Page 88 of She Belongs to Me

“Maybe one day my home can feel that way to you. I’m many things, Alexandra. You likely have called me an asshole more than once but I’m not an ogre. I will enjoy sitting in the audience the day you graduate with your medical degree. No matter what city or country you’re in.”

“You’d let me go?”

“You’re not my prisoner.” Even though at this moment, she was and we both knew it.

“You have a funny way of showing it.” There was a slight lilt to her voice, but I could tell she was also partially serious. She had her elbow on her knee, her head in her hand, and was observing the horses as they nibbled on grass.

I wasn’t the kind of guy to become but so infatuated with anyone, but with her, caring and needing was so damn easy.

Far too easy.

Another moment of quiet settled between us. I’d wanted her to relax, to ask goofy questions, but her life had been full of serious moments. Did I really expect she could let go of all the horrors? Not possible.

“Was my father a good man?”

I knew sooner or later she’d start asking questions about him. She really never had before. I’d made certain she’d had a couple of boxes of his things but I’d never asked if she’d gone through them. I had my own, and I certainly hadn’t gone through the contents since bringing it back with me.

Inside her boxes were also photographs of her mother as well as the couple. Alexandra deserved to see their happiness. Greg’s personality was a touchy subject for me, but one that had to be faced. “He was the best guy in the world. I was a bit of the troublemaker in college, always trying to get him to stay at a bar or chase women. He was the studious one. I asked him one day why he couldn’t just live a little, enjoying life as a twenty-one-year-old.”

There was such curiosity in her eyes, both darting back and forth across mine. “He was like me.”

“Oh, very much so. He told me that he was going to be president of the United States one day and to get there, he had to be serious. He couldn’t have any blemishes on his record.” At least the memories were good ones. “He made me a better student, which pleased my Pops.”

“I’ll bet.”

“And the way he was with my mom?” She’d turned slightly in my direction, which was good. She was loosening up.

“That was the one distraction he couldn’t get enough of. The day he met your mother he changed. He was consumed with asking her out. When she didn’t agree the first two times, he made it his mission to get her to say yes. God, he got so goofy. I used to tease him hard.”

Her laugh was far too sultry, my cock pushing hard against my jeans. “I guess he won in the end.”

“Not without sending her flowers at least four times, and get this. He stood outside her dorm room singing to her. I didn’t know the guy had a voice, but it was an incredible performance. What woman could resist a man after he’d possibly humiliated himself in front of an entire building and everyone walking by?”

Alexandra said nothing at first. I was surprised seeing a slight blush creep up both cheeks. “Would you humiliate yourself for a girl?”

Oh, boy. She was pulling out the stops. “I might be a little old, but yes. I would. I’ve heard finding the right person is magical and you don’t want anyone else in your life after that. That’s what your father experienced and eventually your mother fell hard too. They were a perfect couple.”

“Perfect,” she repeated. “I don’t know if there is such a thing.”

“Believe in some fantasies, Alexandra. It’ll do your soul good.”

At least she seemed more engaged.

“What did you always want to be when you were little?” she asked.

Now I laughed and felt much lighter. The elephant in the room had been discussed.

“A horse trainer. I loved horses, but my father helped me realize that producing our harvest, knowing that other people were enjoying what we’d taken years to painstakingly grow was more to my liking. That was before I knew what he did in the shadows.”

“We all want to believe in the fairytale. Don’t we?” Alexandra finally looked back at me. “Then you learn the boogeyman does exist and the fantasy can never be real.”

For someone so young, she was far too jaded. I took the wine from her hand, placing both glasses on a flatter area of grass. When I pushed her down, partially allowing my weight on her body, she reacted instantly by palming my chest.

There were a few tears in her eyes, memories of her childhood and what she hadn’t been allowed to experience weighing heavily on her mind.

“I understand your feelings.”

“How could you?”