I almost pulled us both to a stop so that I could really process his words. I had never considered the little things in my life that I did just for me, for the little piece of joy they brought me, as “flare.” I considered them guilty pleasures, ones I still had a hard time believing I was getting away with, ones I was waiting for a dead man to tell me were frivolous and wasteful. I never noticed Zeb noticing them.
He tugged on my hand to get me to pick the pace back up and looked at me over his shoulder. “And don’t think for a second that I haven’t noticed that you can’t keep your hands off my ink. Not that I would ever complain about it, but most chicks like it at first and then get bored with it because it just becomes part of the scenery. Not you. It doesn’t matter how many times you see it or have your mouth on it, you always want to explore it, absorb it. You more than like color, Sayer. You savor it and worship it.”
God, did his truth undo me . . . every single time.
I blew out a deep breath and looked at him out of the corner of my eye because I could feel him watching for my reaction.
“Growing up, everything had to be just so. My father was particular about every minute detail of my life. To start off with, he always wanted a son and was disappointed I was a girl from the second I was born. That was the first in a laundry list of disappointments I burdened him with throughout my life. What I wore, how I did my hair, what kind of makeup I used, who my friends were, what my room looked like, everything was subject to his approval and nothing ever lived up to his standards. He hated everything about me and everything I did, so by the time I was ten or eleven I figured out it was easier to just keep everything bland and neutral. He had a harder time picking apart beige and cream. Ivory and black and white became staples and made it so that I could fly under his radar for the most part.” I shook my head a little as we finally reached the brightly lit store. “I carried a lot of that over into my adult life as habits, but I guess as I got older the bits and pieces of things I liked for myself worked their way into my everyday without me really noticing it.”
I gave him a lopsided grin. “And I actually really like that poppy-colored wall. I’m keeping it even after Poppy moves out.”
He let go of my hand and put a palm on my lower back as he ushered me into the store in front of him. Quietly, so that only I could hear, he asked, “What happened with your mom, Sayer? If your dad was that nasty and controlling, why didn’t she step in and stop him? Why did she stay with him? Why didn’t she protect you from him?”
Those were questions that had tormented me and helped me keep my heart encased safely in ice to this day. I couldn’t help my fingers from curling into my palms and digging in so hard that it hurt when I answered him.
“She loved him. She really, truly loved him, and it killed her. It never mattered how mean and terrible he was to her. She tried every single day to please him, to be the perfect wife and to make me the perfect daughter. All she wanted was his approval, some form of affection and kindness, and he knew it, so he delighted in purposely stringing her along and tormenting her.” Memories churned and slipped out of the iron hold I had them in. They twisted around all the emotions Zeb had unleashed inside of me, and they made my guts hurt and the place where my heart was supposed to be throb painfully.
“He had affairs and told her she wasn’t as pretty as his mistresses. She would starve herself, she would work out endlessly. She changed her hair, got plastic surgery, and he mocked her, told her she could never be perfect. He wanted a son since she screwed up with me, but she was sick, not just in the head, and couldn’t maintain a pregnancy to full term. He considered her worthless, but she still tried time and time again for him. Her life was nothing more than trying to reach an unreachable finish line where he would finally love her as much as she loved him. She died because she knew she was never going to make him happy and she couldn’t live with the fact. She left me with him, knowing how he was and what he was capable of. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for that.” I was heartless. I was cruel. I was a terrible person for feeling that way, but it was true. If I forgave her, it meant the floodgates would open and there would be no holding back all the painful, ugly, agonizing things that lurked inside the dark. If I let them free with forgiveness there would be no more ignoring them, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to survive that.
Zeb didn’t respond as he guided us toward a section of brightly colored kids’ bedding. Already I could see a set with both Superman and Batman logos as well as a set with a train on it. Zeb zeroed in on a set that had a bunch of vintage cars and trucks printed on the fabric and went to town picking out a matching rug and curtains for the room. It was fun to see his excitement and my heart turned over knowing that Hyde had a father who loved him and would never put him through the kinds of horrors I had lived through. My truth was a lot more unpleasant and a lot harder to digest then Zeb’s.
I complied when he asked me to pick out another set of bedding for the room. I went with a wildly colored geometric pattern that had shapes going in all directions. It wasn’t cars and trucks, but it wouldn’t clash too badly with all the other stuff he had decided on and it was busy and fun. It served the purpose of making the space more kid-friendly so that both Hyde and any court inspector who might swing by would know that Zeb was rearranging his life for his little boy.
The price tag on the haul was completely reasonable and the cashier who checked us out had a nose ring and dreadlocks and barely blinked an eye at Zeb in all his tatted-up and bearded glory. I silently chastised myself for taking him to the pricey department store in the first place. The mistake made me feel stupid and disjointed. So did the lingering silence between the two of us as we trekked back to his Jeep.
He threw the bags in the back and then walked over to open my door for me. The Jeep was splattered in mud and various other dirty things from being parked outside his jobsite, so he wouldn’t let me get in without a boost up. He laughingly told me he couldn’t afford to replace my pantsuit if I got it dirty, and now I was wondering if that was something he was really worried about.
He put a hand on the door handle and one on the indent at my waist. He bent his head a little so that we were almost eye-to-eye and told me softly, “Your dad was an asshole and I wish he was still around so I could kick his ass, but your mom . . .” He shook his head slowly from side to side. “Sometimes who we love can’t be controlled. I watched my sister struggle with it for years. She hated what her old man did to her, but she loved him, too. If you let all those things you did to survive your dad and all that resentment you have toward your mom fill you up, you’ll never have room inside for all the things you actually want to feel. All that valuable real estate is taken up by things from the past and there’s no room for the future to build on.”
I pulled my eyes away from his as he wrenched open the door and put both hands on my waist to help me inside the vehicle. When he climbed up next to me on the driver’s side, I let out a little sigh and muttered, “I’m not sure the ground is stable enough to build on whether or not the past gets cleared out.”
He craned his neck to back out of the spot and reached over to put a hand on my thigh. “It just takes someone with the know-how to do it. Lucky for both of us, I’m a certified expert at building on shaky ground.”
That made me laugh a little bit and I laced my fingers through his as he pulled out of the parking garage. I looked around when he turned in the opposite direction he would need to take to drop me back off at my house.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m starving and I want a drink. The Bar is only a few blocks down on Broadway, so I thought we could stop and have a quick bite to eat.” His green eyes flashed at me and a wry grin pulled at his mouth. “Don’t worry, I won’t consider it going on a date since you seem allergic to the idea.”
I balked a little. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go on a date with him; it was that the idea of dating him made all of this seem so much more real. Rig
ht now I had myself convinced it was just sex and business. Eventually, the business would be over, when he had custody of Hyde, and the sex would be harder to come by, and I doubted he would keep putting forth the effort to see me. Emotions didn’t have to be involved if we were work associates and fuck buddies . . . at least if I had done this right from the beginning they wouldn’t have been, but I screwed up. Big-time.
“It’s just a burger and a drink, Say. I didn’t ask you to marry me.”
I blinked when his words hit me, and realized I had turned into a statue in my seat. I swallowed hard and shifted a little bit.
“Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out.”
“But you did. Eventually, you’re going to have to spend time with me outside of the bedroom and the courtroom, Sayer. I have a five-year-old coming to live with me really soon and that means I’m a package deal. Spending time together is going to take on a new meaning with Hyde underfoot.”
He squeezed my thigh and I tried not to panic at his revelation. He was going to put in the effort. What the hell?
I cleared my throat. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, I guess.”
“Why does that feel like you using some kind of lawyer tactic to avoid the subject?” He sounded annoyed, but we were already in front of the little dive bar, so I didn’t bother to explain that I was indeed trying desperately to change the subject. We worked really well naked and tangled together. I wasn’t so sure how any of that translated to real life, and just like that my grip on the ledge tightened and I pulled myself a few inches up from the danger zone of love and longing.
“Let’s go inside and eat. I’m hungry, too, and I love Darcy’s BLT. We can talk about what happens next later.”
He grunted at me but came around to help me out of the Jeep nonetheless. When I was standing in front of him with his hands at my waist, I wasn’t surprised at all to see him bend his head down and kiss me—hard. He always did this when I put off a conversation that he wanted to have about the current state of our relationship. It was like a physical reminder that he was letting things slide, but only for now.
“Eventually there won’t be any more laters, Say. There will only be right now and you’re going to have to decide what you want to do with it.”
The Bar was packed and we were enveloped in noise and revelry as soon as we pushed the doors open. A large man with beautiful skin that hovered somewhere slightly beyond the golden hue of a deep tan gave Zeb a fist bump and nodded at me. He was as beautiful and fierce looking as Zeb, so I returned the nod and decided not to trip over words by saying hello. His eyes were the most unusual shade of light blue that bled into an iridescent yellowish gold on the outer rim. I’d never seen anything like them and it was hard for me not to stare every time I was around him. I’d met Dash Churchill a few times when I had stopped by the Bar for a drink with the girls, and while he was always polite he was never what I would consider friendly, even when he instructed me to call him Church in that slow and thick Mississippi drawl of his. The same could not be said for the little-redheaded flurry of sass and fun that was Dixie Carmichael. The long-standing cocktail server for the place was everyone’s best friend and didn’t hesitate to throw her arms around me and Zeb, though he had to bend down quite a bit so the petite woman could reach.
“Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you guys in forever. It’s crazy in here tonight, so you might have a tough time finding a place to sit.” Her eyes widened.
Zeb rubbed his hand over his beard and scanned the busy bar. “What’s going on tonight?”
Dixie shrugged which sent her strawberry-colored curls dancing. “The band is one of Jet’s finds. Whenever he sends a group in they pack the house, and Asa isn’t here to tend bar because he’s trying to move into his new house, so it’s just Danny, who is pretty new, and this totally new guy Zack. They’re both okay but not as fast as Asa is. I should call Rome, but with Cora being pregnant and about to pop I’ll only do that in an emergency.”
She rattled off the list of familiar names that made up the group of men and women my brother claimed as his own. I nodded like I was following along and tapped Zeb on the shoulder. “You try and find a table. I’m gonna go wash my hands before we eat.” I needed I minute to pull myself together as well. My mask was slipping and the woman trying to peek out from behind it was starting to take over my entire life.
He nodded and moved away as I started to push through the crowd of people blocking my way to the restroom. I was brought up short by a light touch on my elbow. Dixie’s dark brown eyes gleamed up at me with all the romance and heart I was lacking.
“So you and the mountain man, huh?” The question was innocent and not all at the same time.
“I’m helping him out with some things and that led to us spending a lot of time together.” That was about as much of a lawyerly no-answer as there was when it came to the status of my relationship with the big, bearded man.
Dixie giggled, and really the only person who could get away with giggling like that as an adult and still make it look cute and sexy was this little firecracker of a woman. “He’s wanted to spend time with you for a long time and I always thought the feeling was mutual. Well, whatever it is, good for both of you. I love it when good people find each other even if they don’t seem to fit. That makes it even better in my book.”
Her gaze shifted toward the burnish-skinned bouncer and then back to me.
“Make each other happy. That’s all that matters. I have to go pick up an order and yell at the new guy to get his ass in gear. If Zeb finds a seat I’ll take a Coors Light to the table for you.”
And just like that, she scurried off, and I resumed my battle to get to the ladies’ room. I had never been to the Bar when it was so crowded, and I wasn’t sure what kind of crowd it actually was. There seemed to be a lot of young, college-aged kids milling about who I assumed were here for the band that was playing later. There was also a big group of men and women dressed similarly to me who had clearly stopped by for an after-work cocktail, and then there was a hodgepodge of other folks who looked like they had just randomly chosen any old bar to stumble into off the street.
I picked my way around noisy patrons and pushed into the bathroom. I had to wait in line once I was inside, and for once I didn’t feel like the odd man out because I knew the woman in front of me was wearing a Mauro Grifoni pantsuit that was way more expensive than anything I typically wore to work. It was also a really pretty shade of slate blue, and before it was my turn to disappear into a stall and do my business, I bookmarked the page on my phone where I could buy one for myself. Slate blue was pretty and it was colorful. Slate blue wasn’t a neutral color at all, and if I went ahead and bought it there would be no hiding it as a guilty pleasure when I wore it.
I was putting my phone back in my purse when I bumped into someone in the narrow hallway. I put my hands up to brace myself and looked up into the hazy and obviously drunk gaze of the man I ran into. He was half in and half out of his suit. His shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest even though he still had on a tie knotted up toward his throat. He swayed on unsteady feet and took me with him since he was still holding on to my arms.
I gave him what I hoped passed for a friendly grin instead of a grimace and repeated, “Excuse me,” as I tried to shake him off.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing . . . and so tall. I bet your legs are fucking incredible.”
I recoiled automatically at the slurred come-on and put some real effort into trying to pull free from him. I was annoyed that other men and women coming in and out of the bathroom didn’t bother to say anything to him.
“I have someone waiting on me. You need to let me go—now.” I put extra emphasis on the last word and gave him a solid shove in the chest. He grunted and curled his hands tighter into my arms, which made me yelp. I was going to have a collection of bruises left over from this encounter for sure.
“I don’t want to let you go. I want to give you a kiss.”
He was so sloppy and drunk that all the words smooshed together and we almost fell again as he leaned toward my face.
Fed up, I put a hand over his puckered lips and pushed back as hard as I could. “Gross. Let me go.”
I gained a little ground but when the man realized that he wasn’t going to get to put his mouth on mine, he gave me a teeth-rattling shake that had my head snapping back. I let out a yelp of surprise as he screamed at me that I was a stuck-up bitch and I should be glad anyone wanted to kiss my stuck-up ass.
I was going to reply that there was someone in this very bar who was more than happy to kiss my stuck-up ass all the time when that someone was suddenly there and the drunk guy ended up shoved against the wall with two hundred and fifty pounds of furious Zeb Fuller in his face.
Zeb wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t throwing punches. He was simply holding the guy up off the ground by his shirt and threatening to do really awful things to him in a quiet and deadly voice. Only they weren’t exactly threats. They were promises, and the drunk businessman could tell. His eyes zeroed in on me over Zeb’s shoulder asking for help. I sighed and took a step forward so I could put a hand on his coiled shoulder. He felt like a predator about to pounce and go for his prey’s throat.
“Zeb, let him go.”
“He has his hands on you. He made you scream. He’s not walking out of here without bleeding.”
It was all growled through teeth as he shook the man similar to the way I had just been shaken. I’d never seen him like this . . . well, that wasn’t true. He looked an awful lot like he did in that mug shot in the case folder on my desk, and that had panic rearing up and putting me in a choke hold. He couldn’t go down that route again.
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