Grant rolled his eyes. “Don’t put me on a pedestal.”
“You—and about a million other couples—have put yourself there. Don’t be modest.”
He shrugged.
“Funny, you used to get onto me for not opening up.”
“You’re the client, not me. I don’t need to open up.” His tone was final and sharper than I’d ever heard before.
“You’re right,” I quickly amended. “I shouldn’t have overstepped. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. All the hoops you’ve jumped to accommodate my unique situation, and I wanted to do something for you—even if it was just an ear to listen to you for a change.”
Grant’s hand stilled, the strokes he’d been making ceased.
I set my brush down. “I can go. We can talk another time.” I turned to leave, but he stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm.
“No, you don’t need to leave,” he said. “I’m not used to having clients ask about my personal life.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s all right,” he cut me off. “Just…you remember I used to be in a band right?”
“Yes,” I said. With his looks and the creative eccentricities he had, it would be hard to forget.
“That lifestyle didn’t set me up for the most committed of relationships.”
I nodded. “I can understand that. All the touring, partying, thousands of fans screaming for you—that would be hard to compete with.”
“Exactly.” He raked his fingers through his long black hair. “Then I left that behind me, and opened up this place.” He motioned to the area around us.
“Was there something that pushed you to do that?” I asked, curious why he’d make such an insane career jump.
“What happened with you and Quinn?” he asked, smiling softly.
Total change in subject. Well, I’d tried to be there for him, but I understood better than anyone about not wanting to open up.
“Did you talk?” he asked after I hadn’t answered.
I shook my head, and his shoulders dropped.
“I will. Tonight. I promise. I just…” I sighed, the memories of the past two days playing in my head, my thighs clenching from the thoughts. “Was enjoying the moment.”
“That’s something I understand,” he said. “But you have to tell him, Tara. You can’t keep hiding this from him. He has a right to know.”
I chewed on my lip, knowing he was right. While Quinn and I had finally connected on every intimate level I’d been craving, it was time to let him in on where my head was at. Starting with confronting him about the day he’d gone to see the divorce lawyer. My stomach twisted into knots as it did every time I thought about losing Quinn. Especially after we’d made love, it was clear we had the ability to light each other up as we once had—there was still love there, an intense amount, at least, on my end—and I had to know why he’d even thought of a split in the first place. Because something didn’t add up, and I was finally ready to understand—whether that meant the truth was ugly or not.
“You know the reasons I’ve kept it from him,” I said, trying to explain myself.
Grant stepped closer to me, clutching my shoulders. “I know. But time is up. I only have one more day with you.”
Then I’d be on my own. No more sessions, no more advice on how to keep my husband…my husband.
“I’ll tell him tonight.”
Grant smiled at me. “Good girl.” He wrapped me in a friendly hug, showing his support as he had throughout the entirety of our stay here.
I patted his back. “If I’m so good, why does it feel so bad?” Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I stepped out of his embrace. There was nothing that made sense to me—Quinn’s passionate touch, his consuming kisses, his ability to quiet my raging mind, and yet, he was seriously contemplating divorce but had forgotten to tell me? “What if he says this was it for us? That he wanted one last good time with me before he finally broke the news that he’s tired of missing out on all the other women he could’ve been with his whole life?”
Grant shook his head. “He won’t.”
“How do you know? It’s not like he’s been here for you to analyze!” My breathing was ragged, and I was close to hyperventilating with the thought of finally talking to Quinn.
“Deep breaths, Tara,” he said, focusing those ice-blue eyes on me. “Just because I haven’t had a session with him doesn’t mean I don’t know him through you. He loves you. There is real love there. You just have to talk to him.”
I sucked in a deep breath.
“Now,” Grant said, motioning toward his partially opened office door. “Now, would be a good time. The time.”
“You’re right.” I nodded and walked assuredly toward the door. I spared one glance back at Grant, using his faith in my relationship as the courage I so desperately needed.
“I usually am,” he said, smiling. “Go.”
One more deep breath and I was out the door.
14
Quinn
“You have to tell him, Tara.” Grant’s words stopped me from knocking on his half-opened office door. “You can’t keep hiding this from him. He has a right to know.”
What the fuck?
I froze outside the door—my thoughts of joining Tara for the rest of her session and being there for her in a way I hoped she needed me, completely forgotten.
“You know the reasons I’ve kept it from him,” Tara said, and I could just see her through the crack in the door.
Grant stepped closer to her, clutching her shoulders. “I know. But time is up. I only have one more day with you.”
“I’ll tell him tonight.”
My hands clutched into fists, my limbs shaking with adrenaline. Tell me what?
Grant smiled at Tara. “Good girl.” He wrapped her in his arms, a hug that looked too familiar. Like he’d had Tara in his arms more than once.
Acid churned in my gut.
Tara leaned into the embrace. “If I’m so good, why does it feel so bad?”
All the air left my lungs, my vision coated in red. Murder was on my fists, but I thought about Blaire, about not wanting her to have a dad in prison.
With willpower I didn’t know I had, I backed away from the door slowly at first, then faster and faster until I was barreling down the hallway. Every inch of my skin vibrated from the adrenaline rushing through my veins, and I fucking itched to hit something. No, kill something.
Was Tara sleeping with Grant?
No. How could she do that and sleep with me at the same time? It wasn’t like her.
She hasn’t acted like herself for months.
Fuck. Is this how I lost her? To some ex-rock star turned love guru?
Why the hell did she bring me here?
I paced the length of the lobby, too many questions and choices storming my mind. I wanted to turn back, kick the door into Grant’s office and remind him who Tara belonged to.
Did she belong to me anymore?
The uncertainty is what stopped me. Shaking, I forced myself to walk up the stairs toward our room. If I didn’t, I would do something I’d regret. I was sure of it.
“Quinn?” Anderson’s voice sounded from behind me, and I froze on the second stair landing.
I glanced over my shoulder, not wanting to talk to anyone at that moment.
His eyes widened at my look, and he darted up the stairs after me. I ignored him and kept walking until I’d made it to our front door.
“Quinn, man, wait up!” Anderson called as I frantically tried to get the keycard to unlock the room. My trembling hands did nothing to help me escape. “Dude, what is going on? You look like you’re about to kill someone.”
The lock finally popped, and I sighed, opening the door. Anderson took that as an invite and followed me inside. I tossed the key on the kitchen island and leaned over it, my head between my shoulders as I took deep breaths. Each inhale sent a wave of pain to the center of my chest, and I stood up, clut
ching the area like I could somehow stop the sting.
Tara.
“Are you having a heart attack? Do I need to call the medics?” Anderson was now at my side, and I glared at him.
“No,” I snapped. I went back to gripping the counter, needing something between my shaking hands before I hit something.
“Then what—”
“What the fuck is this place? Really?” I cut him off, staring up at him through the hair that had fallen in my eyes.
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
I smacked my hands on the counter. “Is the whole fantasy, adult playground thing just a way for Grant to pick out emotionally struggling wives and move on them himself?”
“What? No!” Anderson straightened, actually appearing offended at my accusation. “Why would you think that?” Something clicked behind his eyes, and his shoulders dropped. “You found out.”
I slit my eyes at him. “Found out what?” Fuck I was so sick and tired of feeling like the only one who didn’t know what the hell was going on.
“That she didn’t win the stay?” A few seconds passed and he sucked in a breath, realizing I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“Tara didn’t win?”
He shook his head. “We don’t host giveaways for stays. There are too many variables with random winners. Inhibitions caters to couples who need help figuring out who they are to each other. The personality tests are extensive, as well as the legal paperwork to ensure neither party is liable for what happens during their stay.”
“Personality tests?” I didn’t take any tests.
“How do you think Grant can hand-select fantasies for each of you?”
I shook my head, the mention of Grant’s name coloring my vision red again. “I didn’t think about it.” I thought she’d won a stay and we were going with the flow. I thought her sessions with Grant was an add-on she’d wanted, not… “Wait,” I said. “Am I supposed to be with her in these sessions with Grant? If this place is to help couples?”
Anderson nodded, sighing. “Yes. Normally that is how it works unless one of the partners specifically requests to undergo them alone.”
“And Tara did.”
“I should go,” he said, walking toward the door.
“Please,” I said. “I need to understand why she did this. Why she’d lie. Why she’s with him when she should be with me.”
Anderson stopped with his hand on the knob. “I can’t answer those questions for you. I’m sorry.” He opened the door. “The one thing I can tell you for certain is that whatever you think Grant is doing—moving on Tara—it isn’t true. He’s a professional. He wants nothing but success from couples like you. The ones who really have love there.”
“How can you be so certain?” Especially when I was so unsure of everything right now.
“I’ve worked here long enough to know love when I see it.” He pressed his lips in a line before opening them again. “You know how you can set your mind at ease?”
I tilted my head at him, continuing to take deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Which begged me to run to the nightclub and pick a fight to satisfy the bloodthirsty rage pulsing like fire in my veins. Or perhaps, I should just go to the source, despite what Anderson said, and see who Grant really was when confronted.
“Talk to Tara,” Anderson answered without me asking him to. “She’s the only one who can answer the questions you have.” He turned and shut the door.
I slid down to the floor, my back against the kitchen island. Opening and closing my fists, I forced the anger down until it was only at a simmer.
After the past couple days, I thought I’d been growing closer to Tara. Rediscovering my wife in ways I hadn’t realized I needed. Now, I was back to where we started on this journey. Unsure. Terrified. And so frustrated I couldn’t see straight.
The time for waiting for her to come to me, to open up to me about whatever was going on with her was done. She’d hate it, but I would push her. Because if I didn’t, I was sure we’d lose each other entirely.
15
Tara
My fingers trembled as I opened the door to our room, the nerves escaping through my body in the only way they could. Knowing I was about to finally open up to Quinn and confront him with what I’d seen had me more afraid than if someone had dropped me in a bathtub filled with snakes.
What if he leaves me?
Then at least I’d know I fought for him.
Digging deep for some kind of confidence, I straightened my spine and walked into our room.
“What are you doing?” I asked Quinn when I found him leaning against the kitchen island, his head in his hands. He snapped his eyes to me when he heard my voice, and I took a step back from his sharp gaze.
He sat up, pushing back the hair from his face. “Tara,” he said, his tone almost a warning and it turned my already sporadic heartbeat to chaotic.
“What?” I whispered.
“Talk.”
The way he said it chilled me to the bone. As if he’d known all along what Grant and I had been discussing throughout our stay. Did Grant tell him?
No. I wouldn’t believe that. He said his office was a safe space. He wouldn’t betray my trust. Then why is Quinn looking at me like he knows?
A rock lodged itself in my throat, tears burning the backs of my eyes.
Quinn pushed back from the island, slowly walking toward me. He reached out to touch me, but thought better of it for some reason, and shoved his hands in his pockets instead. The move was subtle, but it stung every cell in my body.
“I need you to talk, Tara. I’m going out of my mind. Seeing things I shouldn’t.”
“What things?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and my eyes widened. He was furious.
“Don’t make me say it.” He shook his head.
“Say what?” I snapped, anger turning my tears to steam. He was the one who had been keeping things from me. How could he be pissed?
“I saw you. And him. And heard what you said.”
My lips parted, but I titled my head. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Grant!” he yelled, jerking his hand toward the door. “He told you to tell me tonight. That I deserved to know. And then he fucking held you!”
He was trembling when he crossed his arms over his chest, and I slit my eyes at him.
“You were spying on me?”
“I went there to be with you. I wanted to talk. To be there for you the way he was, which I thought was therapy.”
“It was—”
“Then what the hell, Tara? Why have you been distant? Why —before two days ago—do you tense up when I touch you? Why are you able to confide in strangers but not your husband?”
The tears were back, but there was an angry bite to them. I swiped under my eyes and smacked my hands on my thighs. “Let’s start with the last.” I sucked in a stuttered breath. “How long are planning to still be my husband, huh?” I snapped.
He squinted, his brow furrowing. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He licked his lips. “All I’ve ever wanted was to grow old with you. I want you, always. Forever—”
“I saw you, Quinn!” I cut him off. He flinched from my tone but looked utterly clueless. “I was bringing you dinner the other night, but you were driving away so I followed you instead. Figured wherever you were going we could talk there. Imagine my shock when I watched you walk into a fucking divorce lawyer’s office!” Tears rolled down my cheeks but damn it the truth was finally out there. And a little piece of my aching heart felt relief now that it was.
He tilted his head before something flashed behind his eyes, and he closed them. “Is that why you brought us here?” He kept his eyes closed, shaking his head. “And don’t say it’s because you won the stay because I know that’s not true.”
I swallowed hard, sucking in a breath to stop the tears. “Yes,” I said, sighing. “I needed to see.”
“See what?” He rubbe
d his forehead.
“That we were still those kids that fell in love all those years ago. Or, see if Blaire had been the only thing keeping you tied to me.”
“This was a test.” He didn’t say it like a question, and the sadness in his voice swirled my stomach.
“No—”
He finally looked up at me, his glistening eyes cutting off whatever I’d been about to say.
“You couldn’t talk to me.” He shrugged. “Eighteen years and you couldn’t ask me why I went into that office. You didn’t trust me.” He blinked hard, but the water in his eyes simply rolled over his lashes. Stepping closer to me, he looked down at me, pinning me in every way possible without ever touching me. “Have I ever given you a reason to believe I’d want out?”
“Quinn, you’ve never been with anyone else—”
“Neither have you.”
“After Blaire left, and then seeing you go into that building, I thought…” I shifted my weight, his pained stare broke everything inside me that was still together.
He slowly reached out and ran his fingers down my arm. “My whole life I’ve only ever loved one woman. You. And if I die tomorrow, or live to be ninety, I will always love you.” He took a step away from me. “But you not trusting me enough to talk to me? It makes me wonder if you stopped loving me a long time ago.”
Another tear rolled down his cheek as he kept backing up until he was at the front door.
“Quinn,” I whispered. “I’m here. Fighting for you. Of course I love you.”
“Fighting for me?” He shook his head. “Tara, you were testing me. Testing us. When all you had to do was talk to me. Let me in. Let me see where your head was at.” He twisted the knob, pausing in the doorway. “If you did?” A sad smile played at his lips. “You would’ve known that the reason I went to that office was…” He sighed. “The exact opposite of what you’re thinking.” He turned his back on me, walking into the hallway.
“Where are you going?” I asked, bolting to the door to stop it from shutting.
“Giving you space to think.” He turned to face me, and I wanted to fall into his arms but was frozen. “Think about why you kept this to yourself. Why you brought us here. Why you felt the need to hide it all from the one person you’re supposed to trust more than anyone else in the world.”
Intimacy Page 12
