Rowan had built an incredible support system for himself after his parents failed him. While she’d cut herself off from the world.
“That he did. You wouldn’t recognize Conrad from the high school photos. He was gangly and wore glasses back then, but he was a brilliant guy and he knew it. Folks called him Mr. Wall Street, because of his dad and how Conrad used his trust fund to manipulate the stock market to punish sweatshop businesses.”
“You all may have been misfits, but it appears you share a need for justice.”
“We didn’t all get along at first. I was different from them, though, or so I liked to tell myself. I didn’t come from money like most of the guys there—or like you—and I wasn’t inordinately talented like Douglas. I thought I was better than those overprivileged brats.”
“Yet, Conrad must respect you to have invested so much money to start the clinic.”
“If we’re going to be honest—” he laughed softly “—I’m where I am today because of a cookie.”
“A cookie?” She tipped her head back to the warm sunshine, soaking in the heat of the day and the strength of the man beside her.
“My mom used to send me these care packages full of peanut-butter cookies with M&M’s baked into them.” His eyes took on a faraway look and a fond smile.
Mari could only think that same mother had sent him to that school in his brother’s place. Those cookies must have tasted like dust in light of such a betrayal from the woman who should have protected him. She bit back the urge to call his mother an unflattering name and just listened, ocean wind rustling her hair.
“One day, I was in my bunk, knocking back a couple of those cookies while doing my macro biology homework.” He toyed with the end of her scarf. “I looked up to find Conrad staring at those cookies like they were caviar. I knew better than to offer him one. His pride would have made him toss it back in my face.”
She linked fingers with him and squeezed as he continued, her cheek against the warm cotton of his shirt, her ear taking in the steady thrum of his heart.
“We were all pretty angry at life in those days. But I had my cookies and letters from Mom to get me through the days when I didn’t think I could live with the guilt of what I’d done.”
What his family had done. His mother, father and his brother. Why couldn’t he see how they’d sacrificed him?
“But back to Conrad. About a week later, I was on my way to the cafeteria and I saw him in the visitation area with his dad. I was jealous as hell since my folks couldn’t afford to fly out to visit me—and then I realized he and his dad were fighting.”
“About what?” She couldn’t help but ask, desperate for this unfiltered look into the teenage Rowan, hungry for insights about what had shaped him into the man he’d become.
“From what Conrad shouted, it was clear his father wanted him to run a scam on Troy’s parents and convince them to invest in some bogus company or another. Conrad decked his dad. It took two security guards to pull him off.”
Hearing the things that Rowan and his friends had been through as teens, she felt petty for her anger over her own childhood. The grief Rowan and his friends had faced, the storms in their worlds, felt so massive in comparison to her own. She had two parents that loved her, two homes, and yes, she was shuttled back and forth, but in complete luxury.
“And the cookie?”
“I’m getting there.” He sketched his fingers up and down her bare arm. “Conrad spent a couple of days in the infirmary—his dad hit him back and dislocated Conrad’s shoulder. The cops didn’t press charges on the old man because the son threw the first punch. Anyhow, Conrad’s first day out of the infirmary, I felt bad for him so I wrapped a cookie in a napkin and put it on his bunk. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t toss it back in my face, either.” He threw his hands wide. “And here I am today.”
Her heart hurt so badly she could barely push words out. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t know. I just want you to understand why my work is so important to me, so much so that I couldn’t have kept Issa even if her family didn’t come through. Because if I start keeping every orphan that tugs at my emotions, I won’t be able to sustain all I’ve fought so hard to build. The clinic…it’s everything to me. It helps me fill the hole left by Dylan’s death, helps me make up for the lives lost.”
She heard him, heard an isolation in his words in spite of all those friends. He’d committed himself to a life of service that left him on a constant, lonely quest. And right then and there, her soul ached for him.
She slid her hand up into his hair, guiding his mouth to hers. He stepped between her knees, and she locked her arms around his neck. Tight. Demanding and taking.
“Now,” she whispered against his mouth, fishing in his back pocket for a condom.
He palmed her knees apart and she purred her approval. Her fingers made fast work of his swim trunks, freeing his erection and sheathing him swiftly, surely.
She locked her legs around his waist and drew him in deeper. He drove into her again and again. She angled back, gripping the bar, bracelets sliding down to collect along her hand. He took in the beauty of her, her smooth skin, pert br**sts, her head thrown back and hair swaying with every thrust. The boat rocked in a rhythm that matched theirs as his shouts of completion twined and mingled with hers, carried on the breeze.
In that moment she felt connected to him more than physically. She identified with him, overwhelmed by an understanding of him being as alone in the world as her. But also hammered by a powerlessness to change that. His vision and walls were as strong as hers, always had been. Maybe more so.
What a time to figure out she might have sacrificed too much for her work—only realizing that now, as she fell for a man who would sacrifice anything for his.
* * *
The taste of the sea, sweat and Mari still clinging to his skin, Rowan opened the door to their suite the next morning, praying the return to land and real life wouldn’t bring on the crushing sense of loss. He’d hoped to distract her from Issa—and also find some way to carve out a future for them. They were both dedicated to their work. They could share that, even in their disagreements. They could use that as a springboard to work out solutions. Together. His time with her overnight on the sailboat had only affirmed that for him.
He just hoped he’d made a good start in persuading Mari of the same thing.