true kind of joy I knew she wanted for me. And then . . . she was gone . . . and I was too late.”

He shifted a fraction, staring at me intently, almost cautiously. “Did you come back for her, or for you?”

“At first? I—” I blinked, wandering through the emotions I’d felt at the news.

Agony.

Grief.

Guilt.

The fear that had stumbled my feet and the hope that had pushed me forward.

“I was terrified to come back, but I did it because there was a part of me that had never let this place go. It didn’t take more than my walking through the doors of that restaurant for me to realize this was where I belonged. All the years I spent working in a corporate office and, it turns out, I just want my fingers buried in dough.”

Warm laughter floated out. “And here you are . . . home . . . right where you’re supposed to be.”

“Yeah.”

“Making pies.” A tease slipped into his tone.

A grin pulled at the corner of my mouth, and I edged back onto both hands, grinning down at him. “Oh, you like those pies, huh?”

He leaned up, kissing the tip of my nose, the caress of his lips chained to my heart. “Mm-hmm . . . I definitely like those pies.”

I could feel the heat flush my body, my voice growing quiet when I asked, “Did you eat the one I made you?”

He rumbled a greedy sound. “Every single bit. All except for the piece Frankie had to have. And fuck me, if I didn’t want that piece, too.”

“Stingy.”

“You can’t blame a man who knows what is his.” He was all smirks, this easy cockiness where he lay in the middle of my bed.

God. He was beautiful and I still couldn’t believe he was there. That this was real.

A rush of joy took me over. This happiness that spread far and fast. I fell into his playfulness, the ease I had no idea this man could show. “Is that what won you over? My pies?”

“Maybe . . . a little.”

I swatted his chest. “No more pies for you.”

A shock of surprise jutted from my lungs when he suddenly flipped me, straddling me from above. His fingers dove into my sides, this hard, callused man, laughing as he tickled me. “Those are just wicked words, woman. Don’t you dare tease me like that.”

“Oh my God . . . Rex, stop! Stop! I’m so ticklish,” I squealed, struggling to break free and never wanting to go anywhere.

“Not until you make me all the pies.”

I tried to catch my breath and fight him off and hold him all at the same time. “No. No more pies for you.”