Page 23

Nash had his arm around Jenna’s shoulders, gently pushing his foot against the porch as the swing moved easily in the breeze. It was raining. Again. As much as Arizona needed rain, Louisiana needed a bit of a dry spell.

Yet nothing stopped because of the rain. In fact, it seemed to move at the same crazy pace that it always moved.

In the last few days, Jenna seemed to open up more emotionally and physically. She was now the first one to kiss his cheek or even his lips. She was now the first to reach for his hand or arm. This was the Jenna he’d prayed for.

“Nash? Was anyone able to contact my biological mother?” she asked quietly. He knew the question was coming. He’d dodged it for days, hoping that they would convince Claudia to see her daughter.

“We did,” he said honestly. “She is doubtful that you really are her child. She’s asking her own team to look at the evidence. We all thought it was best to give her some space and time. She’s a very old woman now.”

“I see. You would think if she’s a very old woman, she would want to meet the daughter she never knew.”

“I feel the same way, honey, but I’m trying to be respectful of her feelings. It must be terrible to think of your child as gone and then suddenly find out she’s alive. Especially after all this time. I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

“I suppose,” she nodded. “I guess I had this childish dream of her hugging me and welcoming me into her life.”

“Did you have a good life? Before,” he asked.

“I did. The parents I knew, John and Mary Brooks, or Victor and Angela Portello, whoever they were, were good. I knew that things were different but never guessed as to why.

“Max and Titus said they found memory boxes belonging to my sisters and thought it was strange that they didn’t find one for me. I did have one. It was small, but it was mine. I added things to it over the years.

“They were kind to me when I would do well on a paper or contribute my babysitting money to the family fund. I think they loved me in their own way. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this, a lot. I don’t think they were kidnappers.”

“Honey, you were taken, and they had you. That, by definition, makes them at least accessories to kidnapping,” said Nash.

“Maybe, but they never hurt me, never spanked me, never yelled at me. And we didn’t live in luxury. I don’t understand that at all. If they were paid to take me, wouldn’t someone have paid them well?”

“I suppose so,” frowned Nash.

“Dad was always working two or three jobs, and Mom always worked as well. It was a hard life, but they made it a good life, and I never really noticed that they treated me differently. I was asked to take care of the girls, but that’s because I was the oldest.”

“Then you had a good life?” he asked.

“I did. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t filled with debutante balls or glamorous shopping. But I never went without a meal. I was never hit. I always had a roof over my head. I was luckier than many children.”

“This is reason four hundred and twenty-three of why I love you, Jenna. You always see the good in others. You see the good in the world.”

“Don’t you?” she asked with a sad expression.

“No. No, I don’t because I’ve seen much more of the world than you have. I’ve seen war, I’ve seen hatred, I’ve seen violence.” Nash regretted it the moment the word slipped from his lips.

“I’ve seen violence,” she whispered.

“Oh, Jenna. I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” she nodded with a pained smile. “I know you didn’t. But if that hadn’t happened to me, I would have never seen violence. If I had never seen violence, I wouldn’t be able to know what true happiness and goodness look like. I don’t wish it on anyone, but I’m glad it happened.”

“Jenna.”

“Not all of it,” she said quickly. “Obviously, not all of it. But I understand better now. Thanks to you, thanks to everyone here, I know what goodness, kindness, love, and compassion look like. I can filter my memories and emotions accordingly.”

Nash kissed her temple and held her tighter. The sun was setting over the bayou, and in spite of the zappers hanging from their porch, the mosquitoes were out in force tonight and ready to carry them away.

“Should we go inside?” she asked quietly.

“If you like,” he nodded.

“Nash. I meant, should you and I go inside for the night? Together.” Nash swallowed and nodded at her. Following her inside, he silently prayed that he wouldn’t do or say anything stupid.

“I’m nervous,” he blurted out. She smiled at him.

“Me too. I’ve heard from my very reliable sources that turning down the lights or just using candlelight can help. You won’t feel so exposed, or I should say I won’t.”

“Whatever you want, Jenna, is what we’ll do.”

Walking around the small space, she lit each candle that was available and turned off the electric lights. The room looked magical, and she had to agree with her sources. It made her feel better.

“What now?” he asked with a smile. Jenna laughed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know. My sources didn’t go much further than this. I guess we could just hold one another. In bed?”

“I think that sounds perfect,” he smiled.

Holding one another in bed turned into talking for hours on end about ridiculous subjects. What’s better, lemon cake or coconut cake? Could Batman defeat Superman? What about Iron Man and Superman? Fish or chicken?

On and on, endless bantering and laughter until she rolled to her side, facing him, and let her hands wander beneath his shirt. The rippled muscles of his abdomen and soft tufts of hair at the center of his chest made her blush.

Nash didn’t move, afraid that he’d send her running.

“Love me,” she whispered.

“I already love you, Jenna. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Show me.”

Controlling his desires was the most difficult thing Nash had ever done. After carefully removing their clothing, he explained everything that he was doing to Jenna’s body, ensuring that she didn’t panic or become afraid.

He grimaced at the scars on her body, but in fairness, she did the same with the scars on his body. Jenna might have only experienced violent sex, but her instinctual ability to know what to do and how to touch a man impressed Nash.

When the knock on her front door came, Nash thought it was the middle of the night. He looked at her sleeping face and gently rolled from the bed, slipping on his jeans.

Seeing through the glass of the front door, he could tell it was already daylight, and Ghost and Nine stood on the porch.

“Hey,” he said in a whisper. “Everything okay?”

“Sorry to wake you, but we had a message early this morning from Claudia St. Martine. She’s throwing a ball and wants Jenna and guest to attend.”

“That’s great, right?”

The two men frowned at him, shaking their heads.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ll be sending a large team with you. Get dressed and come to the offices. We need to show you what the boys have found.”