Her Other Secret

by Dimon, HelenKay

  “Or you can look at this as a gift and never again offer to pay me.”

  “Sylvia.”

  “Tessa.”

  “Thank you.” The longer she stood there, the more her anger morphed into something almost intolerable—self-doubt. She questioned why she’d kept pursuing Hansen over the last few weeks . . . not really pursuing but asking him for coffee and having him come over and work on the house. Taking him out to the boat.

  Okay, she had pursued him and now she wondered why. She wasn’t looking for a relationship when she came here, and grumpy was not her thing. There were easier men. For some reason she picked hard.

  “Get settled in and then I’ll bring up some food.”

  She needed a shower and a few minutes to decide if she wanted to stew or cry over stupid Hansen Rye. “You don’t have to—”

  “You’re starting to tick me off.” Sylvia sent her an I’m-not-kidding glare. “Let people take care of you. And by that I mean me, your friend.”

  “I’m not great at accepting help.”

  “Then practice.”

  The door opened and a cool wet wind blew through the lobby. “You look ridiculous standing there like that.”

  “Always nice to see you, Ruthie.” Tessa mentally searched for a well of patience. This was not a time for a Ruthie battle, if there ever really was a good time for that nonsense.

  Ruthie walked over until she stood next to Tessa. Gave her a quick up-and-down glance that made it quite clear she was not impressed before looking behind the counter. “I’m here to see you, Sylvia.”

  “Well, I’m helping someone else right now.” Sylvia pointed to her right. “You can have a seat in the dining room.”

  Ruthie being Ruthie, she ignored the well-meaning suggestion and turned on Tessa instead. “Why are you here? This is not the best weather to be moving around.”

  “Honestly, Ruthie, that’s none of your business.” The final countdown on Tessa’s patience started ticking down toward zero. She could feel her frustration rising. If this went on too long, she just might provide Whitaker with the type of scene people would remember for decades.

  “It’s not a surprise.” Ruthie wore what likely qualified as a smile for her. “You finally realized he’s trouble.”

  “Who?”

  “Hansen.” Ruthie leaned against the check-in counter, ignoring the couple that came in and headed straight for the dining room without saying hello after seeing her. “Look, he might be handsome but, trust me, looks fade. Then you’re left with a guy who wanted something else and you’re miserable.”

  Some of Tessa’s simmering anger evaporated. Those words sounded personal, painful, so she treaded carefully. “Are we still talking about me?”

  After a sharp inhale Ruthie blinked a few times. “My point is that judges don’t just hand out protective orders.”

  Sylvia sighed at her. “Ruthie, not now.”

  “She needs to be smart and not get turned by a pretty face.”

  Just as Tessa’s sympathy floated to the surface, Ruthie torpedoed it again. She made it so difficult to cheer for her.

  “I’m not a child.”

  Ruthie stepped back and looked at the bundle in Tessa’s arms. “You look like one right now.”

  That’s it. “You know what? Shut up.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Sylvia gestured for the woman heading for them to make a U-turn. She smartly did.

  But Tessa didn’t care if they had an audience. She’d tried so many times to understand Ruthie. To tolerate her. To make excuses for her behavior. Not this time. “I’m sorry that you are in pain.”

  Ruthie shook her head. “I’m not—”

  The sounds of muffled voices and clanking silverware from the dining room faded. Tessa no longer cared who heard her or what they thought of her. She’d spent her entire life following the rules and not drawing attention to herself. It was time to stand up and be absolutely clear about her position.

  “We both know you are. Or maybe I’m giving you too much credit and you really are always mean and nasty for no apparent reason.” Tessa’s voice rose. She managed to keep from tipping over into all-out screaming but just barely. “Honestly, I don’t care about being nice to you anymore. I’m sick of it. My private life is not your business.”

  “I am trying to help you,” Ruthie shouted back.

  “No, you hate Hansen and that colors everything.”

  Ruthie glanced at Sylvia, but Sylvia refused to jump in and resolve this. Instead of taking the hint, Ruthie continued. “If he’s so great, why are you here and not there with him?”

  Because it was either leave his cabin or throw her pen at him. “We had a fight. He’s difficult and annoying. He’s also caring and charming and would never hurt Kerrie or Judson, though heaven knows Judson deserved it.”

  Ruthie’s mouth dropped open. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  A crowd gathered now. Some physically moved in, but others listened from the other room. Diners actively watched them, not trying to hide their interest. A couple stood unmoving on the stairway to the second floor.

  Fine with Tessa. They all needed to hear this part.

  “Maybe you should get your facts straight before you demean Hansen. He’s a good guy even though he tries very hard some days to fight his decency.” She leaned in closer to Ruthie and emphasized each word. “Leave him alone.”

  When she finished, silence screamed through the lodge. It bounced off the walls.

  The chandelier bathed the area in a soft light, so Tessa could see she had everyone’s attention. Then she heard shuffling at the door and realized Ruthie never closed it.

  “Thank you.”

  She heard his deep soothing voice before she turned around and saw him. “Hansen?”

  “You forgot your wallet.” He didn’t move any closer, but he held out one hand. “I also know you like these socks and my shirt.” He lifted up the bag in his other hand. “And you were reading a book, so that’s in here, too.”

  Seeing him stopped some of the thunderous anger rolling through her. Bringing the socks earned more of her forgiveness than an immediate apology would have, though he could make one of those later. The whole bag of goodies and coming here, where he had to know Sylvia would be waiting to unleash on him, was a pretty ballsy choice . . . and pretty adorable.

  Ruthie treated him to a tsk-tsk sound. “She left you.”

  Hansen nodded. “I deserved to be left.”

  A soft sigh floated down from the couple on the staircase. Tessa kept her focus on Hansen. She could see his regret. It was written all over his face. Little did he know he’d inched even closer to crawling out of trouble.

  She no longer felt like yelling. “It was just a stupid fight. Not a big thing.”

  Tension pinged through the room. Not the angry kind. The building-up-to-something good type.

  He threw Tessa a lopsided smile. “Any chance you’ll let me apologize? Public or private, it’s your choice.”

  She was halfway to forgiving him already. And, if she were being honest, they’d both been wound tight tonight and lost it. Blamed each other when the real issues were so much more complex than anything either of them said or did.

  But he did need to know she had her limits. “Depends. Are you going to stop being an ass?”

  Someone in the dining room laughed. Another person started coughing.

  Hansen ignored all of it. “For you, I’ll try.”

  “About time.” Sylvia slid a key across the counter. “Take room ten.”

  Chapter 17

  Hansen didn’t exhale until Tessa opened the door to her room and let him follow her inside. He took a minute to look around. The suite was about as big as the bottom floor of his house and spanned the entire side of the lodge. He pulled back the curtain and saw the lights from the Yacht Club in the distance. In the bright sunshine, the water view had to be spectacular.

  The fancy blue-and-beige wallpaper surprised him.
Nothing about the decor reminded him of Sylvia. He expected clean lines and muted colors, but given the age of the building, how it was one of the first on the island and used to be someone’s house, the antique furniture fit.

  A soft thud shifted his attention from the pencil drawings of flowers framed on the wall back to Tessa. She unloaded her paper bag and her jacket-roll of possessions on the desk with the spindly legs in the corner. The wood made a creaking noise despite the low weight of the package.

  But the decorations were not really his concern at the moment. He’d lost his temper back at his house. Let all his insecurities and confusion grow into a huge ball of fury. Then he aimed it at her, the one person he didn’t want to hurt.

  He set the bag of her things he’d brought on the floor near the king-size bed. “I’m sorry.”

  For a second, she didn’t say anything. Didn’t even turn around to face him. When she did, the anger he expected to see wasn’t there. Her expression bordered on curious, as if she were assessing him. If she planned to test him, he feared he’d fail. His instincts had misfired earlier, and he could only hope they worked now.

  She tilted her head to the side like she often did when she asked a question. “How often do you admit that?”

  “Never.”

  She nodded as she made a humming sound. “What are you sorry for?”

  Test time. “I acted like a jerk.”

  “Totally.”

  He bit back a smile. Tessa didn’t sugarcoat anything when it came to him. He liked that about her. One thing about being the boss back home meant people listened and followed his directions, usually without question. He had their attention because he signed the checks and his name appeared on the letterhead.

  She didn’t let him get away with much. She set boundaries and didn’t waver. She also declared her support of him to the entire lodge. Put that on the front page of the newspaper because that was the headline. She believed him. He wasn’t sure when he’d earned her trust or why he’d been so irresponsible to risk it tonight.

  “Instead of asking you a simple question about why you were in my closet . . .” She started to say something, but he quickly finished his thought. “. . . and listening to the answer, I jumped to conclusions.”

  Her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to figure out if he was selling her a line. “That’s putting it mildly. You lost it.”

  He couldn’t exactly argue with that version of the scene. Every bit of common sense had left his head. He would never have hurt her or even yelled at her, but words could cut and he needed to remember that. “Agreed.”

  She pushed away from the wobbly desk and stopped in the middle of the room where the bedroom and living areas met. “Your trust issues are annoying.”

  To him it wasn’t about trust, but he had no intention of arguing with her. “To be fair, I have been accused of murder.”

  She shot him a look that screamed do not go there. “Not by me, so don’t use that excuse.”

  “Okay.” Yeah, wrong turn. Life sucked the last few days . . . all but the part that included her. She’d made that point.

  “I dropped a pen.”

  She clearly wanted to bang on the message and he didn’t try to stop her. “I know that now.”

  “You could have asked nicely earlier.”

  He didn’t bother to remind her he already admitted that. Not when she was on a roll and unloading what he hoped was the last of her anger over his mistake. “My mind was a scrambled mess. Arianna said . . . It doesn’t matter.”

  “It sounds like it did.”

  “This was my fault. I got off track.”

  “And you took it out on me.”

  He exhaled. “I did.”

  “Why?” All of the anger left her voice. She shifted back to asking questions without any edge.

  “Because I’m an ass?”

  After a few seconds of hesitation, she smiled. “You got that right.”

  The thick wall of tension between them crumbled. Her battle stance relaxed. The anxiety tumbling around in his stomach finally took a break.

  He had one last thing to say, then he really wanted to drop this topic and hoped she did, too. “I didn’t mean to make you a target.”

  “Don’t give me that cute face.”

  All he did was stand there, looking at her through glasses that had fogged around the edges. But since it seemed safe, he let the smile happen this time. “Sorry.”

  “I should make you sleep in the bathroom.”

  She was talking about them and not hinting about kicking him out. He’d dodged a pretty big mess, which was why he stepped into the next question with some care. “Does that mean you’ll come back to the house with me?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  He heard the amusement in her voice . . . and had no idea what that meant. “Will you let me stay here with you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll go whenever you ask me to leave. Sleep on the floor.” The need to stick close went beyond what Ben said about her safety, though Hansen would have liked to pretend that was the answer and not have to face his growing feelings for her. This was about wanting to be near her. Angry, happy, sarcastic, frustrated with him—he would take whatever she’d give him because he liked every part of her.

  “Damn right.” She walked the rest of the way across the room until she stood right in front of him. She unzipped his soggy jacket and helped him out of it. Whipped it behind her in a smooth move and managed to snag it on the armrest of a chair. “And we are not having sex.”

  Jesus, when was that back on the table? “I get that.”

  He waited until she wrapped her arms around his neck before he touched her. Even then, he moved nice and slow, giving her plenty of time to slap him away, when he rested his hands on her waist. Above all else, he didn’t want to ruin this.

  “You can’t fix everything with that dick of yours, impressive as it is.”

  Well, now. “Is it?”

  She treated him to a satisfied sigh as she pulled him in closer. “Don’t play coy. You know you have skills.”

  “But will you let me . . . ?” No, he should stop there. Take the win.

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure what the right word is.”

  She frowned at him for a second before breaking into a smile. “Yes, you do. You know the word. Say it.”

  “Fine.” He winced but mostly to make her laugh because the idea of touching her, wrapping his body around her and holding her, sounded pretty damn good right now. “Cuddle.”

  Joy bounced off her. “Maybe.”

  “You’re a hard woman, Tessa Jenkins.” He trailed his hand up her back. “But soft in the best places.”

  “You’re trying to seduce me.”

  He fell into wanting her so easily. “I will give you whatever you want. Space. A hug. Other things.”

  “Oh?” Her fingers slid into his hair. “Like?”

  Every nerve ending sparked to life. Somehow, they pulled an evening that veered toward catastrophe back from the edge. Where it went from here totally depended on her. “Things that make you feel good.”

  “You are not allowed inside me right now. I’m serious.” She softened the demand with a quick kiss.

  “Got it.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind on that.”

  But that left so many other options for them to explore. “That’s the right answer.”

  “I’m furious with you.” She nibbled a line of kisses over his chin to that sensitive space just behind his ear.

  Her warm breath blew over him. Those amazing lips traveled and ignited. He had to fight to gather enough breath to answer her. “I can see that.”

  “But you should beg me.” She licked around his ear.

  His need for her pummeled him. Ground down any doubts and softened every fear. “I can do that, if you’d prefer.”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “But no talking.”

  Damn, woman. There was n
othing sexier on this earth to him than a woman who knew what she wanted and asked for it.

  “Ah.” He kissed her fingertip. “That kind of begging for forgiveness.”

  “You’re not off the hook.” She pulled away from him but didn’t break contact. Taking his hand, she guided him to the bed.

  When she sprawled on her back with her arms over her head, he thought he’d lose it.

  “Whatever you want,” he choked out.

  “Good man.”

  TESSA HOVERED ON the brink, ten seconds away from screaming his name. She didn’t care who else in Berman’s Lodge heard or if she scared an old couple or even if Ruthie still lurked around. Hansen’s mouth and fingers were pure magic. He played her like a virtuoso with their finest instrument.

  Her fingernails scraped against the headboard as she reached out to steady herself. Her body shook as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. Back and forth, tongue, then touch, over the small spot that made her shiver.

  She let out a groan as he revved her up one more time. Scissored his fingers inside her, making room for that incredible tongue. Time blurred and minutes ticked by, but she didn’t notice. Her entire world focused on him and the heat surging through her body.

  Just as her toes curled and her hands balled into fists, as the tightness building inside her finally threatened to let go, he pulled back again.

  “No!” she protested.

  “Tell me.”

  She grabbed for him. Lifted her head and shoulders off the bed. She was about to tug on his hair when a puff of air blew across her very center, making every muscle tremble.

  She fell back into the pillows again. “You’re killing me.”

  “This is how I beg.”

  Then he rubbed his thumb over that spot. The one that had her breath hiccupping in her chest.

  He repeated the process—bringing her right to the edge only to cool her back down and start all over again. He performed the move so many times over the hour that sweat had broken out all over her naked body and her bones had turned to mush.

  When he pulled away from her this time, leaving her hovering on the cusp of satisfaction, her thighs actually shook with need. She glanced down, saw him curled between the juncture of her legs. His dark hair right there. His lips wet from being on her and inside her.