Holding Strong
Page 81

 Lori Foster

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Knowing Merissa needed to head out the door, and that she only had a few more minutes herself, Cherry decided it was best to just say it. “Because he wants to keep me safe.”
A very slow eye blink, followed by a dry, “Yeah,” and a patronizing hand pat made up Merissa’s reply. “That’s what all that moaning and groaning was about last night.”
“That was sex,” Cherry stated. “And we both know guys are easy.” Only Denver hadn’t been. Not even close.
He’d been so difficult that there were times she’d almost given up. But she flat-out cared about him too much to do that.
Merissa searched her face. “You’re serious?”
Dreading explanations, especially since neither of them had time for it, Cherry said, “It’s my stupid foster brothers.”
To her surprise, Merissa nodded. “Yeah, Cannon told me.”
Oh God. Shame sent a wave of heat burning through her. Did the whole world know the ugliness of her past?
“Don’t sweat it, okay?” Merissa squeezed her hand again, this time in commiseration. “The only people who know are your friends, and friends don’t judge.”
Friends, plural. “Who?”
“Me, Yvette, the guys—”
“Guys?” she squeaked. It was bad enough that her girlfriends knew.
Shrugging, Merissa said, “Yeah, you know, Stack, Armie, Miles, Brand, Gage—”
Horrified, she moaned, “Nooo.”
“Hey, stop that.” Her wail made Merissa frown. “We care about you, Cherry. You’re one of us, part of this big, insane, goofy family and that means your problems are our problems.”
She didn’t want them to suffer her problems, damn it! “You and Cannon are the only two related.”
“So? Blood ties mean next to nothing. I know without a single doubt that if I needed help I could count on any of the guys, Armie included, even though he acts like he doesn’t like me for some reason.” She tipped her head, encouraging Cherry with a smile. “You’re the sister I never had. If you don’t feel the same, tough. I’m keeping you anyway.”
How had she gotten so lucky? Emotional overload had her softly confessing, “The best decision I ever made was moving to Warfield, Ohio.”
“And rooming with me?”
“That was the best of the good decisions.” Deciding a little honesty was in order, she said, “And I’m thrilled to have you for my sister. Thank you.”
For a moment, both of them just enjoyed the candid friendship. Then Merissa sighed. “So you think Denver is playing big, bad protector?”
“I know he is.”
“Then surely you know why, right?” Without waiting for Cherry’s opinion, Merissa stood from the table and pulled her purse strap over her shoulder. “Because he cares.”
Afraid to believe that, just in case it proved wrong, Cherry asked, “How can you tell?”
“I’ve known Denver longer than you. Trust me on this, okay?”
She and Denver sounded the same. But not everything was about trust. Some things, she knew, were about survival. Independence. Responsibility.
And caring enough not to draw others into the mess of your life.
Pausing next to her chair, Merissa put her hand on Cherry’s shoulder. “We’re both supposed to be on guard until things are resolved. I had to cross my heart and swear to report any and every sound that might spook me.”
Cherry could almost picture Cannon giving that lecture. “Your brother is pretty terrific.”
“Yeah, he is.” Bending down, Merissa gave her a hug. “I’ve gotta run. Try not to fret too much, not about that loony foster family or Denver’s feelings. I have a hunch everything is going to work out just right.”
Wishing she could share that belief, Cherry finished her coffee and grabbed up her own purse. When she stepped outside, she realized storms were moving in again. Instead of being greeted with a blue sky, fluffy white clouds and sunshine, she got hit with angry, humid winds that immediately curled her hair. Off in the distance, a flash of lightning lined the gray horizon.
“Great. Just freaking great.” Rushing to her car in hopes of getting to the day care before the skies opened up, she hopped in, put the key in the ignition, and...nothing. Not even a pretense of starting. “No, no, no.”
Trying again—and again—got her the same results. She dropped her head to the steering wheel, thought about calling Denver, and immediately scrapped that idea.