Read Online Wound Up by Kelli Ireland - Free Book Online

waffles.”

5
    J USTIN HOPPED OFF the28 bus and, shoulders hunched, started up the sidewalk. Though it was only a couple of blocks to his mom’s, the walk through this neighborhood could be a little dicey. The area was rough, but it wasn’t particularly violent during the day. That didn’t mean it couldn’t be under the right circumstances, though.
    Levi had offered to drop him off when Justin had returned the car, but he wanted time to think before he walked through into his childhood home for the traditional Sunday supper. He knew his family would sense his mood and ask him what was wrong. He wasn’t quite ready to answer those questions. Not with Grace’s fresh, clean scent still flooding his nose and those accusing green eyes filling his mind. It was hard to piece together exactly how they’d ended up exchanging such vitriolic words and letting something with so much potential go up in spectacular flames.
    It was the worst possible reminder of who he’d been—the kid with potential who never quite got it right. Was he still that same kid? Would he never outgrow the impulses that led him to screw things up just when the perfect opportunity presented itself? Would he never be able to hold his damn tongue when someone seriously pissed him off? If he couldn’t manage these basic human decencies, he was destined to fail at whatever he tried to do or be.
    Justin strode up the front walk as he had a thousand times before. Sounds from the television leaked through ancient caulking around the windows, and the CBS Sunday-morning news anchor’s distinctive voice was followed by dramatic music and a second reporter’s voice. The front door stuck when Justin twisted the knob, forcing him to put his shoulder into it. He’d have to fix that. The last thing his mom needed was having to muscle open the door after she’d been on her feet for ten straight hours, waiting tables all night.
    “That you, baby boy?” she called from the kitchen.
    “Nope.”
Crap, the kitchen.
Yep. She was going to want to talk. Not yet, not yet, not y—
    “Step into my office, sweetheart.”
    Resigned, he dumped his messenger bag on the sofa. The smells of lemon oil and fabric softener were subtle but pervasive, clean scents that comforted him. Pausing in the doorway, he watched as his mom made coffee with absolute economy of motion. She still wore her black pants and white shirt from the diner, but she’d exchanged her sneakers for slippers.
Such a beautiful woman
, he thought.
Such a hard life
. But it had been that way for all of them after his old man had been killed sixteen years ago, and he hadn’t made it any easier by finding ways to express his grief through a life half-lived on the streets.
    Glancing over her shoulder, she tipped her chin toward the table. “I watched you walk up—one of those nights at the club, hmm? Have a seat, even though you didn’t call to let me know you were coming today.”
    He slid into his chair and balanced on the two rear legs, hands crossed over his belly. “I don’t think my forgetting to call in for Sunday supper reservations constitutes a kitchen inquisition, does it?”
    “Depends on whether or not you make me break out the thumb screws.”
    “Funny lady.” She set a cup of coffee in front of him, the color a deep caramel, and he sighed. “You know, I’ll be certain I’ve found the woman for me when she can make coffee as well as you can.” He lifted the mug to his lips and, at the same time, they both said, “Dollop of love.”
    Laughing, she pulled up a seat. “So, what happened?”
    “Club was fine. Then I had a...date. Typical kiss-the-girl stuff.”
    “Pretty story. Now tell me the truth.”
    Justin fought the urge to squirm. “No story. She’s just a woman.”
    He hated the way her shoulders visibly relaxed, hated that he had caused her to fear he’d taken a huge step backward into his previous life of violence. Her fear was well warranted, though, seeing as he’d spent