Page 22 of Then and Now (The Edge of Retaliation 3)
He turns me, his arm guiding me back up the front path. The girl, who is probably so freakin’ nice, gives me a sympathetic smile. Here I was judging her, when she isn’t here to be judged. She’s a friend. My mind attacked me at a moment it found me the weakest.
“I’ll leave you both to it. I’ll call you later, Tatum. I hope you feel better,” she says, smiling at me and then squeezing his shoulder before disappearing down the front path.
We step inside the house and Tatum closes the door before turning to me and saying, “Go wash your face, I’ll get us a drink, and you can tell me why you’re here, lookin’ like this, yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
I walk down the hall and into his bathroom, turning on the tap and washing my face, trying to avoid looking too hard at myself because I know I’m a mess. My eyes are red, my cheeks are blotchy, and my lips are swollen. Let’s not get started on the snot I have to subtly blow out.
I look horrible, and yet he still invited me in and offered to listen, like I wasn’t just ugly crying on his damned doorstep.
I walk back out once I’ve cleaned up a little, and he’s sitting on the sofa holding two beers. Smart man.
I walk over and go to sit across from him, but he shakes his head, his face stern, and pats the seat beside him. Hesitantly, I go and sit there, taking the beer when he offers it to me. He’s so close here, his gorgeous face only inches from mine, his big body on full display, the warmth of his skin penetrating mine. I want to just throw myself into his arms, breathe him in, feel his lips against mine.
I want him possibly more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
“What happened tonight, darlin’?” he asks me, taking a sip of his beer.
Do I make up a story, or do I just tell him the damn truth? Just rip it all open and tell him exactly what was going on? I’m tired of drowning in lies and betrayal, in pain and anguish. I just want to feel free, to feel better, to breathe again and to do that in full honesty.
So, I tell him the truth.
“Patrick and I broke up, but that’s not why I’m crying. In fact, the need to cry over that hasn’t even arisen which makes me feel like I’m a damned monster because I’ve spent most of my adult life with him. Still, I don’t seem to care that we’re over. If anything, I’m relieved. I’m so damned relieved. He didn’t even care when I got back, looking like I look, he didn’t react or freak out. He was just accusing me of having an affair …”
Tatum’s hand tightens around his beer, in frustration, no doubt, but he doesn’t say anything. He just continues to listen.
“Anyway, he seems to think he can prove I was having an affair because he saw you leaving my apartment, but I honestly don’t care because I haven’t done a single thing with you, and …”
“And what?” his voice comes out husky, and thick, and it makes me ache in places I haven’t ached in for a good long time.
“And I want to,” I say, my voice soft and hesitant.
I look into his eyes and continue, “I want to, Tatum. I have so many emotions when it comes to you. Frustrated, disappointment, a little anger and hurt, but mostly I have this feeling when I’m around you that I can’t shake. A feeling that hits me deeper than any emotion I’ve ever had, and I can’t get it to stop.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply before opening them and saying, “There is not a single thing in this world I want more than you, Joanne.”
Holy shit.
I make a gasping sound, and then without thought, my beer lands on the coffee table and his follows quickly behind it. Then he’s reaching for me, and everything in my body is thrumming with anticipation of the feeling I’ve craved for so long with him.
His big hands curl around my waist and he lifts me as if I weigh absolutely nothing and pulls me onto his lap. I adjust myself so my knees are either side of his hips, and I look down at him. His hands move up to tuck my hair behind my ears as he holds my eyes, the intense feeling between us something I didn’t even know was possible.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, do you know that?” he murmurs, running his finger down my cheek.
“I was scared, Tatum,” I whisper, the truth spilling out of me. “When we were in that basement, I was so fucking scared. I didn’t know what to think or feel. But, I was glad you were with me. I didn’t want anyone else there but you.”
