Still, she wasn’t the one to drop that bomb and she was washing her hands of this. If they needed help during the cosmetic phase, Sophie would step in, but only to honor Chelsea. Other than that, they were on their own.
Anger and hurt fought for top place in her heart, and she didn’t know which one was crippling her more. As she reached her car, Sophie rested her hands on the top of the door and cursed herself for the blurry vision and the sting of tears. Zach Monroe wasn’t worth it.
Okay, he was, but she deserved better. All this time he’d tried telling her that, but now she knew. He pushed and pushed her away, and now she understood why.
Why did she have to love a man who was so wrong for her? And why, even after all that just happened, did she still ache for his affection?
Chapter Eleven
There was a level of hell that certain people belonged in for purposely hurting others. Zach was going to be first in that line after the way he’d treated Sophie earlier.
Damn it. He kept telling himself he wouldn’t hurt her and he’d done nothing but. Over and over he’d said things, done things that only expanded that wedge of pain between them. He was best alone, because when he hurt, when he was scared, he lashed out, and every damn time, Sophie had been in the crosshairs.
Now here he stood on her porch, beneath the glow of the antique-style light above her door, ready to grovel if need be. He’d never groveled in his life.
Tapping his scarred knuckles on her door, Zach took a step back and waited. As much as he hated being there, he hated knowing he’d hurt her even more.
And speaking of hurt, his face still throbbed where Braxton had silently voiced his opinion on how Zach handled the situation earlier.
Sophie had been right, though. She’d grown up with Chelsea, loved his family like her own, and often sought refuge when she wanted to get out of the stuffy environment her parents provided. Sophie was part of his life, past and present, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Whether he wanted to face his true feelings for her or continue to hide them, she didn’t deserve the ugliness he kept using as a defense mechanism.
The dead bolt clicked just before the door swung open. Sophie’s eyes widened, then narrowed as she stared back at him. Pulling her silk robe tighter around her curvy body, she clutched the top of the vee. That damn robe . . . the same one his hands had itched to peel off her body the other night.
“What happened to your face?”
“Braxton.”
Sophie nodded as her cat slid against her leg and stared up at him. “Good.”
Leave it to her to not sugarcoat her feelings . . . exactly opposite of him, who hid behind his at every opportunity.
“Can I come in?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, feeling like a complete moron.
“Why should I let you? So you can hurt me again?”
Zach swallowed. He’d known he’d hurt her, damn it, but he hadn’t been able to stop his words. Hearing her say it so boldly, though, did something to him that nearly crushed his soul. He’d die before he hurt her again.
“I want to apologize.”
She said nothing as Zach waited. Waited for her to slam the door in his face, which he deserved. Waited for her to step aside and let him in. Waited for her to verbally attack him and tell him what a jerk he’d been to her for years.
Without a word, Sophie turned and walked away, leaving the door wide open. The cat darted off down the hall, disappearing into what Zach assumed was a bedroom.
He figured the fact that she’d not slammed the door in his face was his cue to come on inside. He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him, trying like hell not to inhale the familiar floral aroma that seemed to hover everywhere Sophie was.
When he stepped into the living room, Sophie was shuffling papers together on the coffee table. One slid to the floor and he crossed to pick it up for her, but froze when he saw the drawing.
A pencil sketch. Similar to the ones in Chelsea’s old apartment. Similar to the framed prints in Sophie’s office.
No, not similar. Exactly the same.
Zach stared another moment before looking back up at her. She held the other sheets against her chest as she stared down at the sketch he held.
“You drew all of these?” he asked, amazed that she had such talent and he’d never known about it.
“Give me the paper, Zach.”
“Why aren’t you selling these?” His eyes roamed over the perfectly placed shadowing, the strong lines of the house.
He stared at a sketch of the Sunset Lake house and was utterly baffled at her ability to capture every single detail. She’d not portrayed the house as it stood now, but a vision of what it would be, what it probably once was.
“I was just doodling. No big deal.”
She reached for the paper and he let her have it. He’d already ingrained the image into his head and there was no way she was blowing this off as a random drawing or a hobby to pass the time.
Sophie took the stack of papers and laid them on top of an antique secretary in the corner of the room. When she turned back around, the opening in her robe had inched farther down, giving him a glimpse of something equally silky and lacy beneath.
He deserved this penance. She was all polished and perfection, smooth and classy. Zach was everything on the opposite end of the spectrum—rough, hard, and dirty.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier,” he started, knowing full well she wasn’t going to say a word and the floor was all his. She wouldn’t make this easy, but she hadn’t kicked him out, so the fact that he was still there was more than he deserved.
“I can’t take it back and I can’t make it right, other than saying I’m sorry. When I hurt, I lash out, and you’re the last person I want to be on the receiving end.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she crossed her arms and remained silent. Zach swallowed, wondering how much he should reveal, how far into his soul he needed to go in order to receive her forgiveness.
“I’m not using my pain as an excuse,” he continued. “There’s no excuse for what I did. I know you love my house, I know you have memories there just like I do, and I know you care about my family, even though I’ve been an ass to you. But I can’t focus on what’s best for everyone and still carry out Chelsea’s wishes, because at the end of the day, that’s what I’m focusing on.”
Sophie nodded. “I know you are, Zach, but after all we’ve been through, after everything in our past, whatever is happening between us now only makes this new pain harder to deal with.”
He didn’t want to address what was going on with them now. And he sure as hell didn’t want to keep getting sidetracked by that creamy exposed skin.
“Nothing is happening now,” Zach stated, wondering if the words came out as strong as he’d intended. “You know why it can’t.”
Sophie tipped her chin in defiance. “I know what I feel. I also know I’m done with trying to get you to open up to how you feel, to face that all of these emotions haven’t gone away in years. Years, Zach. But if you haven’t owned up to your feelings by now, you never will.”
She started across the room with a slight limp, her eyes never meeting his as she walked by. “You’ve apologized, now you can go and feel better about yourself.”
Zach remained still. He didn’t feel better about himself. He didn’t feel good at all, because even though he’d apologized, Sophie was still hurt. Years of his actions, or non-actions, had damaged her.
“Why do you feel anything for me?” he whispered as he stared at her back. “After all I’ve done, why?”
When they were teens he figured she’d developed a crush on him because he was Chelsea’s brother, but Sophie hadn’t looked at Braxton or Liam in such a manner. Then he’d wondered if she wanted someone opposite of her posh upbringing and stiff lifestyle. Being seen with the town bad boy would surely stick it to her snotty parents.
But the more he’d been around her, the more he’d seen she was
with him because she liked him. He’d never questioned it until now. Perhaps he’d been too afraid of her answer.
With her back straight, she replied softly, “I’m not talking about this.”
Zach closed the space between them and stepped up behind her, not touching her, though he’d give anything to have that right.
“I need to know.” He inhaled her sweet, floral scent, closed his eyes for a brief second and savored the moment. “Help me understand what you see, Sophie.”
She whirled around, her eyes blazing. “You know what I see? I see a broken man who won’t let anyone in. I see a man who has so many people who care for him, but he continues to push them away. I see a man who took in stray puppies because deep in his heart he cares, though he doesn’t want to admit it.”
Zach listened to her, watched her lips move, and each time she moved her hands to emphasize the words, that robe slipped open a little more.
“I see a man who looks at me with desire and holds himself back,” she murmured. “A man who deserves to be happy, but won’t afford himself the chance.”
Reaching out, Zach slid his rough fingertips over the silky edge of her robe and slowly pulled it back up over her exposed shoulder. When the material was back in place, Zach couldn’t remove his hand. He kept telling himself to, but the message wasn’t fully computing.
Sophie trembled beneath his touch, her eyes locked onto his. “Go, Zach. I can’t take any more of this back-and-forth. Please—”
He cut her off with a kiss.
Zach wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her lush body in against his. Cupping her cheek with his other hand, he had no control over his actions. She’d begged him to go, not because she really wanted him to but because there was so much angst between them.
And kissing the hell out of her wouldn’t solve anything, but it sure felt perfect right at this moment.
Sophie sighed and leaned further into him. Her delicate hands slid up his shoulders and around his neck. Her fingers slid through the hair on the nape of his neck and sent tingles down his spine. Tingles. He’d never experienced tingles with any other woman in his life.
Slowly easing her back against the wall, he placed a hand on either side of her head as he held her body up with his own. She fit against him perfectly . . . as if he needed any further confirmation of how amazing they’d be together.
But that didn’t make it right.
Zach lifted his mouth, resting his forehead against hers.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” she muttered. “Don’t regret this.”
“I don’t regret kissing you, Sophie. I regret knowing this can’t go anywhere.”
Sliding her hands around, she framed his face and lifted his head to look him straight in the eyes. “I’m not asking you for anything, Zach. All I want is for you to be honest with yourself, with me.”
“You don’t want my honesty,” he groaned.
“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t want to own up to the truth.”
How could this one woman reach inside his heart and squeeze it? How was it that anyone could have pegged him so perfectly?
Damn it, his hands were shaking.
“I want you,” he confessed. “More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. But there’s so much about my past, so much darkness that I can’t subject you to. And beyond sex, I have nothing to offer.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not shying away from sex. And as for your past, I’m not afraid,” she told him with a soft smile. “You think I don’t know you had a rough childhood? I may not know the details, but nothing you tell me would change how I feel.”
There were only a handful of people who knew the truth: the social workers and his parents. Chelsea had known some of what he’d been through because they’d shared stories on occasion.
But having that ugly truth enter Sophie’s life, having her look at him with pity—or worse, disgust—would kill him.
Sliding his thumbs along her jawline, he watched as her lids lowered and her lips parted. Unable to help himself, he covered her mouth with his again.
He’d never taken such time with kissing a woman before, but he wanted to know Sophie’s touch, taste. He wanted to know every bit of her, but he still couldn’t let himself get beyond that last hurdle.
Because nobody had ever mattered as much as Sophie. There were other women, too many women, but they weren’t Sophie. She’d always been special, always been on a higher level. And the fact that she made him face his feelings scared the hell out of him.
Pulling away, he stared down at her. Flushed from his kisses, robe falling off her shoulder again to tempt him with all that exposed skin, and her eyes filled with passion, Sophie was the most tempting woman he’d ever known, and she wasn’t even trying.
“I’m going to go,” he told her, using every bit of his willpower not to take what she was offering. “I’m not leaving because I don’t want you, I’m leaving because I do. I’m giving us both time to figure this out.”
Giving her time to change her mind and come to her senses.
“Ten years hasn’t been enough?” she asked with a smile. “Don’t make this more complicated than it needs to be.”
“For the first time in my life, I’m thinking something through.” Reaching out, Zach slid a finger over her forehead and pushed her hair away from her face. “Trust me, next time we’re alone, if you still want this, you better be ready. It’s all I have to give, and you need to be fully aware nothing could happen beyond the bedroom.”
“You better keep that promise, Zach, because I’ve been ready for you for years.”
Sophie’s bold statement had him fighting to walk out her door and do the right thing. Now that she was fully aware that he was on board, she needed to think about this. Hell, he needed to process it fully himself.
Was he really going to get involved with Sophie? Did she really believe that this was not complicated? How could it not be complicated? Their twisted past had so many curves and highs and lows, he never knew what life was going to throw at them next.
But he knew one thing: He deserved a damn medal for walking out of her house knowing full well she was aching for him as much as he was for her.
* * *
“Are you sure you have time for this?”
Macy sat at the island in Zach’s kitchen with a worried look on her face.
“I’m positive,” he assured her as he pulled out the takeout she’d brought. “If you feed me each time we get together to discuss your house plans, the process may even go faster.”
Laughing, Macy pulled out her phone. “Well, I have several pictures, and I’m afraid they’re all different designs, so you may change your mind.”
The puppies in the next room were yipping louder than usual. Most likely they smelled the takeout.
“Your friends in there want attention,” Macy stated.
“They’re fine. They just like to make noise and they never seem to care what time it is. Feel free to take them when you leave.”
Macy laughed. “Poor baby. Are they keeping you up?”
He glared back. “Shut up or I’ll drop them all off at your place.”
“Speaking of my house, the pictures I have for you to look at are all over the place in regards to design.”
“I’m sure they have some features in common.” He pulled out two plates and started filling them with rice and chicken. “Most people won’t see that, but if they’re all your style, then there’s usually a common thread.”
He handed Macy a glass of tea and her plate before settling next to her on the other bar stool.
“You gonna tell me about that shiner?” she asked as she scooped up a healthy forkful of rice.
“My brother.”
Her brow quirked. “Liam? You tell him about the house?”
Shaking his head, Zach cut into his chicken. “Braxton took out some frustration. I deserved it, so I let it slide.”
Macy laughed. “So you haven’t
told Liam? You may have a matching eye after you do.”
“Let’s look at your pictures while we eat,” he suggested, turning the topic away from his slight differences with his brothers. “After we’re done we can get into more details.”
“I’ll let you change the subject, but only because I’m anxious to discuss my house.”
She pulled up her images and as Zach studied them, he realized quickly how her tastes matched his own. He was going to enjoy this project, especially because Macy had a good amount of sense when it came to what was possible. Too many clients asked for the impossible and occasionally got angry when they realized he wasn’t a magician.
“You’re wanting a two-story,” he muttered as he scrolled through her images. “You like stone, but there are several variations in color and sizing here.”
Macy took a drink and pointed to the current picture on the screen. “That’s the stone I’m not in love with. I want the type with more of a variation of colors. I have that picture because I like the style of that entryway and the narrow window above the door.”
Nodding, Zach kept flipping through her images, studying each one with a skilled eye. As they ate and discussed the photos, he was able to get a better idea of what she wanted and was pretty confident he could narrow it down to a couple different designs that should please her.
“If you’re finished, just leave the plates,” he told her. “I’ll clean up later.”
“I’ll at least put them in the sink.” Macy gathered the two plates and took them across the kitchen. “I’m not one hundred percent sold on the two-story. The main thing I know I want is a large garage with an apartment on the back for Dad.”
Zach paused. “Is your dad okay with that?”
Macy turned, leaning back against the counter. “We’ve had a few heated debates over the matter, but he sees my reasoning. We’re really all each other has, and he still wants to keep his independence. I’ve stayed at home with him long enough. We both need our space, but we also still want to be close.”
Macy was a noble, loyal woman. She’d gone to college on a softball scholarship, but ended up coming home when her mother had a stroke and passed away. Macy always said she’d go back, but she’d started helping her dad in the store and now she was co-owner of the popular business.
Wrapped in You Page 14
