Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15) (15 page)

“
That
’
s my little girl
,” he says again. “
And I would do just about anything
to protect my daughters
.”

I gulp. “
Would that include having to hide a dead body
?” I ask him.

“
Oh, no
.” He waves a dismissive hand in the air. “
If you hurt my daughter, no one will be able to find enough of you to bury
.”

“
I understand
.”

“
You know those dads they write songs about? The ones who sit on the porch
cleaning guns and waiting for their daughters
’
dates to arrive, and then they scare
the everliving
fuck
”—he spells this out with his fingers, and I have never been exposed to a word like “ever-living”, but I get the idea of it—“
out of the
dates by making them think they
’
d shoot them
?”

“
I don
’
t listen to much music
.” I point to my ear.

He grins. “
Oh, so you don’t know about it. I
’
ll explain it for you. Some dads will sit on the porch with a big shotgun and they
’
ll warn a man
off without saying a word, just by letting the man know Dad
’
s armed. But I
’
ll never do that
.”

“
Oh, that
’
s good
.” I let out my breath.

“
You know why I won
’
t do that
?”

“
No, but I bet you
’
re going to tell me
.” I rock back on my heels.

“
Well, since you asked so nicely
,
I don
’
t do that because I raised five brilliant daughters. They
’
re tough when they need to be, and soft as cotton when that
’
s
what
’
s necessary. They smell good and they look pretty, but they kick ass. And Marta and I taught them how to treat people right. They
’
re kind, respectful, and they sometimes make my heart stop when they walk into the room, just because I
’
m so damn proud to be their dad
.”

“
That
’
s good
.” The clench around my heart eases some.

“
I never worry about their choices, because they typically make good
ones. That
’
s the beauty of having brilliant kids. I would bet men that have sons worry about where they
’
re going to stick their
—” His face scrunches up and he yells over his shoulder at Paul Reed. Paul grimaces and shows him the sign for “penis.” It’s the letter P pointed at his nose. And all I can think to myself is oh holy hell, he’s about to talk about my penis.

“Thank you,” Emilio says to
Paul. Then he turns back to me. “
I bet a parent that has a son has to worry about where that son’s going to stick his penis. But lucky for them, they only have to worry about that
one
penis
.” He holds up a single finger.

I choke, coughing into my fist. He stops long enough to whack me on the back.

“
So the way I see it is this
:
Dads with sons have to worry about that one single penis. Dads with
daughters have to worry about
all
the penises
.” He glares at me. “
Do I have to worry about
your
penis
?”

My penis will probably never get hard again. In fact, I think my balls have shriveled up inside me. “
No sir, you don
’
t have to worry about my penis
.”

He slaps me on the shoulder again. “
Well, that
’
s good. I don
’
t even want to think about your penis, you see
.”

“
I
’
ll be sure you never have
a reason to think about my penis
.”

He smiles
. “Good. Then we’re all done here.”
He kisses Lark on the cheek, says goodbye to the Reeds, and he leaves.

“
What did he say to you
?” Lark asks.

“
He pretty much made sure I
’
d never, ever get to have sex with you
.”

A tiny V appears between her eyebrows. “
What
?”

“
My dick is now too afraid to ever come out of hiding, I think
.” I look down toward my
waist. “
And he and I had a really good relationship before all this
.” I shake my head. “
Now he hates me
.”

“
My dad hates you
?”

“
No
.” I look south again. “
My dick. He hates me. He
’
ll never forgive me for subjecting him to that
.”

Her face suddenly looks warm. “
Well, I
’
d offer to give him a kiss and make it better, but that would be really inappropriate
.”

My dick apparently accepts the apology.
He’s a forgiving bastard. In fact, I think he’d like to come out and bask in the glow of her saying she’s sorry. I pull my shirt down to cover the growing bulge. “
You ready to get out of here
?” While I can still walk?

The sun is setting as we leave the shop, but we’re in the heart of the city. Despite the hustle and bustle, the people bumping into my shoulder, and the way Lark has to move side
to side to dodge people and potholes, when she slips her hand into mine and threads our fingers together, I never felt quite so complete. She holds my hand, and the feel of her trusting me sinks straight to the very center of me, and the only thing that matters is that she’s close to me. I could go on holding her hand forever and be perfectly content. But suddenly Lark stops and looks behind us.
Her brow furrows and she looks up at me.

I wanted to have a quiet evening with my girl, and now I’m stuck in the middle of the city with my girl…and my ex-girlfriend, who is not very happy to see us. Particularly not holding hands. She’s like a bad penny, and I can’t help but wonder why she keeps showing up where I am.

Samantha glares at our clasped fingers. Lark tries to pull her fingers from
mine, but I hold tighter and look only at her, trying to tell her with my eyes not to worry, that this is not going to be an issue. But it is going to be an issue. I’m aware of it. Lark is aware of it too.

Suddenly, two men in suits walk up on each side of us. They say something to Lark and she looks relieved. She tugs my hand and points to a dark vehicle that’s parked at the curb. A uniformed
man holds the door open.

“
For us
?” I ask her.

She smiles. “
For us
.”

Samantha tugs on my sleeve. “
Are you dating her
?” she asks.

I watch Lark slide into the car and then I get in behind her. I look out the open door and say, “
Yes. I
’
m dating her
.”

“
Your mother is going to be so angry!
”

I heave a sigh. My mother is a problem I’ll worry about tomorrow. Right now, I just want to worry about
Lark. Right now, I just want to know if she likes me as much as I like her. I want to know if she thinks about me as much as I think about her. If she thinks we could make this real and normal. If a deaf guy can love a hearing girl, I want to give it a shot. I just hope that’s what she wants too, because I kind of need her now. Like air. Like water. Like food. Like knowledge. Like art. She’s become
so much more than a cap thief.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and go to my contacts list. I change her name in my phone from Lark McCapsnatcher to Lark McMine.

She leans her head on my shoulder and looks at what I type. Then she blushes and buries her face in my shoulder. I press a kiss against her hair. She squeezes my knee and I slip my hand under hers so I can hold it. I could hold this
girl’s hand forever.

Lark

“
You want to go to my apartment
?” he asks me.

“
Now
?”

He nods. “
I can make dinner
.”

“
You cook
?”

“
Are you kidding? I make a banging grilled cheese
.”

“
I love grilled cheese
.” I lean my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, breathing in the clean, manly scent of him.

Gently cupping my face with his hand, he tilts my head up. “Was that a yes?” he asks with his voice.

“Yes,” I say.
He nods and spells out his address for me. I give it to the driver, who looks a second too long at me in the rearview mirror.

Ryan’s brow furrows. “
Would you rather go to your apartment
?”

“
No
,” I rush to reassure him. “
I want to go to yours
.”

He smiles and kisses me quickly. The car pulls up outside his building and my driver hops out to open the door. “I won’t need you for the rest of the
night,” I tell him.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says. He looks everywhere but at me.

“I said I won’t need you.”

“I’ll wait just the same.” He pretends to pick a fleck of lint from his jacket.

“Suit yourself,” I toss out.

He glowers at me and goes to park the vehicle.

“
Is he coming with us
?” Ryan asks.

“
Probably
.”

His brow shoots up. “
Into the apartment
?”

“
No, he
’
ll probably stay in the hallway.”

“He can come inside if you need for him to.”

“
No
,” I tell him. “
I want you all to myself
.”

He grimaces. “
That might be difficult
.”

We go up the elevator and I can’t figure out what he means by that, until we open the door.

There’s a poker table in the middle of the room. “
Poker night
,” Ryan tells me.

There are four men sitting around the table, and each of them has a small pile of chips in
front of him. They don’t look up when we walk in, and then I realize they’re all deaf.

I tug Ryan’s sleeve. “
Are you sure you want me to be here right now
?”

He nods and smiles at me. “
I
’
m positive. You can meet my friends
.”

“
Really
?” My heart feels like it has grown wings inside my chest.

We walk closer to the table and someone finally sees us.

“
Where have you been
?” the blond one asks. He
points to the empty chair at the table.

“
I
’
m not playing tonight
,” Ryan says. He points to me. “
This is L-A-R-K
.” Every last one of them lays their cards down on the table and I suddenly feel like I’m on display. I step closer to Ryan.

I wave at them and say, “
Hi
.”

Ryan points to them each in turn, telling me their names, but his fingers move so fast and I’m so damn nervous that I miss most
of it. “
Nice to meet you
,” one of them says.

I make a Y shape with my hand and move it back and forth between them and me. “
You too
.”

“
You want to play poker
?” one of them asks. He points to the empty chair.

“
Oh, no
.” I wave my hand in the air.

“
Dude
,” the dark-haired one says, “
she has a vagina. She can
’
t play poker
.” He shoves the other one’s shoulder.

My face must be flaming red by now,
but I work through it. “
I do play poker
,” I say. “
Despite having a vagina. I know, I know
,” I rush to say, trying to act flippant, but I’m so nervous my hands are shaking as I sign. “
Having a vagina affects your brain, I
’
ve heard, which makes you unable to add and subtract. Or hold cards. Or place responsible bets
.” I look down toward my waist. “
Damn vaginas. Who knew they held that kind of power
?”