Smoke Bomb (Smoke Series Book 3)

TRINITY

This house was even more impressive than Mr. Esposito’s house. It was bigger and brighter, and it felt less like a museum and more like a home. The photos of Madeline, Blaise, and their son, Cree, filled the walls. Random toys were scattered around. From where I stood in the room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking rolling hills and green pastures with horses off in the distance, I could hear laughter.

Maddy had taken Cree upstairs to bathe him and get him ready for bed. Blaise had driven us here, then left to go meet Huck, Levi, and Gage. They had some business that would be taking them out of town for a few days. Although I’d told Maddy I would be fine back at the house, alone, she’d insisted, saying she could use the female company.

Deep down, I’d known she was worried about my mental health and leaving me alone. She had found me in the garden shed behind the house. I was checked out, having one of my episodes, rocking back and forth on the floor. When I came back from the dark corner of my brain I’d escaped to, her blue eyes were the first thing I saw. For a moment, I had stared at her silently, unsure of where I was. At first glance, she looked like an angel. As in an otherworldly being. Her platinum hair, perfect heart-shaped face, blue eyes, and genuine smile were shocking. Then, she spoke. Introduced herself and held out her hand for me. She stood up, pulling me with her. Then wrapped her arms around me and hugged me.

I was stunned. I wasn’t sure anyone other than Hayes had ever hugged me and meant it. Sure, the church people at his funeral had hugged me, but that had been required. This woman had done it because she wanted to.

She wrapped me in a large white towel and talked about everything from the weather, to her son, to how nice and clean the house was and asking me if I’d done that, to telling me that she was happy to have another female around. Somehow, she’d managed to get my thoughts off of what had happened with Huck in the shed until she opened the door to him saying how I wasn’t worthy of Hayes and calling me a lying slut.

Why did I want the man to touch me when he always ended up hurting me? Was it because of my past? Was I so broken that his cruelty was a turn-on for me? Or was it that, deep down, I thought that was what I deserved?

“Mommy!” I heard Cree calling out as little feet hit the ground running. “Hut asshoooole!” Then, he giggled.

“Cree, I told you to stop saying that. It’s not a nice word. Mommy is sorry she said it,” Maddy told him.

They were downstairs now and coming this way. I could hear their footsteps getting closer.

Cree wasn’t running full blast just yet. It was more of a wobbly run, where he looked like he might tumble over at any moment. Maddy had told me he turned one last month. He was doing really well for his age. When he entered the room, he saw me and grinned, then clapped his hands before noticing a red toy car on the floor and making his way over to pick it up.

Maddy followed him into the great room, as she had called it earlier. She sighed and pushed her hair back out of her face. “Bathing him should be an Olympic sport,” she said with a smile. “How about you help me drink a bottle of wine once I get him in bed?”

I nodded. “That sounds good.”

She turned her gaze to Cree and smiled lovingly at him. My chest squeezed. That was what it was like to have a mom. Lucky little boy. He was loved. He was wanted. Maddy squatted down and opened her arms up wide. Cree turned to see her and dropped his toy, then ran over to her, wrapping his arms around her neck.

“La lu, Mommy,” he said, nuzzling his little face close to hers.

“I love you most,” she replied, then stood up with him in her arms. Her gaze came back to mine. “I’ll be back in a bit. Go to the kitchen and fix yourself a snack. Make yourself at home. Whatever we have, you’re welcome to it.”

I stood there and watched her walk away, holding her son, and my chest ached so bad that if I could still cry, I would be a mess right now. She wanted me to make myself at home. That was laughable. I hadn’t truly ever had one of those. My apartments hadn’t been home. They had just been a place to live. There was never a place with family who loved me to call home.

What must that feel like?

I had watched how her husband looked at her. It was as if the sun rose and set at her feet. She was beautiful and kind. It was easy to see why he loved her.

I had often wondered why Hayes loved me. He never gave me reasons. He never said the words but he’d wanted to marry me. I had thought that meant he loved me.

Even if he had lived, we would never have had this. A home where laughter and love filled it. We hadn’t looked at each other the way Blaise and Maddy did.

Knowing that I had said yes to him because he loved me made me feel as if Huck’s words had some truth to them. I had just never wanted to admit it. I had lied to Hayes. I let him think I loved him the way a wife should love a husband. I agreed to marry him because I wanted a family. I wanted to belong.

That hadn’t been fair to him.

Guilt wasn’t something new to me, but each time it dug its claws in, it was hard to face.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO

Most nights that Hayes took me out on a date, it was centered around some church function. But occasionally, there was a weekend that the church didn’t have something planned, and we were free to see a movie, go to dinner, drive to the beach. Tonight, was one of those nights.

We had driven to the beach, had dinner at his favorite seafood restaurant, then walked over the bridge onto the sand. Hayes had brought a blanket with him for us to sit on as we watched the waves crashing against the shoreline as the sun set. I leaned back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me.

He was careful to keep from touching my boobs. I had thought it was sweet at first. He was taking it slow. Not wanting me to feel like he just wanted sex. But we had been seeing each other exclusively for four months, and we had only kissed. He never tried anything more.

I hated to admit that my insecurities were starting to raise their ugly head. My body was something I had never been comfortable with. I saw more flaws in it than other people did. That had been clear when the manager at Diamond Heels insisted I get onstage. Men had requested me. Hearing their approval of my naked body should have given me more confidence than it had.

Now, here I was, with my first boyfriend at the age of twenty, and he didn’t seem interested in touching me. I kept telling myself it was because he was going to be a minister. He was waiting until marriage for sex. I got that, but did he have to wait for everything?

I hadn’t wanted to be touched intimately since the day my stepbrother had violated me. It had terrified me when guys looked at me with interest in their eyes all throughout high school and even in college.

Then, Professor Kilgore had taken some sick fascination with me, and when he was caught trying to rape me, he accused me of coming on to him and said he had fallen for my Lolita ways. The university took away my scholarship, and he lost his job. He was now working at a community college in Texas the last I’d checked. His wife hadn’t left him, and she’d believed whatever lies he’d told.

I wanted to wipe those memories away. Hayes could do that for me. I wasn’t scared of his touch or attention. I doubted he’d ever lose himself to any lustful desires. He was so careful and in control. But if we could do more than the small amount of kissing and cuddling we’d done, it would be nice.

Like right now, he could move his hand up just a few inches and touch my breasts. I was ready to see how that felt when it wasn’t being forced upon me. He could move his hand down to the hem of my sundress and pull it up and touch me between my legs. I could see if an orgasm that I didn’t give to myself was better.

Shifting so that his hand was closer to the bottom of my breast, I held my breath, waiting until it would brush against his hand. Before I could get in the right position, Hayes moved his arms down lower on my stomach. Well, crap.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asked me.

I was thankful it was getting dark and my back was to him. My face was flushed. “No, I’m good,” I told him, then decided to try something else.

Scooting my bottom back until it was pressed against his crotch area, I waited until I felt the hard ridge of an erection, but he shifted back enough so we were no longer touching.

That had been obvious. He didn’t want that kind of connection. Did he find me unattractive? He’d told me I looked beautiful many times, but maybe my body as a whole didn’t do anything for him.

“Hayes?” I asked, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

“Yeah?”

“Are we ever going to do anything more than kiss? Or are you not attracted to me like that?”

He was silent for a moment, and I prepared myself for a letdown. I’d asked him, and if he told me the truth and it hurt, I would have to accept it.

“I want to wait until marriage,” he said finally. “You know that.”

I nodded. “Yes, I know, but I’m not talking about sex,” I said, then took his hand and placed it on my left breast. “This isn’t sex.”

He went very still. I held my breath and waited for him to do something. My heart sank when he pulled his hand free and moved back from me. I curled my legs up behind me and stared down at my hands. This was the end. I’d asked for more than he wanted with me.

“That leads to other things, Trinity. If we touch each other in ways that feel good, we will want more. That’s what happens. You touch and get carried away, and then you’re having sex.”

I didn’t see how touching my boobs or me pressing my butt against his crotch was going to have us ripping each other’s clothes off. But I said nothing. I continued to look at my hands.

Hayes reached over and slipped a finger under my chin and lifted my head up so that my eyes met his. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out. There isn’t a heterosexual man on this planet who wouldn’t be attracted to you. Don’t get in your head like that. This isn’t about you or your body. I promise you.”

I nodded, and he leaned forward, then pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“I want to marry you,” he whispered.