“Huh.”I must be insane to spend more time with a man who makes me lose all control.But then, she’d never felt this way before. Free and uncertain and attracted to a man who clearly wanted her.
“I could do worse.” She had—Cody.
But Smith was nothing like her ex. He didn’t lie. He said what he thought, maybe a little too much. And he hadn’t liked her avoiding him.
She smiled as she went back into her apartment and brought out the ingredients for her lemon meltaways. He liked her. She liked him.
Now what to do about that?
Chapter Seven
Smith didn’t know what had come over him. He didn’t cater to women much. He was pleasant, polite. And he was an unselfish lover. Why should he care so damn much that Erin had ignored him? She seemed embarrassed to admit she’d thought he was avoiding her. Had he been? He’d been waiting for her to come to him, and perhaps she’d done the same.
She had a point. But Smith wasn’t used to having to pursue women. They came to him. At his size, he was difficult to miss. His muscles and looks were enough to lure potential bedmates. Yet he’d been the one chasing a lover this time.Hell.Every time he saw her, he wanted her a little bit more.
Erin’s smile made her entire face light up, and he could stare at her for hours and not grow bored. He wanted to do something for her, anything, to hear her laugh again.
Knowing Brad had had her all to himself annoyed the shit out of Smith, and that bothered him too. Because he felt…jealous.
Fuck.What the hell was the matter with him?
It didn’t help that his new brothers seemed way too happy with the women in their lives. And now even Hector and Lafayette, twin coworkers, had also paired up. Every damn body he knew seemed to have found love and come out the better for it. Which showed him how jacked up his life was that he had no one and never had.
But things were different now. He knew Meg wasn’t his mom. Angela had died. He had brothers. A cousin. Hell, even Aunt Jane. He had only to accept them and let them in.
A familiar tension gripped him. He hated being afraid, worried that he’d open himself up and get stepped on all over again. No matter how many times he tried, the results had always been the same.
“You’re my penance, boy.” Momma frowned at him. Slight, blond, and blue-eyed, his beautiful mother looked nothing like him.
Five-year-old Smith asked, “What’s penance, Momma?”
“Atonement. A need to do right. I’m being punished because of you.”
He started to cry, not wanting to get her in trouble. “I’m sorry.”
“You can’t even stop from pissing in your pants.”
Shame filled him. But he hated the dark, and being shoved in the closet for hours on end scared him so much.
“I won’t do it again if you put a light on.”
“You’ll do it again because you hate me.” She sighed and straightened his shirt. “God hates me too. Becauseshecan do nothing wrong, andIcan do nothing right.”
“Momma?” He tugged her arm, already tall and spindly, and constantly hungry. “I love you.”
“I know you do.” She seemed to soften. The doorbell rang, and her expression turned glacial. “But you don’t matter.” She answered the door, and Uncle Allen entered, all smiles as he saw Smith standing there.
The visit went as it always did. Uncle Allen asked him questions. They played blocks and cars together. Then he went into the back to talk to Momma. Smith watched TV, away from Momma’s room. But he heard the moans and grunts and things banging anyway, things he was supposed to ignore.
Allen would appear, ruffle Smith’s hair and smile, then leave with promises to return the next month.
For a long time he did. Until he didn’t. And Momma grew angrier and meaner, because she deserved so much more out of life than him. She wanted good little boys like his cousins who didn’t wet their pants or their bed and weren’t hungry or scared or needy.
But poor Momma had nothing else but a waste of a child. So, he’d do his best to make it up to her. He tried so hard, but he never could measure up.
“And now I know why. She wasn’t my mother, and I’m not her son.” But good old Uncle Allen must have known. And he hadn’t cared enough to stay.
The memories left a bad taste in his mouth, as they always did. Smith wondered what he thought he was doing with Erin, a decent woman too sweet for her own good. Then he told himself to stop being a drama queen. Hell, it was just pizza and lemon bars. And if he were lucky, some quality sack time with the beauty next door.
