She handed me the sandwich after checking it. “Well, you got your way last night, so I’m getting my way this morning.”

A slow grin crossed my face. “You enjoyed it.”

Paisley stilled against my body. “That’s embarrassing.”

Tossing the sandwich back on the island, I turned her around and bent down to look directly in her eyes. “Did you enjoy it, yes or no? Because if you didn’t, tell me now, Paisley, and I’ll never do that to you again.”

Her cheeks flushed again and she looked away for a second. “I did, I just—I don’t know how to feel about the fact that I did. Like I said, it’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” I begged her. “It felt good for you, and I loved watching you come undone in my arms—that’s all that matters.”

“Still embarrassing,” she muttered as she turned back around and grabbed for her own sandwich.

“You’ll beg for it one day,” I assured her.

“Eli!”

“What?”

“I would really like to eat, and I’m not going to be able to if you keep talking about that.”

I was glad she couldn’t see me smiling. Picking up my food, I unwrapped it and held it in front of her for her to take the first bite before taking my own.

“Pay, can I ask you something?” I asked when I’d finished my food.

She turned around and leaned against the island, and just raised an eyebrow as she chewed.

“Why do you get on me for cussing?”

Her expression fell and she worked at swallowing as she turned and grabbed for her coffee.

“When we were younger I thought you were a prude, but then as we got older I thought it was just more of a running joke for us. It wasn’t until you cussed at me at the bar, and then everything went to shit, that I thought it might be something else. And I was just wondering if there was a reason.”

She laughed hesitantly. “It is more of a joke now, but I still don’t like it.” I stood there waiting for her to continue, and after a couple minutes, she took a deep breath in and shrugged. “My dad was an alcoholic. It wasn’t like he’d drink every night, thank God. But twice a week maybe? And when he drank, he drank enough to put ten men out for the night. Whatever he’d gone out to buy, he’d finish all of it every time. Mom hated that he drank, said he was blowing our money and trying to kill himself. She’d always start cussing at him. He hated cussing, and she knew it . . . but she’d keep throwing out words like she was goading him or something. Because he’d just yell louder and louder, telling her to stop cussing until he started throwing things at her or hitting her. And he’d hit her until one of them was unconscious.”

“Paisley,” I whispered, horrified. “How did I not know about this?”

Her brown eyes darted up to mine. “The funny thing about all this? He’s a pastor, or was; I don’t know what he’s doing anymore. I haven’t seen him since I was eleven. At church on Sunday we were the picture-perfect family for the congregation, but when he’d get the itch to drink . . . he’d go a few towns over to a liquor store and it would start all over again. I think that’s why my mom provoked him with the cussing, because she felt like she couldn’t just leave a man who would drink himself to sleep a couple nights a week and leave us without any money . . . she wanted to be able to say he was abusive. Something about divorce being wrong in the Bible.” Paisley rolled her eyes. “They were so hypocritical.”

Grabbing loosely onto her forearms, I let my hands slide down until they were gripping hers and pulled her into my chest. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because we moved away from him when my mom finally divorced him. She met my stepdad a year later and we moved here with him for his job a year after that. That’s how I met you. By that time, I was mostly just bitter toward my mom for so many things. For making me grow up watching her entice him into beating her. For leaving me without a parent or two for the rest of the night. For teaching me when I was young that calling the cops would only harm the church.” She snorted. “So by the time I met you, I was distancing myself from my mom, forgetting about my dad, and falling in love with a boy who had a calming effect on me that I’d never known was possible.”

I shook my head, still not able to grasp all this. “I didn’t even know he was your stepdad, I’ve met him . . . I’ve spent so much time with your parents.”

“He’s great, and he’s great for my mom. She’s changed a lot since she met my stepdad. But you didn’t know because I felt closer to him than I did my real parents, and that’s why he adopted me so I have his last name. My mom’s nothing like she used to be, but I still don’t like being around her. And that’s why I don’t like churches or cussing.”

“Did he ever . . .” I trailed off, not able to voice the rest of my question.

“No, never! He never went looking for the fight; she just wouldn’t stop until he did. But once the cussing stopped, he was done. And, obviously, I wasn’t about to make him mad.”

“I’m so sorry, Pay, I’ll stop. I swear I—I’ll try.”

“Eli,” she said on a laugh and tightened her arms around me. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it is more of a joke between us now. Well, and Kristen too. It’s not like I still associate those words with the person using them getting beaten up. I did when I was younger, and when we first met. But that was a long time ago; now I just don’t find them necessary—unless you really make me mad for whatever reason.” She winked.

“I don’t know how you can joke about this.”

“Because it stopped fourteen years ago.” She shrugged like she hadn’t just blown my mind . . . again. Like she hadn’t just crushed this idea that my Paisley had grown up with the perfect life. “Drink,” she ordered, and handed me my coffee.

“Yes, ma’am . . . ?”

Paisley bounced on her toes as she grabbed her empty coffee cup and the sandwich wrappers. “I can’t kiss you until we’re done with coffee and breakfast, and I really need to kiss you after that!”

I laughed loudly, took the lid off the cup, and leaned over to dump it in the sink. “All done.”

Her eyebrows slammed down. “That’s cheating.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Grabbing around her waist, I hauled her small body back to mine and crushed my mouth to hers. One of her arms was caught between our bodies, her hand splayed against my chest, the other hand slowly trailed along my hair as her fingers curled around the back of my neck.

“Don’t change because of that story,” she begged. “Please just be the man I fell in love with.”

“I can do that.”

She smiled against my lips before kissing me once more. “Thank you.”

Backing away from me, she grabbed all the trash and threw it away before moving out of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To brush my teeth and get dressed.” She drew out the words, making them sound more like a question.

My eyebrows rose and I scoffed. “You’re not getting dressed.”