AMAZING HEART (Broken Bottles Series Book 4)

by Pamela Taeuffer

  "I've seen the veins stand out in your neck," he teased cautiously. "You were so angry."

  "Yeah." My fingers naturally wove together with his. Lifting his hand to my mouth, I kissed it, holding him to my lips. Took a deep breath. Let it out. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight."

  "Oh, my baby." His serene blue eyes compelled me to look more deeply into them. He put his hand on my cheek. "Let me finish your other leg and then we can sit down. Or maybe you'd rather go to sleep? I'll turn down the bed."

  "No, I don't want to sleep yet." I might wake up from this moment and find it was only a dream. "I'm not tired."

  "How's your headache? Should we take your blood pressure reading?"

  "I don't have a headache anymore thanks to you and Dr. Welluck."

  His hands went back to their task, pressing on my thigh, moving down my entire leg, making it loose and relaxed. Paths of white heat disappeared into my skin, leaving only the memory of his fingers on me. The arch of my foot came to life as his thumb traced its curve. All of the pressure points inside me begged for his body to touch mine. God, I needed his hands on me. When his fingers slid in and out of the spaces between my toes I thought I might slip off the side of the tub and onto the floor. The feel of each toe being spread apart, gliding in the movements of sex . . . in and out . . . in . . . out . . . it was incredibly erotic. I closed my eyes and succumbed to his silent message.

  "How was that?" He said too quickly, placing my foot down onto the rug.

  "Really nice," I purred.

  It was so much more than nice and you know it.

  Ryan pulled the lever to let the bathwater drain.

  "There's the robe I bought." He nodded to an incredibly lush robe hanging on a hook at the entrance to his two-person shower. "Will you let me put it on you?"

  "Um . . ."

  "I'll close my eyes. Just drop your towel and I'll hold it out for you." He seemed as excited as a young boy. "I can't wait to . . . you wearing it—it's like we're really together. You're here. I'm here." He took a few steps toward the shower. Taking the robe from its hanger, walked back to me, grasped the shoulders, and held it up. All I had to do was slip my arms into it.

  "Thank you." I dropped the towel from my body and slipped into the luxuriousness of the heavy terry cloth robe. "Mmm." I petted the material. Oh crap, I just moaned for him. "This is nice." I giggled watching as kept his eyes closed. "You can open your eyes now."

  "I'm glad you like it. I couldn't wait until you came over so I could show it to you. I'm only sorry this was what brought you back to me." Regret wove through his voice.

  "Me, too."

  "I made you some warm granola and milk. There's also more soup and some hot tea. I'll put them on the coffee table for you. If none of those sound good I'll go get you something else. Has your stomach settled?"

  "All of those sound good," I considered which treat might be the most soothing. "I'm not nauseous anymore."

  "Is your headache completely gone now?" he asked a second time.

  "Gone with the bathwater." I tightened the cloth belt of the robe.

  "Thank God." Relief shadowed his words and his mouth slipped into a smile. "I'll leave the door open and wait for you on the couch. If you need anything, just call me."

  "Thank you." I shoved my hands into the thick terry cloth pockets. As he closed the door behind him, dozens of questions rushed through my mind.

  Who was Ryan Tilton?

  Was he really in control of himself and his sexual urges?

  Was he a man who needed women when he was away or the man comforting me now?

  Maybe he's your big Papa Bear and your big love.

  For whatever reason, putting on the plush, voluptuous robe made me feel like I belonged at his apartment. I was his woman. The full-length of it made me feel like his princess—corny, but that's exactly how I felt. I was comfortable, relaxed, and enjoyed being his.

  Still, a tough conversation remained ahead. Could I say what was on my mind after what he'd just done for me? Dare I bring up Jesse? I knew I had to, but how could I without dismissing everything that had just been mended? Had anything really been repaired?

  I didn't want to get angry and take the chance of raising my blood pressure to dangerous levels, but then again . . . wasn't it time to stop shoving issues aside? How many years had my family done this same thing? How long was I going to reinforce the cycle of being passive, keeping peace at all costs, instead of daring to disrupt the sickness that permeated my family?

  The time had come.

  I needed to stop the circle of dysfunction and pretend.

  All my family had ever accomplished with our postponement and delays of talking about a problem was perpetuating the hurt. The dark feeling we tried to avoid would slither from the shadows and turn into a monster because we hadn't dealt with it immediately.

  Ryan couldn't be let off the hook this time.

  He had to understand how making decisions for me made me feel like an incapable child. Additionally, Jesse seemed to know I was staying home when she'd texted me about their sex life. I needed Ryan to see me as a woman; one he'd respect and be faithful to, rather than giving in to sex with another who was easier to handle or seduce.

  As the fog lifted and the issues for me had become clear, the biggest question remained: was it fair to make Ryan, who was at the prime of his sexual and physical life, wait for my decision about physical intimacy? In trying to convince me that he would, was he trying to believe it, too?

  Maybe I should tell him he's lovely, spend the night in his guest bedroom, and then go home tomorrow morning. Isn't the smartest thing for each of us to move on? Aren't the differences between us too wide to overcome? If I didn't give it my all right now, with this man, would I always come to the decision that someone wasn't right for me?

  I removed the towel from my head and combed my hair. When it was wet, it fell to the middle of my behind. I loved feeling it cascade down my shoulders, arms and back. My long-flowing, wavy hair was the only physical attribute in which I had confidence. After taking a deep breath, I turned off the bathroom light. I made sure the robe's belt was tied securely around my waist and padded into the living room with bare feet.

  The bowl of warm granola, soup, and a mug of hot tea waited for me on the coffee table. Ryan rested on the sofa, his eyes closed and his head back, listening to music. When he heard my bare feet on the wooden floor, he opened his eyes and watched me sit down. Once I was next to him, he straightened to reach for the granola and then handed it to me.

  "God, you're beautiful." The rasp in his voice was completely disarming. "Every light inside of you seems to be on. You turn on those same lights in me. Your faith in people—and in us—comes right to the surface."

  "Thank you." Take the compliment and don't talk. I was embarrassed and looked toward the balcony. The sliding glass door was open. Did you leave it open because you remembered I like that?

  As if some balance had been restored, the usual San Francisco weather had returned. The delicate evening breezes at the ballpark had vanished into the dark night, and the cool, foggy air had taken its place. The fire in Ryan's fireplace sent a shadowy glow around the room.

  "Mmm this tastes and feels good." I dipped my spoon in the hot cereal, blew on it, and then sipped the comforting meal. Every part of my body had lost the stress that gripped me earlier in the evening. God, I'm so comfortable and relaxed. I could sit here . . . forever? I put my knees up against my stomach, making sure the robe wrapped around my legs. The only skin showing was my bare feet.

  Although I was relaxed and completely soothed from Ryan's earlier massage, I felt something was ready to break open in the air.

  Suddenly, I knew our destination was a part of a higher power—it was big.

  A desire for a different life called to me.

  I felt its message tugging, pulling, and coaxing me inside new affirmations, daring me to trust them.

  A door had opened.

  T
ransition had extended its hand and invited me to enter.

  I took a step.

  Its voice was tender and sweet.

  Its beckoning was strong and forceful.

  The seduction of a unique life circled us. I wondered if this was our moment of heaven. Were we mist in the air, back from some ancient time, circling around and covering each other as our lives were changing and connecting once again?

  I didn't want to fall back to the way I used to live: keeping secrets, staying quiet about uncomfortable situations, always keeping my distance from others, and above all making sure no one got close enough to look inside my heart. That was where the darkness lurked, the place where I sliced people out of my life, where I had carved away love and the possibility for something more. It was where I kept trust locked away tight and buried deep.

  "Feel better?" Ryan said.

  "Yes," I whispered with a satisfied sigh of relief.

  My eyes closed and my mind was serene; but then . . . my unresolved turbulence surrounding Jesse's text surfaced from the dark.

  No! Don't let him off that easy! Let him have it.

  My mind had cleared. I couldn't have been more at peace. Still, the vision of them together wouldn't let me stay silent. The image of their mouths kissing and their naked bodies sliding together had become hard-stamped in my brain.

  Returning now, it crashed into our present.

  At the risk of losing him once again, I had to speak up. If I didn't challenge my fears that night, I knew I never would—and neither would Ryan. When it came to being together, this would be our end if we pushed what had happened under the rug of secrets.

  Wrapped in the chains of my family's dysfunctional generations, all of us locked together in shadows because we never took a risk to change . . . something . . . that had to be over.

  Chapter 26

  Pushing Jesse Out

  of My Head

  The hurt child in my psyche burst through with a vengeance. I should have discussed my concerns in a calm and rational manner. I had known only one way when it came to dealing with pain—detach and become numb.

  That tactic had passed.

  That method was a part of another woman's life.

  This woman wanted Ryan to feel it. Feel rejection and abandonment the same way I felt it—clawing and fighting to experience love—I wanted him to understand my hurt. I had been in pieces and he needed to suffer, too. My only desire in that moment was to paint the picture of another man's mouth on my mouth and sear the vision into his brain, just as Jesse was in mine.

  Straightening, my finger pointed, I prepared to confront my demons.

  Were they my demons?

  Whose demons were they?

  He was the one who'd cheated.

  Yet, I was the one who cut him off and wouldn't discuss it.

  No longer could I react in fear or be afraid to talk it over.

  I had to stay involved until there was a resolution.

  He needed to see my dark side and I needed to see his.

  "Why did you cheat on me with Jesse? I begged you to tell me the truth. You dismissed her to me like she meant nothing and then took her in your arms when you needed her." My hands clenched into fists. My body had grown in power. Instead of trembling, my voice was strong and my heart pounded with the drums of my cavewomen ancestors.

  "Worse of all, you dismissed me. And right after you told me not to come on your road trip, I got a text from your sex friend telling me to stay away. I told you right from the beginning you needed to be with someone your age. Those women understand your physical body in ways that I don't. I'll step aside. I only wanted you to be honest. I know I'm difficult and what I'd asked of you wasn't easy." I gripped the ties of the robe. "All you had to do was be honest with me."

  I sank back into the couch. Like a ghost that had returned, sadness rose to overtake the power I felt only moments ago.

  I knew this demon wouldn't let go easily.

  He'll abandon you, Nicky. Shh . . . you'd better settle down. Just keep it all inside you, and it will be okay. Haven't you learned this lesson? You have to keep the peace and forge on.

  NO!! What are you saying? It's right in front of you. This is the risk you need to take. Your time is now.

  I heard the chains rattling—the ones that bound the men and women in my family. They were straining. They had to break. Tonight.

  "All I asked was that you please, please, not go with someone else while you were with me." My chin began to lift. "Why couldn't you give me that much?"

  "Stop it!" Ryan moved next to me. His hip touched mine. Both of his hands were on my shoulders. His fingers dug into my back.

  I gasped in shock, never before seeing this side of him. When it came right down to it—hadn't it been deliberate and calculated?

  Weren't we both responsible for this crash of misunderstanding and the upcoming battle?

  It was time for us to uncover the darkness—his and mine—buried under the dozens of layers we'd been such experts in hiding from the rest of the world.

  He had gripped the evil deep within me. Had it in his hands. It was the evil that refused me happiness. Doubt pulsed through my body. I wanted him to yank it out of me. Silently I begged him to do it. At the same time I was afraid I had pushed him too far. I wanted to run as fast as I could, escaping from his arms and hiding away forever so I wouldn't have to hear, "goodbye."

  He's going to end our relationship this very minute. I should never have told him I loved him. I should have let the incident with Jesse go and not backed him into a corner.

  My urge to grab a bag of chocolate and devour it pulled at me. Scoops of ice cream piled high in a bowl with hot fudge sauce, a bag of salty potato chips with sour cream and onion dip, a fresh peach with rich cream and sugar all over it . . . I was already detaching in food's delicious escape.

  Could I finally focus on this man, this love, this life?

  Although his hands trembled, they were filled with enough courage to wrap around my waist and lift me onto his lap. Ryan's gaze was steady. His eyes held mine. He took my hand in his and placed it on his heart.

  Something unexpected happened.

  His inner hero rose up to possess me.

  He took over my fear, hesitation and the shadows inside. He had my darkness by the throat. I felt transported to the day he first introduced himself—the day he lifted my hand and kissed it. When he began talking, his voice was subdued. His movements were slow and purposeful.

  "You've judged me, yet again, without hearing what I have to say.” His voice was low and even. "Jesse was in my room and we were having sex. Does that about sum up your conclusions?"

  I didn't respond.

  Stayed focused on his eyes.

  "Why won't you let me talk to you when we have a challenge?"

  Silence.

  "I tried all week to reach you. Instead of answering my calls and listening to what I have to say, you pound me down with insults. You hold yourself so high above me, don't you?"

  "What do you mean? I don’t—"

  “Impossible standards—you set them for yourself and now you've challenged me to live up to them. And yet," his eyes narrowed. "What have you been doing? Why can't I ever get a hold of you when I leave? Who are you out with that you can't answer when I call you? Tell me you haven't seen Jerry. Tell me that you told him in no uncertain terms you love me."

  I tried. I did. I didn't give in . . . did I? I wanted to tell him. I made every attempt. Why didn't I tell him? Why do I always consider other people's feelings before my own? When will I be strong and decisive and stop trying to keep the peace? When will I make myself be heard and finally ask for what I want?

  A dark anger simmered beneath his surface. I could see it in his eyes. Had his demon come to tear us apart? Did I need to reach inside him and grab his fear as he was trying to do for me? There was no smile or tease on his face. He was serious and wouldn't let go of me. I tried to pull away, but he refused to release me. I was he
ld captive within his strength and all that he was.

  He took a deep breath.

  I suddenly felt merged with his body.

  He still loved me.

  Even after I'd lost control, even after I'd hurled my anger and insults at him, he understood it was from fear and was talking it through. Confusion swept through me. Then only seconds later it became apparent—my demon was now his and his demon was mine. This was our night to send them back to eternal hell.

  I held my hand firmly against his chest.

  "How did Jesse know my number, Ryan?"

  "That's all I've been thinking about." His neck was stiff and his body tightened.

  "I've been suffocating in visions of the two of you having sex. My mind keeps repeating her text. Her written words flash through my head once every few minutes. They vibrate inside of me and keep tugging on my heartbreak." I struggled to continue. "I know it's true, Ryan." My voice splintered. "How could it not be?"

  "Not anymore. I swore to you that I haven't been with anyone since the beginning of May. I promised you. That hasn't changed, Nicky." He lifted me off his lap, walked to the kitchen counter, grabbed his cell phone and sat next to me. "Here's my list of contacts." He showed me the list in his phone. "Tell me the women's names you see."

  "I'm not looking through your phone." I remained stubborn. "How would I know who anyone is in there? Besides, you could cover your tracks by deleting the names and numbers before you came home. Maybe you have your babes hidden under some secret category."

  "I don't have categories. The only women's numbers I have in my phone are you, our moms, Frances, your sister, my agent and my financial advisor."