Walk with Me (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream) (14 page)

“Did you ever think to tell anyone about this abuse?” I hear a subtle judgment in his tone. Like
why didn’t you ever tell anyone about what he was doing
?

I exhale and purse my lips, readying myself to explain in a way for Donovan to understand what my child mind was thinking at the time. “I have never told anyone. You are actually the first person I’ve told the real truth to. Danielle doesn’t even know the extent of the abuse. I had no other family except my uncle and he was in and out of the hospital with his open heart surgery and kidney problems—he couldn’t take care of me. And I thought about telling the authorities, but all I could picture was being placed in a worse situation, so instead I worked toward my goal of saving money, getting into a good college, and leaving as soon as I legally could. I haven’t talked with them since and I don’t have any plans to do so in the near future.”

Donovan’s face softens as he pulls onto to the dirt shoulder of the highway and puts the car into park. He releases one of his hands from the steering wheel and grabs a tight hold of mine, setting the two on the center armrest and looking at me with pained eyes. “I am so sorry you had to go through that when you were a little girl. I’m struggling a little with my feelings at this moment because my instinct is to protect you and go over to your stepdad’s house and slam
his
head into the wall or arrest both of your parents for neglect and abuse. And then another part of me wants to just scoop you up into my arms and hug you to my chest like a little child.”

I unbuckle my seat belt and crawl over the armrest into Donovan’s lap and lay my head on his chest. He engulfs me with both arms and gives me a big bear hug. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, leaning down and kissing the top of my head. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry you were all alone. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. But I am here now and I will never allow anyone to ever hurt you again.”

Donovan releases me from his tight hold, grasping both hands to the side of my face, pulling it up for my eyes to meet his. “When I see how strong and capable you are, how focused and positive you are, I would have never imagined you had the childhood that you described.” He pauses and speaks with judicious words. “You. Will. Never have to go through something like that again.” He then pulls me back to his chest for a hug and simultaneously we inhale and exhale together, both knowing I kicked a hole in the wall around my heart, creating an opening for Donovan to step through.

I’ve opened up to Donovan more than anyone in my life. I’m willing to trust him and to see where our future is headed. I’m letting go of control and my fear of being hurt by a man and allowing Donovan in. I know that with Donovan’s love and patience this can be incredible. I never thought this would happen. I wasn’t even looking for this, but now that I’m here I don’t want to run away from it. I want to embrace what we have and explore more on every level possible.

Donovan kisses me again on the top of my head and releases me from the hug. I crawl back into my seat and secure my buckle. Donovan takes my hand and kisses the back with nothing but tenderness and lays it on the armrest to hold during the remainder of the drive home.

I pull up in front of the gray Tudor-style house—the home of Donovan’s parents. A modest house compared to some of the other monster mansions that have sprung up on the north end of town. It’s friendly enough with a well-manicured bright green lawn. Fresh croppings of winter rye and flowers line the walkway on either side like lights of a landing strip guiding visitors to the porch. The blinds on the front window are open, welcoming the outside in. Including me, I guess.

I forgot to clarify with Donovan when he invited me to the Sunday family dinner if I should come in through his parents’ front door or go in the side entrance to his guesthouse. I think social protocol would dictate I enter through the main house since this is my first official meeting of them. I take a deep, calming breath and exhale, steeling my nerves.

Grabbing the potted plant I brought as a hostess gift on Danielle’s suggestion, I get out of the car. Before I even step onto the sidewalk, Donovan is at my side wearing his all-American grin, and sweeps me into a huge hug, lifting me off the ground. I throw my mouth open, startled from my attacker, but never get a sound out because Donovan’s lips cover mine and plant the most delicious moist kiss on me as I slide down his body and back to earth, careful not to drop the plant.

“Well, hello to you, too.” I exhale with my best sexy smile when Donovan releases me from the bear hug. “Miss me much?” I try to be cute and playful but deep down I’m nervous as all hell. Meeting the parents, especially Donovan’s, is a big deal. With what I gathered from his cousin, he doesn’t bring girls home to meet the family. So I’m sure they, as well as me, know this is major. What if they don’t like me or think I’m not good enough for their perfect, godlike son?

“You look so damn sexy in that new little red car Paul got for you. I had to come out and stake my claim on you for all my neighbors to see.” Donovan cups my face with both of his hands. “And yes, I have missed you more than you know.” Leaning in, he grazes my lips with his for a soft and gentle kiss, which begins to deepen, before he pulls away. I’m left dizzy and confused with the slight need for more.

It’s been three days since our Mammoth trip, but because of our opposite schedules, connecting during the week is difficult. We’ve been relying on texts or e-mail to keep in touch, which initiates and fans the flames of my feelings, but nothing is like the full five senses in action with Donovan standing right here in front of me. It’s his gorgeous face, musky scent, strong arms, the sweetness of his mouth, and his velvet voice that’s pulling me into his world and changing me and my beliefs to the core. I am opening up to the potential that is and the greatness that can be between us.

Our car ride back from Mammoth was a pivotal moment for us. For the first time in my life, I’m letting my guard down. I’m sharing my fears, my hopes, my dreams…my pain, and allowing myself to experience an emotional connection I didn’t even know I was capable of. My heart is in Donovan’s hands to hold and keep safe while we continue exploring what this is. I blindly trust him to help guide me down this journey I have chosen to embark with him knowing full well all of this can end tomorrow, but I don’t care. The match has been lit and there is no stopping now. I would rather experience what I am at this moment and risk losing everything than play it safe and not feel anything.

Donovan takes the potted plant from my hands and looks back to the car. “Do you have everything? Wait, it looks like someone’s been a bad girl.” Donovan shoots me a disapproving grin and walks over to the car, pulling a parking ticket out from under my windshield wiper. How did I not see that driving over here? Great, another forty bucks I don’t have.

“It’s a note to you, Kenna. It says ‘Give me a call if you want. I would,’ and it’s signed, ‘Cruz
.’
” I freeze in place. Cruz? I haven’t talked with him since our motorcycle ride. Didn’t he get the message? Why the hell is he coming around and how does he even know this is my car? This is a little too weird, but that’s kind of like him, floating in and out every couple months. He’s obviously in denial about us.

Donovan gingerly places the plant on the hood of the car and leans against the side door with his arms and legs crossed in front of him. It’s a shame his body language and the expression on his face is one of disappointment, because seeing him posing in all his hunkiness is working on me in such an arousing way. He holds up the note between his fingers for me to take. “What are we doing here, Kenna? Are you dating other people?”

“No,” I say with a high-pitch protest. “I haven’t seen or spoken with him for weeks. It’s only you. It’s only been you since our first date. I don’t know about you but I’m not interested in seeing anyone else.” All I think about and fantasize about is Donovan, and when I’m with him, all I want to do is melt into him. I’m not declaring myself to him or making a lifelong commitment, but I’m not interested in looking elsewhere at this time.

“Good.” He pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my waist, drawing my hips toward his. “It’s only you, too. I’m looking forward to continuing down this path we are just starting on and the thought of you with someone else makes me not want to take another step. Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asks with his eyebrows elevated to the sky. “I won’t be able to share you.”

My chest tightens in response to his words. He wants me for himself. “You won’t have to share me, but that goes both ways.” I pull my face back, mimicking his expression, and hold on to his beefy arms. I need to claim my stake on this man as well. I want him as mine. Only mine.

He pulls me in by my shoulders for a hug. “Deal,” he murmurs into my hair before sealing it with a kiss. “Now let’s go do the family thing. Everyone is very eager to meet you.”

I roll my eyes and draw in a breath through my clenched teeth as we walk up the entrance to the house. “Is everyone here already?”

“Um, my cousin Paul and his fiancée aren’t here yet, but they’re always late,” he says as he opens the door to his parents’ home and his family.

I’m first met by the aroma of cooking garlic and onions and it smells like my idea of home. The foyer opens to a formal living room decorated with warm tones and contemporary casual furniture. The squeal of a toddler deeper into the house draws my eyes to the hub of activity which is toward the back through the dining room, past the kitchen and into the family room.

We make our first stop for introductions in the kitchen. A slim, attractive woman with dark hair is stirring something on the stove, probably the garlic and onions I smell. She’s humming to herself, absorbed in her task at hand.

“Mom,” Donovan says, startling her, and she looks up from the pan. “This is Kenna.”

She slaps a hand to her chest in fright. “Oh, my. I didn’t hear you come back in.” She turns her attention to me and gives me an approving smile that touches her green eyes and reaches out to give me a quick hug. “Welcome, Kenna. It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear.” Donovan’s mom releases me from the hug as quickly as she embraced me—I’m guessing her form of a handshake. Her reaction to me puts me at ease immediately.

“Kenna, this is my mom, Connie Alexander.” Donovan finishes the introduction.

“Mrs. Alexander, it’s very nice to meet you, too. Thank you for inviting me into your home for dinner.” I present my hostess gift, the potted plant, with a smile.

“Please call me Connie, sweetheart.” She takes the plant and walks over to the sink, placing it in a space on the ledge with two other plants, like they’ve been waiting for mine. “Thank you for the lovely violet. It should be happy here in the sun. Make yourself at home, my dear. Donovan, you do the introductions, will you? Everyone’s in the family room.” She points with her delicate fingers and Donovan takes my hand, pulling me around the long kitchen island and into the family area.

The family room is also decorated in warm tones with a large beige sectional sofa enveloping the room and a large flat-screen TV on the wall. The counter from the kitchen is lined on this side with swivel chairs, dividing the two rooms, and French doors are open on the wall opposite the flat screen, which I assume is the path leading to Donovan’s guesthouse. Three male bodies line the couch and a slender blonde is on the large honey-colored shag area rug with the toddler I heard earlier. All eyes are on me when Donovan guides me into the room.

“Kenna, this is my family.” With a sweep of his hand, he introduces me down the line, and I take turns shaking everyone’s hand. No hugs from these members of his family. His mom must be the hugger of the group. My first introduction is to his father, Joseph, who appears distinguished with almost-all-white hair and light hazel eyes, similar to Donovan’s. Next to his dad is his cousin Mark, wearing a warm, welcoming smile. He seems close to Donovan’s age, maybe a little older, with thinning light-brown hair and brown eyes. Nick, Sarah’s husband, is next to Mark and he makes a funny little joke when he shakes my hand, but I’m so absorbed in trying to remember everyone’s name and face I don’t catch it. Nick is chuckling like a jolly old Santa at his joke. I just smile at him.

By the far end of the couch on the exposed area of the shag rug sits the slender blonde woman with the fair-haired toddler. “And this is Sarah and Marie.” Donovan reaches down and plucks little Marie right off the carpet and throws her high into the air and catches her in his arms. She squeals with delight and squirms in his hands. “How’s my little pumpkin doing?” he says, holding her now by the sides high above his head, and then quickly drops her back down to his waist, stopping just short of the floor and rolling her out of his grasp. She crawls to Donovan’s feet, clapping and giggling. He even has an effect on the littlest of the female persuasion.

“Hi, Sarah, It’s nice to meet you.” I reach down to her seated position and shake her hand, ending my introductions to Donovan’s father and extended family. Donovan leads me to the open section of the couch and sits down, pulling me with him.

They seem like such a normal, well-balanced family, making me insecure of the dysfunctional background I come from. Will they approve of me or see through me and know that I didn’t have the same upbringing? Donovan says they are open-minded and nonjudgmental, but I can’t imagine ever telling any of them of my childhood secrets.

Donovan’s cousin Mark is the first to open the line of questioning in my interrogation. “So how’d you two meet? Do you work at the police department, too, Kenna?”