The Major's Welcome Home
The obvious misery on Beck’s face made her feel only marginally better. “Why did I get the feeling you weren’t welcome in your father’s house?” A muscle in his cheek ticked. “I didn’t like it.”
The change of topic had her head spinning. “Wait. What?” Hadn’t they been talking about his dick seconds ago? “This is what you wanted to talk about?”
He nodded once. “Among other things.”
She wanted to blow off the line of questioning, but a glance toward the pool had her remembering all the times she’d woken up at the crack of dawn to drive her father to physical therapy. Half the time, she’d passed out on one of the leather benches until he’d finished swimming and wanted to leave, but it had made her feel useful. Like she’d made a difference in his recovery. “I’m welcome there. I just…” I’ve served my purpose. “You don’t know what I was like before. It’s a wonder they’ll bring me around polite company at all.” When Beck only watched her with quiet patience, she sliced a hand through the water. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I was like before?”
“I don’t care about before. I care about now.”
Kenna stared. “Why do you care at all, Beck? Shouldn’t it tell you something that my own parents have moved on and done their best to forget the portion of their life that includes me? They would erase me if they could. I’m a necessary evil to them.”
“No.” His harsh tone brought to mind the metal she worked with. “I don’t believe that.”
“You probably believe there’s good in everyone,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “That’s you. Discarding people is a foreign idea when you’re a big, fat war hero.”
“I’m no hero, Kenna.”
She scoffed. “I’ve been here a long time. I can separate out the good men, and you’re one of them. It’s why you can’t just let me go.”
He didn’t look happy. At all. “Explain that statement.”
Fear dripped slowly into her chest. Fear that once she outlined the reality for him, he’d see the truth in her explanation and bail. “My mother trapped my father into marriage by getting pregnant. She worked herself to the bone trying to earn his love and it never happened. Never. He doesn’t have it in him to love someone. His relationship with Tina is all about convenience.” She sucked in a breath. “I represent failure to both of them. My mom thought I could fix what was broken in my father, and I couldn’t. My father sees me as a product of his one and only fuck-up. Now he only makes room for me in his life when it’s convenient.” Her laughter held no trace of humor. “And yet, here I am. Living within walking distance of them both, wondering when I’ll see them next, like some masochist. The truth is, they found something better.”
“You’re not a masochist. You want them to love you the same way you love them.” Kenna didn’t realize he’d come closer until he cupped the side of her face. “You still haven’t explained why I can’t let you go.”
Common sense commanded she push him away. This closeness was too personal and he saw too much, but she couldn’t move under the intensity of his focus on her. It surrounded her like a hot whirlpool. “There are a few reasons.”
He caressed her bottom lip with his thumb, appearing fascinated by the curved feature. “Let’s hear them, so I can shoot them down one by one.”
“You’ve gotten a lot more confident since we first met.”
Beneath the water, their bodies brushed. “I managed to get the beautiful girl to come back for more. That does something to a man.”
Holy shit, she was turning into a straight-up junkie for his touch. The flesh at the juncture of her thighs contracted, seeking fulfillment. From him. Only him. Still… “We’re two different types of people, Beck. You ring the doorbell to meet your date’s father. I climb out my window and hitchhike to Florida while everyone’s sleeping.”
His sculpted lips lifted at one end. “You’re worth shaking hands over. Worth the time it takes to be read the riot act, Kenna. I’ll always be the guy who wants to show you that.” He dropped a hand beneath the bubbling water and stroked her belly with his knuckles. “That doesn’t mean I won’t choose to show you a different way once we’re alone. And darlin’, I wouldn’t make it to Florida before that happened. Not even half a mile.”
An image of her straddling Beck in the backseat of a car made her short of breath. “Not everyone needs a hero, Beck. Not everyone wants to be repaired.”
“Good. Because you’re not broken.” He gave her a hard look. “I’m sorry the people who love you made you feel that way. They’re the ones who need fixing.”