The Truth

by Heather Slade

  He put his hands on her waist and turned her to look at him. “I know it’s difficult for you to trust me,” he began, but paused. “This may sound…hard to believe, but I’m not going to desert you, Quinn. I may have to travel—it’s part of my job—but when I do, I’ll try to let you know as far in advance as I can.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Because I don’t want you to waste time or energy worrying about this. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. As I said, if I do, I’ll tell you.”

  “You must think…”

  Mercer put his fingertips on her lips. It was the first time he hadn’t waited for her to finish her sentence, and it jarred her.

  “Don’t decide what I think. Focus on what you think, what you feel.”

  She nodded and raised her hands so they rested on his rock-hard chest, and then moved to his shoulders, and then to his face. “I like it when you kiss me this way, Mercer.”

  She held his face, and then reached up to kiss him. When his hand cupped the side of her face too and he deepened their kiss, Quinn felt her knees giving way. Her body was plastered against his, but she wanted to be closer still.

  She let him back her away from the window and up against the wall that divided the room from the kitchen. When she instinctively tilted her pelvis, she felt his hardness push against her, and she moaned.

  Mercer slid his hand under her shirt and inside the cup of her bra, circling the hard bud of her nipple with his fingertips.

  At the same time, his lips trailed from hers down her neck. With both hands, he pulled her shirt up and over her head, tossing it to the side. Looking into her eyes, he unfastened her pink, lacy bra, slid it off her shoulders, and threw it where the shirt had landed.

  He covered her left nipple with his mouth while his fingers toyed with the right. Quinn weaved her fingers in his hair, pulling it as he lapped her sensitive flesh. She was lost in him, and every part of her body pulsated with need. He switched to her other nipple, dragging his tongue across her skin.

  She tensed, suddenly aware that she had no idea what came next. Mercer stood and looked into her eyes.

  “Why did you stop?” she whimpered, covering her breasts with her palms.

  Mercer held her wrists in his hands and moved them away. “Let me look at you.”

  Her cheeks flamed. She closed her eyes and slouched as far as his body would allow her.

  “Open your eyes, Quinn.”

  With them half-opened, she looked up at him. “I’m embarrassed. I’ve never…you’d think…but…”

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, running his gaze from her eyes, down to her exposed breasts, lingering before he returned to her lips. “Last night, I told you I could kiss you for hours. I could spend hours just looking at you too, precious.”

  “You don’t understand…”

  Again he waited, and when she couldn’t continue, he took a deep breath.

  “Here’s what I understand. I love that no one else has seen you this way. I love that no other lips have been where mine just were. I told you that we’re going to take this slow, which means I’m going to pay attention to everything you tell me, whether it’s with your eyes…” He stopped to kiss each eyelid. “Or your mouth.” He softly kissed her lips. “Or any other part of your body.” He trailed his tongue down to lave each nipple, and then knelt in front of her, resting his cheek against her tummy. He put his hands on her bottom and held her close to him. “Feel no shame or embarrassment with me, Quinn.”

  “Who are you?” she whispered. “How do you know me so well? God, is this even real?”

  “Does this feel real?” He circled her belly button with his tongue.

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  When he stood again, bringing his lips back the way they came, she somehow sensed he was going to stop. He held her face in his hands and kissed her hard. It wasn’t quick, he lingered, lavishing her with his tongue, exploring her mouth in the same way he’d explore her body.

  “I’m craving chicken and waffles,” he whispered into her ear.

  She opened her eyes wide. “What did you say?”

  “Breakfast, precious.” He stepped back and picked up her bra, sliding the straps up her arms, and then reaching behind her to fasten it once the cups covered her breasts. “Stay still,” he said when she reached for her shirt. “Let me do it.”

  He lowered it over her head. When she put each arm through a sleeve, he pulled the cotton fabric over her tummy.

  “Mercer?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Never. Just let yourself feel, Quinn. You’ll know what feels right.”

  She let Mercer lead her out of the apartment, to the elevator, down to the lobby, and out into the oppressive heat of the city.

  His touch never left her, whether it was his fingers on the small of her back, or his hand holding hers. Each time they stopped at an intersection, Mercer put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him, kissing her forehead or her lips.

  He never left the curb first, instead waiting for the throng of people to move past them, and then he’d look before leading her across the street.

  As they walked, every once in a while, she’d catch their reflection in the windows they passed. The shirt he wore today was another v-neck, but white instead of black. His shorts were light blue and white striped, and he wore slip-on shoes without socks. His legs were ridiculously powerful, like the rest of his body.

  He was safe and yet, so dangerous. He looked out for her, soothed her, loved on her, and it all felt too good to be true.

  How could they possibly have this strong of a connection? It didn’t make sense, but then he’d told her not to go looking for something negative; let herself feel, and she’d know what felt right. He felt so right.

  There was a wait when they got to Sarge’s Diner, but only a short one. They stood near the entrance, out of the way of the crowded sidewalk, and didn’t speak. He rested his back against the cool brick of the building and pulled her close, his arm circling her shoulders again. She put her hands just above the waist of his shorts and sneaked her fingers under the fabric of his shirt. She heard and felt his gasp, loving that the effect she had on him was so evident.

  Quinn leaned forward and kissed his skin, right above the v of his shirt. She could see the edges of a tattoo on his chest, but not enough to know what it was. His arms and legs were free of ink, which fueled her curiosity about what he kept hidden.

  “Careful, precious,” he warned like he had last night when she rested her hand on his thigh.

  The buzzer in his pocket went off, alerting them that their table was ready. She couldn’t decide if she was happy, because she was so hungry, or disappointed that she could no longer lean against him, feeling his body touching so much of hers.

  They were seated near the back of the restaurant. Mercer took her hand and guided her to the side of the booth that faced the entrance, and then sat next to her.

  She smiled. “Cozy.”

  “I like the feel of you next to me.”

  Quinn studied the menu even though she already knew what she wanted. She looked up at the same time the front door opened. “Shit,” she said under her breath.

  Mercer looked up too, but didn’t say anything.

  Penelope was in the front of the group, just inside the front door. Tara, Aine, and Ava were behind her. None of them had noticed her yet, but it wouldn’t be long before they did, she was in their direct line of sight. Now she wished she’d sat with her back to the door.

  It wasn’t that she was ashamed of being with Mercer—look at him, he was practically a deity. She just wasn’t ready to share him yet.

  Mercer’s gaze went to the front door and back to her again, but he still didn’t speak.

  “My friends…” Quinn didn’t know what to say. This thing he did, where he didn’t finish her sentences was nice at
times, but at others, like now, she wished he would.

  She’d never realized how often the four women she spent most of her time with, did. How often had Quinn been at a loss for words about something until one of them finished her sentence for her?

  Tara noticed her first, waving around Penelope who was deep in conversation with the hostess. Quinn saw her turn to speak to the twins, and then ease her way past the crowd at the entrance to walk back to their table, Aine and Ava in tow.

  “Hello, there,” Tara said, looking between Quinn and Mercer.

  “Hey,” Quinn answered.

  “This is why we couldn’t reach you this morning.” Ava grinned. “I told you she was up to something,” she said to her sister.

  Tara reached across the table and introduced herself and the other three, since Penelope had just joined them.

  “I’m Mercer,” he said, shaking each of their hands as one stepped aside for another to get a good look at him.

  Quinn knew their eyes were on her, but she couldn’t bear to look at any of them.

  Aine pushed past the other three and sat across from them. “So. Holding out on us, huh?”

  Quinn looked up, afraid of what she’d see on Aine’s face, and was immediately relieved when she saw her friend’s smile.

  “I’d hold out on you too,” she added, winking at Mercer.

  “How’d you two meet?” Ava asked.

  Now the interrogation would begin, thought Quinn. The endless questions about who he was, what he did.

  “He lives in her building. On her floor, if I’m not mistaken,” Aine answered for her.

  Quinn nodded, looking into her friend’s smiling eyes. She didn’t see judgment, just love.

  “Well, then,” said Aine, standing. “We’ll leave you two to breakfast and catch up later. Okay?”

  Quinn nodded, as stunned as her other three friends by Aine’s atypical bossiness as she shuffled them away from the table.

  “Those were…well, I guess you know who they were since they introduced themselves to you. They’re my four best friends, who are probably going outside to talk about us.”

  “Because they don’t know anything about me.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she answered it like it was. “I wasn’t ready to share you yet. I hope you’re not…you know, that I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

  “By not sharing me? Never, precious.”

  She looked into Mercer’s eyes, marveling at the way he just accepted her as she was, taking things the best possible way instead of the worst.

  While she’d never been in a real relationship before, all four of her friends had been, and none of the guys they’d been with were anything like Mercer.

  “I’m not ashamed of you,” she said, and then wished she hadn’t. “That didn’t come out right. I’m sorry.”

  “Never thought you were.” Mercer motioned with his head to the approaching waitress. “What are you in the mood for this morning.”

  “Chicken and waffles. Oh, and tea.”

  “May I?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “Two orders of chicken and waffles, extra crispy, one tea, one coffee, and some water, please.”

  “Crispy waffles? Crispy chicken?” the waitress asked.

  “Both, please,” he answered.

  It probably wasn’t that unusual for someone to like their chicken or their waffles crispy, right? Or did he, once again, hone into the way she preferred things?

  “Extra butter and the syrup warm,” he added.

  The waitress smiled at him, but then who wouldn’t, with his warm eyes and almost baby-face beneath the scruffy beard that made him look as tough as his body was, rather than unkempt.

  “Who are you?” Quinn mumbled again.

  When the waitress walked away, Mercer leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Trust this, precious. Trust me.”

  She felt her eyes glazing over and her breath catching at the pure heat of his words. “I do,” she heard herself say, although she hadn’t meant to.

  “Would you like to spend time with your friends this afternoon?

  “Um, no. I mean, if you have other things to do. Of course you have other things to do. So, yes, sure. I can just stay when we’re done with breakfast if you need to go,” she rambled.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “I said, no, thank you. I don’t want you to stay while I leave.”

  “Why not?” Again, it sounded so much worse out loud than she meant it to.

  “Because it’ll be easier for them to get to know me if we spend time with them.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Quinn’s head was spinning. Who was this guy, and how could he be this perfect?

  “Trust,” he murmured, almost too quietly for her to hear.

  6

  Seeing Quinn around her friends wasn’t new to him, but watching her react to their reaction to him was fascinating. Mercer saw her nervousness, and then watched as it began to fade away. Her friends were polite, not asking him direct questions, but conversing about the city and their lives, to see what he’d add.

  They went to the Union Square farmers’ market, and then stopped at an Italian deli to pick up food for later. Every so often, he’d step away, giving them time to talk without him hearing. After a few minutes, she’d come looking for him, and he’d smile.

  As much as he wished it were different, Quinn’s insecurity was expected, given the way she grew up. There was nothing Mercer could do to go back and change the circumstances of her life to this point, but he certainly could help her build the confidence a woman as bright and beautiful as she was, should have.

  He excused himself when they walked by his favorite wine shop, happy when they offered to wait outside. As he perused the shelves of rare wines, from the corner of his eye, he could see where the five women stood. Their conversation was animated, and every once in a while, one would shield her eyes from the glare and peer in the window, although he knew they couldn’t see him.

  No doubt her friends were grilling Quinn, but after spending so much time with them today, he was confident she could handle their interrogation. He certainly knew plenty about the four of them—everything really, but the most important detail was that they were all ferociously protective of one another.

  They’d met at boarding school, and then went on to Barnard together. Some of their childhoods had been more difficult than Quinn’s, but that was because, without her knowing it, she’d been protected from the people who might destroy her.

  She’d grown up believing she was alone in this world, with the exception of her grandparents and mother, who were missing from her life far more than they’d been in it. Her perceived reclusion wasn’t what she believed it to be, but she couldn’t be made aware of that yet, if ever.

  “We’re having a small gathering at my dad’s place on Fire Island this weekend,” Penelope said when he came back outside. “We’d love for you and Quinn to join us. There’s plenty of room and a guest house in the back of the main house.”

  He didn’t need to look at her to know Quinn was hopeful. “Sounds wonderful,” he responded.

  “Oh, good,” Penelope breathed, evidently expecting him to decline.

  “You can drive out tonight or in the morning, whichever you prefer,” she told him.

  “Tomorrow would be better, I think,” Quinn answered when he looked to her.

  Mercer picked up the shopping bags he’d left on the sidewalk, and waited.

  “Ready?” she asked, and he nodded, unsure what they were doing next, but it didn’t matter, he was happy to do whatever she wanted to do.

  Soon the girls said their goodbyes, and he set the bags back down as, one by one, they hugged him and told him how great it was to meet “Quinn’s new boyfriend.” She blushed at their words, and he winked, which made her drop her eyes and smile.

  “Wait, where’s your wine?” Ava asked. “You didn’t find anything?”

  He told her it was being deli
vered, and glanced at the shopping bags as explanation.

  “Well, have a fantabulous dinner or whatever,” Aine said, kissing his cheek. “You’re good for her,” she whispered.

  “How are you?” Quinn asked once they were more than a block away from her friends.

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  She shook her hands as though she were trying to get something off of them. “A nervous wreck.”

  He smiled. “They like me.”

  “No, they don’t. They love you.”

  He smiled again and pulled her close to him with his free arm.

  “So…when we get back…”

  “What would you like to do, precious?”

  “Me? I mean, I don’t care, but I’m sure you have things…uh, you know…to do.”

  He stopped a half block from their building. “If there is something I need to do, I’ll tell you.” He hoped it didn’t sound as though he was scolding her, but it was time he was more direct.

  “Okay. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I’ve just never—”

  Mercer stopped her words with his lips. “Don’t you have any idea how much I want to be with you?” he asked after he’d thoroughly kissed her. “Trust, Quinn.”

  “But…”

  He waited. He’d already interrupted her once, this time he’d wait to see what she would say.

  “I don’t have a lot going on in my life right now, and I’m feeling a little…boring. I mean, you’ve been to India, right? Who knows where else? I haven’t traveled anywhere. I went to school, I have friends, but that’s it. What you see is what you get.”

  Mercer looked her up and down and smiled. “I love what I see, precious. You’re fascinating. You’re smart, and funny, and beautiful, and you make me happy.” She also made him talk more in one day than he had in the last week.

  “Really?” she asked, smiling too.

  He pulled her close again and kissed her forehead. “Yes, really. Now let’s get back to your apartment and decide what we want to do tonight.”

  —:—