“Thank God,” he murmured into her mouth.
The bell above the door rang again. Tatum knew it meant something. She needed to...but the thought wouldn’t form.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” came a sweet voice she recognized.
7
EVAN WANTED TO howl at the interruption. He considered ignoring whoever had walked into Petals. But even as he tried to deepen the kiss, Tatum was already pulling away.
She disengaged their mouths, turning her head to take in the intruder. With persistent hands, she tried to push at his arms holding her, but that’s where he drew the line. He wasn’t ready to let her go.
Instead, he shifted his hold, quickly spinning her around so her back was pressed to his chest, his arm slung diagonally across her body from shoulder to hip.
She tossed an unhappy glare over her shoulder. Evan just grinned at her.
He heard a muffled snort from across the room. “I suppose that answers my question. I was wondering how the chocolates went over.”
For the first time, he bothered to take in the woman behind the interruption, Tatum’s friend Lexi.
Her shop was about half a block away so he had to assume it was nothing unusual for her to stop by—or for Tatum to return the favor.
He didn’t have to see Tatum’s expression to know she was frowning in response to Lexi’s comment. Tatum’s body stiffened against him and she shifted. Instinct kicked in and Evan flexed his arm, subtly trying to hold on to her. He wouldn’t let her go. Not when it felt as if he’d finally gained a little ground. Not when, for some strange reason, it suddenly felt that if he stepped away from her, he’d be leaving a jagged piece of himself behind.
He couldn’t afford to lose anything else. Tatum couldn’t miss the ripple of his body against hers. Her sharp intake of breath shot straight through him. Along with the residual heat of their kiss, it was enough for the ridge of his sex, nestled against the small of her back, to harden.
There was no way she couldn’t feel his response to her. While he hadn’t planned it, she immediately stilled, abandoning her efforts to put distance between them.
He wasn’t too proud to take a victory, however it presented itself.
Pretending he and Tatum weren’t in the middle of a silent, physical conversation, Evan answered Lexi. “They were delicious. I was expecting to taste the herbs, but I really couldn’t.”
The blonde smiled, her grin lighting up the room. “What about you, Tatum?”
“Oh, I didn’t have any.”
Evan flexed his hold, letting his thumb slip beneath the hem of her shirt to tease the space right above her waistband. He could practically feel the electric hum shooting through her body.
Tatum slapped a hand down over his, pinning him and halting his teasing. Her grip was far from playful, taking his hand and squeezing until the bones practically rubbed against each other.
The comfortable smile he’d been sporting turned into a reluctant grimace. His girl always had been able to take care of herself. He admired that strength, always had, always would.
Using his discomfort as a distraction, she spun out of his hold. Snagging her other hand, Evan stopped her trajectory, leaned down and whispered so only she could hear, “That was sexy as hell,” before letting her go.
Raking Tatum with a heated look, Evan tossed out an excuse to Lexi, “I’m going to head into the back and...do something.”
* * *
TATUM WATCHED HIM LEAVE, fuming, embarrassed and turned on.
“Ooh, girl, that man is scorching.”
“More like scorched earth. He won’t take no for an answer.”
Lexi cocked a single eyebrow. “Sweetie, that did not look like no.”
“Well, then you read it wrong.”
“I don’t think so. You’re all flushed. And fidgety. You never fidget.”
Tatum realized Lexi was right. Her fingers were playing mindlessly with the small cards she kept in a stand by the register, stacking, counting, straightening. They’d already been perfect.
Snatching her fingers away, she flattened them against her chest and blew out a frustrated breath.
God, he was driving her batshit crazy.
Grasping her by the elbow, Lexi dragged her to the front door. She paused long enough to flip the sign from Open to Closed, engage the lock and then pulled her out onto the frozen sidewalk.
“Wait,” Tatum protested. But trying to stop Lexi when she was on a tear was like planting a pebble on a train track and expecting it to derail the engine.
Why did everyone in her life think they could just...move her where they wanted?
Frustration and irritation gave her the strength to dig her heels in and stop Lexi’s forward momentum.
“Stop. Just stop,” she shouted.
Startled, Lexi halted. At least she’d finally gotten her attention.
“What is going on? Where are we going? I have a business to run and can’t just...leave, Lexi.”
Her friend blew out a harsh breath, concern lurking deep in her eyes. “Yes, you can. The girls are waiting at Willow’s with lunch. You’re going to take an hour away from the parade of Sweetheart busybodies who’ve been hounding you all morning and we’re going to make sure you’re really, truly okay.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes. She wasn’t a crier, never had been, but knowing her friends—the women who’d come to mean so much to her in a frighteningly short amount of time—were looking out for her, even if she didn’t think she needed them to, crumbled her defenses.
“Okay,” she croaked, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Lexi bumped a hip against hers and then hustled her around to the back of Willow’s bridal dress shop. She didn’t just run the place with her business partner, Macey, she also designed several of the dresses, which were famous around the world. But today the rooms she used to house her creations and nurture her talent had been cleared of satins, silks, beads and lace.
Three beautiful faces looked up at her—Willow, Jenna and Macey. Spread out across a table was an array of sandwiches, salads and sweets from Sugar and Spice. A fine bone china set wouldn’t have been out of place, but the girls had obviously decided the situation called for something much stronger than tea.
Wineglasses waited, filled with pale pink, bubbling liquid. Heavenly. Tatum’s mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. All she’d had today was a single cup of coffee.
Evan was obviously screwing with her system in more ways than one.
The growling broke through the charged silence of her friends. Their laughter followed, washing over her like the warmest, calming tropical breeze. Dropping into a chair, Tatum simply let her body relax. It was the first time she’d been totally at ease since she’d seen Evan lounging against his bike.
Without saying a word, Willow picked up one of the glasses and handed it to her. Tatum took a huge sip, letting the wine flood her mouth and taste buds.
God, she needed this. Needed them.
As if they’d all been waiting for some cue, the chattering started. Lexi told a story about one of the guys working with Brett at the resort. Apparently, he’d tripped and fallen into a batch of quick-set concrete. Luckily, he’d gone in ass first so all they’d had to do was peel his hardening clothes off his back. But the guys had been so worried about getting him cleaned up that they’d left the concrete and it had hardened...with a perfect imprint of his butt.
There’d been talk of having it framed and hung in the employee break room when the resort was finished.
Macey picked up the momentum, sharing the latest bridezilla horror story.
Willow lamented her inability to come up with a Christmas gift for Dev. She’d accidentally—okay, purposely—gone snooping, found a gorgeous diamond necklace he’d bought for her and was now afraid the top-of-the-line wood chipper she’d already ordered just wouldn’t do. Even if the man had been coveting it for the last two months.
T
he conversation made Tatum nostalgic for the little presents Evan used to leave for her because he knew this time of year was difficult. She didn’t need diamonds, never had. Not when he’d shown her he cared with things like a can of silly string or a beautiful silk scarf he’d caught her eyeing. The women ate. They laughed. Tatum downed two glasses of wine, enough for her insides to feel warm and just this side of mushy.
They were picking through dipped strawberries, pieces of caramel apple, brownies, tangy lemon bars and cookies covered in a thick, gooey fudge when every eye turned to look at her.
Suddenly, the cookie she’d just taken a bite of felt like sawdust in her mouth, even if it didn’t taste like it.
Tatum set it back onto her plate, taking another sip of wine to force the mess down.
Well, the reprieve couldn’t have lasted forever.
“So,” Willow said, drawing the single word out to several syllables in only the way her soft southern drawl could. “You want to tell us what’s going on?”
“What’s there to tell?” she asked, shrugging. “I thought Evan had been killed on a Special Ops mission three years ago.”
No, that wasn’t quite right. It went deeper than thinking.
“They came to me. At my office.” Which was one of the reasons she’d never been able to go back to work. “To tell me he was dead. I asked them how. Begged for details. Needed to know. Did he suffer? Was it quick? All they could say was he’d been on a deep cover assignment with several other members of his team, all of them gone.”
Beside her, Willow sucked in a harsh breath. Lexi made a strangled sound and Macey covered her mouth with both hands.
Tatum just kept going. “I buried him, or what I let everyone think was him. They’d told me, because of the nature of the op, his body hadn’t been recovered. That should have been my first clue.”
Macey dropped her hands, the bridge of her nose beetling in righteous indignation. “How could you have known they were lying to you?”
Tatum shook her head. “According to Evan, they weren’t. At least, not then. They really thought all the men had been killed. It was almost two months before he could get word to them that he was alive.”
“Why the hell didn’t they tell you then?”
“Because Evan told them not to.”
Jenna let out a low, rumbling growl, and a brief smile flitted across Tatum’s lips.
“By then his cover was so deep...he was afraid each day would make the lie real. He didn’t want to give me hope only to have to lose him all over again.”
“That’s...” Lexi’s voice trailed off to nothing.
Tatum looked around the table, taking in each face, all with varying degrees of the emotions she’d been fighting. Shock, disbelief, anger, grief...hope.
“Kinda sweet,” Willow finally finished.
“Wrong, but totally sweet,” Macey agreed.
“So, what are you going to do now?”
Tatum admitted the truth—to them and to herself. “I have no idea. I’ve been in love with Evan Huntley since I was seventeen. Losing him was the worst experience of my life.”
“So getting him back should be the best.”
“You’d think,” she whispered so softly the other women had to lean closer to hear. “But I don’t know that I could survive losing him again. I’ve built a life without him. One that I like. I’m content. Letting him back in would be setting myself up for heartache. What he does is dangerous. A miracle saved him this time. It won’t be there next time.”
“Content,” Lexi said slowly. She exchanged a knowing glance with Willow. “You know that isn’t enough, Tatum. Especially when the chance for more is standing right in front of you, steaming up your store so much the windows fogged.”
“They did not.”
“I sure felt the heat.”
Tatum scoffed, the sound vibrating through her throat. “Sex has never been a problem for Evan and me.”
“So...does that imply there were problems before all this?”
Her eyes widened. Slowly, Tatum shook her head. “No. Never. I mean, sure we fought, but always over stupid shit. You know, the stuff that just gets under your skin and rubs you raw until you have to let the irritation out. Evan was the person standing next to me when I dealt with my mom’s illness and the horror of my dad’s suicide. He’s always been right beside me, telling me I could do anything I wanted to. Supporting me. Loving me.”
She looked up from the center of the table, where her gaze had been trained, to find four sets of wide eyes staring at her.
“And you want to give that up without at least seeing?”
“No, but I think I have to. For my sanity. He’s...holding things back. I mean, there were always aspects of his work he couldn’t share with me, but this is more. Goes deeper. The first night he stayed over, he had a nightmare. No, it was more than that. I found him crouched in the corner of the room like some hunted animal. He pinned me to the floor.”
Lexi’s hand dropped down over hers, tightening. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. He was...devastated when he came to. Pissed at himself. Worried about me. He drove away and I didn’t see him again for hours.”
“He needs help, honey. That’s all.”
Obviously, he needed help. Not that she was surprised. Anyone living through what he had the last three years would. And deep down, Tatum knew she hadn’t even heard the half of what he’d experienced.
“He’s keeping things from me. I feel like I don’t know him anymore. Or, at least, there are pieces of him I don’t know.”
“Give it time, Tatum. He just got back from three hellish years. It’s going to take more than a few days to deal with that. To open up.” Willow said, her voice soft and soothing.
Lexi nodded. “But in the meantime, it isn’t going to help if you’re holding back, too.”
Tatum shook her head, those damn unwanted tears stinging her eyes again. “I don’t know if I can do it. If I can open myself up again.”
Willow ran a soft, soothing hand down her arm. “You don’t have to make that decision right now. You have to give him time, but you also have to give yourself time. Time to feel safe and comfortable with him again.”
That was part of the problem. She did feel safe. And comfortable. More than she really wanted.
“Today, all you have to do is head back to Petals, open up for the afternoon and take things one minute, one hour at a time.”
She knew Willow’s words were meant as a comfort, but something about them weighed heavily on her chest. It was difficult to pull in a full breath.
Until Lexi sent her a knowing grin full of mischief, “And if I were you, I know what I’d be doing with the first hour, making those windows steam again. Your husband is smokin’ hot.”
Willow leaned forward, shoving Lexi sideways. “Not helpful, Lex.”
“That’s what you think. You didn’t see the two of them together. Or the way our solid, practical and aloof Tatum melted into a puddle at his feet.”
“I did not.”
Lexi patted her arm, giving her a sympathetic look. “Oh, you did, honey. You totally did. But don’t feel bad. Brett has the same effect on me. When he’s around, I swear I can’t think of anything else.”
“That’s just hormones.”
Lexi shrugged, this time sending her a look of pure skepticism. “If you say so.”
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, as she fumbled with the front lock at Petals, the only thought running through her buzzing brain was Lexi’s suggestion to steam up the windows.
She couldn’t get the damn key into the lock. It kept moving. The lock, not the key. Bending closer, Tatum squinted, filling her slightly blurry field of vision with the troublesome lock, and braced a hand on the frame, hoping that would solve the problem.
A metallic scraping sound made her glance down at the key clutched in her fist. It wasn’t even in the lock yet, so how had she opened it?
Before she
could puzzle that out, the door swung open. She stumbled, flailing for something to grab onto.
If Evan hadn’t caught her, she would have ended up on her ass in the middle of the cold sidewalk.
He tugged her inside. In some small part of her brain, Tatum heard the click of the lock being engaged again. Hmm, not good, although she couldn’t remember why.
“You walked out, without a word, to get drunk?” he asked, wrapping a hand around her arm and propelling her through the storefront and into the back workroom.
“No. I’m not drunk,” she protested.
His snort of disbelief seriously rubbed her the wrong way.
“I’m pleasantly buzzed. Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be stone-cold sober.”
“Wonderful,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.
Evan maneuvered her into a chair. Tatum let her body slump into the welcoming comfort. Her limbs were deliciously loose.
Slowly, her gaze traveled from the tip of Evan’s scuffed motorcycle boots, over worn jeans hugging tight thighs, up the plane of his flat stomach and wide chest to a set of shoulders that could carry the weight of just about anything.
God, he was perfect. He’d always had a hell of a body, but whatever else Colombia had done, it had taken his strength and honed it into a work of art.
She was simply drinking in the view, her body reacting to him and burning with a fire that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d drunk with lunch. Right up until her gaze collided with his glaring, sparking, pissed off eyes.
“I had no idea where you were, Tatum.”
“I’m a big girl, Evan. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”
“Yes, you have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”
She let out a harsh laugh. “Welcome to my world, then. How do you think I felt every time you went off on another top secret assignment?”
Some of the heat leeched out of his expression, softening him in a way that was far too tempting for her own good.
“You never said anything.”
“No, I wouldn’t, would I?”
Bring Me to Life Page 9
