Love Like Ours (Sugar Lake Book 3)

by Melissa Foster

  Relief swept through Derek. She was making future plans with his father. That had to be a good sign.

  “I would love that.” Maria embraced Talia, and then she touched Derek’s cheek and said, “Why so serious, mijo? Life is good.”

  “I’m just tired.” He glanced at Talia, wondering what else she had to talk to him about. Talia smiled sheepishly, and that sweet smile coalesced with the anguish in her eyes, tugging at his heartstrings.

  “Late nights.” Maria winked as she put on her coat. “Sometimes tired is a good thing.”

  After she left, Derek locked the door and helped Talia off with her coat before stripping out of his own. “Do you want something to eat? Drink?”

  She shook her head.

  He took her hand, pulling her against him. “We’re not going to yell at each other, are we? Because if we are, I think we’d better talk outside.”

  “I’m not a yeller. Are you?” She looked a little worried.

  Now he was the one shaking his head. He tipped her chin up and kissed her lips. “I can’t imagine yelling at you, but I’m worried about whatever it is you have to tell me.”

  He took her hand and led her into the living room. He set the picture his father had drawn on the coffee table and sank down to the couch, bringing Talia down beside him. “Why was tonight so shitty?”

  She fidgeted with the seam of her jeans. “I’m afraid to tell you.”

  “Jesus, Talia. That is not what a guy wants to hear.” He pulled back, having no idea what to expect, because the first thing that came to mind was too ridiculous to give it any credence. What could she be afraid to tell him other than that she’d been with someone else, which wasn’t even a possibility. She was too honest, too good a person to do that. “Are you afraid I’ll be mad?”

  “Hurt,” she said, and the crack in her voice gutted him.

  He crossed his arms, needing the barrier after hearing that. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  She nervously chewed on her lower lip. “When we were shopping today, one of my friends, Aurelia Stark, recognized you from the club.”

  He didn’t recognize the name, and the few women he’d hooked up with over the past couple of years didn’t go to the club. “So?”

  “She said you were a stripper in front of my mom and sisters, and I hadn’t told them that you danced.”

  His gut seized. “You hadn’t told them? All this time? I assumed they knew.”

  She shook her head. “They knew you worked at a bar.”

  “Talia . . . ?” He pushed to his feet and paced.

  She went to him. “I didn’t know how to tell them. I wanted to several times, but Piper kept making jokes, and I didn’t want to have to deal with everyone’s questions or—”

  “I knew this was an issue,” he interrupted. “But I didn’t realize it was that big of an issue.” He dragged a hand through his hair and stared at her. His heart felt like it was folding in on itself, crushing uncomfortably. He loved her so much he ached with it, but he couldn’t be with her if she couldn’t truly accept who he was.

  “It’s not,” she insisted, closing the distance between them. “I told them everything, and Ben, too. And I’ll tell my father tomorrow. I just . . . I’ve never been in this position before, and I don’t care what they think. I love you, Derek, and I love your father. But for whatever reason, telling my family was hard for me.”

  He gritted his teeth against the burning in his gut. “Because you’re ashamed of what I do?”

  “No,” she said harshly. “I’m not. I promise I’m not. I just didn’t know what to say or how to tell them.”

  He glared at her, knowing by the way she was clenching her mouth that she was holding something back. “What else? Just tell me, Talia. Let’s get this over with.”

  Her lower lip trembled again. “At the very beginning, the first time I saw you dance, I was jealous of all the women going crazy over you, and I worried that if Piper knew you danced, she’d go to the bar looking sexy and confident, and . . . Oh my God, this is so bad. I’m such a loser.”

  She sat on the couch and lowered her face to her hands. She looked up with damp eyes. “I know my faults. I know I’m not one of those girls who dresses sexy and exudes that kind of confidence. I will never be that type of person, and I know how much of a turn-on it is for guys to see those girls.”

  His heart was breaking, slicing right down the middle. He knew how badly she’d been hurt, and it killed him that those thoughts even went through her mind. He sat on the coffee table in front of her, and when she looked at him, the vulnerability in her eyes cut him even deeper. “And you didn’t trust me enough, or know me well enough yet, to realize that I have zero interest in those types of women? No offense to your sister. She’s pretty and all, but she’s not you, Talia. No one is. Don’t you know that by now?”

  “Yes! I do. Don’t you see? Not telling them wasn’t about you. It was because of my insecurities at first, and then it became something else altogether. I didn’t care what they thought, which, to be honest, also scared me. This is the first time in my life that I have ever—ever—put aside what anyone else might think for what I want. And I know I hurt you, and I know how terrible it looks that I didn’t tell them.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “Trust me, I definitely know how bad this looks. But it’s not because I’m ashamed of you or what you do. You’re the most admirable person I know.”

  “But that doesn’t tell me why you didn’t tell them after you knew me well enough to realize that I’d never hurt you and I’d never be interested in that kind of woman. Unless . . .” You still don’t?

  “I know,” she said sadly. “I’m not sure I understand all of it, either, but I can tell you what I do know. When I got past the jealousy, I became protective of us. I didn’t want to have to explain any of it to anyone because I was so happy with you. I didn’t want any negativity, and that’s when I realized that I didn’t care what my family thought, which was scary in and of itself, but it was true. And then I guess it was just stupidity. Or maybe rebellion. I don’t know. I probably should have just stood up and told them, but I didn’t. I just . . .” She shrugged. “That’s why I went to the bar tonight, and why I brought Piper. I wanted to prove to everyone—and probably to myself, too—that nothing could keep me away from you.”

  She wiped at her tears and said, “I never claimed to have much experience with relationships, but I did what I felt was right at the time.”

  He ached for both of them as he took her hand in his. “You know, I worried that my father would be too much for us, but I never gave dancing the same weight in our relationship. I probably should have. Just because it’s not who I am doesn’t mean it’s not who other people see me as. Like who that blonde at the bar thinks I am. I understand that now, Talia. And I guess I thought that since you teach about the impact that societal expectations and assumptions have on people, you had this, you know? I assumed you’d tell your family and be as up front with them as I have been with you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be, babe. That’s my fault. I’ve got a chip on my shoulder the size of an iceberg. If people don’t like who I am or what I do, then that’s on them. Taking care of my father has always come first. It’s always been the two of us, with Maria, of course. But it’s time for me to get a grip on that, too. I want a future with you, and I have to think about how the things I do impact your life, not just my own.”

  “I don’t want you to change anything—”

  “I can’t change things, and I won’t stop doing what I have to do. But that doesn’t mean I should expect you to flaunt what I do for a living. Maybe you did the right thing by waiting—until you trusted me, until your family knew I was worthy of their daughter slash sister.”

  “I’ll never not tell anyone again,” she said quickly. “It’s a weird situation to explain, but I’m okay now. I know I can do it and hold my chin up high, and I want to carry some of that iceberg with you.”

 
Her lips curved up, and the sincerity in her eyes healed the fissures inside him. He rose to his feet, bringing her up with him, and gathered her in his arms. “You want to share my iceberg?”

  “Yes.” She wound her arms around his neck. “But in all fairness, have you ever thought about what it would be like to tell your father, or Maria, that you were dating a woman who took off her clothes in front of strangers?”

  “Do you have a secret second job I should know about?”

  She shook her head. “All kidding aside, I am sorry. I should have told my family. I feel guilty for having kept it from them, but not so much because they need to know what’s going on in my life. You’ve helped me become more comfortable with myself and the decisions I make that might not be what other people expect of me. Mostly I feel guilty because of how not telling them could be misconstrued into embarrassment over what you do. I am so in love with the man you are, I never want anyone to think otherwise. I love your generous heart and your confidence, and . . .” Her cheeks pinked up. “I think I’ve developed a thing for you in a G-string, so . . .”

  “Aw, baby.” He pressed his lips to hers. “How about you give me five minutes to shower off the stench of the bar and I’ll give you your own private show?”

  She took his hand, walking backward toward his bedroom. “I was thinking I could join you in the shower and maybe you can teach me some of your moves.” She turned around and whipped off her sweater as she walked through the bedroom door. She dropped her sweater to the floor, looked over her shoulder as she stepped into the bathroom, and said, “Your turn.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  TALIA AWOKE TO the sound of Derek playing his guitar. She lay on her back listening to him singing in the other room and wondered if his father had woken up agitated or if Derek had had trouble sleeping. It had been a month since she’d told her family about Derek’s dancing. The next morning Derek had gone with her to tell her father, who had looked at Derek with such a serious expression, Talia had thought her father might give him hell. But he had shocked them both and said, My grandfather used to say that you could only know what a person was truly made of when they faced the worst kind of adversity. You not only put yourself out there for the sake of your father, but you’ve learned from a difficult situation, and you’re going to put that knowledge to good use by helping others in a big way. But, son, you’ve just told me that dancing is what you do, not who you are, and I beg to differ. Everything you do is part of who you are, and if I were you, I’d be damned proud of it. You’re accomplishing things not many people could and putting yourself on the line to do so.

  She’d never been prouder to be her father’s daughter than she was right then.

  She closed her eyes, listening to Derek singing “God, Your Mama, and Me” and thinking about their lives. Derek had gotten even closer to her family, and he’d also become good friends with Fletch. Sometimes she and Derek took Jonah to the park to meet Fletch and Molly. If Jonah was having a good day, they all walked Molly together, and if not, they made the best of the time outdoors. Her mind traveled to last night, when she’d been talking to Fletch on the phone and Derek had texted from work, telling her it was a slow night and he wished she were there. Fletch had teased her about being a swoony-in-love girl, which she happily admitted to. She’d gone to see Derek at the bar a few times since the night she’d run into Dina. Each time had taken a little less courage. Her palms no longer sweat and her pulse no longer raced at the idea of watching him dance. She and Derek had decided not to play into Dina’s hands and had ignored her threat. There was power in knowing who they were as a couple, and Talia reveled in the beauty of them each and every day. These days, when she went to see Derek at work, whether he was dancing or bartending, once she caught sight of him, her love for him obliterated everything other than the reason she was there—to support her man.

  She rolled onto her side and found one of Derek’s leather journals on his pillow. A single red rose and a handwritten note were tucked beneath the leather strap that was wound around it. She glanced at the doorway, her insides tingling at his romantic gesture. She read his loopy script.

  For you, sweet girl.

  She sat up with the journal in her lap and sniffed the rose, wondering what he was up to. She opened to the first page, which was filled with hearts surrounding the words Loving Talia. The heart dotting the i in her name was pink, the only color on the page.

  She turned the page, surprised to find another note.

  Tallie girl,

  I know you asked me to keep our sexy times out of the journals, but this one is just for us, not for public consumption. More specifically, it’s just for you, so you have something to look back on when our lives get crazy and caring for my father gets overwhelming. In those times, I hope you’ll turn these pages and remember we’re worth celebrating . . .

  —Derek

  A lump formed in Talia’s throat as she turned the page. That lump was pushed aside by a soft laugh at a drawing of their legs tangled together, the rest of their bodies cut off by the edge of the paper. The caption read, No matter what happens, at the end of the day we’ll always come together.

  Her insides fluttered as she turned the page. “Oh my God,” she whispered to the empty room. The picture showed Derek lying above her on the bed, drawn from the waist up, pinning her hands to the mattress above her head, his long hair blocking their faces. The caption read, No matter how busy our lives get, we’ll always fit our workouts in.

  Her pulse quickened as she looked over the next few drawings. The first showed only their intertwined hands coming down from the top of the page. His father’s bracelets puddled at his wrist, and his mother’s ring was sparkling yellow. The next drawing showed them making love in the hot tub, and on the next page there was a picture of Derek standing by the bed, drawn from the back, naked, with Talia kneeling before him, her face hidden by his body. The caption read We help each other through the hard times.

  She flipped the page and felt her cheeks burning at a drawing of them making love against the wall at the ski resort with the caption, We’ll never tire of finding new comfort zones . . .

  She pressed the journal to her chest and breathed deeply, as memories of that delicious night came rushing back, and love for her man swelled inside her. She lowered the journal and turned another page, revealing a picture of them sleeping, his body cocooning hers. Above the picture he’d written, I will always protect you.

  A happy sigh slipped from her lips.

  The next picture showed her sitting on the ceramic bench in the shower, water raining down over her. Derek knelt before her, hands on her thighs, a wicked grin on his face. The caption read, We’ll never go hungry and always eat organic . . .

  Her sex twitched at the suggestion. “Holy cow,” she whispered.

  She turned the page and found a picture of Derek pacing beside the bed while she slept, worry riddling his brow. She had on a pink tank top like the one she wore now. In a thought bubble above his head was a picture of a key. She quickly turned the page. In the next picture he was leaning against the doorframe with the same furrowed brow, wearing a pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt, his dazzling blue eyes beckoning her. In a thought bubble above his head was a picture of him and Talia carrying suitcases into his house.

  Oh my God.

  She felt his presence and glanced at the door. Her heart leapt at the sight of Derek leaning against the doorframe, wearing the same clothes as in the picture, the same furrowed expression. It was such a vulnerable, adorable look, it took a moment for her to reconcile it with the virile man before her.

  “Hey, baby.” He pushed from the wall and strode toward her.

  “Hi,” she said breathlessly as he crawled onto the bed.

  He looked nervous, and her stomach tumbled. She wanted to say so much—I love the drawings. I love you. Why do you look nervous?—but she was afraid if she tried to speak she might choke.

  “I’ve been up for a while.” He tucked
her hair behind her ear, and she caught a whiff of his cologne. “I’ve been thinking . . .”

  She held her breath.

  “You stay here every night, and have been for weeks. I don’t want to have to call you to meet me after work, or worry about whether you have enough clothes here. I love you. My dad loves you. Maria loves you . . .” He took her hand in his and said, “Tallie, I want you with me every night without question, in the mornings, weekends, whenever we can be together. I don’t want to waste a minute of our lives waiting for signs or social acceptances. I want you to move in with me, with us.” He opened his hand, dropping a key into her palm, and curled her fingers around it. “I know it’s a strange thing to ask, moving in with me and my father, and I won’t blame you if you say no. You can think about it, but if nothing else, please take the key—”

  Her tears sprang free, and she threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, and I love your dad. I want to be with you more than anything, and your father is part of your life, and he’s become part of mine. That’s a good thing, not a strange thing.”

  “Even if he calls you Eva? Or says you don’t belong here?”

  There had been a few times when Jonah thought she was a stranger and it had taken some time to calm him down, but they’d worked through it together. The three of them.

  “Eva is a compliment, and . . .” She patted the journal. “When he says I don’t belong here, I’ll refer to this handy-dandy love guide. It’ll be just another hard time to work through.”

  “God, I love you, baby. So, is that a yes?”

  “That’s a yes. A definite yes.”

  “Good, because if you said no, then I couldn’t do this.” He stepped from the bed and drew her up beside him. Then he dropped to one knee, stealing the breath from her lungs.

  A wave of love swept through her so hard, she reached for his shoulder to stabilize herself.

  He took her hand, gazing up at her like she was all he ever wanted, and said, “Tallie girl, you are my other half, my better half, my beloved, and I want to spend the rest of our lives exploring new comfort zones and sharing private dances.”