Ride Her Hard (The Hard Boys 1)

James wasn’t going to survive the night with his mom.

“Screaming into pillows.”

“It was how James got his anger out. It was so cute. When he would temper tantrum, I’d watch him. He’d grab a pillow, push it against his face, and scream. He’d scream his little heart out. It was so cute.” She laughed.

Nope, he wasn’t going to survive the night. There was no way he could look cool in front of this woman with his mother ruining him.

With his constant smirk and laughter, Caleb seemed to be having fun.

After Eliza finished the first piece of lasagna, she asked for seconds, and he watched as his mother served her more. She had an appetite. He liked that.

“We need to invite her to dinner,” Caleb said.

“Dinner. She’s coming home tomorrow. You’ll bring her, James. She has to have breakfast and dinner. I won’t accept anything less.”

“I’ll still be cleaning the kitchen tomorrow,” James said.

“Nonsense. It won’t take you long to clean. Besides, I made you a perfectly good meal.”

By the time dinner was finished and his mother and brother had left, there was no lasagna or salad, but a whole lot of cleanup.

Eliza offered to help and when they entered his kitchen, she paused. “What the hell did she do?”

“I have no idea. Mom cooking is a bad idea. She makes so much of a mess. At least, most of the time. There are some breakfasts and dinners where there’s next to no mess.”

“Let me guess. When she has to be the one cleaning up?”

James laughed. “You have already figured out my mother.”

“Not hard to do, is it?” Eliza asked. “The lasagna was worth the messy clean-up. What would you like me to do?”

“You start on the dishes. I’ll get to the floor, ceiling, walls, and everything else. If I knew she was coming around, I would’ve packed everything away.”

“Does your mom come to visit often?”

“Rarely. Only if I’m sick and it’s one of those days she brings me her soothing soup, and that is it. She doesn’t cook.”

“I like your mom.”

“I don’t wet the bed.”

Eliza frowned, turning to look at him.

“I figured I’d get that out there for you to know. No peeing the bed.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure we all have our tales from childhood.”

“What’s yours?” he asked.

She paused and looked back at him again. “Mine?”

“You heard my mom today. She has a lot of tales to tell. What about you? Do you have any?”

“Er, not ones I’d like to tell.”

He noticed her face was bright red. “No problem.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell them or anything. It’s just … my mom and dad left me. You’ve probably heard the tale.”

“It’s not a tale.”

“I know. This actually happened. I guess it is only fair. I would have nightmares about being abandoned. There’s no way for me to escape and no one cares about me. I’m forgotten and the box is thrown away like trash. I think I’m miniature-size or something. I don’t know. I know I’m not normal, but who is in dreamland?”

“I have no idea, but I agree with you. Dreams can suck.” He couldn’t believe she’d even shared a part of her fears with him. They were childish ones, but he had to wonder if she still had the same fears now. He had an overwhelming need to let her know it was going to be okay. That he and his brothers would never let anything happen to her.

Instead, he remained silent. Not saying a word. He wanted to. He felt like a fucking idiot for staying quiet, but he didn’t know what to say.

It was late by the time they finished cleaning the kitchen.

“I need to shower.” She winced, glancing down at her knee.

“I’ll be right outside. Come on, I’ll take you.” He lifted her in his arms, liking the weight and feel of her against him. She felt good, amazingly good. He enjoyed having her in his arms, to love, to hold, to cherish.

What the fuck?

He carried her upstairs to the bathroom. “If you need anything, I’ll be right outside.”

****

Someone was mocking her.

Eliza knew it as she stripped out of her clothing. The steam from the shower filled up the room, and she had to wonder who it was.

Shaking her head, she ran her fingers through her long hair. She’d never gotten it cut short, always preferring the long length of her locks. Aunt Betty loved to comb it at night. They would spend hours watching movies while her aunt brushed her hair, or they did facials together.

She’d missed her aunt so much while she’d been away, but it felt important to her to know what she wanted. Also, it was nice to be far away from people who had already judged her before getting to know her.

Not tonight. She doesn’t get to invade my thoughts tonight.