by Lori Foster
“Go ahead. Don’t spare me.”
“No, I won’t. You can take the truth, and somehow I think you need to hear it.”
Funny, but the string of insults really did make him feel better. If Cherry knew his faults, then maybe she also knew of the loyalty that would keep him from ever betraying someone he loved.
Even though his father hadn’t known.
She wasn’t done yet. “As much as you might deny it, you have a temper. I felt the sting of it today.”
“We’re back to that?” Shit. He hated that he’d made her feel so bad. “If I could redo it, I would. There’s no good excuse, I know, but it was a totally fucked-up day, and with Pamela there and Armie with you and—”
She waved that off. “You’re usually fair, proven by your willingness to apologize.”
The praise was a little harder to take than the criticism. “Maybe I just want to get laid.”
“There’s that, I’m sure. You’re the most over-sexed person I’ve ever known.”
“No such thing.” He couldn’t get the smile off his face. “And if you weren’t so sexy—”
“But,” she interrupted, “it’s also that you have a lot of honor. When you’re wrong, you admit it.” She took a deep breath. “So I know if you’d done anything with Pamela, you’d take half the blame. Instead, you seem to hate her.”
He resented her more than anything, but didn’t want to argue semantics.
Cherry’s voice, her posture, her expression all softened. “So what happened?”
The complete and total faith humbled him. In that moment, he knew the truth. He more than adored Cherry Peyton, more than lusted for her.
He loved her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“DENVER?” HE WAS so quiet, so still, it worried Cherry. “You okay?”
Looking a little dazed, he nodded. “Yeah.”
Did his voice sound funny? She leaned closer. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Then why were his biceps bunched under her hand? Why did he keep swallowing? Hoping to soothe him, she rubbed his shoulder—and gave herself a thrill. She couldn’t touch Denver without reacting.
Get your mind off sex, she ordered herself—a very tall order when it came to Denver. She licked her lips and made a magnanimous offer. “If you’d rather not talk about it right now, I can wait.”
He checked the rearview mirror, the side mirror, then turned a corner. “It’s okay. I was just thinking.”
“About?”
His eyes narrowed. “How special you are.”
“Oh.” A little flustered, she sat back. “Really?”
“You don’t know? Because girl, you are seriously a cut above the rest.”
The flattery almost made her forget what they were talking about. But Denver hadn’t forgotten.
“Pamela tried to kiss me on the mouth, but I dodged her. When I told her to stop, she said no one would ever know.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, the back of his neck. “When I reminded her that she was married to my father, she guaranteed me that Dad wouldn’t find out, so how could he be hurt if we played just a little?”
“She missed the point that you’d know.”
He drew in a shaky breath. “She figured I’d be all over it, like she was somehow irresistible or something.”
“She misjudged you.”
“I shoved her away, not to hurt her or anything, but I was so damned shocked I just reacted. She landed on the floor, buck naked, sprawled. Swear, I tried not to look. But she started scrambling, grabbing for me while I was just trying to get away. She made a lot of...promises.” He glanced at her uncomfortably. “Things she’d do and stuff. Like she thought that would sway me.”
There wasn’t a single thing funny about what he described, but Cherry could almost see it as a comedy sketch. A young superhunk, a desperate woman offering herself. Nakedness. Rejection and confusion.
And to think she’d been embarrassed over how she’d looked when meeting Pamela for the first time. She wasn’t one to judge, but God knew, Pamela wasn’t in a position to be judging anyone, either.
Though she was curious about the kinky things Pamela offered, Cherry decided not to ask. Encouraging Denver, she said, “Go on.”
“She trapped me by the damned door and at that point, with me being pretty blunt, she went from hoping to convince me to begging me not to say anything.”
Oh no. Cherry’s heart broke for him. She remembered conversations they’d had, how he hadn’t wanted to talk about his family. “You told your father anyway?”
“Not at first. Dad was so damned happy with her, and other than sending me pleading looks Pamela acted like nothing had happened.”
“But you couldn’t?”
His jaw tightened. “I didn’t want to talk to her. Hell, I couldn’t even bear to look at her. Things got...tense. I tried to hide it, but I know Dad noticed.”
Cherry watched him check the mirrors again, impressed that even while dredging up an ugly part of his past he remained vigilant. Such a remarkable man, even more so than she’d ever realized.
“Waiting to tell him what happened was a mistake.” Disgusted, he said, “She told Dad that I hated her, that I’d been mean and disrespectful. She claimed I would do anything to get rid of her.”
Disbelief widened her eyes. “He believed her?”
“He said he’d been watching me, that he could see the animosity every time I looked at her. I knew...” He squeezed the wheel, drank in a deep breath. “I knew it’d be useless but I tried telling him the truth anyway.”
“Oh God, Denver, I’m so sorry.”
“He kicked me out. Told me he wouldn’t believe my lies. He said I should stay gone until I’d grown up enough to apologize to Pamela.”
Cherry gasped, getting angry on his behalf. “Of course you can’t do that!”
“No,” he agreed. “We haven’t spoken since and now Pamela wants me to just show up for a family party like the past isn’t there between us.”
Cherry wanted to make suggestions, but this was important—not just to Denver’s feelings or for his relationship with his dad, but maybe for his entire outlook on life.
Did he worry so much about her teasing with other guys because of how Pamela had betrayed both him and his father? She wasn’t a therapist, but it seemed pretty obvious to her.
Just as obvious was the fact that he needed to have as much faith in her as she had in him.
“You need to accept her invitation.”
His gaze cut her way, then returned to the road. “I don’t think—”
“You need to go, and you need to be nice.”
His jaw worked. Probably trying to placate her, he drew a breath, then asked mildly, “Why’s that?”
“You need to prove that you’ve moved beyond it.” Though they both knew he hadn’t, she felt that once he confronted his father and Pamela again—this time as a grown, confident man—he’d hopefully find some closure. “You need to show that Pamela doesn’t affect you, that you’ve never wanted her that way. Not then and not now.”
“I don’t care what Pamela thinks.”
“You wouldn’t be doing it for her. Not for your dad, either. And definitely not for me.”
His brows pinched down, but he listened.
“You need to prove it to you.”
“Shit.” He rubbed his mouth but he didn’t disagree. The seconds ticked by, and then a full minute before he said, “You’ll go with me?”
That was such an enormous sign of trust that her heart seemed to leap in her chest. She tried to tamp down the elation so he’d know she took it all very seriously. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”
He reached out for her hand, and when she put it in his, he gave her a squeeze. “It won’t be pleasant.”
“You might be surprised. But either way, I’d be happy to go with you.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you.”
“You
’ll call her tonight to let her know to expect us?”
“Tomorrow is soon enough.” He flashed a mean grin. “If I time it right, I can just talk with the housekeeper and she can give Pamela the message.”
Cherry laughed. “Good plan.” Sensing he could use a detour after the seriousness of their discussion, she said, “So then, you know what I’d like to do tonight?”
Without missing a beat, he said, “Head to bed where I can make you scream and groan and show you how sorry I am for insulting you earlier?”
It took a second for her to reply after he painted that particular, enticing picture. Trying for cavalier detachment, she quipped, “Really, Denver? That’s the best you’ve got?”
“I’m horny as hell. How creative did you want me to be?”
Damn, she loved him. Someday maybe she’d get to tell him. “Know what? Yes, I want to do that.”
He almost drove the car off the road. He slowed, straightened in his seat, and sent her a sizzling look of encouragement.
Not that she needed any. “Tonight in fact, even though I already forgave you. And then this Friday, I’d like us to just have a date.”
Tense now that they’d discussed sex, he repeated, “A date?”
“Yeah, you know that unique concept where we actually go out together? And for a change I could look my best instead of like a train wreck.” As an example she lifted the hem of Armie’s too-big-for-her shirt, still inside out. “I deliberately put on a very cute outfit for you this morning, not that you can tell now. It seems ever since we got together, I’ve had one physical catastrophe after another. I want to look pretty for you.”
“Damn, girl.” He tugged at the leg of his jeans. “You’re always pretty.”
Aw, so sweet. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Slowing the car, he turned and pulled into a driveway. “Sure. Girls like to doll up. I get that. But I’m serious. You need to know that never, not for a single second, not while you were sick and sure as shit not while you were soaking wet with clothes glued to your body, have I ever thought you didn’t look amazing.”
A bubble of happiness expanded inside her. “You are such a sweet talker.”
“Lust inspires me.”
“I agree to sex—which should be a given by now—and you go all poetic?”
“Actually, I’ve been halfway there ever since you handled Pamela so well at the gym. Strong, take-charge women are a big turn-on.”
Quirking her mouth, she said, “That also describes Pamela.”
“Not even close. She’s weak and manipulative and needy. But you’re...”
“What?”
His voice went soft and rough. “Strong, independent, loyal and sexy as hell because of it.”
God, with the way he looked at her, she got entranced by his golden eyes.
Until he turned the car off and gestured. “My house.”
“Oh.” Given the turn of their conversation, she’d barely paid attention to him parking the car. Getting herself together, she peered through the windshield at a beautiful brick ranch. “Your house.” Smiling, she tilted her head, taking it in, then opened her door and stepped out before he could do the gentlemanly thing and open it for her.
He joined her on the walkway to the front porch and took her hand. “What do you think?”
“It’s wonderful.”
That made him laugh. “It’s just a house, not fancy or all that expensive.”
“It’s perfect for you.” The house was simple in design but still looked welcoming, with just enough landscaping to feel homey, but not so much that it’d need a lot of upkeep. When she saw the rosebush, she stopped. “This is clearly a newly built house, so does that mean you planted the roses?”
He tugged at his ear. “Yeah, and the other bushes and stuff.”
The garage opened on the side, but he hadn’t driven into it, choosing to park in the driveway instead. Taking the cobbled walkway, they circled past the front of the double garage to the small porch.
Denver dug out a key, and as soon as they stepped inside he pushed numbers into a security keypad. “Come on, I’ll take you on a quick tour then fix us something to eat.”
Before he could whisk her off, she admired the higher ceilings and the rich hardwood floors. An enormous rug rested beneath two couches, with a big lounge chair that faced a massive flat-screen television. “I see you have your priorities in line.”
Laughing, he said, “Most of my priorities are in the basement.”
“Workout stuff?”
“For when I don’t spend as much time at the rec center as I should.”
Far as she could tell, that never happened. It seemed to her that Denver practically lived in the gym.
They walked toward a big kitchen, but Denver steered her down a short hall to the left and pushed open a door. “Guest bathroom.”
Cherry poked her head inside. “Nice,” she said, though that single word didn’t feel adequate. “I love the tile and the fixtures.”
“Thanks. It opens into both of the smaller bedrooms on either side, but they’re mostly empty.” They went back to the living room and he gestured at the kitchen. “The dining room and breakfast nook are attached. Then over here is my room.”
She stepped inside to tall windows, high ceilings, more hardwood floors and heavy masculine furniture. “Wow, your bed is huge.”
“It’s custom-made, an extra-wide king.”
Extra-wide so he’d have plenty of room for sexual acrobatics? The sting of jealousy made her scowl. “You must’ve felt cramped on my full-size mattress.”
Looping his arms around her, he nuzzled her neck and whispered, “Wrapped around you? Not a chance. I’d sleep on a twin as long as I was sleeping with you.”
Wow, he’d really turned on the charm tonight. She didn’t quite know what to make of that. “That’s a beautiful quilt.”
Still holding her, he propped his chin atop her head. “My mother made it. It was for her and Dad’s bed. When he remarried...”
“Pamela gave it to you?”
He released her and turned away. “She wanted to donate it along with everything else of Mom’s, so I just took it—and a few other things.” He moved to the dresser, opened the top drawer and got out a jewelry box. “I don’t really know what to do with it,” he said as he lifted the lid, showing some pricey pieces along with casual jewelry. “But it didn’t seem right to just ditch it.”
Cherry snuggled up next to him, admiring the tasteful designs. She touched one delicate silver chain that held an onyx teardrop pendant. “Beautiful.”
He smiled. “That was Mom’s favorite. She almost never took it off.”
“Maybe someday you’ll have a daughter and you could give it to her.” Saying it made her think about it, picturing an adorable little girl with Denver’s rich brown hair and intense golden eyes. One thought led to another and she also imagined a baby with her blond hair... Dangerous. Pushing away from the dresser, she pasted on a smile. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
He watched her closely, then carefully closed the jewelry box and put it back in the drawer. “Maybe.” He laced his fingers with hers and led the way to the master bath.
As he pushed the door open wide, Cherry smiled at his Jacuzzi tub. “Big enough for two.”
“Armie swears three could fit, but I’m the only one to ever use it.”
“Really?” She had a hard time believing he hadn’t broken in the tub already. “No bubbly bathtub sex?”
Smiling, he shook his head. “I only got the house a year ago and you’re the first woman I’ve brought here.”
“No way.” Her heart tried to make that significant while her head said to slow it down and think it through.
“Way.” He cupped her face, tipped it up, and kissed her. Against her parted lips, he whispered, “Maybe tonight we can try it out.”
When she continued to stare up him, her expression dazed, he traced her mouth with one fingertip, gave a low rumbling growl,
and gently turned her. “Come on, girl. Let’s go to the kitchen and we can figure out dinner.”
“Wait.” He’d rushed her through the house so quickly, she barely had time to appreciate it all. “Where does that door go?”
“Just a closet.” He opened it to show her a room as big as his bathroom but stacked with his clothes, a few random weights, sneakers and a laundry hamper.
Agog, she stared at all the available space. “This is an amazing closet.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I figured a woman would like it.”
Cherry stalled again. Had he bought the house with the thought of marriage in mind? Before they’d finally gotten together—before she’d finally convinced him—he’d seemed like the model bachelor, happy in his single life with no inclinations of settling down anytime soon.
Near her ear, Denver whispered, “Don’t overthink it.” With his arm around her, he urged her back out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where he pulled out a chair for her at the booth in the breakfast nook. “So what do you feel like eating?”
You.
“Girl,” he groaned. “Don’t look at me like that. I need to feed you, and much as I’d like to head straight to bed afterward, I really do need to soak my shoulder a bit.”
Cherry popped right back out of the seat. “Sorry, I’m...” In love. “It’s been a long day. How about you go take your bath and I’ll fix dinner?”
He eyed her up and down. “You cook?”
Insulted, she crossed her arms under her breasts and cocked out a hip. “Do I look like I’m starving?”
Brows up, he said, “No.”
So maybe he just found her so damned helpless he thought she couldn’t do anything right.
“You look like a fuckable angel. Like a wet dream.” He closed the space between them, brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “If you can cook, too, I’m sunk.”
Oh God, she hoped that was true because she’d gone under a long time ago. Shakily, she stated, “I’m adequate in the kitchen.”
His hand went down her cheek to her jaw, then her collarbone. “Damn.” With visible effort he stepped back from her. “Scrounge around, fix whatever you want, but nothing fancy. I’ll be in the tub.”
“Okay.”
