Beth Michele - Scarred Beautiful

It’s midnight, and the lobby is scarce, the only exception being the tanned, bottle-blonde behind the registration desk and an elderly couple walking to the elevator.

Fran stops and addresses Caleb and Peyton. “Listen, I just want to apologize again for ruining the night.”

“You didn’t ruin the night, Fran. Peyton and I still had fun while you were gone,” he teases, knocking Fran’s arm playfully. “Seriously, sweet-cakes, it’s fine. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

Caleb gives Fran a kiss on the cheek and Peyton hugs her, whispering something in her ear, and then they take off to do whatever it is they’re “temporarily” doing.

I latch onto her hand at the same time we hear a crashing noise. She immediately pulls away, running toward a frail, gray-haired woman who has fallen, her walker tipped over on its side. Fran bends down and clasps her elbow, helping her rise to a full stand before placing her fragile hands back on the arms of the walker that she places upright in front of her.

“Can I help you get to your room?” Fran asks, turning to what I assume is the husband, his eyes filled with both worry and gratitude.

“No, thank you, dear,” he replies in a shaky voice, “but thank you for noticing we needed help and not walking on by.”

Fran’s mouth pulls up in a smile as the old woman lifts a trembling hand to her cheek.

“Such a darling girl. Thank you,” she utters, her voice cracking, “you have a good heart.”

Truer words were never spoken.

Fran keeps her head on my shoulder the entire ride up to her room, her arm entwined with mine.

“Sleepy, sunshine?” I ask, basking in the smell of jasmine floating in the air.

“Hmmm…,” she replies, her eyelids fluttering closed, a dreamy smile on her lips.

We stop just outside of her door and she rests against it, sliding her hand down my arm and her fingers between my own.

“So I’m going to visit my mom tomorrow in Santa Barbara. She’s staying at a friend’s house,” she tells me through a wide yawn, “I’m leaving during the lunch break.”

“Oh? Do you want some company?” I ask, looking down at our hands and hoping she’ll say yes.

“Normally, I would, but I want to spend some time with her. We haven’t seen each other in a while and we have a lot to talk about, but…thank you.” Her slumberous eyes meet mine and a sweet smile curls her lips.

“Sure,” I reply, trying not to sound or look as disappointed as I feel. “Wait. How are you getting there?”

“I’m going to rent a car. It’s only a little over an hour from here,” she says casually, toying with my fingers.

“You can take my car,” I offer, surprising even myself with my spur of the moment decision.

“What? No. I couldn’t possibly take your baby,” she kids. “That’s your pride and joy.”

“Seriously, I want you to take it. I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe.”

She narrows her gaze, her dark brows pulling in. “What’s happening to your tight-assedness?”

“Tight-assedness? I’m not sure Webster would approve of that word.” I chuckle, plucking at her hand. “You know, I wasn’t always a tight-ass,” I volunteer unexpectedly, feeling the need to explain, wanting her to understand.

“HA!” she barks out, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“It’s true.” The mood around us shifts suddenly and I pause to find the words. “When my mom died, I felt my whole world come crashing down, but Brad began to spin out of control and I had to watch out for him, and Clara, too. My dad was no help; he was too lost in his grief. So, I…I don’t know. I felt like the only way I could handle things was if I was sure they were in order, it was the only thing that gave me any sense of control over my life.”

She cups my cheek with her hand, sending an empathetic smile my way. “Matt, if anyone can understand that, it’s definitely me. I get it, you know. You do what you have to do to survive.”

Except I don’t want to just survive anymore.

“Well, I guess I should go so you can get some rest,” I say hesitantly, taking a step closer, her warm hand remaining on my cheek, and I circle her nose with my own.

Shy green eyes look back at me with a careful gaze as she bites her bottom lip. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you did for me tonight.”

“Fran,” I reply, meeting that soft gleam in her eye, “I really didn’t do anything. You’re the one that bared yourself to me in such a brave way. You’re stronger than you realize…and you’re a survivor.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “We both are.”

I study her face, the wonder of it, of her, and the emotion overwhelms me. “But it’s time to do more than that now. It’s time to live.” My knuckle slides down her cheek and she blinks. “Do you know who showed me that?” She shakes her head, unaware of the effect she has on me. “You did.”

She lifts her chin, offering her mouth up to me and I don’t need to be asked twice.

I watch her lashes spill across her cheeks before our lips come together, starting out as a soft brush but turning into so much more. She parts for me, her tongue seeking out mine, flicking it back and forth, the feel like velvet stirring a groan to rip through my chest and hunger to take over. I’m trying to go slow, but the smell of vanilla mixed with the warmth of her mouth and the feel of her pressed up against me spurs me on until my hands are in her hair, angling her head so I can penetrate her mouth, taking as much as she’s willing to give. She whimpers when I suck on her tongue and the sweet sound travels to my cock, now straining against my jeans.

Reluctantly, I break the kiss, the pounding of my chest and my hard-on a dead giveaway to my desire for her. “Fran….” I let out a jagged breath. “I should stop now or I won’t be able to stop at all.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She looks up at me with those lustful green eyes and my resistance threatens to crack in half.

“Fran,” I whisper into her neck, “we’re both exhausted and I want you wide awake when I’m exploring you.” And that gets her attention.

She brings her head to my chest and exhales, making it apparent that stopping this is as hard for her as it is for me. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

I reach down and tilt her chin up, landing a chaste kiss on her lips. “That’s what you do to me…among other things.” I smirk, finally tearing myself away from her.

“To be continued,” she says with a seductive smile and a crimson flush on her cheeks.

“Oh, you can bank on that, sunshine. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I have to summon every bit of willpower from the gods to keep walking and not sprint back to her, the only place I want to be. Instead, I’m going back to my room to get myself off again, while visions of Fran in her black bra and panties dance in my head, and I’m not talking about the one attached to my neck.

Peyton corners me by the buffet table during the lunch break. I ran late this morning and we haven’t had a chance to catch up from last night. “Are you okay? What happened last night?”

I let out a relaxed sigh, setting my briefcase down beside me and leaning a hand on the table. “Caleb said something that set me off. It wasn’t his fault. It’s just something my dad used to say to me and it forced a lot of bad memories to the surface.”

“I had a feeling it had something to do with your dad,” she says, her lips pulling down into a frown, “Caleb felt so awful last night, but I’m glad Matt went after you.”

“Yeah, me, too,” I tell her honestly, and I really am. “He was so supportive, especially after I showed him my scars.” I’m still letting everything that happened last night sink in and a part of me thinks it had to be a dream. I feel stronger today, like I can get through this. I can overcome.

“Ah, so I was right about him, was I?” she says with a cheeky grin and a lift of her brow.

“Yes, Peyton. You were right. He was…amazing.”

“Good. It’s nice to be right about something for a change. Lord knows I can’t please my mom in that department. Although, I talked to my dad this morning and he was so wonderful it’s hard to believe they’re married.” She cackles and her head falls back, her wavy locks tumbling down her shoulders. “What should we do later?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. My mom is in Santa Barbara and I’m actually headed there now to spend some time with her. Matt said I could take his car,” I add, a pleased smile appearing on my lips.

Her brown eyes widen in shock, and her mouth follows. “Holy shit!” she exclaims, “He’s letting you take his car?”

“Yes, he is,” a smooth voice says from behind her, both of us turning to find Matt looming just a few feet away.

My cheeks heat and an even bigger smile stretches my mouth. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. You ready?” He comes forward and holds out his hand to me, and I reach down and pick up my briefcase before taking it.

“I’ll see you later, Peyton.”

As we’re heading out, I glance back to see her grinning a cat-like smile, and I send a happy wink her way.

* * *

“I don’t mind telling you I’m scared to death to drive your car, Dixon. What if something happens to it?” I ask, my eyes going back and forth between Matt and his toy.

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Fran. You’ll be fine. It’s just a car,” he replies, but his Adam’s apple bobs as he takes a hard swallow and I know this is difficult for him.

“I want you to know I realize how hard this is for you and I really appreciate it.” I kiss his cheek before leaning back against the car.

He places a hand beside me and inches closer. “Just drive safely and text me when you get there.”

I clasp his arm, conveying a smile of reassurance. “I promise your car will be fine.”

He brushes his fingers across my temple, a batch of goose bumps flaring up on my skin. “It’s not my car I’m worried about.” He presses his lips to mine, lingering just enough for me to smell cinnamon on his breath.

“You smell like cinnamon or something. What have you been eating?”

“One of those sticky buns from the buffet,” he confesses with a childlike grin, lacing his fingers with mine.

“Yum. I’d love one of those for the road, but I don’t think it would be good for your upholstery.”

“Nah. I’d tend to agree with you on that one,” he says, his lips twitching in response. “So…maybe I’ll see you tonight if you don’t get back too late.”

“I think that can be arranged.” I’m positive that I want to see him. In fact, I want to do a lot more than just see him.

He walks me around to the driver’s side and holds the door open. Once I’m tucked inside, he bends forward and props his elbows on the window frame. “Have fun.” He gives me one more quick peck before backing away reluctantly, his hands shoved deep in his pockets looking for something to do.

I wave one last time before I watch his figure disappear in the rearview mirror, my stomach twisting in knots, and I know with absolute certainty that whatever this is we’re doing means something. I just don’t know what the hell that is yet.

* * *

The drive to Santa Barbara is picturesque; an eclectic mix of long stretches of beach, cottage-style shops, and quaint art galleries. This is so far removed from the rush of LA and I love it. There aren’t throngs of people everywhere, nor are there congested highways filled with cars. People are out for casual strolls or sitting outside cafes enjoying the sunshine and a good meal. The creative side of me wants to go explore the shops, check out all the local artists, and be a tourist for a change.

I feel surprisingly at peace today, especially after last night. My heart beats a little bit faster at Matt’s unique ability to, in many ways, set me free. I hope to do that for Mom today, to finally rid her of the tremendous burden that has plagued her, the anchor of guilt weighting her down, not allowing her to truly move on with her life. As a child it was hard to understand, but I can clearly see now that there was no way she could have known what my father was doing to me. She was paralyzed by her own fear, not to mention the amount of time she spent outside the house working to support us. Even when she was around, my father insisted on being the one to supervise my bath-times, always counting on my absolute fear of him preventing me from ever telling her or anyone else the truth—until the day he made the mistake of passing out drunk and she made the discovery on her own, one that changed our lives forever.