Claimed by the Betrayed Mercenary

Chapter Nine

Wynter’s POV

‘Happy Birthday!’ mum trills as she storms into my room way to early to be legal the day after Christmas. I peer out from under my covers, blearily making out my mother, standing in the doorway, a huge cake in her hands as she beams widely at me.

‘Is that red velvet cake?’ I mumble, rousing slightly, because, hello! Red velvet cake!

‘It is’ mum agrees, coming closer and plopping down on the bed beside me, placing the huge plate of chocolatey goodness on my bedside table before reaching over to hug me.

‘Twenty four!’ she wails, crushing me to her, ‘how is my baby twenty four? I remember when you were just a little baby, sleeping on your daddy’s chest as he watched sports . . . my little winter baby . . .’

I feel wetness on my shoulder as I hug her awkwardly, my birthday is always a day of joy and pain as my dad passed away on my birthday, and every year it’s hard, celebrating when he’s not here.

‘He’s still here you know’ I mumble, blinking back my own tears, I hate this day, if I had my way, we wouldn’t celebrate it at all, but I know mum likes to and I can’t break her heart, not today.

Mum nods, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, ‘I know, I’m just being silly, it’s the time of year . . ‘

I nod, swallowing thickly, ‘yeah’ I croak, ‘winter always makes people sad, it’s something to do with the lack of sun or something . . ‘

My mum pulls back, giving me a watery smile, her hands cupping my face as she wipes her thumb underneath my eyes, seems I wasn’t as good at clamping down on my emotions as I thought.

‘We’ll go and see him’ she murmurs, ‘take some flowers, so he can wish you happy birthday too.’

I nod again, ‘sounds good’ I croak out weakly, placing my hand over her own against my cheek as we stare at each other sadly.

Snapping out of her melancholy, the older woman, smiles brightly as she releases me and picks up the cake again.

‘Come on, hurry up’ she orders, ‘get up, I’m making some tea and toast for breakfast, so come down to the kitchen when you’re dressed’ the older woman says quietly, the humour leaving her voice as she smiles sadly before leaving me alone again.

Throwing back the covers, I scramble out of bed, tugging on some clothes and heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

Heading downstairs, I find my mum in the kitchen, pouring hot water into two mugs containing teabags, as the smell of hot buttery bread infiltrates the air from the plates beside her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she smiles at me, ‘nearly ready’ she tells me, nodding toward the fridge, ‘grab me the milk please.’

I do as I’m asked, placing the large container down beside her elbow as the older woman smiles. ‘I’ll have to get used to buying a smaller carton soon again won’t I’ she chuckles.

I roll my eyes, ‘you make it sound like I’m leaving home forever’ I chastise her, ‘I’ll be gone for a few months! And I’m not even leaving yet, I have two more weeks.’

‘I know, I’m just being dramatic’ my mother replies, shaking her head.

‘That would be where I get it from then’ I tease, reaching over her to snag one of the freshly baked brownies that I spot cooling on the worktop. I swear the woman bakes more and more the closer I get to leaving! It’s like she’s trying to bribe me with food!

‘Hey! Those are for you to take back with you!’ Mum smacks the hot spoon playfully onto the back of my hand, making me yelp as I pull away quickly.

‘But they look so gooooood’ I whine, batting my eyelids at her, ‘the smell! The look of them? You can’t deny your one and only baby girl a teeny tiny little slice? Not on her birthday! It’s not like I’m asking you to cut my cake before everyone gets here . . ’ I trail off hopefully.

Mum raises an eyebrow at me, her lips twitching as I pull my best innocent little girl look, the one that always got my dad to cave when I was younger.

‘Fine, one’ she huffs, laughing as I squeal excitedly, planting a kiss on her weathered cheek whilst reaching over to snatch the biggest brownie on the plate. ‘Don’t ring me whining when there are none left the day after you get back to college’ she warns me as I skip away, biting into the treat eagerly.

‘Mmmmm!’ I groan loudly, ‘you should open a bakery or something! These are so good! Almost worth all the gym time I’m going to need to put in to fit my jeans’ I add, dropping a hand to my thigh and tugging at the elasticated denim that is clinging to my legs like a second skin.

My shape has always been an issue for me, I was always more pear shaped as a child and when I started developing, well the boobs got into competition with the booty. Now I’ve stopped growing, have to be careful as any weight I put on goes straight to the ass and t**s areas making my clothes even harder to fit over my voluptuous curves.

Mum glares at me, ‘you do not need to lose weight’ she growls, pointing the spoon at me, ‘you are fine the way you are.’

I nod grudgingly, knowing better than to argue with her, she is always telling me about how men love a curvy woman, and how I should be proud of my hourglass figure. She doesn’t really get how embarrassing it is to try and buy a skirt or trousers and you can’t get them wide enough in the thighs and slim enough in the waist or a shirt that doesn’t strain the buttons or look like you are wearing a tent because your cleavage needs more room than seems necessary.

Have you ever had to call an assistant into the changing room because the dress you were trying on got stuck over your chest, your arms are locked above your head, and you can’t pull it up or down to get free? Yeah, that wasn’t mortifying at all.

I meet my mother’s stern gaze, holding up my hands, ‘I’m not dieting’ I promise, ‘just keeping these sexy curves toned ready for the summer season when the crop tops and boy shorts, come out.’

OK, I’d never ever wear either of those things, but my mother doesn’t need to know that. Seemingly satisfied, my mother brings over my drink, placing it in front of me before picking up the plate of brownies and pushing them toward me.

I groan even as I reach for one, ‘you are a bad influence’ I mutter, glaring at her.

Mum shrugs, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about, I’m just giving my sweet little baby girl a treat because I love her.’

Laughing, I take a big bite, dammit, I’ll just add another twenty minutes cardio to my workout for the next two weeks.