by Tess Summers
Jacob had opened the door leading to the balcony so he could hear if she went out on hers. He heard voices and peeked his head out to see dinner being delivered to her table outside. Come to think of it, he was hungry, too, so he picked up the phone on the desk and also requested room service—offering a hundred-dollar tip if his sandwich was there in less than ten minutes. That did the trick because the steward delivered his food to the table on his balcony in nine. He handed the man a hundred-dollar bill while thanking him on his way out, grabbed a beer from the mini fridge, and walked outside to find her sitting in a chair, staring at the ocean with a wine glass in her hand. None of the food on her plate seemed to have been touched.
She gasped and almost dropped her glass when he asked, “Penny for your thoughts.”
Penny for your thoughts? Did I really just say that?
With narrowed eyes, she accused, “You’re next door? Isn’t that convenient.”
If she thought he’d be sheepish or ashamed, she should have known better.
“I thought so. I especially like the adjoining door between our cabins so we don’t even have to go out in the hall to be together.”
Taren shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. “Have you no shame? Do you even know how to be contrite?”
He was leaning on the railing now, as close to her balcony as he could physically get.
“When it comes to you? No, I have no shame. And yes, I do know how to be contrite—I’ll do my penance as long it takes to win you back. But we both know I’m not going to get you to marry me without taking some bold measures.”
She choked on her wine, her hand going to her chest as she sputtered, “Marry you? You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Not even a little bit, Tinkerbell.”
She stared at him for a minute, then began to swirl the Riesling around in her glass as she looked out at the moonlit waves.
“You’ve got some pretty big cajones. I’ll give you that, Jake.”
The better to fuck you with, baby.
He lifted his chin toward her plate.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“Because of me?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Why?”
Shooting him a look of disbelief, she asked, “Did you seriously just ask me, why?”
Unapologetic, he nodded. “Yeah, why?”
He must have hit a nerve because she set her glass down harshly and shot out of her chair, with one hand on her hip while she thrust her finger in his direction.
“Do you have any idea what it did to me when you left? Any idea?”
Jacob had already known she didn’t leave her house for a month after he broke up with her, but he knew he wasn’t going to like hearing it from her, and was feeling queasy about where this conversation was going. He hung his head and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Her voice went up an octave. “You’re sorry? I couldn’t get out of bed for a month. I lost fifteen pounds. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I didn’t care whether I lived or died. In fact, there were times I wanted to die because I just wanted to stop hurting. It took me years—years, Jacob—to even trust a man enough to go on a date again.”
He didn’t know to respond. “I’m so sorry.”
She glossed over his apology. “So now you want me to just forget all that and pretend it never happened and pick up right where we left off?”
“No,” he said in a low voice. “I know I have a lot to make up for. I know I have to earn your forgiveness. I told you, I’m prepared to do whatever I have to do, for as long as it takes until I have your trust again.”
She folded her arms, pushing her boobs up. It took every bit of his willpower not to stare.
“Why now, Jake?”
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
She appeared to be enjoying their power shift and her demeanor reflected it. Enjoy it while it lasts, my little fairy.
She tossed her hair and repeated herself like he was hard of hearing. “Why. Now. Why, after seven years are you back? What’s changed? Did you get tired of my replacement?”
That got his ire up, and he found himself raising his voice. “First of all, there was no fucking replacement. I haven’t been in a relationship since you, Taren.”
That seemed to catch her off guard and tempered her attitude, momentarily at least. She quickly glanced away and picked up her wine glass and began to fidget with the stem.
“So why then?” she whispered softly.
Jacob sighed. He knew he was going to have to tell her the whole dirty truth about his life, but not yet. It would be way too much, too soon, for her to take in. Instead, he vaguely replied, “Because I couldn’t go one more day without you. I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity when I learned you were single again.”
“Yeah, about that. I find it hard to believe that your timing was so perfect that you started looking for me right when I became divorced.”
“Tinkerbell, I’ve always kept an eye on you, in one form or another.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He should have known she wouldn’t let him say something cryptic like that without demanding more information. Idiot.
“It means I’ve always made sure you were safe and doing okay.”
“Oh my god, you’re talking in circles. If you’re not going to be straight with me, our conversation is done.”
She set her glass down then turned to leave and he called after her, “Wait!” causing her to stop and slowly turn back around, arms crossed at her chest again. This time, he took his time staring at her tits before lifting his eyes to meet hers. He could only grovel so much.
“What do you want to know?”
She flung her arms down in exasperation, causing her boobs to bounce. “I swear to god, Jake… You already fucking know what I want to know.”
He knew she was really pissed when she started to swear. Time to provide some information as a peace offering. She wasn’t going to like it.
“I have a private investigator on my payroll check on you occasionally and provide me with reports and photos.”
“A private investigator? Following me? For how long?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “About a week after I left, I had someone check on you every couple of months; I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. When you started dating him, I stopped—I couldn’t stand seeing you two together. Except I couldn’t stay away and started checking on you every so often. Last year, you looked so sad, and a friend of mine said something that stuck with me… I’ve been keeping regular track of you ever since.”
“What did your friend say?”
“That just because you’d moved on, didn’t mean he was the better man for you. I knew my friend was right. No one would be better for you than me.”
Tears were flowing down her face.
“You son-of-a-bitch. Of course he wasn’t the better man for me, but you didn’t want me, remember?”
“Tink… it wasn’t that I—”
She held her hand in the universal ‘stop’ gesture and shook her head.
“No, save it. You left. You disappeared and never contacted me again. Don’t you dare tell me you wanted me. If you wanted me, you would have had me. Just because you kept track of me doesn’t mean shit.” She turned on her heel toward her cabin but stopped and looked back at him. “I don’t want to see you again. Stay away from me.”
And with that, she walked inside and closed the door. He heard the click of the lock catching and threw his head back with a sigh. So much for being honest with her. Fuck!
****
Taren
He’s been ‘keeping an eye on me’ for seven years? Seven fucking years? And he never once reached out to me? Not once? Fuck him.
Chapter Five
Taren
She made sure she was up and gone before 8:00 a.m. Her anger
had dissipated with sleep, and she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to resist him if he showed up at her door to take her to breakfast.
So she spent the day at the spa where she’d be guaranteed not to run into him, since it wasn’t co-ed. Massage, haircut, manicure, pedicure, steam room, whirlpool, facial… she’d done it all. If you’re going to hide out for the day, Taren would definitely recommend that as the place to do so.
She didn’t know what to make of Jake keeping track of her all these years. Last night, she was livid that he’d been keeping tabs on her but never bothered to actually see her. What was the point then? And how unfair was it that he got to know what she was doing, but she’d no idea what or who he was doing—or where. Or even if he were still alive.
Still, learning that, a small part of her felt… loved? How messed up was that? But it was that feeling that kept the anger at bay and let her enjoy her day.
Feeling relaxed as she made her way through the ship’s hallways in the big, fluffy, white robe and disposable sandals given to her at the spa, she started planning her evening. Dinner, then the comedy club show, and maybe after that, if she wasn’t too tired, she’d check out the nightclub. She was mentally going through her wardrobe choices when she opened her cabin door and stopped short. There he was—sitting on her couch in grey dress slacks and a white button down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows to showcase his ridiculously expensive watch, Scotch in hand. His other arm was thrown along the back of the cushions, left foot on his right knee, perched like he owned the place. She should have been expecting this.
“Look, Jake,” she snarled as the door closed behind her. “Just because you paid for my trip doesn’t mean you can come into my room uninvited.”
“I was worried maybe you’d jumped ship. Glad to see that’s not the case. I’ll be sure to have your spa day charged to my room, since I have a feeling I was the cause of you needing it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed as she opened the wardrobe door.
She felt his presence behind her, and he reached in front of her to pull out her mint green dress.
“Wear this one,” he instructed in her ear. “With your new haircut, you’ll definitely look like my Tinkerbell.”
She took the dress from him and hung it back up, pulling out the black one instead and walking toward the bathroom. Dammit, she’d actually been planning on wearing the green one.
“I’m not your Tinkerbell. Not anymore,” she said flatly before pulling the door shut behind her.
“Yes, you are. You’ll always be mine.”
****
Jacob
“You should’ve thought about that before you dumped me seven years ago,” she sassily called from the other side of the locked door.
“Someday I’ll explain it all to you, and you’ll understand I had no choice,” he answered vaguely.
She opened the door a crack and peered out at him.
“Someday? Why not now?”
“Because…” and she promptly closed the door in his face, relocking it once she did.
“Blah, blah, blah. Until you’re ready to explain this bullshit to me, we have nothing left to talk about. You can go now; you’ve seen I haven’t jumped ship and am safe and sound.” She cracked the door again and eyed him with disdain, “That is your specialty, isn’t it? Making sure I’m safe and sound but leaving me alone.”
He moved toward the door, and she quickly slammed it and locked it again.
“You’re awfully brave behind a locked door, little one.”
Wisely, she didn’t take the bait and remained in her perceived safety. Not that the flimsy latch could have kept him out if he’d really wanted to get to her. But he needed to play nice if he desired any chance of being with her. Last night on the balcony had been a severe setback, and he only had eight more days before they returned to San Diego where they’d both get on a plane. If he wanted it to be to the same destination, he needed to behave. His sexual prowess was only going to get him so far with her; although yesterday’s escapade had been pretty goddamn amazing. She’d certainly seemed to enjoy it—right up until she’d kicked him to the curb, that is.
“Hurry up, would ya? I’m starving.”
Taren opened the door, completely dressed and utterly stunning.
“I’m not having dinner with you,” she stated matter-of-factly as she walked into the room, opened a drawer, and pulled out a traveling jewelry box. He peered over her shoulder at her jewelry and saw a tennis bracelet he had once given her. Reaching around her, he plucked it out of the grey velvet case, wrapped it tenderly around her wrist, and fastened the clasp.
“I’m glad to see you’ve kept this and still wear it,” he said in a low voice, completely ignoring her declaration that she wasn’t having dinner with him, and slowly stroking his thumb in circles along her inner wrist, one of her erogenous zones if he remembered correctly.
She snatched her hand back and rubbed her wrist vigorously where he’d been caressing. “Pffft, I don’t still wear this.”
“Then why’d you bring it with you?”
“I—I must have grabbed it out of my jewelry armoire by accident.”
He smirked and put his hand in his pocket as he casually leaned against the wall. “Sure, Tink. Whatever you say.”
“Then… then, I guess I forgot you were the one to give it to me.”
He knew she was trying to wound him. If he thought for a second she was telling the truth, she might have.
With a smug grin, he replied, “No, you didn’t.”
She stammered for a comeback and seemed at a loss for something clever to say, so Jacob seized on the opportunity.
“Shall we go to dinner?”
She appeared so rattled about the bracelet, she didn’t even argue with him as he escorted her out the door with his hand on the small of her back.
Chapter Six
Taren
Damn that man. He thinks he’s so clever.
She loved her diamond bracelet; even after being dumped by him, she never traveled without it. She hardly ever wore it, but to her, it was her lucky charm—which was ironic considering how unlucky she’d been without him. It didn’t take a psychology degree to figure out why she felt the attachment to the inanimate object. It symbolized a time when Jacob was by her side, and she’d felt like she could conquer the world.
Taren never discussed Jacob after they broke up. Ever. So if someone only met her in the last seven years, they wouldn’t know anything about him. David didn’t have a clue he’d even existed, so her husband never questioned when she would occasionally wear a piece of jewelry he’d given her. But Jake was never far from her thoughts.
Reflecting on it, she realized her marriage hadn’t stood a chance. The ghost of Jacob Smith had always been there in the background. She’d find herself comparing David to Jake, and unfortunately, her husband never measured up. Before she even married him, she’d come to terms that he’d never compare to her first love—but he was there for her, and Jacob wasn’t. Then she discovered his affairs—plural, and with her friends, no less. That’s when she knew it was time to end things. Unfortunately, it took a while to find the courage and strength to go through with it. The new job definitely helped; she wouldn’t have to rely on anyone to pay her rent if she left, not to mention the confidence boost it’d given her to have a headhunter call her out of the blue, saying someone had passed her resume on to him and would she be interested in talking.
She’d worn the tennis bracelet to the headhunter interview and walked out with a job offer with a salary and benefits she’d never even imagined. When the paperwork was official and her signing bonus hit her new checking account after she’d made it past her ninety days’ probation, she filed for divorce.
She stopped short and turned to Jake.
The pieces were falling into place.
“You’re the one who sent my resume to the headhunter, aren’t you?”
He looked at her with a blank face,
obviously trying to decipher the best way to answer.
Finally, he touched her elbow gently and said, “Don’t be mad. I didn’t do much, just made a few calls.”
It was tempting to milk the situation, but she didn’t have the heart. Besides, she had plenty of other things for leverage right now.
Instead, she lovingly cupped his cheek. Obviously not what he was expecting, because he flinched. She’d never slap him, although he probably knew he deserved it. But not for this.
With a small smile, she looked into his beautiful green eyes and said, “Thank you,” before standing on her tiptoes and kissing the other side of his face softly.
When she was flatfooted again—well, as flatfooted as she could be in heels, his hand slid around her waist, and he bent down to murmur in her ear, “I’m the better man for you, Tink. Let me prove it.”
She closed her eyes and pressed against him.
“I don’t think my heart would survive being broken again by you, Jake.”
“Mine neither, baby,” he said, resting his cheek on top of her head while running his fingers up and down her back. “Mine neither.”
****
Jacob
She didn’t pull away from his embrace—that was a start. And she’d kept his bracelet. The one he’d given her the first time he’d told her he loved her.
“What do you say we play a little game?” she said as they started walking toward the restaurant.
With one eyebrow raised, he suspiciously asked, “What kind of game?”
“Let’s pretend we’re meeting for the first time tonight. No baggage from our past.”
He liked that idea—a lot.
“Okay.”
“But.”
Of course there was a but.
“We can’t lie about anything.”
