Love Me Tender (Seven Brides, Seven Brothers)

by Calhoune, Belle

  She got up from her chair and turned toward Nick. Bending down she placed her arms around his neck and clung to him. When he heaved a great big sigh she felt the weight of it run straight through her. She ran her hand over the back of his head and whispered words of encouragement and support. It gutted her that he'd been treated so cruelly as a child.

  She untangled herself from Nick well before she was ready to let him go. “You were an extraordinary child, Nick Donahue. And you've turned into an amazing man. I'm so sorry you had to go through those awful things as a child.”

  Moisture clung to Nick's dark lashes, and even though she knew he was trying to be strong, it was obvious how torn up he was inside. “Me too. All these years I was able to stuff those memories down...until this morning when it all came back to me.”

  “Only you can make the decision about having her back in your life. You don't owe her forgiveness,” Layla said. “That's something a person earns.”

  Nick nodded. “You're absolutely right. I love my life as it is, and I'm pretty skeptical that there's a place for her in it.”

  “Pray on it, Nick. You might find your answer there.”

  “I've been praying ever since she walked into my restaurant. Praying for understanding and compassion and healing.”

  “Well, I can't help you heal, but I can probably bring a smile to your face.”

  “After the day I've had, bring it on.”

  Layla clasped Nick's hand in her own and pulled him towards the living room.

  Nick looked around the cottage and let out a low whistle. “Wow. This place looks fantastic. I can hardly recognize it. It went from a musty old cottage into a show stopper.”

  Layla felt her cheeks flushing at his effusive praise. It had been such a long time since anyone had complimented her. Fixing up the cottage was a perfect way to express herself artistically. “Thanks. It's been a labor of love. Aunt Trudy gave me this wonderful canvas to work with,” she said as she looked around her, “and I just had to fill it up with lots of color and beautiful things.” A sigh slipped past her lips. For so long beautiful things had been a mask for her dysfunctional marriage. Every time Grant had abused her, he'd gone out and bought her a shiny necklace or a brand new car. It had all been meaningless to her. She hadn't wanted any of it. Now, the beautiful things in her cottage would enhance her world, not hide her pain.

  “You've done an amazing job,” Nick raved. “I think I better say goodnight, Layla. Even though it always feels like we could talk forever.”

  Layla chuckled. “I know. Not much has changed has it? I remember all those nights on the beach when I missed curfew because we were talking about the constellations or the places we'd like to travel to someday. Aunt Trudy never believed us either. She accused us of messing around on the beach if I remember correctly.” Nick joined in on the laughter.

  It was nice to see his mood lighten, Layla thought. The burden he'd carried around with him all day was powerful. The one he'd carried around with him for most of his life was almost unbearable.

  “Are we good?” He reached out and ran his knuckles across her cheek. “Am I forgiven?”

  “Yes. Completely.” Staring into Nick's espresso colored eyes was almost like falling into the abyss. There was such comfort and strength in their depths. Moment by moment she was falling for this man all over again.

  “I'd love to see you tomorrow.” He reached for her hand and kissed it. It was such an old-fashioned gesture, but one hundred percent Nick. He was still as sweet and genuine as he'd been as an eighteen year old. He was a bit more polished and mature, but his heart was still as wide open as the ocean.

  “Why don't you come for supper over here instead of us going out? I'm been dying to try out the stove and see if it's still in good shape.”

  “Thanks for the invite. I'll be here. Is seven o'clock good? I'll bring dessert.”

  Layla nodded. Nick's eagerness made her smile. “That's perfect. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Nick.”

  She waved to him as he headed down the walkway and towards his car. After heading back inside she closed the door and sagged against it. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. This thing between her and Nick was like a twisted, winding road. And it made her feel more alive than she'd felt in years! Even though she questioned where it would lead, she knew that God had placed Nick in her path just when she'd needed him the most.

  *

  The following night Nick found himself standing at Layla's doorstep fifteen minutes early. It was odd considering he was rarely early for anything. His mother would be shocked, considering the whole family joked him about being late for everything under the sun. He didn't know how to explain the way he was feeling these days. Optimistic. Joyful. It felt as if his heart had opened up after being shut down for most of his adult life. He felt like a blind person who'd been given the give of sight. Everything around him seemed bigger and bolder and more beautiful. The possibilities were endless!

  When Layla opened up the door he handed her an armful of sunflowers. Perhaps she would forgive him for being early if he led with the flowers.

  “I'm early,” he said. The moment the words slipped past his lips he wanted to yank them back in. He sounded like an idiot. Of course he was early. He was fairly certain she knew what time it was.

  The smile on Layla's face was magnetic. “Come on in, Nick. The flowers are gorgeous.” She reached for the flowers and waved him in to the cottage. “I'm going to find a vase and finish up dinner. Come and keep me company.”

  Nick followed behind her as the smell of something divine rose to his nostrils. He sniffed loudly, earning himself a grin from Layla as they entered the kitchen.

  “Care to guess what I'm cooking?” Layla reached up in the cupboard and pulled out a vase. She turned the faucet on and filled the vase up, gently placing the sunflowers in the water. “Perfect,” she said with a sigh as she placed them on the kitchen counter.

  “Smells like marinara sauce...and pasta.” He moved toward the stove and craned his neck in the direction of the saucepan.

  “Hey, that's cheating,” Layla said with a laugh as she tugged him back. “Just close your eyes and smell...taste it with your mind.”

  Nick shut his eyes and let the aroma fill his senses. There was a tangy smell. And the strong scent of garlic in the air. Pasta....he smelled pasta. And another smell...reminiscent of the ocean. Fish.

  “Seafood Fra Diavolo,” he guessed.

  “How did you get it?” Layla squealed.

  He opened his eyes to the sight of Layla standing in front of the stove with one hand on her hip, the other hand stirring her sauce.

  Nick threw his hands in the air. “Hey! Why are you so surprised? I own a restaurant. I'm a connoisseur of good food.”

  Layla tilted her head to the side and stared him down. “Really?”

  “Yes. Of course.” He covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh at Layla's challenging stare. “I did accidentally see some shrimp and scallops in the saucepan along with marinara sauce. Along with this cookbook opened to the section for seafood.” Nick patted the cookbook on the counter. He couldn't contain his laughter any longer.

  “Why you....cheater!” Layla said as she shook a spoon in his direction. Nick began to laugh even harder as the sauce spewed everywhere. Layla placed the spoon on the stove and turned off the burner.

  Layla looked down at her spattered top. “Well, I make an elegant dinner companion, don't I?”

  Nick moved towards her, reaching her in a few easy strides. “It would take more than a little marinara sauce to ruin your appeal. You, Layla Delgado, are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on.”

  “You need glasses, Nick Donahue.”

  “I have twenty-twenty vision. And don't knock yourself, Layla. You're stunning.”

  She ducked her head down, avoiding eye contact. “I didn't mean to be ungracious. That just slipped out.” She fiddled with her fingers. “I'm not used to hearing that. It's been a
long time since anyone told me that.”

  Nick frowned. Her husband must have been some kind of blind fool. “What about your husband? Didn't he ever—”

  “No.” Layla cut him off. “When we first got together he was incredibly sweet. Romantic. And then it all turned on a dime. So thank you for reminding me that I'm worth noticing.”

  Nick had to rein himself in. His lips were itching to offer up all sorts of compliments to Layla. He could write a sonnet about her beauty. And what was on the inside was just as glorious. She had a generosity of spirit that knew no bounds. He didn't want to scare her away though by being overzealous.

  “Dinner is ready, Nick. So why don't you go wash up at the sink and sit down.”

  Nick couldn't think of the last time he'd been treated to such a sumptuous meal. The setting was intimate as they dined over Seafood Fra diavolo, garlic bread and salad. For dessert, she'd made apple tarts that rivaled the ones his mother made at Sweet Treats.

  Since the cottage didn't yet have a dishwasher, Nick joined in to help Layla wash all the dishes by hand.

  “I can do all this later,” Layla protested. “You're my guest.”

  “A guest who wants to help with the dishes. Come on,” he'd said as she filled up the sink with sudsy water. “It'll be fun for me. I haven't washed a dish in years.”

  Layla reached in the sink and flicked a bunch of suds at him. “That's for not washing a dish in years.”

  “Let's not start a suds war. Growing up I was a champion at that. You'll be begging for mercy,” Nick warned as he joined her at the sink. “You wash, I'll dry.”

  They stood side by side, their arms touching for the duration it took to get all the dishes washed and dried. They talked about everything under the sun. Nick told her about Blue and Sarah's relationship. He explained about their canceled wedding four years ago and how they'd reunited upon Blue's return to Breeze Point in late spring. She asked a lot of questions about Ryder and Tess, as well as Gabrielle and Remy, so he'd ended telling her all about their courtships. Layla hung on every word, as if she was mesmerized by the details. Every now and again she would stop him and pepper him with questions. He couldn't help but stare every time her big hazel eyes went wide. Or when she let out a contented sigh as his brothers' happily ever afters were revealed.

  In turn, she told him a little more about her life as a ballerina. She'd been the toast of the Paris ballet world for a few seasons before returning to the states with her then husband. As an Expat she'd had the time of her life living in the Marais district, exploring the wonders of the Louvre and eating her way through every boulangerie and patisserie in the city. Although she hadn't been affiliated with the ballet world for several years, she'd continued to study ballet with a retired ballerina in Seattle. And she'd told him the name she'd chosen for her dance studio.

  “I'm calling it Just Dance. It pretty much says it all, doesn't it?”

  “I love it,” Nick said with an approving nod of his head. “It's perfect.”

  “Me too. By the way, I called one of the realtors you recommended. We're going to be looking at some places tomorrow. Thanks for the help...and for the dishes too.”

  “It was my pleasure after that meal you just served up. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

  “Paris. I took some cooking classes at the Cordon Bleu and ended up really enjoying it.” She took out two goblets and placed them on the table. She pulled a bottle of wine from a rack and opened it, swiftly filling each of their glasses.

  Layla picked up a goblet and handed it to him. When she picked up hers she held it high in the air. “To new beginnings.”

  Nick raised his glass and clinked it with Layla's goblet. “To new beginnings. And endless possibilities.”

  As they toasted the future, Nick felt a chill pass through him. All of his emotions were riding right on the surface. He didn't consider himself a sentimental man, but Layla seemed to bring it out in him. A part of him still felt like that hopeful eighteen year old with stars in his eyes. He was now dreaming of his and her bathrooms, a nursery painted in a neutral color and endless laughter with this gorgeous, soulful woman. Ever since college he'd been focused on laying a foundation for the future. A future filled with his own restaurant, business accolades and validation for his dyslexia. He'd always yearned to show the world he hadn't been beaten. Now, all of sudden there was only one thing he needed to make his future bright. Layla. She was his happy ending.

  “The truth shines brighter than a hundred rubies.”

  Aunt Trudy

  Chapter Nine

  Nick and Layla took their wine glasses and headed towards the living room to unwind after dinner. They sat down next each other on her brand new couch. Layla reached over to the side table and took out her ipod. She hooked it up to her speakers and pressed a button. All of sudden dance music filled the air. Layla began bopping her head and shoulders to the rhythm. She stood up and spun around the living room, executing a perfect pirouette. Nick's eyes were full of admiration as he gazed at her. She was feeling flirty and playful. Nick was bringing back a more carefree side of her personality. She wasn't hiding in the shadows anymore. Life was for living.

  She held out her hand towards Nick. “Come on, Donahue. Dance with me.”

  “Sorry, I don't dance.” She tugged at his arm, but he wasn't budging an inch. He had a mutinous look on his face.

  “You used to dance.”

  “I've gotten rusty.”

  She grinned at him. “I'll teach you. It won't be painful. I promise.”

  Nick stroked his jaw with his two fingers. “I don't want to look like a goofball.”

  “Too late,” she said, shooting him an over-sized smile. “You already do.”

  “Oh, you're gonna pay for that,” Nick growled as he reached out to grab her arm. With the grace of a feline, Layla evaded his attempt to grab her. Layla screamed as Nick playfully lunged for her. She stumbled on to the loveseat. Nick stopped short and then tripped over her legs, landing stretched out on top of her. Her laughter stopped as she felt the weight of him on top of her. Nick's laughter sounded in her ears as panic began to build up inside her. She tried taking a breath but no air filled her lungs. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

  Finally, she was able to spit it out. “G-Get up Nick. Please.” It felt as if she was suffocating.

  Dear Lord. Please help me. I can't breathe.

  The panic had come out of nowhere, and it was choking her.

  “Please! Get off me!” Her words came out like a grunt.

  She raised her hand to her throat. Fear shot straight through her like a bullet.

  Nick, clearly seeing her reaction, jumped up from the love seat. “What's wrong? Did I do something?”

  She had her hand over her mouth. Adrenaline was racing through her body like wildfire. For a moment there it had felt like she couldn't breathe.

  “What just happened here?” Nick raked his hand through his thick head of hair. “We were having fun, joking around. You tripped. I tripped. I got up as fast as I could.” His brows were furrowed. Little crinkles appeared beside his mouth. “You didn't think I was going to....hurt you? Did you?”

  “It's nothing. I'm fine. I overreacted.” Her chest was heaving up and down with anxiety. She hoped Nick hadn't noticed. She smoothed her ruffled hair back into place. She began taking slow, calming breaths. Just breathe, she reminded herself. Don't fall apart!

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “No. You're not fine. And you're not the type of woman who overreacts to things. What happened?”

  She let out a cry that sounded to her own ears like a wounded bird. “Please. Stop.” She held up her hand. “Nick, I can't.”

  “You can tell me, Layla,” he said in a gentle voice. “Trust me. Please. You're safe with me.”

  She covered her face with her hands. For so long now she'd buried her secret under layers of subterfuge. If there was a bruise on her wrist, she'd make up some excuse about fall
ing at the gym. If she had a black eye, she'd stay in the house for a week and worn sunglasses for her trips to the market.

  And if anyone suspected or got too close to the truth, she'd cut them out of her life. Out of fear. Absolute, bone chilling fear. Fear of exposure. Fear of being punished by her husband. Fear of Grant's rage taking over everything in her world. And shame. It had filled up her insides and swallowed everything good she'd ever believed about herself.

  She was so tired of hiding the ugliness she'd endured. She was tired of lying and covering up the abuse. Tired of having no friends because having friends threatened Grant. And a threatened Grant was an ugly, out of control bully. She was exhausted from years of working so hard to please a man who could never be pleased. And she was sick about the fact that she'd let her dreams dry up because of his insecurities. Because of him, she still lived in fear. She still had reactions to things based on the terror he'd inflicted on her.

  Right here, right now she had a choice. She could either continue down the path Grant had forged for her or she could break away from the past....or at least try with this one little step.

  “He used to sit on me. My ex-husband, Grant. When he would get upset with me or try to get me to stay in line, he would get on top of me and hold me down. He used to press his hand against my windpipe so I couldn't breathe.” She began shaking at the sheer immensity of what she was confiding to Nick. She'd never been this honest with a single person. Not once.

  “The reason we're not together....the reason I fled Seattle where I lived and traveled all the way to the other side of the country is because he was physically and mentally abusive during our marriage. And even though we've been divorced for more than a year, and I've tried every restraining order in creation....he still poses a threat to me. To my very life.”

  She continued speaking, wanting to get it all out before she lost her nerve. “There were some days I honestly believed would be my last. The fear was so great.”