Honesty. The thing she held paramount and the one thing he still couldn't completely give her.
Or could he? He laid his head upon her chest, listened to her heart beating double time. She had to understand his slipup. She'd never forgive him if she found out from someone else. Then she’d walk out of his life, again.
No! He couldn't allow that to happen. With Marissa was where he wanted to be—forever. Tomorrow he'd come clean, lay all his cards on the table. And she'd forgive him, just one more time.
She has to.
Chapter Six
Ribbons of sunshine poked at Marissa's eyes, luring her out of a blissful sleep. The cut on her thumb ached, but it felt a whole lot better than it had last night. She could probably cook on her own tonight. Reaching across the bed, she felt around for Billy, but she was alone. Yawning, she sat up and listened for him.
Footsteps approached, creaking on the old floorboards in the hallway. Billy backed into the room, circled the bed and set a tray on her lap. "Good morning."
She purred like a satisfied kitten, kissed his lips, then looked at the breakfast he'd made. "Eggs Benedict?" Her stomach growled loudly as the delicious aromas swirled around her. "My favorite."
He nibbled on her neck. "I happen to know some of your appetites and I enjoy giving you what you want."
The double entendre brought flashes of their lovemaking the night before. Swooning, she smiled.
"Enjoy it." He crossed the room to the dresser, stuffed his wallet and phone into his pocket. "I'll be back in an hour."
She forked a bite of heaven. "Where are you going?"
He turned his back to her. "Running a few errands."
Her radar picked up on the evasive answer and she tensed. She started to question him, but stopped herself. If they had any shot at a future together, she had to learn to trust him, stop checking up on his every move. Tamping down her doubts, she stuffed another bite into her mouth.
Billy popped a peppermint candy into his mouth, kissed her lips, then hurried out the door with a wave. With him gone, she set the tray down beside her and ran to the bathroom to wash up. When she came back, she huffed at the sight of her cat lapping up the hollandaise sauce. "Cinnamon! Bad kitty." Lifting her off the bed, she set the animal on the floor. It was her own fault for leaving the food within the cat's reach.
As she carried the tray to the kitchen, she thought about Billy and how he'd so often given in to his temptation to gamble. At times, he'd barely exhibited more self-control than Cinnamon just did. But he was trying. He'd said he hadn't gambled since he returned to Savannah and she believed him. He was committed to making their relationship work.
By time Billy arrived to take them to work, she'd moved his suitcases into her bedroom, although she wasn't yet ready to clear out any drawers for him. One step at a time.
In the car, she noticed Billy drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He always did that when he was worried.
She swallowed hard. "Nervous about who won the competition?" Inexplicably, her heart thumped wildly. “Your menu was terrific you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if we tied.”
“It may be days before Joel finds out, but yours will be hard to beat.” He patted her knee. “I'll drop you at the restaurant then go do the produce and fish run.” He turned into the alley and parked in the back lot. “Unless you want to come with me?”
She shook her head. "I have to put the meats in marinade. Be sure to pick up enough salmon and grouper. We ran out right in the middle of the rush one day last week." Opening the car door, she turned toward him. "If they have a good price on bananas, pick some up. I may add another dessert to the specials."
She headed inside as Billy left. With him gone and Joel and Ross still not there, Marissa prepared the meats for the evening's menu and wrote the specials on the chalkboard in the dining room. To afford herself extra time later, she made the piecrusts for her mock praline pies.
When she’d finished, she still had nearly an hour before the wait staff started arriving. She ran down to the cellar for a jug of the inexpensive wine they used in some of the marinades. When she returned to the kitchen, she turned up the radio and got to work. She zested lemons, minced garlic and blended her secret concoction without Billy’s prying eyes. When she shut off the blender, she thought she heard something behind her.
Suddenly a burly arm snaked around her neck, dragged her toward the dining room. She gasped for breath. Her heart thundered against her ribs.
Fight back!
Powered by panic, she elbowed the guy in his gut. She struggled futilely against his rock-solid grip. He grunted, but didn’t relent. Fighting for her life, Marissa flailed her arms, kicked her legs, trying to escape, but this was one powerful man. He lifted her off the ground as she gasped for air. She managed to turn toward him so she could see his face, but it was obscured by a freakish Halloween mask.
"Let me go!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Someone help me!” Heavy footsteps racing toward them answered her desperate plea. Billy rushed in like a vision.
"Get the hell away from her!" he yelled as he charged the guy.
Her attacker dropped her like a sack of rotten fruit and faced Billy. The man reached into a pocket and produced a knife, jabbed it in the air toward Billy.
Billy stood his ground, unarmed and vulnerable. Marissa's heart lodged in her throat. If anything happened to him, she'd die.
In that moment she knew she'd never stopped loving him, never would. She couldn't let this asshole hurt him.
Billy gave the intruder's hand a swift kick, hoping to knock the weapon away, but the man was way bigger than him and mostly muscle. He barreled past Billy, knocking him to the floor. The guy flew out the back door before Billy could make it to his feet. "I told you I'd fucking kill you if you came near her," he shouted after him. Rage electrified every nerve ending. That bastard, Earl would pay for sending his henchman after Marissa.
He tried to get up, but Marissa reached him before he could. She sank to her knees and examined him. The concern he saw on her face only intensified his guilt at putting her in harm's way. If ever there was a reason to quit gambling, this was it. She meant everything to him and he'd pissed off some really scary folks who wouldn't hesitate to hurt her, or worse.
"He's getting away!" He grabbed her shoulders and firmly moved her aside so he could stand.
Ross appeared in the doorway, eyes wide. "What happened? I saw someone in a mask run out of here and drive off in a black car. Almost ran me down."
Billy dropped his head. "Shit. Bastard got away." He slapped his fist.
"Did I mess that up?" Ross covered his cheeks with his hands. "Oh, God."
Billy helped Marissa to her feet, examined her for any cuts or bruises, but thankfully found none. "No, Ross. It wasn't your fault.” He felt Marissa's eyes on him before she spoke.
"What did you mean before when you said you told him you'd kill him if he came near me?" Her chest heaved and he recognized the flaring nostrils as a sure sign of her rising anger. "Who was that, Billy?"
"Calm down. I didn't say that." He wracked his brain, searching for a rebuttal. "I said I'd kill him and all that, but I was scared he'd hurt you. I have no idea who he was." The lie stabbed at his gut.
She fixed him with an angry glare. "How many lies am I supposed to absorb, Billy?"
The barb made him wince, but he could hardly blame her. He deserved that and so much more.
Her eyes glistened and filled, cutting straight to his heart. Christ, he hated it when he made her cry. Reaching for her hands, he threw a pleading glance at Ross, hoping for some privacy.
Ross gave his head a subtle nod and backed out of the kitchen.
Wrapping his arms around her, Billy held her tightly as she sobbed against his shoulder.
"I thought he was going to kill me," she said through her tears.
He swallowed back his shame, met her gaze. "I'd lay down my life for you any day of the week." And he realized he meant i
t. How could he have taken her for granted, screwed up the best thing that ever happened to him? What if her attacker had been sent by Big Earl? He let out a heavy sigh. "I have to tell you something, baby."
Her eyes, wide and innocent, pierced his soul.
Be strong. You can't lie to her anymore.
"I owe this dude in Atlanta money." He swallowed hard, watched her face harden. "That could be who attacked you."
"A loan shark?" The pain in her voice cut like a fillet knife.
He clenched his jaw and nodded. "I don't know what to say."
Her swift punch to his gut knocked the wind out of him, made him stumble backward against the pain from his sore ribs. But he deserved that and more. Knowing he’d hurt her was so much more painful than anything Earl could ever inflict upon him.
Sparks flew from Marissa's eyes. Rubbing her temples, she growled. "You bastard."
Footsteps approached seconds before Ross peeked into the room. “Should I phone the police, Marissa? The staff’s arriving. Are we telling them what happened here?”
“No. And no cops.” She sliced a glance at Billy, all rage and hurt.
Ross closed the distance to her and wrapped her in an embrace. “Are you all right, sweetheart? You scared me to death.”
She snuggled against him, which only made Billy feel worse. But he knew she’d wanted nothing to do with him right now. Maybe not ever again. Only he had to tell her the whole truth and he had to do it now or he might never work up the nerve.
“Ross,” he said. “Would you give us some privacy?”
He gave Marissa a final squeeze, then headed out the door.
As soon as Ross cleared the doorway, Billy stepped closer to Marissa, close enough to feel the pain radiating from her. “I’m going to tell you everything.”
She stiffened and her lips flattened into a straight line. “Go ahead.”
He stared at the wall, the stove, the cooler, anywhere he wouldn’t see the hurt in her eyes, the lingering fear from the attack. “I made some bets in Atlanta. My bookie threatened me, but I didn’t think he’d follow me here.”
He heard the sharp breath she let out, but still couldn’t meet her gaze.
“I had no idea he’d come after you. You have to believe me.”
“I believe nothing you say anymore, Billy.” The ice in her voice was more than he could stand.
Finally, he looked at her, the beautiful, sexy woman he’d betrayed. He had to keep going, had to come completely clean. “I placed a bet when I got here. Just a hundred. I wanted to cancel it, but…I didn’t.”
“It’s over, Billy.”
He sank to his knees. No, baby, please. You have to give me one more chance, I swear, I'll—"
She shoved him away and headed out the door. "We're done. I hope to hell I win the competition, but either way, I’ll never work with you again."
Dropping his head, he shut his eyes. His world lay in tiny shards on the ground. And he had no one to blame for shattering it but himself.
*****
Billy watched the sun come up the next morning from Marissa’s back porch. At least he knew she was safe, thanks to Joel’s call last night to let him know she was spending the night in his guest room. But this was her house. He was the one who had to leave.
After he packed up his things, he headed to the restaurant since he had nothing better to do, no one to be with. God, he missed her already.
Joel pulled into the parking lot ahead of him. His chest tightened as he watched Marissa step out of Joel’s car. She glanced back at him, seemed to hesitate as Joel went inside.
He hurried out of his car, hoping to have a minute alone with her. Maybe she’d reconsidered. “Marissa,” he called to her. “Can I have a minute with you?”
She looked toward the back door as if she was deciding what to do.
“Please?” He stood rooted to the spot, numbly watching the woman he loved suffer, all because of him. How could he not have anticipated this outcome? But she couldn't force him out of her life, not now, not again.
Marissa's angry eyes blazed and her chest heaved. "One day you'll cross the wrong bookie or loan shark and they'll find you dead in an alley. I refuse to be the sucker waiting at home for a loser."
He winced against the pain in his chest. How had he screwed things up so badly here? Marissa was so much more important to him than betting, more important than his job, more than anything. He closed the distance between them. "Marissa, I'm so sorry." He touched a finger to her cheek, but she shrank away.
"I can't trust you, Billy. You've broken that forever."
Her words hit him like arrows, piercing his gut, tearing his insides apart. He wanted to say something, refute her claim, but all he could do was stare into her dark eyes, at the pain he'd put there.
She marched into the restaurant, fists tightly clenched. Before he could make it inside, a dark Cadillac sedan pulled into the alley.
The window rolled down and Kenny, his local bookie, stuck his head out. "Yo, Billy. Guess you heard the Dolphins lost."
He shook his head. "Been kind of busy. Sorry."
"We'll be doing business on a cash basis now. You understand, right?"
Gritting his teeth, he took out his wallet, removed all his money. Two twenties and a five. "This is all I have on me."
Kenny's gaze slid over him. "I'll take that watch, call it even."
He blew out a long breath, crinkled his brow. The watch had been a gift from Marissa on their first anniversary, probably worth more than twice what he owed Kenny. But all he really wanted was to get this over with. Stripping it off his wrist, he handed it over. "Do me a favor, Kenny."
The man lifted a bushy black eyebrow. "What's that?"
"If I ever call you again, tell me to fuck off." He started back toward the building, gritted his teeth when he heard Kenny mutter, "Whatever, asshole." then peel out of the lot.
He headed inside, found Marissa in the kitchen, gripping the prep counter with her back to him. He wanted so badly to go to her, massage her shoulders, assure her everything would be okay, but he knew the last thing she'd accept right now was his brand of sympathy. The spaghetti strap of her white tank top slipped off her shoulder and he ventured a step closer, hoping to right it, feel the silky smooth skin, smell her vanilla scent.
She twisted around and shot him a warning look that left no doubt in his mind that he'd better not come any closer.
God it tore him up to see her like this.
Joel entered the kitchen, leveled a worried stare at Billy. “Everything okay in here?”
Marissa let out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, it’s just great.”
“You two ready to hear which one of you wowed the restaurant critic more?” Joel clasped his hands behind his back.
“Sure, why not?” Marissa turned to face their boss.
Billy’s stomach roiled. He wished to hell they’d never started the damned competition.
Joel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded check.
Billy swallowed hard.
“You both did a fantastic job, but there was a clear winner.” He faced Marissa. “I’m sorry, honey.” Then he offered his hand to Billy. “Congratulations.”
The slight furrow of Marissa’s brow was nearly imperceptible, but he caught it. She leveled a cold stare at him. “Congratulations.”
“But, hers was better,” Billy heard himself say.
Marissa rolled her eyes, stalked from the room.
Joel shrugged. “One of you had to win, one had to lose.”
Why did he feel like the biggest loser ever?
Minutes later, Marissa marched back into kitchen and folded her arms over her chest. "I hate to lay this on you now, Joel, but I can't work here anymore, not with Billy. Please, forgive me." She gave her head a firm shake. "No more." In a second she was out the door.
Billy started after her, but stopped when Joel shouted, "No!"
He hesitated, listened as the back door slammed shut.
"Give her some time." Joel sighed, ran his fingers through his short hair. "Come on into my office." He led him down the hall, into the office.
Billy crumbled into the chair.
Joel steepled his fingers on the desk. "Screwed it up again, huh?"
He nodded.
"What happened? Been gambling again?"
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he said, “Yup.”
“When are you gonna learn, bro?”
The woman he loved more than life itself had walked out on him? He drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. Nothing mattered now, not really. His world had lost all its luster.
Joel lifted an eyebrow. "What's my guarantee you won’t stumble into this sort of trouble again?"
Did the guy want blood? "I'm through with betting." And he meant it. But how many times had he made himself the same promise? "I’m going to start with Gamblers’ Anonymous. I looked it up. There’s a meeting a few blocks away from here."
"Good idea." His tone softened.
"I'll go every day if I have to. Much as I believe I'll never gamble again, I don't trust myself."
Joel came around the desk and the men shook hands. Billy drew his cousin into a hug, then stepped back. "I'm so sorry, Joel. I know I screwed up.”
"And what about Marissa?"
His gut clenched at the thought of her, what she must be going through. "Somehow, I'll win her back. I have to."
"I hope so."
Whatever it took, he would earn Marissa's love back and Joel's respect.
***
Marissa huffed when she remembered Joel had driven her to the restaurant that morning, forcing her to walk home or beg a ride from someone else. She gave the cloudy sky a cursory glance, decided she'd take her chances. But instead of heading toward her house, she opted for a stroll along the riverfront. She passed old oak trees draped with Spanish moss, several monuments that proclaimed the city's commitment to historic preservation. The charm and antiquity were some of the things she and Billy loved most about this place. With a little care and tending, so many structures had lasted hundreds of years, yet their marriage refused to stand the test of even a single decade.
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