by Stacy Gail
She let that soak in for a while before she looked back out into the darkness with a crabby little “hmph.” “It was offensive and thoroughly unacceptable. I’m never acknowledging that dick’s existence again. Either of them. They could be on fire and I wouldn’t bother to spit on them to put them out.”
Cute. “The truth is, you’re not pissed at Luke or Payne. Well, you are, but not to the level of being fine with watching them burn alive. No, that level of pissiness is reserved for me.”
“Oh?” Her attention swung back to him, and the fire in her amber eyes sizzled over him. “You think I’m mad at you for befriending me, wooing me, seducing me, asking me to trust you, and promising that you’d never hurt me even emotionally, all the while knowing there was no way you were prepared to handle things once the inevitable happened and I fell in love with you?” The scoff that burst from her burned the air, it was so acidic. “Yeah. Good guess there, Steele. I am mad at you. But there’s nothing I can do about it except steer clear of you, and tell you to do the same until…”
He waited a beat while her words hit him like invisible blows. “Until?”
“Until I stop dying inside whenever I look at you.”
Had he thought her words before were painful? He hadn’t known the meaning until now. “I never meant to hurt you, sweetness.”
She flinched at the name but didn’t look away. “I believe you. In fact, I believe I never really entered your thought process at all. You saw me as someone who was scarred and screwed up like you, so I guess that made me easier to approach. You extended yourself to me in a way you haven’t extended yourself to anyone in years, and I can understand that. I understand the need to see if you’re still attractive to the opposite sex after going through everything you have, I really do. But in all that rebuilding of your confidence and making yourself feel good about what a sexy beast you are, you missed something. You never gave a thought to what you were doing to me. That’s not right, Steele. None of that is right.”
“What’s not right is every fucking word you just said.” Temper sparked white-hot, and it took everything he had to rein it in. “Are those the crazy-ass conclusions you’ve come to while I was doing my damnedest to get my shit sorted out? That I’m some kind of heartless fuckwad who used you to stroke my bruised ego because my ex kicked the shit out of me while I was down?”
“Sad to say, that’s exactly what I think. Don’t forget, I know what it’s like to live day after day with the thought that no one is ever going to want you because of what’s happened to you. Because of what you’ve become. I know what it’s like.”
“You don’t know a damn thing,” he grated, still furious, but this time half of that fury took direct aim at himself. When a man handled his woman so badly she was left with no choice but to believe the absolute worst of him, that wasn’t her fault. It was his. “You’ve turned everything we’ve shared into some shallow ego trip on my part, and nothing could be further from the truth.”
She shrugged and looked away. “Whatever.”
Goddamn it. “You were right, okay? I was locked up inside myself. You brought me back to life, back into the world, and after being dead inside for so long, it took me a while to figure out what was happening. I couldn’t believe what was going on inside of me—I thought it was lust or need or even obsession. Maybe a part of me didn’t want to believe it, I don’t know. I don’t even care. What I do know is that I’m not going to let you take the most miraculous thing that’s happened to me in years, and turn it into a self-absorbed, ego-stroking fuck-frenzy.”
She was still for so long, he could almost believe she’d turned into a statue. Then she shook her head. “You haven’t convinced me that it was anything else.”
“Then I need to work on my communication skills.” Swinging both legs out onto the fire escape he pushed to his feet, put a hand on the metal stair railing and leaned into her space until they were eye to eye. “I just said that I not only lust after you, need you and am obsessed with you, but you’ve brought me back to life. Giving you up now is like giving up air. No way in hell am I going to do that.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her reaction to be, but an unimpressed slow blink hadn’t even been on the menu. “Yeah? Sounds to me like you don’t think I have a choice in the matter.”
“You don’t.”
“Bullshit.” She said it so calmly, so flatly, it scared the hell out of him. “I do have a choice, and my choice isn’t to coast along on a road that ultimately is going to take me nowhere. That’s what staying with you and keeping up the status quo is—a road that goes nowhere. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
“You’re not hearing me.”
“I am hearing you, but even more than that I’m listening to what you’re saying. I’m in love with you, Steele. It’s not some phase I’m going through, or a virus that I’ll eventually get over. And it didn’t just happen because you were the first man I saw when I came out of my cocoon. No. I came out of my cocoon because I felt that you were worth coming out for. I felt it so deeply that it wasn’t even a conscious decision on my part. It just happened, like breathing, and when I came back into the world, everything was made better. I was made better. Stronger. And it was all because of you.”
Her words were chipping away at him, until he felt like a raw, exposed nerve. “You’ve always been strong, Essie. No one made you that way, least of all me.”
“Maybe. But you did change me, and I can tell you how. Until I met you, I always saw the future as a desolate road stretching on into infinity, a road I fucking hated but couldn’t find a way off of. But that all changed. You came along and gave me hope that I wasn’t alone in the world. Everything about you was this beautiful promise of an off-ramp that would eventually lead to what other people had. A life together. A family. A future that didn’t include single-serving microwave dinners or an empty silence that smothers you when you come home from work. That promise was so beautiful I never realized that no promise had ever truly been made.”
That terrible tightness in his chest came again, and he raised his hand to cup her cheek. When she jerked back to avoid him, the tightness nearly crushed him. “Sweetness—”
“I’m still not hearing promises, Steele. What I’m hearing is a good man doing his best to work with an unexpected obligation that came about due to his careless actions, and I’m not cool with that. My loving you shouldn’t be an obligation that you have to find a way to live with, so I’m letting you off the hook, okay? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just respect that I need more than what you’re offering. I need an off-ramp.”
“I am doing what I want, and what I want to do is get it through your head that things have changed with me. I had to make these changes for you, and for myself, and I took this week to do that.”
“Leave me out of that equation, if you don’t mind. If you felt you had to make changes for yourself, then great. I support that. But you should know that if you add me in, then it proves my point that you felt you had to force yourself to become something that wasn’t coming from you naturally. I appreciate the gesture, and I love that you’re the kind of man who would try to make the best of a bad situation. But if you had to take a week to try to become someone you’re not, then I want nothing to do with that.”
“Essie—”
“I’m not alone in feeling this way, which is comforting to know. When Angel wasn’t sure about how committed my brother was, she said she’d rather let him go than try to hold him in a relationship he didn’t want. I get that, because that’s where we are now. I’m letting you go.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, pissed. Why the hell wasn’t she hearing him? “What do I have to say to get through to you that I don’t want to be let go?”
Her smile was so piercingly sad it stabbed right through the heart. “If you have to ask, then that proves my point. Thanks for the new sketchbook, but I need you to go now. I have a long day tomor
row, and I need my sleep. You can find your own way out, yeah?”
“That damned fighting spirit of yours.” He blew out a breath of pure frustration and searched her eyes. What he saw was wariness—something he could deal with—and miles of blank, impenetrable defenses that once again cocooned her so completely it put her way out of his reach. That, he had no clue how to deal with. “You’re so locked into fight-mode that you haven’t even noticed there’s nothing left to fight. You’ve won, Essie. Accept your victory with grace and let me in.”
“The only thing I’m up to accepting right now is peace and quiet. You need to go.”
“Goddamn it, woman, are you trying to make me crazy?”
“No, I’m trying to hold on to what’s left of my sanity. I’d lose it I chose to believe that I could love you enough for the both of us. That never works. I’d wind up drained dry and you’d eventually be crushed with guilt because you’d know you’d drained me dry. It never works. So thanks, but no thanks. We both deserve better.”
Fucking hell, this woman… “From the beginning, Luke warned me you were never going to be easy.”
Her jaw clenched and she looked away once more to the alley. “Yeah? Guess you should’ve listened to your friend.”
“The thing is, I don’t want easy. So if this is the way it’s got to be, then this is the way it’s got to be. I wouldn’t want you any other way.” Before she could even think of dodging him, he caught her chin and planted a quick, hard kiss on her closed mouth. “And make no mistake, Essie—I do want you, even that fighting spirit of yours that’s currently the hugest pain in my ass. It’s up to me to prove that to you. Obviously I’ve done a piss-poor job of it, since a man shouldn’t have to work this hard to convince his lady he’s legit, but whatever. I’m up to the challenge.”
Her wary eyes widened. “What exactly does that mean?”
“It means you need to prepare yourself for another kind of battle—a battle that we’re both going to win.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The applause beyond the curtain was deafening as Twist and Angel went out onto the runway one last time, followed by Carla and Patrick, the official model-wranglers of baby Dillon and an overexcited Charlotte. They were all dressed in outfits Essie had handpicked for her collection’s finale, giving the audience one last look at the work that had her taken months to create. At long last, her House Of Payne collection was out in the world, destined to be both celebrated and judged.
She should have been exhilarated.
She should have been terrified.
All she really felt was exhausted.
Damn, she needed a nap.
“Essie, come on.” Scout, wearing a headset and a no-nonsense frown, beckoned her forward, her ever-present tablet in hand. “Time for your bow. Just don’t take five minutes to do it like Olivier did.”
“I don’t even want to take five seconds.”
“Do not pull that Santiago attitude on me, girlfriend. I’ve had years of practice, dragging your brother to public appearances, so don’t even think about running now.”
“I’m too tired to run.” To prove it, Essie yawned as she shuffled to the center curtain, and wished she’d been able to sleep the night before. But thanks to Steele, sleep had remained stubbornly beyond her grasp. “Let’s get this the hell over with. I have a week-long nap waiting for me at the end of this thing, and I’m anxious to get a jump on it.”
“You’ve been beyond wonderful throughout this whole process, you know.” To her surprise, the taller woman reached out and squeezed her hand. Scout didn’t strike Essie as the touchy-feely type, so she couldn’t help but return the pressure of her fingers, even as she looked into Scout’s surprisingly serious expression. “Everything you’ve put up with, everything that’s happened… as much as the amazing designs you’ve come up with, you’ve shown that you’d be a great fit here at the House.”
Touched, Essie couldn’t help but opt for honesty. “I have to tell you, I’ve got my doubts about that. There have been times when I’ve wanted to kill Payne.”
“Honey, that’s me on a daily basis. I don’t know how his wife stands him. Now go out there and enjoy your moment, because you freaking deserve it, babe.” With that, Scout shoved her through the curtain.
Sound slapped against her full force as the curtain closed behind her, and for a moment she was too dazed to even move. The stage lights dazzled her, and she had to blink a few times to get her eyes to focus. Then, when she took in the hundreds of people looking expectantly up at her, the thought of diving back through the curtain became a serious possibility.
No one would think that was weird, right?
Whatever.
Essie forced what was probably a sickly smile, tried not to think of whether or not the back of her skirt had somehow gotten stuck up in her underwear, and unglued her feet from the floor. It was wall-to-wall people on either side of the catwalk, and just looking out into the sea of faces made her stomach quiver alarmingly.
Oh, boy.
If she hurled now, she would find out if a person could actually die of embarrassment.
Everyone was clapping, and a few were shouting so loudly as she walked along the runway she had to wonder if Payne should have put a cap on how much free champagne had been served. Right at the edge of the raised walkway was a large knot of people with professional-grade cameras held to their faces, and the storm of flashes that went off was so intense it had a strobe effect. Twice she almost brought her walk to a starstruck halt when she spotted first her favorite R and B singer in the crowd, and then her latest Hollywood crush. They were among the many faces turned up to her, on their feet and clapping enthusiastically as they focused totally on her.
Wow.
Just… wow.
If she did have her skirt accidentally tucked up into the back of her panties, at least she would have this dream moment before she keeled over.
Her models were waiting for her at the end of the runway, a larger platform that was close to the raised judges’ stand. On that stand was Payne, his very pregnant wife and 3D artist extraordinaire known to her only as Becks, and former supermodel, Candide. They were clapping as well, smiling as she joined her models. Her brother instantly wrapped her up in a huge bear hug that took her off her feet, and with a squeak she held on by curling her arms around his neck. For a split second her mind flew back to when she was attacked, an act that set both of them on the road that led them to this wild moment of happiness and triumph.
And there it was.
Even if she didn’t win tonight, she’d already won.
“Love you, Es.” Twist’s arms contracted until her ribs groaned. “So fucking proud of you.”
She squeezed back and swallowed hard against the knot of hopelessly moved emotion clogging her throat. “Thanks, Twist, my hero. Love you, too.”
She heard him catch his breath at the old nickname before he laughed and set her back down. Then he turned her to the left and pointed into the crowd. Peering through the camera flashes, she caught sight of their brother Nick and his wife Kara, and their mother and father. Her mother was crying and laughing wildly all at the same time, while her father held onto her as though he feared she would collapse at any moment. There were tears glistening in his eyes as well, with a more gentle expression that told her far more than words that her father’s thoughts had also gone back in time to reflect on far his children had come. They had triumphed, because they were strong. Strong as individuals, and strong as a family. No matter what storms hit, they had proven they could get through anything, as long as they had each other.
It was heartbreaking that Steele had never known that kind of loving and unquestioned support.
The moment she thought of him, her gaze shifted once more through the sea of faces before coming to a halt on Steele. She found him at the very back, a head taller than everyone else and clapping just as fiercely as her brother Nick, his eyes both soft and burning, and locked onto her as if she was th
e only thing in the world worth looking at. It was a strange look, intense and enveloping, and it made her chest flutter in a delicious way that hurt.
How was it possible that he could steal her breath with just a look?
Luke Keyes stood next to him, smiling and clapping as well, all the while looking inexplicably amused. That smirk kicked her in the butt, reminding her not to take a five-minute bow like Olivier. Offering a quick nod to the judges and the audience, Essie tried to look like she knew what the hell she was doing by ushering everyone back to the curtain.
But all the while, she couldn’t get that beautiful, burning look Steele had given her out of her mind.
“That…was…awesome.” Unfazed by baby Dillon’s scream-crying in that unique way veteran parents could be, Patrick lassoed Essie into a one-armed hug as they worked their way back into the mess of curtained-off cubicles. “When’s your next fashion show? We definitely want to be included.”
She blinked up at him, dazed. “Uh, this was a one-shot deal, dude, and for that I’m grateful. This show pretty much killed me.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t, so you’re good,” came the totally oblivious reply. If there had been an oncoming bus, Essie would have been tempted to push him in front of it. “Maybe House Of Payne’s going to hold one of these every year.”
God, the horror of such a statement. “I have no idea if they will, or if I’ll even be a part of it.”
“Pfft.” Patrick made a dismissive sound and handed his son over to Carla, before trying to corral Charlotte. “You’re kidding me, right? You got this in the bag, hon. Everyone out there knows it. Didn’t you hear all that cheering?”
Her stomach tightened as the nerves returned with a vengeance. “Nothing’s been decided yet.”
“That’s about to change, I think.” Angel peeked outside their cubicle. “Scout’s on her way over, sweetie.”
