I watch her while she tilts her head to the side, assessing Carson. She doesn’t miss a beat as she says “A beer, please. Something amber, cold, and numbing.”
Carson lifts a brow. “I’ve got you.”
She smiles as he slides a dark bottle toward her. Taking a sip, I see the relief on her face as the cool liquid slides down her throat. “Thanks.”
Carson stares at her for a minute to figure out if she’s for real. Tonight she’ dressed like fucking royalty on a night out, and she just ordered an everyman’s beer. Jerking his gaze toward me, he lifts a brow.
“Wow.” He mutters the word before turning around to fix her drink.
She looks at me, a question in her eyes. “What should I have ordered?”
Chuckling under my breath, I brush a chunk of hair out of her face. She wiped away the ruined makeup in the truck, and with a fresh face she’s even more beautiful. Breath-stealing.
“You should never do anything that ain’t a hundred percent you, baby. But I think he would have expected a woman who looks like you to order some fancy cocktail.”
A silent question passes from me to her, and she scoots a little closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
I give myself a silent salute.
“Are you hungry?”
She looks like she hasn’t eaten or slept in days. She nods.
“Do you have southern food?”
Inclining my head, I cup my hand against my ear. “I’m sorry, what?”
Her cheeks flame scarlet. “Like…chicken fried chicken? With gravy? Collard greens or fried okra? Mashed potatoes?”
I stare at her for a long moment. It’s not because it’s a turnoff for her to eat like that. It’s because it’s a freaking turn-on.
Finally, I bust out laughing. “Yeah, I think we can handle that.”
“Thanks for coming to get me, Ace.” Her voice is soft and still scratchy. Hearing it makes me hurt in so many places.
“Pretty sure I’ll always come for you, angel.”
Always? Not a word I’d usually use. But it seems true.
She lifts her head and a myriad of emotions flicker across her face. “I like it…when you call me that.”
Lifting a shoulder and letting it drop, I stare toward Carson. “It’s what I call you in my head.”
Carson turns around and slides a beer across the counter for me.
Carson winks as he leans on the bar. “I pride myself on being able to read my guests.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m your nephew.”
Naima’s throaty chuckle breaks me. Carson notices my reaction, his grin growing wider by the second.
He listens while she tells him what she wants to eat, and he plugs in the order.
But then his expression grows serious. “I’m sorry about what happened to you tonight, Naima. We’re gonna figure it all out.”
She sucks in a swig of her drink through her straw, saying nothing.
We sit in silence, each of us swimming in our own thoughts while we wait for her food to arrive. When Carson sets a steaming plate in front of her, her eyes grow wide and a huge smile breaks out across her face.
Carson and I exchange a grin because that’s what she does to me. She makes me happy, every single time I’ve seen her in the short amount of time I’ve known her. And happiness isn’t a familiar emotion for e…not at all.
I’m glad I’m not the only one affected by her. Carson’s grin tells me h thinks she’s amazing, too. It’s clear she’s won my uncle over already.
She eats like someone enjoying their last meal, although she cuts every piece into miniscule bites and still winces every single time she swallows. She doesn’t let the pain discourage her, though, finishing the entire plate before she finally glances over at me and smiles.
I’m without words, so I just watch. When she finishes, I indicate her bruised neck, a sight that still sends fingers of fury tapping at my nerves.
I’ve never thought of myself as a protector. I could never protect my mother from herself, and it was really hard to protect myself from her and her issues. But everything inside of me shouts at me to take care of this woman. No matter what.
“We need to get some more ice on that. And if it feels worse tomorrow, I’m taking you to the hospital, regardless of the cop threat. I want you better, period.”
She pushes her plate away and nods, once again leaning her head on my shoulder. The soft weight of her feels so good, and I can’t keep myself from pulling her closer.
Carson returns, looking at me with a grin on his face that I’m assuming is because of my current position. I’m about to ask him if he’s heard anything tonight when the front door behind me opens. His face goes dark. It’s an expression that I know better than any other, and he only looks like that when he’s dealing with one person.
I know without looking that my mom has just walked into The Corner.
It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. Carson’s gaze is frozen on the doorway, and I’m scared to turn around. Not because I’m afraid of her, but because nothing good ever comes from Kara Wells being around. Usually something really bad comes from it.
Soft fingers curl around mine. Naima’s hair brushes against my face as she lifts her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Ace, but whatever it is…I’m right here.”
A sharp intake of breath, a quick glance at her face. Her serious expression has concern written in it. One look is all it takes to man up and turn around, squeezing her hand hard in my own.
I stand, puling Naima up beside me, but the picture my mom makes inside the bar slams into me hard. I almost stagger backward. Because she’s not alone.
She’s standing there with the man I put in the hospital last week. His face is still a map of yellowish bruises, and there’s a bandage
