Vow of Honor (Vow Series Book 3)

by Emma Renshaw

  "Yes."

  "Oh, my God," she breathes, clutching the door. "How was it?"

  "Best I've ever had," I answer honestly.

  "Oh, my God.” Isabella’s hand comes up to cover her mouth.

  I sigh before bringing a hand to my forehead. "I know."

  "Come in, come in." She grabs my arm and pulls me into her white marble entryway. "I need to know everything."

  I follow her through the long and wide hallways, our footsteps echoing around the quiet house. She rushes over to the bar in the living room as I plop down on the white sofa. "White wine," I say. I'm always terrified to spill something in her immaculate space. It’s huge, cavernous, and very cold. Almost unwelcoming, but Spencer loves it. And, Isabella loves Spencer. "Where's Spencer?"

  She sighs, uncorking a bottle of wine. "Working. Where else?"

  I study her face, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and the tiny lines around her frowning mouth. Before Spencer started working and trying to keep up with everyone by showcasing his insane wealth, they were happy. I truly hope this is a rough patch and that things will settle down for the two of them. "Y'all should plan a trip, just the two of you, to reconnect."

  Her hand grips the bottle tightly, her lips curling into her mouth. Her shoulders shake slightly as she releases a shuddering breath. "I think it would take more than a getaway," she says softly.

  "Oh, Iz. What's going on?"

  She shakes her head, a sad smile crossing her face. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's talk about you and sex. Sex is so much more fun than my issues."

  I laugh, taking the glass of wine she extends to me before she sits next to me, curling her legs underneath her.

  "Okay, tell me everything. Don't you dare leave out a dirty detail." She takes a large sip of wine, waiting for me to dish it all.

  After I finish telling her about James—from the moment we met to the intense physical therapy session we just had—I'm still reeling from everything I'm feeling.

  "I really like his friends, and I don't want to stop hanging out with them because I messed up and slept with him."

  "Did he tell you to go away?"

  "No," I admit. "He said let's pretend like it didn't happen. I can't forget that it happened. He may be able to, but I can't. He's obviously more experienced than me, so maybe this is his usual. I don't know. How do I act around someone I've slept with?"

  "You manage to be around Patrick," she says, taking a sip of her wine and running her fingers through her long hair.

  "That's different."

  "How?"

  "We were together for years. I still wanted to be with him, and I thought it was just a matter of time before we got back together."

  I cringe, thinking of all the sleepless nights and countless times I cried myself to sleep worrying over Patrick. I thought if I could just change something, do something different, make him notice me again, that he'd come back. He's never coming back, though. And more importantly, I don’t want him to come back.

  “Babe,” Isabella says slowly and hesitantly.

  “What?” I ask on a whisper.

  “I saw him with Alana. Did you know her and Todd broke off their engagement?”

  “I heard,” I say, not mentioning that I heard this from Patrick, who told me he planned to ask her out. That conversation truly sealed that door shut. All the windows, too. He’ll never get back in. I won't be the girl who comes in second. I just won't do it. I won't be the girl who pines for the boy.

  "Do you want to sleep with James again?"

  Yes. My core clenches, as if remembering the rippling orgasms. "No," I mutter.

  Isabella smirks and chuckles while patting my arm placatingly. "Liar."

  "I don't even like him," I insist. That's not quite true. His grumpiness is growing on me. It's almost...charming.

  "Treat him like a stranger," Isabella says. "Go out, have fun with these new friends, but focus on the girls. Try to let him fade into the background."

  Right. As if a man like James could ever fade into the background.

  Chapter 19

  Tatum

  "Ignore him. I can do that. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore," I chant. My hand taps my knee with each word. My stomach is rolling with nerves. I’m minutes away from seeing James again where I will have to act cool and like our one-time-thing didn’t happen. How do people do this? I’m so not cut out for this.

  "I'm sorry, did you say something?" the Uber driver asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror like I'm a crazy person.

  "Sorry, talking to myself," I say, smiling brightly. I watch him roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath. Okay then. One-star for you, buddy.

  The driver pulls up in front of the restaurant where I'm meeting James and the rest of the group—I mean, Savannah and the rest of the group. I'm not meeting James here. He'll be here, but he's not the reason I'm showing up.

  "Um…," I say, staring at the front door, clutching my turning stomach. A quick glance at the clock lets me know I’m a little early. Most of them are never early, except the one I’m too nervous to sit alone with. I’m not ready to go in. What if he’s already there, but no one else is? "Can you drive around the block again?"

  He turns toward me, staring at me with a look of pure annoyance and a raised eyebrow. I smile and shrug, making my voice sound impossibly sweet. "Please?"

  The driver stares at me for another moment before turning around and shifting the gear into Drive. At that moment, James walks in front of the car, doing a double take when he sees me in the backseat.

  Shit.

  "Never mind." I sigh. "It's too late."

  "Do you want to go around the block or not?" the driver asks rudely. James hasn't moved a muscle; he's stalled in front of the car, staring at me through the windshield.

  "No, I'm getting out."

  James walks around the car as I open the door and meet him on the sidewalk.

  "Uber?" he asks, his eyes grazing down my body quickly before they meet mine again.

  "Yeah." I shrug. "Thought it would be best. That Valerie sure can talk a girl into a lot of things."

  James’s lips roll into his teeth like he's biting back a smile. I wish he'd just release it. I've never seen him smile or laugh. His face will light up with amusement, but other than that, he doesn't show much emotion.

  "She's good at that," he finally says with so much affection in his voice. James walks to the door, holding it open for me and following me inside with his hand hovering over my lower back. He isn't touching me, but I feel the heat of his palm radiating just above my skin.

  I'm lost in a mental debate about whether I should act nonchalant or if I should take a step back to make that palm connect with me. A shiver rolls up my spine when I remember how good his large, rough, calloused hands felt on my skin. James’s gruff voice breaks my reverie.

  "We're meeting people here. Think they're already here," he says to the hostess before motioning me forward. As soon as we step into the dining area, I spot Valerie, Harper, and Savannah. James and I head toward them, and I try to ignore the smiles the girls are wearing.

  "Pick a spot," James murmurs when we reach the table. There are two open seats on the other side of Valerie. I sit in one of them, and for some reason, I expect James to sit next to me. So I'm surprised when he sits next to Liam, far away from me.

  That's okay. I'm supposed to ignore him, anyway. I'm here to be friends with the girls, not to get caught up in him, I remind myself. I paste a smile on my face, turning toward the girls.

  Valerie launches straight into questioning. "Did y'all come together?"

  I cringe. "Oh, no. Definitely not," I state firmly. "Just happened to arrive at the same time."

  "Do you have a boyfriend we don't know about?"

  My lips twitch. I've only been around these girls a few times, but Valerie is already acting offended, like I've kept something from her.

  "Nope," I say, smiling. Heat creeps up my neck when I feel the weig
ht of a stare. I know it's impossible to feel someone staring at you, but I swear I feel his eyes burning holes into the side of my face. I force my smile to stay put and keep looking at the girls. "Why? Know anyone I'd like?"

  My hand curls into a fist underneath the table while I replay the same sentence over and over in my head. Don't look, don't look, don't look.

  "I might know someone," Savannah says with a sly smile.

  "Do you have a fuck buddy?" Valerie asks.

  I flush in embarrassment, but I’ll keep the smile plastered on my face if it's the last thing I do. I clear my throat to answer Valerie’s question, but I’m interrupted by someone else speaking.

  "Hey, Harper," James calls from the other end of the table. "Are you and Roman getting married before or after the baby?"

  We turn our heads toward him. His eyes are on mine even though he's speaking to Harper. I glance at her; her mouth is open in shock over his blunt question. If I didn't know for sure that he's not interested in me, I'd think he's trying to steer the conversation away from my love life.

  Harper smiles and says, "We haven't decided," at the same time Roman voices, "Definitely before." She turns toward him, leveling him with a scowl. His face splits into a wide grin before he winks at her. Harper’s nose crinkles before the scowl slides off her face and she matches his grin.

  James is still staring at me, but I'm focusing at the table, trying to be fascinated by the design of the tablecloth.

  "I still want to know if you have a fuck buddy," Valerie says, causing me to look up.

  Hudson and Kiernan walk up to the table at that moment, taking the last two seats. "I'd like to know that, too," Hudson says, winking at me.

  "No, I don't," I say nervously. My gaze accidentally turning to James before turning back to everyone else. I hope no one caught that look. In the second my eyes were on James, I noticed his features were strained.

  And, finally, the man looks away from me, and I feel like I can take my first deep breath since sitting down.

  Happiness overwhelms me throughout dinner while I enjoy the company of each person at the table—except James. I continue to ignore him throughout the night, but I am thankful that he brought Savannah into my life. As we're finishing up dinner, none of us quite ready to go home, we decide to head toward The Cellar.

  Harper walks out hand-in-hand with Roman, her other hand on Hudson's arm as she talks quietly to him. Valerie is whispering in Gabe's ear, and Savannah is making Liam chuckle as she murmurs to him and Kiernan. James is in the front of our pack as we head out, and I'm in the back. The friendship I felt toward Savannah, Valerie, and Harper a moment ago vanishes when we stand in front of the restaurant.

  "James said you Ubered, Tate?" Savannah asks.

  "Yes, can I—"

  "Liam and I have a quick stop to make, so we'll meet everyone there," she says, rushing off with Liam following behind her.

  "I want to get frisky with Gabe in the car." Valerie laughs, pulling him toward their car before I can ask for a ride. Kiernan and Hudson take off after them without uttering a word.

  My eyes fall on Harper, anticipating her excuse. Savannah's words from earlier ring through my head. She might know someone for me. Right. Funny how James is about to be the only one left while the rest of them just took off.

  "I really need to talk to Roman," Harper says. "Privately."

  Roman shoots me a wink before wrapping an arm around Harper. They're both laughing as they walk toward their car.

  I lick my lips before turning to James. "I can always request an Uber." My voice sounds quiet and unsure. I know he wants us to act normal around each other, but if we're going to be thrown together over and over again, that could get really difficult.

  "Don't do that," James says gruffly. "Let's go."

  I sigh and follow behind to his SUV. He opens the passenger door for me, patiently waiting for me to get inside and buckle up. When he closes the door, James’s scent overwhelms me. I close my eyes and breathe it in deeply, opening my eyes once he hops inside the car.

  "Thanks for the ride," I say.

  He nods. The vibration of my phone echoes loudly in the silence of the car. We've been on the road for a couple of miles and neither one of us has tried to start a conversation.

  James glances at me when my phone vibrates loudly again. "You can take that."

  I grab my phone out of my purse, surprised to see a text message from Patrick.

  Patrick: Hey

  Me: Hey

  Nerves flutter in my belly as I wonder why he's texting me. It's been a while since Patrick has sought me out.

  Patrick: Pretty girl like you shouldn't be home alone on a Saturday night.

  I roll my eyes. Booty call. That's where this is going.

  Me: I'm not alone.

  Patrick: Yes, you are.

  I look over at James.

  Me: I'm sitting next to someone right now, pretty sure that means I'm not alone.

  Patrick: LOL. I meant you should be with friends. Where are you? Sitting at a coffee shop?

  Me: I'm with friends, going to a bar.

  Patrick: Everyone is here tonight. You're not here, so I know you're lying.

  Me: Yeah, Isabella invited me, but I already had plans with some friends.

  Patrick: Come here instead. I miss you.

  I laugh at the absurdity of this situation. It’s as if he has alarm bells signaling him for when I’m ready to move on. This time he’s too late.

  Patrick: I've been thinking…

  Me: What?

  Patrick: Since you'll be bored out of your mind with whoever your mom sets you up with for the gala, let's make plans to go home together if I don't like my date.

  Heat creeps up my neck, making my face feel like it's on fire. I know James can't see my screen, but I'm embarrassed to even be having this conversation next to him. Does he really think I'm that pathetic? Why does he assume that I can't get my own date and that I won't go home with them? How did I not see this before?

  Me: My mom isn't setting me up.

  Patrick: Doesn't matter. I don't know who I'm taking yet, but ending the night with you sounds fun.

  Me: We won’t be starting or ending that night together.

  Patrick: Babe, we've been through this, keeping our options open. Don’t get in a hissy fit.

  By "our” options he means his options. I ignore his message and don’t respond and am surprised when he doesn’t take the hint and sends another message.

  Patrick: Come meet us tonight. I want to see you.

  Chapter 20

  James

  Tatum is furiously typing on her phone the entire way to the bar. Her mouth is turned down and her cheeks are bright red. She clears her throat a few times and blinks rapidly before slipping her phone into her purse as we pull into the parking lot.

  I meet her at the tailgate, and we walk inside together in silence. She has a pained look on her face. I open my mouth to ask if she's okay, but she beats me to speaking.

  "I'll meet y'all at the table in a minute."

  I watch her walk to the bar and flag down the bartender before tearing my gaze away to look for everyone. They're not here. I expected to be first, since they all gave us lame excuses why they couldn't take Tatum. I knew their game the moment Savannah gave the first excuse.

  I plop down at our usual table and search out Tatum at the bar again. She tosses back a shot, cringing as she swallows. Worry eats my gut, wondering if it's something to do with the text messages she received in the car.

  She turns around, her eyes landing on me, and walks toward the table, never breaking eye contact. My dick hardens behind my zipper as I watch her hips sway with each step. Her bright blue heavy-lidded eyes roaming my face and down my body. She is so fucking fascinating to watch. Every thought that goes through her head flashes across her face. I could spend hours, days, years watching her and never get tired of it. I've never been a guy who can lounge around watching hours of mindless TV, but I'd ha
ppily spend my life looking at nothing else but Tatum.

  Her walk slows as she gets closer to the table, looking at the nine empty chairs. Indecision and fear is at war on her face, amusing the shit out of me. My amusement turns to delight when I see her eyes land on a chair, nodding slightly to herself. Of course, it's the chair farthest from me.

  "Tatum," I say in a slight warning. Her eyes widen as I pull out the chair next to me, indicating to it with my hand. I don’t know when I decided that I need her next to me, but right now it feels fucking crucial that she’s within touching distance.

  Her eyes jump back to the other chair. She takes a step toward it, but I stop her with one word. "Tate."

  Her nickname, something I swore I’d never use. She sucks in a sharp breath, whipping around to face me with large, shocked eyes. I shocked myself by uttering that word, but after watching her in the car and then throwing back a shot as soon as we got in here. I need to know she’s okay more than I need to keep my distance.

  The honesty of that one word is as much as I can give. That word says everything I can’t say.

  “You called me Tate."

  "Sit down." I point to the chair next to me again. "Please."

  Her blue eyes widen even more as she sits down next to me, staring at me the entire time, doing exactly what I knew she would do if I called her by her nickname, giving her even that tiny glimpse into my thoughts. I told her I never would. I told her only people I like will get called by their nicknames.

  I’m completely unsure how I feel about her, I’m unsure of our whole situation. There’s one thing I’m damn sure of though. I need to make sure she’s okay and that’s only going to happen if she’s next to me.

  "Thank you." I incline my head just a bit.

  "Uh...you're welcome?"