Beauty from Pain by Beauty from pain

Author:Beauty from pain
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2013-04-28T22:00:00+00:00

I force a smile. “It’s perfect and I love it. Thank you.” I take it out of the box and pass it to him. “Will you?” I turn and lift my hair so he can put it on me.

After he closes the clasp, he kisses the back of my neck.

“I wish I could stay with you all day.”

I turn around and touch the pendant with my fingertip. “Me too.” He smiles as he admires his gift around my neck. “I’ll try to get back early.”

“Early or late, either way, I’ll be here.”

“I still don’t want you to go into the water without me.”

“Ugh! There’s a country song called ‘Don’t Go Near the Water.’ Now it’s going to be stuck in my head all day and I hate that freakin’ song. Thanks a lot, slick.” He kisses the top of my head. “Don’t know it, but you can thank me every time you catch yourself singing it.”

He’s wearing a suit today. Damn, he’s hot in it—scorching hot. He’s standing over me and I grab the lapels of his jacket to pull him down for a kiss. The peck he gave me on top of my head wasn’t near enough to do me all day. When I let him go, I tell him, “That’s your incentive to work fast so you can leave early and come back to me.”

–––––

I spend the day reading on the beach, not swimming in the water, although it’s hot as hell. It’s midafternoon and I decide to take a break from the sweltering heat, so I go into the house for a snack and some air conditioning.

I’m sitting at the dining room table having some leftover fruit from my birthday breakfast when my personal phone rings. It’s my mom, no doubt calling to wish me a happy birthday.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Happy birthday, baby girl.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you having a good one?”

“The best.” And it is. I’m staying at a house on a private beach in New Zealand with a beautiful man I can’t get enough of. Nothing beats this.

“Well, I’ve got some news that’s going to make it even better.” Her idea of good news and my idea aren’t always the same. “What is it?”

“It’s your dad. He came to see me, baby. He wants to meet you.” This is a perfect example of when our ideas of good news are on two different spectrums.

“Why?”

“Because you’re his daughter.”

I would’ve given anything to hear those words when I was a child. All I wanted was for my rich and famous father to rescue me from her when I was surviving off tap water and moldy bread because she was too strung out to go to the grocery store. I prayed he’d come and save me, but he didn’t. “He hasn’t wanted me as his daughter for twenty-three years, and he doesn’t get to change his mind now because the only child he claimed is dead.”

“It’s not like that, Laurie.”

“It is like that, Mom. I’ve been his dirty little secret all these years.

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