Tough Enough (Tough Love Book 3)

by Trixie More

  The judge returned, settled himself behind the bench. The lawyers returned to their tables.

  “I release the defendant to await trial under the terms of his prior bail.”

  The gavel banged, and a sense of life rushed through Doug. Time. He had time.

  She was behind him, patting his shoulder. He didn’t have to look to know it. Who else would it be?

  He turned, and she leaned over the low divider, pulling him to her, hugging him close, one elbow upon his shoulder, that long forearm around the back of his head, her palm on his skull, and he knew. There was simply no other woman for him. He could count the times they’d been alone on one hand. They’d never slept together. What a pathetic mess he was.

  They still had the reporters to contend with, many of whom were watching the two of them with interest, he supposed. And Tommy. He needed to thank Tommy for being there for him once again. Always being there, his one true friend other than Alice and Will. Sophia, Marley...when had his circle of friends started to grow?

  Doug backed out of Sophia’s embrace, drinking in her face, still bruised, and more than that, the expression in her bright eyes.

  “You need to go and speak to the prosecutor. You need to leave here with him,” Doug said.

  “What? Why?” She looked around. “Oh.” That was an “oh” that didn’t sound happy. “You think I should distance myself from you because there are reporters here?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  Frustration bloomed inside him. Sophia might be the woman who was made for him, but he was by no means the man for her. “Why? Because you have a life that’s going to go on, long after I’m...”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “After you’re what?”

  God. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, here in the courtroom for Christ’s sake. He was fighting to stay out of prison on a trumped-up charge, but he still had other real crimes hanging over his head. Carl Johansen’s civil suit for one. Doug frowned. Carl would be playing a long game.

  First, he’ll take all my capital in the civil suit, and then, he’ll get his son-in-law to press charges on the rape. Basically, Doug’s life was over.

  “I’m a dead man walking, lady. You better get that through your head,” he said.

  She was still close enough that he could see the blood drain from her face, whether from anger or something else, he couldn’t tell. Her expression was as smooth and calm as her nail polish, and then she spoke, and he knew.

  “Why would you say that?” The tremor in her voice wasn’t anger.

  “Sweetheart, please. You’re killing me. Just don’t leave here with me.” Doug took another step back and turned to William, pasting a smile on his face and pumping his attorney’s hand like he was drawing water. Then he turned around to find Tommy, but for once, his friend wasn’t there. He must have left, the men’s room maybe? Doug turned back to William and steered them both straight toward the reporters.

  “It’s not going to be fun, William, so let’s get it over.”

  William was frowning at him. “You sent her away?”

  “Absolutely,” he replied, and then they were engulfed by the media.

  Chapter 24

  He was outside her hotel.

  The text sat on Sophia’s phone, taunting her. She no longer had a room, but she could imagine Doug there, the broad shoulders, his beard, red in the purple evening light of the street, black jacket, leaning against a building. Ready to wait there all night. Really, how could what she imagined be true? He couldn’t see. How the hell was he there?

  “Why does he have to do this?” she said out loud. Derrick didn’t even ask who. They were sitting at his dining room table, both engrossed in their phones.

  Sophia dialed Doug back. She didn’t wait for him to speak.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I told you I’m outside the hotel. I want to see you.”

  “You can’t see anything.” The cruel words were out of her mouth before she could consider them. Across from her, seated at his own dining room table, Derrick raised his eyebrows. She was usually kinder than this, wasn’t she?

  “If I get close enough to you, I’ll be able to see you believe me,” he said. His voice was compelling, confident. As usual, he didn’t respond to Sophia’s anger like a normal guy. “I want to see you.”

  “I’m not at the hotel,” she said, frustrated. “You didn’t want anything to do with me.” Did her voice sound plaintive? Across from her, Derrick huffed out a quiet laugh. “It’s not funny!”

  “I’m not laughing,” Doug said.

  “No, not you. Derrick. I’m at his house.”

  “Are you staying there tonight?”

  “Yes,” she said. She’d been here for the last two weeks, sleeping on the couch. She didn’t really want to stay one floor below Ben, but when she got out of the hospital, she’d sorta wound up here.

  “No, you’re not,” he said.

  “No? Says who?” She might not want to camp on her brother’s couch again, but she wasn’t about to have another opinionated man try to run her life.

  Doug blew out a breath and changed course immediately. “Do you want to stay there?”

  “No...” she told him the truth. He was miles away, what could he do?

  “I’ll be there in a half hour. Where are you?”

  “You don’t even know where I am, how can you be here in a half hour?”

  At that, Derrick’s jaw dropped. His mouth stayed closed like he had an entire biscuit in there, and he was trying not to grin. He pushed back from the table, giving her a nod, his head bobbing up and down like he knew the most excellent punchline ever, and then he was gone to the kitchen. Sophia went out onto the landing, and then, worried Ben might hear, headed out to the street. Doug was patiently explaining that it didn’t matter where she was, he’d be there.

  “That is if you want to see me,” he finished. There was a vulnerability in his voice that didn’t belong there.

  “Of course I do, but...”

  She glanced down the street and did a double-take. Coming toward her, probably on their way from the subway stop, was Marley and Ben. Sophia’s heart slammed in her chest. They had Karito, who might be Doug’s daughter, with them, and suddenly, it was too much. The way seeing them together made her wish for things she never sought, shoved everything she wasn’t, hadn’t even wanted to be, in her face.

  “I’m coming to you,” she said. “Now.” She headed inside to pack.

  “I’m coming to you now,” Sophia had said. Her voice had changed, sounding urgent and angry.

  The frustration and conviction her voice brought out in him was familiar and raw. It was the feeling that drove him to become a day trader before he could drive; it was the feeling that pushed him out of Pennsylvania and into Manhattan to compete with ivy league graduates for a share of the financial pie. It was the same feeling that he sought and used to create a business that combined conscientious investing and fat returns. A company that took up an entire floor of a midtown building and employed dozens of people. It was the same feeling that sent him out into the street to confront Dorothy when her affair with Ed Walker threatened that business. It got him through his two years in prison, and it carried him down the steps to that hellhole of a cellar when he couldn’t see a blessed thing. And now? It was driving him to call her back to him when he should be staying away. Now, she was on her way, and if this was happening, then he’d better figure out how to do it right.

  “Fuck.” Doug hung up his phone. Step one had been figuring out how to fucking text without being able to read the tiny letters. When the light was dim, even a magnifier didn’t help. That had required a trip to the store where some teenager talked to him like he was eighty. To top it all off, he was now in the fucking new apartment that Tommy had leased for him.

  Doug spoke his new address into the phone and had the phone read it back to him. He sent the text. Next up, make the apartment respectable
. The hallway, painted a soft yellow with white trim, had intricate moldings shaped in rectangles along the lower half of the walls. The carpet in the hall was off white of all dumb-ass things and thick. The place looked like something that would belong to an old woman. Or Tommy’s parents. There were two doors on the left, one to the bath, which was adequate. A basic tub with a shower, sink with a tiny cabinet, and john. The bedroom was a nice size, but inside was just his mattress on the floor, a cardboard box with a lamp and an alarm and a smallish TV that Tommy had given him—something leftover—which Doug couldn’t use because he couldn’t friggin’ see.

  Doug changed the sheets, which was a chore in itself, but not so bad. He tossed the dirties in the tiny washer hidden in the hall closet. With that done, he headed to the living room. His pleather recliner was in there and a large desk with his computer. Next to the recliner, another box serving as a side table and a brand new super-bright reading light. The same plush and impractical carpet covered the floor. Two windows, both looking out toward the back of the building. Not that he could see out there anyway. To him, it was bright light or dim, vague boxes of color, and, if it was full noon and sunny, he could make out some other shapes.

  He closed the blinds.

  That left the kitchen, mostly empty and the little alcove where a halfway decent dinette set sat. There were padded seats on the wooden chairs, and the table was clean and new. Functional and comfortable, but certainly nothing he would pick out. He was pretty much living in a mini-redux of Tommy’s parents’ home. Except for the lack of furniture and the use of cardboard. Doug sat at the table, back straight, eyes not really focused on anything. He was a cripple. His record kept him from ever finding employment, and his personality wasn’t much for it, so he’d wind up day trading again. This was for certain. He’d manage their investments, including the cash they’d just got for his real apartment. He’d survive, and financially, he’d probably thrive, it was what he did. That wasn’t enough for a woman like Sophia.

  He remembered the day she’d followed his informant. They’d stopped to eat, Sophia getting so excited that he’d found Camisa’s bodyguard. She’d dragged her chair around the table, and his heart had soared. She was so calm all the time. That day, she’d burst with excitement and pulled her chair over to his, put her arms around him and hugged him, her head on his chest. He’d felt like a king. She’d been so warm. He could almost feel the weight of her now, see the smooth shine of her dark hair, feel the tightening of her arms around him. That might have been the moment that did it for him. When she arrived, they’d be alone together for the first time since she’s told him so softly that she liked him.

  He wasn’t the man for her, but he wouldn’t tell her no. He just wasn’t that good.

  Doug’s apartment was a shock, to say the least. He’d gone from a brooding, modern, stone, and glass fortress to some New York remake of a Golden Girl’s set. Yet, the man himself was still larger than life, standing to the side as Sophia passed him and entered the apartment. The carpet was as close to white as it could be without actually being so.

  There ought to be a sign in the hall instructing visitors to leave their shoes on the mat, she thought. She snuck a look at Doug’s feet. He had his black running shoes on. Something told her he didn’t care what happened to the floor.

  She continued ahead; the apartment was a rectangle, with the entryway at the far left. To the right was a hallway that had a couple of doors and what appeared to be a large closet. Straight ahead were a tiny kitchen, a dinette, and a living room in an open layout. There were two windows with the blinds shut. She took off her coat and handed it to Doug. He was looking toward her face but not really focused on her eyes. That was what she missed. Him looking her right in the eyes. Her chest felt hollow at the thought, her mood softening, saddening.

  “Is that an overnight bag?” he asked.

  Sophia glanced down at the quilted carry all she’d brought. Her purse was still on her shoulder. “Yes.”

  He bent, the back of his neck exposed beneath the line of his hair. He’d gotten it cut again, and it was back to the short bristles. His hand landed on the bag, his fingers brushing over the surface before he picked it up. “I’ll show you the room,” he said.

  “Am I staying?” she asked.

  “You brought a bag,” he replied as he walked away. Sophia followed him. The room was bare. Setting the bag inside the door, Doug opened the closet. There were only a few of his clothes. He hung her coat up, his movements only slightly hesitant, which meant, in here, with the bright overhead light in the room and one in the closet, he could see better. She felt tender towards him. He wasn’t invulnerable. He wasn’t made of stone, but then, she already knew that. None of them were.

  Sophia walked up behind him as he turned. She stood straight and close, looking at his face, and this time, his eye looked into hers. Their natural electric connection played at the edges of her feelings, but she wasn’t ready to let go of that tenderness. Beneath her palms, his face was smooth. He’d shaved. She could see a long crease beside his mouth where a dimple might appear. She brushed her fingers over his brow and smoothed them lightly down his cheeks. Tipping his chin up, his eyes fell shut momentarily, his hands came up and rested on the curves of her hips. She could feel each of his fingers resting on her lower back.

  “I missed you,” he said, looking only at her, seeing right into her. His mouth curved into a faint smile. He seemed so much more still than she was used to with him.

  Beneath her thumb, his lip was warm and smooth. Sophia watched as she dragged it slowly across that narrow ledge. The pupil in his right eye dilated. His left eye was slightly off, but it was still the blue of a baby blanket. That reminded her of Karito, and sadness won her over. She’d hoped for the wild wanting. Apparently, it was gone. Maybe it would never return. After all, she was frigid. Sophia dropped her hands, but he didn’t release her waist.

  “What?” he asked.

  Sophia turned; Doug let her go. As she headed back down the hallway, with Doug behind her, she could feel his curiosity like a wave of heat on her back.

  “I saw Marley while I was in the hospital.”

  “Marley?”

  “Is this the only seat?” Sophia asked, gesturing to the recliner.

  “We can go buy another if you want,” he said.

  She turned to the dinette and pulled out a chair, settling herself as he followed her. He pulled out another and turned it around, straddling the seat and folding his arms across the top. He leaned his chin on his arms, his expression warm. “What’s going on?”

  “Marley, from Mastrelo’s?” There, she was certain he knew who she was discussing now.

  “Oh. Yeah?” He didn’t look guilty or lovelorn. She was dabbling in areas that should be none of her business, but it felt different than that. It felt like she was constructing a contract that needed to be signed and dated before whatever was next could happen. Was that what she was doing?

  “She had Karito with her,” Sophia said, watching him.

  He smiled. “She’s a handful,” he said with affection. “Like her mother.” Doug sat up straighter, the smile fading from his mouth. Sophia wasn’t sure what she was giving away, but her face must have told him something because a slight frown pulled at his brow. She sat stiff and unhappy, watching him.

  “Marley started to tell me who Karito’s father is,” Sophia said.

  His frown deepened, already linking Sophia’s behavior and the conversation. His eyes narrowed. “Who do you think it is?”

  “I think it’s you.” There, she’d said it. Doug had a daughter with Marley, and now Marley had Ben. Not that Sophia really wanted Ben back, but it just made her feel so much...less.

  The frown vanished from Doug’s face; the first real smile she’d seen on him since she arrived started to build on his face, pushing his mouth wider and wider, his good eye lighting up with...it was her turn to ask him.

  “What?”

  He grinned broadl
y, and her heart gave a small stutter, like an old engine turning over on a cold morning.

  “You’re jealous,” he said.

  “That’s why you’re smiling?” She stared at him, her blood starting to move, like chilled oil gradually warming, sliding thickly through her veins. “You’re an ass.” She stood abruptly, but there wasn’t anywhere to go in this place where neither of them really belonged.

  She flung her arm out, suddenly angry at the decor, at him, at the way things were. “This place is hideous!”

  He was still smiling, rising slowly from his chair, focused on her face, his gaze seeking hers.

  “Oh no,” she said. Doug stepped away from the chair, the movement somehow masculine. He was masculine. A yin to her yang. #I’mAFool.

  “You better have a long story to tell me,” she said sternly, but her heart was starting to pump hard, her body stringing itself tighter the closer he advanced on her.

  “Karito’s not mine.”

  “How do you know?”

  He smiled, deep and sensuous, stopping just a foot away from her. All of his attention was on her now, his gaze flickering between her eyes, her mouth. “How do you think?” He tipped his head and moved even closer.

  “She told you?”

  “I never slept with her.”

  “You...” This hadn’t even occurred to Sophia. As soon as Marley had started to speak, Sophia had thought of the red highlights and all the things Marley had said about how macho and strong Doug was, how she defended him even when everyone around her hated him, and it seemed just natural that they had been lovers. “She loves you, I can tell,” Sophia said, unwilling to give up.

  Doug slid his warm, large hand behind her head, cupping her gently. “What’s not to love?” He smiled.

  “Why would she love you if you two weren’t...” Sophia trailed off.

  “Lovers?” He was looking her right in the eye, confidence and sexuality rolling off him, pushing her toward a conclusion she wasn’t quite ready to reach.