Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me #1) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Follow Me Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
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“Is Benji potty-trained?” he asks Elise.

“Yes and no. He still wears a diaper at night.”

Braden turns down a new aisle and pulls a pack of toddler-size diapers off the shelf. “Anything else you need from this aisle?”

Elise shakes her head.

“Is there anything special that you’d like today?”

“No, I don’t need anything,” Elise says. “Just the food is fine.”

I get it. Elise is proud. She comes here to feed her son and herself. She doesn’t want to take anything more than necessary.

Braden doesn’t push. He helps Elise bag her groceries, and then he and I pack them in the little red wagon she left outside the pantry.

“Do you live near here?” I ask.

“About twenty blocks away,” she says. “It’s a nice walk.”

“There’s a bus stop right there.” I nod. “Let me give you—”

“No, thank you,” Elise says. “Benji and I enjoy the walk. Thank you very much for the food.”

“You’re very welcome,” Braden says. “You come back anytime.”

Elise smiles and nods and then places Benji in the wagon among the bags of food. She begins the walk home. I watch them for a moment. Benji pulls a loaf of bread out of the bag and squeezes it. I smile. I never could resist squeezing a loaf of fresh bread, either. My mom got used to making sandwiches with misshapen slices.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I say.

“No need to thank me.”

I look over my shoulder. Cheryl is leading another woman with a small girl hanging on her hand into the panty. Another volunteer takes a young man from the line.

“Why this place, Braden? You could volunteer anywhere.”

“Because,” he says, “my mother used to bring Ben and me here when we were little to get food.”

My mouth drops open.

“Apparently I’m full of surprises today,” he says.

An image pops into my mind of a volunteer leading a beautiful woman—for Braden’s mother must have been beautiful—with a gorgeous little boy tugging on her hand. Probably two little boys, as Braden has a brother. Did their mother wheel them home in a wagon? Did Braden like to squeeze a fresh loaf of bread?

“I think it’s wonderful that you volunteer here and also support the pantry financially.”

“It’s the least I can do. Never forget where you came from, Skye. It’s a part of you. Always.”

We head to the Mercedes where Christopher waits. He opens the door for me.

Braden slides in next to me in the back seat. “I showed you a part of my past today. Now I’d like to know something about you.”

Chapter Thirty

“What do you want to know?”

“Something that had an impact on you. Helped define who you are.”

“Okay. But I want to say something first.”

“Go ahead.”

The words take a moment to come. “I didn’t know you ever went hungry.”

“Did you give it a second thought?”

“No, I didn’t. I’ve never gone hungry, and I never realized how lucky I am. I’m going to try not to take things like that for granted anymore.”

He trails a finger over my cheek, warming me. “Good. You should never take anything for granted. It can all be gone in a minute.”

His words puzzle me. Does he really think his fortune can just vanish? “I’m sorry,” I say. “The thought of you going to bed hungry makes me so sad.”

“Don’t be sorry, and please don’t be sad. Everything in my past has contributed to what I’ve become. Just as it has for you. Maybe you don’t have one thing you can pinpoint. But tell me something about your past. Something that helped shape who you are today.”

Funny thing is, I can pinpoint the event that caused a shift in my personality. I’ve never told anyone other than Tessa. Mostly because it’s embarrassing. Everyone expects a control freak to have some huge story. Mine isn’t huge. It’s not even interesting.

“Do I really have to go into this?”

“No. I’ll never force you to tell me anything.”

“Thanks.”

Except now I want to. He shared something with me, and I want to share my experience with him. It was traumatic at the time. I can still feel my racing heartbeat.

Silence for a few minutes.

Then I speak.

“When I was seven, I was playing by myself in our cornfields.” I close my eyes for a moment. The sweet scent of the plants drifts into my mind. Green giants to a little girl, and though I loved them, they became monsters that day.

“By yourself?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m an only child, and none of my friends lived close by. I saw them only at school until I got older. Anyway, I got lost.”

“In the cornfield?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t look so surprised. Our cornfields are huge. We have more than two hundred acres. I was only allowed to play at the very edge of the field where someone could keep an eye on me. Anyway, I got caught up chasing a praying mantis.”


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