All of Me (All of Me #1)

by Tamsyn Bester

  My first thought is that Lacy is going to hate it. She has never been one for luxury, and this is certainly over the top. In many ways I think it’s their way of trying to make up for treating her so poorly after news of our “affair” became public. Not that I can criticize. I treated her worse than they did.

  I greet all the familiar faces, paying no attention to the prying eyes of the women, and make my way towards Lacy’s parents. She isn’t here yet, not that it comes as a surprise. She never could be on time.

  Her father, Jonathan, sees me and gives me an outstretched hand. He’s the only one who still greets me politely, without some kind of animosity. I always had the feeling he was the only one who had no issues with me dating his daughter.

  “Mr. Forbes, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” I shake his hand as he regards me. He looks older than the last time I saw him, his hair grayer and his eyes tired. It’s obvious the years haven’t been good to him.

  I can’t help but wonder if losing Lacy was as hard for him as it was for me. He adores his daughter, and I know the only reason he didn’t stop her from leaving two years ago is because of his wife.

  “Jason, I’m glad you could make it. I was worried you wouldn’t receive the invite.”

  Getting the invite was more than a surprise, but even so, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pass up an opportunity to see Lacy, invite or not.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it,” I reply, giving him a meaningful look. He knows how I feel about his daughter, and given what he knows, I hope he understands that I have every intention of making her mine again.

  A few minutes pass, and then he adds, “I have something I need to discuss with you. Come find me when you have a moment, and we’ll talk in my study.”

  I’m about to agree when his wife, Ruth, steps up to his side.

  “Mr. Tate,” she greets. Her voice reeks of disdain. “I don’t remember inviting you.” Ruth Forbes has always been a cold woman, heartless even. She expressed her disapproval of my relationship with Lacy from the beginning. Not that Lacy cared. She enjoyed doing anything and everything to piss her mother off. It makes me smile to remember.

  Her eyes are hard, cold, and calculating, and a lesser man would cower away. I’m not one of those men.

  “Ruth.” Jonathan admonishes his wife, much to her chagrin.

  “It’s fine,” I tell him, not at all deterred. “Your husband was kind enough to invite me, not that an invitation would have kept me from you daughter.”

  Ruth’s nostrils flare, giving way to the fire burning in her eyes. She may look prim and proper, thanks to her family’s pedigree, but beneath the surface is a raging bitch. And I’m being generous.

  “You’d better stay away -”

  “That’s enough.” Jonathan almost growls, and I see his face redden. I can’t help the look of surprise on my face because it’s the first time I’ve seen him stand up to his wife.

  “What’s going on here?”

  We all turn to find Lacy’s sister, Rebecca, staring at us.

  “Nothing, dear,” Jonathan says. “Your mother was just welcoming Mr. Tate. You remember him don’t you?”

  Rebecca looks between the three of us with skepticism, and then sticks out her hand. “Of course,” her eyes narrow, “How could I forget? It’s nice to see you again. Where’s your wife?”

  I clear my throat, and right my tie. “Ex-wife,” I reply, shooting a look at Jonathon. Rebecca’s eyebrows draw up, her mouth making an “oh”.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she says. It sounds genuine, like she really is sorry, but only because it means I can now get her sister back. Seems the only person in my corner right now is their father.

  “Well,” Jonathon sighs, “it’s about time the birthday girl showed up. I was beginning to think she wasn’t going to come.”

  I turn my head, and spot Lacy at the front door with her friend, Cassandra. Seeing her takes my breath away, and I have to stop myself from rubbing the ache in my chest.

  She looks… exquisite.

  Her red lace dress molds itself to her lean body, showing off the curves I know are there. The dress is a one-sleeved dress, covering one arm, and exposing the other. Her long brown hair is curled, and clipped to the side, coming over her naked shoulder.

  When her head comes around, and our eyes lock, my heart stutters. I see her breath falter, and suppress the need to pound on my chest like a caveman for the small victory. She’s still affected by me.

  She’s the first to break our gaze, but my eyes follow her as she walks through the small crowd to get to her father. He picks her up and spins her around, which surprises most of the guests. It’s a display of affection you won’t normally see from anyone in the Forbes family.

  I hear him mutter, “I’ve missed you” and can’t help but to share his sentiment.

  He places Lacy back on her feet, and she introduces her friend to her father. The moment between Lacy and her father is soon ruined when her mother stops in front of them. Considering she hasn’t seen Lacy in two years, you’d think she’d at least hug her or something. But instead she gives a stiff nod of her head, and smiles weakly.

  Lacy keeps her composure, and all I want to do is go up to her, grab her roughly and kiss her in front of all these people. Show them that while she may have little to no support from her family, she has me. I could easily claim that she’s mine, but that’s a lie. Because I’m hers.

  ***

  An hour later, Lacy has greeted all of the guests in attendance, excluding me. I can’t tell if she’s avoiding me, or if we just keep missing each other. Given that I’ve had my eye trained on her every move since she arrived, I’m guessing it’s the former. I finish the scotch in my tumbler, and make a decision on behalf of Lacy – no more avoiding. Then I push my way through the people until the sound of Lacy’s laughter fills my ears.

  Her smile fades when she sees me, and she nudges Cassandra in the side, alerting her to my arrival.

  “Jason,” she sighs, her eyes widening. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “Your father invited me,” I reply. I look at Cassandra, knowing that I’m going to have to win her over before I can get Lacy back. I wasn’t lying when I told her I liked her. She was there for Lacy when no one else was, and I feel it’s necessary to show her my gratitude.

  “Cassandra.” I nod my head once in greeting, and almost laugh when she grimaces me. “You look lovely.”

  She huffs, replying, “Thank you.”

  “You too Lace,” I add, softening my voice. “You look beautiful.”

  That’s an understatement. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe how she looks.

  I wait for her to reply, but she just continues to stare at me. Her eyes pierce my skin, and the way her lips purse sends my imagination into overdrive. Thoughts of her lips around my cock flood my brain, making all my blood rush south. I clear my throat, and then say, “Cassandra, care for a dance?”

  Cassandra’s eyebrows rise, and the look of surprise on her face matches Lacy’s. She looks to Lacy, who nods her permission, and then I’m leading her onto the makeshift dance floor in the center of the room. The band starts to play a slow song, and I start moving us to the beat.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” Cassandra says. Her accent intrigues me.

  I chuckle, and look around at the guests dancing beside us in an attempt to avoid looking at her directly.

  “And what exactly would that be?”

  With an eye roll, she replies, “You want back in my best friends’ panties, and you think that by kissing up to me you’ll somehow get it right.”

  I swallow hard. I don’t want to deny it, because it’s true, but I also don’t want Cassandra thinking that’s all I want from Lacy.

  “How much do you know about my relationship with Lacy?” I ask, genuinely interested in her answer.

  She worries her lip between her teeth, no doubt contemplating how much to tell me, the enem
y.

  “Everything.”

  My stomach drops, and I wonder what she must think of me, if Lacy told her everything. It shouldn’t matter what she thinks, and yet I find that it does, more than it should.

  “She still loves you, you know.”

  I look down, noticing how Cassandra’s eyes are quietly studying me. My expression must communicate something to her because she adds, “And you must still love her too.”

  I contemplate if I can trust her, and oddly enough feel that I can. “I do,” I reply honestly, deciding it’s best to be open with her and lay my cards on the table. “I always have, and I don’t see it changing any time soon. If it was possible to put into words just how much then I would tell you, but words are not enough.”

  We’ve stopped dancing, and now we’re simply looking at each other.

  “You destroyed her,” Cassandra says, her voice low. My face falls, and I feel the guilt tugging at my soul. How do I explain that I destroyed myself too? That I became a shell of a man after realizing I’d pushed Lacy so far away that she felt the need to run to a different continent just to get away from me?

  “And I’ve lived with it every day since. I haven’t been able to forgive myself. I somehow think if Lacy can forgive me, then I can let go of what I did.”

  With a resigned sigh, Cassandra steps away from me and says, “I think you need to walk way, and let her move on before you destroy what’s left of her.”

  I watch her turn around and walk away knowing that she’s probably right. But I refuse to walk away a second time. I want my second chance.

  Lacy’s father catches my attention and tilts his head towards his study, motioning for me to follow him. I nod once, and grab another scotch on the rocks before following him.

  It’s time for me to sort my life out, and do what I have to in order get Lacy back. And it just so happens that her father is about to help me do just that.

  CHAPTER 11

  LACY

  I wash my hands after using the bathroom, and reapply my lipstick. The woman in the mirror is someone I’ve finally come to recognize and accept. The only semblance of the young naïve girl I once was is my eyes. They still have that faint sparkle and I’m somewhat glad for that.

  I needed to escape for a minute, and catch my breath. Putting on a front at my own party has been far more challenging than I prepared myself for.

  I was prepared for my mother and sister’s cold reception, but when my father picked me up and spun me around, I was dragged back into the past, to a time when I still felt like I had a place here. That was before I realized it was all a farce, and that believing I could rely on my family when I needed them was a lie. If it weren’t for Cassandra, I probably never would have come, and now I’m wishing I hadn’t. I don’t belong in this world anymore, and I’m starting to consider the possibility that I never did.

  I walk down the hallway, passing my father’s study when I hear voices coming from inside. The door is cracked, the light switched on, and when I peep in I see Jason and my father sitting at his desk.

  I frown. How odd?

  Last I checked my father hated him, and wanted nothing more than to ruin him for how he’d ended things with me. Of course that notion had little to do with me being hurt, and more to do with how our family’s reputation was affected.

  “Are these the final drafts?” I hear Jason ask. I press my ear as close to the door as I can without opening it.

  “Yes,” my father replies. “I think you will be happy with these. They leave no room for Gemma to contest the divorce, and given her latest affair, you can give her even less than what was initially agreed upon.”

  I swallow, feeling my mouth become dry. He’s getting a divorce? I don’t know why, but something akin to hope blossoms in my chest. I try to ignore the small thrill that unfurls itself at the thought that he could possibly be mine again.

  No, I rebuke. That can’t happen. I have to leave him in my past, where he belongs.

  When I hear my father ask Jason if he intends to try again with me, I hold my breath, not sure if I can handle his answer.

  “I love her,” Jason states, like it’s the most natural thing to say. The rest of his sentence is cut off because I accidentally lean in too close and open the door.

  My father looks startled, and then Jason turns to face me. Our eyes crash, for no longer than a brief moment, and then I’m running down the darkened hallway, hearing him shout my name followed by his footsteps. He catches up to me, and before I can get away, his hand is on my elbow, and he’s whirling me into a vacant guest bedroom.

  “No,” I say, pulling at his grasp. “Jason, let me go.”

  He tugs me until my back is flush against his firm chest. It’s rising, moving up and down in perfect sync with mine. I hate it, that our bodies are still acutely attuned to each other. That I’m so aware of his presence it makes my hair stand up.

  “Why did you run?” he asks. His breath hits the back of my neck, and I shudder.

  “I was eavesdropping,” I reply softly. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not why you ran,” he growls. I feel the rumble of his chest at my back, and it makes me feel warm all over. God, I hate this. I hate that after all this time, he can still affect me this way, and make me feel like I’m about to crawl out of my own skin.

  “Tell me what you heard.”

  I sigh, unknowingly leaning into his body.

  “You’re getting a divorce,” I swallow, “and that you l-love me.”

  My heart stutters at the acknowledgement. With every ounce of strength I possess, I resist the temptation to turn around and look at him. The moonlight shines through the parted curtains, and I know he will look devastatingly beautiful.

  So I fight it. He’s devastated me once, and surely looking into his eyes, I will find his earlier declaration confirmed. That will devastate me too, over and over again because his eyes can never lie to me.

  “Lacy.” He breathes my name, covets it. It makes my resolve crack just slightly, but it’s enough for him to exploit. I silently beg that he won’t take that chance, but it’s futile.

  He turns me around, sliding his hands up my arms, up my neck until he cups my face. My eyes are pinched closed, a silent refusal to look at him.

  I feel him press our foreheads together, and then he’s brushing my cheeks with his thumbs. My arms hang limply at my sides. If I hold on to him, I’ll never want to let go, and I can’t have that.

  “Please,” he pleads on a breath. “Look at me. Let me see you.”

  I bring my hands up, and place them on top of his. His plea leaves me fighting my own heart because the moment I see the way he’s looking at me right now I know it will be over. My will to fight him will fade, and my will to forgive and try again will take over.

  I have no choice. It’s what my heart wants, and when it comes to Jason Tate, I’m helpless.

  I open my eyes, and when I look up, I see everything I’m afraid of. His love, his passion, his need. All for me.

  “There’s my girl,” he whispers. He makes this feel so right, and the sentiment manages to break my heart a little more, and then put it back together in the same breath.

  “Jason, I -”

  He swallows my words when he presses his lips to my mouth. It startles me, and when I open my mouth to gasp, he takes the opportunity to flick my tongue with his.

  His mouth is warm, his lips soft – a total contradiction to his hard exterior. I expect his kiss to get harder, more possessive. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, I’m given the kind of kiss that every woman dreams of. One filled with love, and hope, and desire.

  His hands slide down my throat, and wrap around my waist as he pulls me closer until there’s no space between us.

  We moan, our hot breaths mingling. I bring my hands up to his chest and slip my arms around his neck, sliding my hands through his beautiful mane of hair. I feel his erection against my stomach, and the ache between my legs grows, becoming unbearable in
its intensity.

  I pull away, my chest moving up and down rapidly. “I’ve missed you,” I admit. I didn’t mean to say it aloud, but something in this moment called for it, like it will be my only chance. I can’t have Jason. I won’t risk the hurt again.

  I’m not upset because I found out my father is handling Jason’s divorce. I’m upset because he said he still loves me. Can I handle that?

  The idea of leaving him in my past makes my chest close, and tighten with fear, and a profound sense of loss. Before I can register it, Jason is wiping the tears from my cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?” He asks - his voice quiet and full of concern.

  I look down momentarily, and then bring my hands up to his face.

  “We can’t do this again, Jason. Being this close to you after all this time is too much. You’re not mine.”

  I interrupt his response with a soft kiss to the lips. In it, is my goodbye. It tells him everything I can’t say out aloud.

  I turn around quickly, and leave the room as fast as my feet can carry me. I run down the hallway, the blood rushing to my ears blocking out any sound. When I reach the living room, I scan the crowd for Cassandra’s head of blonde curls. As soon as she sees me coming, my make-up running down my face, she’s at my side.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, worried.

  “Can we please l-leave?”

  We’ve only been at the party for two hours or so, and I know we still have to cut the cake, but I can’t stand to be here a minute longer.

  “Of course, sweety, I’ll call a cab.”

  She hooks my elbow, and we walk out while she pulls out her phone. I distinctly hear my name being called, but I keep my head facing forward to avoid seeing who it is. I had a feeling coming here would be a mistake. But I didn’t think it would be because of Jason.

  ***

  When we arrive back at my apartment, Cassandra forces me to have a hot shower, and get myself cleaned up before we curl up on the sofa with a fresh cup of tea.

  “You feeling okay?” Cassandra asks, turning to face me on the sofa.