Bedroom Secrets. Michelle Celmer

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      “So, Tina DeLuca, tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”

      “I grew up in Philly,” she said.

      “With your aunt?”

      “Yeah, after my mom got sick. When she died two years later, Aunt Louise became my permanent guardian.”

      “How did your mom die?”

      “She had ALS—Lou Gehrig’s Disease.”

      He put his fork down. “I’m sorry.”

      He looked truly saddened by it. What saddened Tina the most was that so many memories of her mother had faded over the years until all that was left were vague impressions. “Aunt Louise was really good to me. That’s why, when she had her stroke, I wanted to help take care of her. I was only twelve, but I started cooking and cleaning. When I was seventeen she had her second stroke and needed round-the-clock care. I dropped out of school to stay with her.”

      He took a sip of coffee, then picked up his fork and returned to his breakfast with gusto. He ate with the enthusiasm of a man who hadn’t had a decent meal in months. To say she was flattered was a major understatement. She was just glad she could do something nice for him. He’d practically saved her life, giving her a job and a place to stay. She shuddered to think where she would be right now if not for Mae’s kindness and Ty’s good nature.

      “Did you ever finish high school?” he asked.

      “I never went back, but I got my GED, and I took some on-line college courses in my spare time. For several years the Internet was my only outlet to the outside world. My cousin Ray promised me that when Aunt Louise died, he would give me the house and half of the money. I didn’t do it for the money, though. She did so much for me and my mom, I wanted to give that back to her.”

      “But he lied,” Ty said.

      She nodded. “Two weeks after she died there was a for sale sign in the window, and he was asking me to be ‘nice’ to him.”

      “Sleazy bastard,” he muttered.

      “I told him no way, and he told me I didn’t have a choice, I belonged to him, and he was going to take what was rightfully his.”

      “Did he…?”

      “He tried. But I…stopped him.”

      “Stopped him?”

      She caught her lip between her teeth. “You’re going to laugh.”

      “I swear, I wouldn’t laugh about something like that.”

      “I, um, hit him over the head. With a frying pan.”

      The corners of Ty’s mouth twitched.

      “A cast-iron frying pan,” she added.

      He was trying really hard now not to smile.

      “He was chasing me around the house, but he’s really fat so I was a lot faster than him. I ran into the kitchen, grabbed the pan off the stove, and when he barged in after me, I clobbered him. The pan made a loud bong against his head and he landed so hard the whole house shook. It was kind of like something out of a Road Runner cartoon.”

      The amusement that had been tugging at his lips disappeared. “I guess it does sound funny when you think about it, but I’m sure it wasn’t at the time. You must have been really scared.”

      “No, I was more disgusted than anything. I was scared after I hit him. At first I thought he was dead. When I realized he was still breathing, I knew he’d be really mad when he woke up. He’d call the police and they would probably take his side. I stuffed a couple of things in my bag, grabbed what money I had saved and got out of Dodge. I had a couple of leads on my father and figured it was the time to look. But the money went a lot faster than I thought it would. And here I am.”

      “And all your stuff is still in Philly?”

      “I’m sure if I try to go back and get it, he’ll have me arrested for assault.”

      “After sexually assaulting you, I doubt he’d be dumb enough to file charges against you.” He balled his napkin and dropped it on his empty plate. “Breakfast was really good. Thanks.”

      He smiled at her and she went all warm and mushy inside. She wondered if he knew how gorgeous he was.

      There was no way he couldn’t know.

      “You’re half Italian,” he said. “What’s the other half?”

      “My mom said my father was Hispanic.”

      “You never met him?”

      “He doesn’t even know about me. My mom met him while he was on leave after boot camp. They only spent a weekend together, but she said she loved him enough for a lifetime. She said he gave her the most precious gift in the world. Me.”

      “She told you all this?”

      “No, I read it in her journal after she died. When she got sick, she started writing every day about her life, so I would never forget her. She gave it to my aunt to give to me when I turned thirteen.”

      “What did you say your father’s name is?”

      “Martin Lopez.”

      He stood, carrying his plate to the dishwasher. “And you say you traced him here?”

      “I found a Martin Lopez. I just don’t know if he’s the right Martin Lopez. All I know is his name, what year he was born, that he was born in Texas, and he was in the army and finished boot camp nine months before I was born.”

      Ty refilled his coffee cup. “That’s a lot to go on.”

      “You would think so, but you wouldn’t believe how many men are named Martin Lopez.”

      “If he was in the army, can’t you find him through old military records?”

      “The army isn’t exactly free with the information. You would have thought I was a Russian spy or something. But after two years of research, I narrowed it down to three possibilities. The first two weren’t him. The third looked promising, but the address I had is an old one. Someone different lives there now and they said the Lopezes didn’t leave a forwarding address, but they were pretty sure they live nearby. I looked in the phone book, but he’s not listed. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

      Ty leaned against the edge of the counter, one foot crossed over the other, looking like a blond god. His jeans were relaxed fit, his flannel shirt on the loose side, but she knew first-hand the sculpted physique all that fabric hid. She’d thought about it a lot last night after she’d settled in. She’d lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Ty. She felt godawful for using the pepper spray on him, but she remembered the way his arms had felt wrapped around her in the shower. Solid and sure, but not intimidating. The memory of his hand cupping her breast had caused little tingles in the pit of her stomach.

      But he was older СКАЧАТЬ