Love Me Tender (Seven Brides, Seven Brothers)

by Calhoune, Belle

  “You're protecting yourself, which is smart. And that's perfectly understandable considering what you've been through. Please don't think I'm minimizing the torment your ex-husband put you through. I just cringe at the thought of him affecting the way you live your life.” Nick clenched his teeth as the thought of Layla's spineless ex-husband threatened to make his blood boil.

  What kind of man put his hands on a woman? In his world, Grant didn't even qualify as a man. If he was a different kind of man, he'd fly to Seattle and teach him a lesson he'd never forget. But, he knew violence was never the answer.

  “You've shown me more compassion and understanding than I could ever hope for. It speaks for itself. No explanations necessary.”

  “Trust me, I don't want to see you put out there in the media spotlight. Not if it places you in any danger. But I also don't want this wonderful day to turn sour because of something negative. You deserve this, Layla. And so much more. Let's get you back out there. Your fans are waiting.”

  “This is so exciting,” Layla squealed, her exuberance returning. “I never imagined it would be such a hit.”

  “I did. I know from first hand experience how irresistible you are.” Nick brushed a kiss across her lips. He couldn't resist kissing this beautiful woman and reassuring her. There was no way he was going to allow this day to be ruined. Not after Layla had worked so hard to make it a success.

  Grabbing her hand, Nick led her back to the dance studio. Everywhere they looked there were people having a great time. Kids were laughing and smiling as they had their faces painted. A balloon artist was making kids laugh as they contorted balloons into fun, festive shapes. Nick recognized a lot of the people gathered in Layla's studio. They were all part of the fabric of the community he loved so dearly. Now, they were part of Layla's world also. His heart was filled to overflowing at the welcome the residents of Breeze Point had extended to Layla.

  He turned to her, eager to see her reaction to the heartwarming scenes unfolding in her studio. He breathed a sigh of contentment as Layla's face lit up with a big smile. Suddenly, all was right in her world. And he couldn't be happier.

  *

  Layla was still floating on air from the weekend open house event for Just Dance. The townsfolk of Breeze Point had opened their hearts and their wallets to her. She now had a full list of students to teach come September. Nick's whole family had showed up at the event, bringing tears of joy to her eyes. Acceptance. It felt so rewarding to finally be a part of a community.

  Nick had stood by her side all day, showering her with support and unconditional love. It was hard for her to imagine what she'd ever done in this world to deserve a man like Nick Donahue. She hoped she could spend the rest of her life showering him with an equal measure of love and commitment. Although neither one had spoken too in depth about the future, she found herself praying every night about settling down with Nick.

  This morning Nick had shown up at her doorstep with an arm full of pink roses. She smiled at the memory.

  “Pink roses to match your dance studio,” he'd said, a pleased expression on his face.

  “You're full of surprises, Donahue,” she'd said as she raised the floral bouquet to her nose.

  “I wish I could stay, but I've got a few interviews this morning for some staff positions that are vacant.” He'd leaned in for a kiss, leaving her breathless as his arm had snaked around her waist and he'd pulled her tight against his chest. His lips had roamed over hers, staking a claim that she had no intention of disputing. This was her man. Her love. Without him, nothing in her life really made sense. He was the other half. Nothing or no one could ever change that.

  “How are you going to kiss me like that and then just disappear?” she'd called out after him as he headed to his car.

  Nick had turned back towards her, his eyes full of mischief as he said, “I always want to leave you wanting more.”

  She'd thrown her head back and chuckled as he roared away down Harbor Lane. He didn't even have to try as far as she was concerned. If she lived to be a hundred, she would always want more of Nicholas Donahue. She headed into the kitchen and placed the pink roses in a vase. Later on she would bring the bouquet to her dance studio and place them on her desk. It filled her with pride to realize she actually had a place of business and a private office.

  Thank you, Lord, for gifting me so abundantly.

  An insistent rapping sounded on the front door. She felt the corners of her mouth lifting upwards into what promised to be a gigantic smile. Nick! He'd teased her about ditching work today to hang out with her at the beach. Had he come back for another kiss? Or to tell her for the hundredth time that he was going to miss her today? She turned off the kettle on the stove and made her way to the front foyer.

  She yanked the door open. “Miss me already?”

  The smile instantly froze on her lips. Her stomach lurched all the way to the ground. Her knees began to buckle. She reached for the door jamb to steady herself.

  “Aren't you going to invite me in, Layla? After all, I've traveled quite a long distance to find you.” Grant was standing at her doorstep, a smile plastered on his handsome face.

  Somehow. Some way. He'd found her.

  “Grant.” She spit the name out of her mouth as if it were poison. “I don't think you should be here. I have an order of protection against you.” She started to close the door on him, but he wedged his way in the doorway. He forced his way past her in one single move, knocking against her so he could gain admission to the cottage. Her body slammed against the door. Before she knew it he had her by the wrist. He swung her inside and slammed the door. She raced towards the kitchen, only to be grabbed from behind by Grant.

  He whirled her around and put his face close to hers. “That restraining order isn't worth the paper it's written on. Don't get me going like you always do, Layla. That never ends well for you.”

  She slashed her hand through the air. “I'm not doing this anymore with you, Grant. You need help. I'm calling the police.” She reached for the landline phone right as he swatted it to the floor.

  “I came a long way to find you. You're my wife. You belong to me.” His eyes were bulging, a sure sign he was spiraling out of control. There were dark shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn't been sleeping well. There was a frenetic look in his eyes. Whereas before it would have just frightened her, now it made her angry. How dare he come crashing into her new life and try to bully her into submission! She didn't belong to him. Those days were long gone.

  Layla clenched and unclenched her fists at her side. “We've been divorced for over a year now. Separated for a year and a half. I belong to myself. I always have.”

  He wrenched her toward him and bent down so he could whisper in her ear. “You. Are. Mine. You know I don't believe in divorce. What God has brought together, let no man put asunder.”

  She struggled to break free of him as a mighty anger roared through her. “God? Don't you dare talk to me about God! Not after all the unspeakable things you've done to me.”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “Look at you! You finally found your words.” He pushed her down onto the kitchen chair. “Are those your words? Or are you parroting the guy who just left here? Your new boyfriend with the expensive sports car.”

  “H-He's not my boyfriend,” Layla said. At this moment she would say anything to pacify Grant. So far, he'd shown major signs of instability. There was no telling what he might do to Nick if he thought they were an item.

  “Liar!” Grant roared. “Do you have any idea of how I felt seeing the two of you looking all cozy in that newspaper article? Nice touch using your mother's maiden name. Good thing I thought of that.”

  Layla groaned. So that's how he'd found her. She'd been right to protect herself against being photographed by the newspaper. Somehow, her name and photo had been put out there and Grant had come across it online. As obsessive as he was, he'd probably searched her first name and ballet thousands of times.

&nbs
p; “What do you want from me?” she cried out. “I gave you everything I had, but it was never good enough.”

  Grant's eyes widened. “We can start over again, Layla. It will be like it was in the beginning. You just have to be a good girl and stop making trouble for me. I know you turned my parents against me. It had to be you.”

  “I didn't say a thing to your parents. Not once!”

  Her heart was beating a wild rhythm inside her chest. Grant now sounded paranoid and a bit delusional. He was placing all the blame on her for his various troubles. Her mind was racing with ways to get away from him. Should she grab her purse and make a run for it? No, that would never work. There was no way she could outrun Grant.

  She heard the buzzing of her cell phone. Casting a glance at the screen, she instantly recognized Nick's phone number.

  “Is that your lover on the phone?” Grant asked, his voice savage and intense.

  Layla didn't even dignify his accusation with a response. She wasn't going to allow him to sully her beautiful relationship with Nick due to his sick, twisted jealousy.

  She darted a glance at her phone. “I need to answer that. If I don't, he'll suspect something's wrong,” she explained. “We're supposed to meet up for lunch.”

  “Answer it and deal with him. If you say anything or try to give him any clues about my being here, I'll make you pay,” Grant seethed. “And if he comes here, you'll live to regret. You know I'm not bluffing.”

  He leaned over and scooped up her phone from the counter, then shoved it in her hand. “Do it!”

  “Hello, Nick,” she answered on the fourth ring. Her mind was racing with all the possibilities. There was no doubt in her mind that if Nick came to the cottage Grant might do something unspeakable. There was no way of knowing if he'd brought a weapon with him. Perhaps she ought to just find a way out of this situation on her own.

  “Hey, beautiful. Can't stop thinking about you.” Nick's low, husky voice came across the line, infusing her with a fierce determination to make it through this dicey situation.

  “N-nice thoughts I hope,” she answered in a shaky voice. She bit her lip as Grant painfully twisted her wrist. He made a motion with his free hand to wrap up the phone call.

  “I can't make lunch today.”

  “Is everything okay?” She could hear concern radiating in Nick's voice.

  “Everything's fine. I-I would have loved to have lunch at Sweet Treats, but I'm just too busy today.” She was hoping Nick would pick up on her substituting the name of the Donahues' bakery rather than The Cove. He had to know she'd never make a mistake that big.

  Please Nick. Call the police.

  “Sweet Treats for lunch? What are you talking about Layla?” Nick's laugh rumbled over the line. “You must be really tired. Unless of course you want cannolis or cupcakes for lunch.”

  She couldn't even bring herself to join in with his laughter. It felt like something was stuck in her throat. He hadn't picked up on anything! Nick didn't realize something was desperately wrong.

  “Layla? Are you still there?”

  “I'm here,” she answered in a quiet voice. Perhaps she should just scream into the phone. That way Nick would be alerted to the danger Grant presented. But if she did it that way, Grant would also be on the alert, knowing she'd clued Nick in to the fact that something was amiss. She felt incredibly torn. On one hand, she wanted the police to be alerted to the emergency situation in the cottage. On the other hand, she didn't want to alarm Nick so much that he ventured down here to rescue her. She didn't trust Grant not to spiral into unspeakable violence. There was no doubt in her mind about his instability.

  Grant placed his hand around her throat and squeezed. “Wrap it up!” he warned in a low voice.

  “I'll talk to you later.” She spit the words out, knowing in another second or so she wouldn't be able to breathe if Grant squeezed any harder.

  “Layla, I—”

  She disconnected the call. Please, Nick. Think! You know I'd never hang up on you.

  “Nice to hear you sound so sweet and accommodating to your new boyfriend.” Grant dug his nails into her wrist till she cried out with the pain.

  “Stop! You're hurting me!” she shouted.

  “Stop! You're hurting me,” he mimicked, his handsome features twisted in disdain.

  “Go sit down while I figure out how this is going to play out. Maybe we'll fill up the gas tank and just drive cross country.” He was looking at his cell phone and fidgeting with it.

  “Grant. It's not too late to turn things around. I forgive you. God forgives you. There's still a chance to make things right. Please! Stop all this before there's no turning back.”

  “God?” He let out a bitter laugh. “It's a little too late for me to get down on my knees and pray my troubles away. Everything went wrong after you left me, Layla. Did you know I was arrested for driving under the influence? And then I lost my job. And my parents cut me out of their will. They said I was going down the wrong path.”

  She shivered. It sounded like Grant was on a downward spiral. With his abusive nature and his rage issues, it all pointed towards a dangerous situation. She was right in the bull's eye of his anger and blame, as well as his twisted need for vengeance.

  “Maybe your parents are right. Think about it. Grant, remember how we used to pray together? Right now take my hand and pray with me. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”

  She reached for Grant's hand. For a moment he clutched it, and she watched as his expression softened. Then, in an instant, the softness was gone, replaced by a look of unbridled hatred. He jerked his hand away and let out a loud roar. “Don't try to play mind games with me. You're good at that, aren't you? Always putting on the waterworks and making me feel like a bad guy. The truth is, you were never woman enough for a man like me. You weren't obedient. You weren't subservient. And now you're unfaithful. In some countries a man could stone his wife to death for those things. Aren't you lucky I'm so forgiving?”

  Forgiving? She'd done nothing she needed to be forgiven for. Now, in light of all his comments, everything was crystal clear. Her very life was in danger. Grant was barely lucid. He was venting and full of rage. This wasn't going to end well.

  She had to try to get away. Her keys were on the kitchen counter. Her gaze swept over the kitchen. On the stove sat a kettle of hot water she'd just turned off before she opened the door. Although it seemed like an eternity, Grant had only been inside her cottage for ten minutes or so. Would the water still be hot? Hot enough to stun him into submission?

  Without over thinking it, Layla reached for the hot kettle and threw the scalding contents in his face. Hot water spewed all over him. Grant let out a noise that resembled a wild lion's roar. He grabbed his face and howled. Knowing she didn't have a moment to spare, she spun around and grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter. Layla raced to the front door and wrenched it open, stumbling as she made her way over the threshold.

  Dear Lord. Please guide me. Protect me.

  With a wild cry, she pulled the driver's side door open. Her fingers fumbled as she slammed the door shut and revved the engine, just as Grant stumbled outside. She let out a scream as he ran towards her car and reached for the door handle. She put her foot on the gas and floored it down Harbor Lane before turning quickly on to Cove Road. As she pushed the accelerator and watched as the speedometer went higher and higher, she continued to whisper prayers. She'd never driven this fast in her life, yet she knew without a shadow of a doubt, that Grant was coming after her. It wasn't in his nature to give up on something, especially when it was within striking distance.

  Please, Lord. Just let me cross the bridge and get to the police department.

  A quick glance in her rear view mirror showed a dark compact car approximately fifty feet behind her car. Grant! It looked very similar to the car that had been parked in her driveway. And now it
was gaining on her.

  Dear Lord. Watch over me. Save me from this evil.

  As the dark car sped up behind her, she knew instinctively what was going to happen next. She prepared herself for the impact as Grant rammed her car from behind. With all her might she held on to the steering wheel, willing herself not to veer off the road. She sped up, hoping to outrun him or outsmart him by turning off a side road. Changing tactics, he sped up beside her, wildly gesturing to her from his car. He swung his car to the right, intent on running her off the road. She let out a cry as the force of his car caused her own to veer to the right side of the road. She fought to maintain control of the wheel and pulled to the left, smashing against Grant's car. As she felt herself losing control of the car, her last thoughts were of Nick and the beautiful life she'd dreamed of building with him.

  *

  Disappointment flooded him. Layla wasn't meeting him for lunch. She'd sounded a bit odd on the phone. Lunch at Sweet Treats? Maybe it had been a joke. Only she hadn't laughed once, nor had she had her usual enthusiasm in her voice. Sweet Treats? Why in the world would she have said something like that? Something wasn't right. He'd heard the hint of it in Layla's voice. And she'd hung up on him. That wasn't Layla's style.

  And now it was hitting him square between the eyes. Cold, hard fear struck him. Her ex-husband. He'd been there at the cottage with her. That's why she'd sounded so strange. So distant. Grabbing his phone he dialed her cell phone. Three rings. Four rings. The call went to voice mail.

  Nick dialed the number for the Breeze Point Police department. Within seconds he'd alerted the authorities to a potentially dangerous situation involving violation of a restraining order and a violent ex husband. If he was wrong about this, he'd handle it head-on and apologize for raising the alarm.

  Something in his gut told him that he wasn't wrong. Nick ran to his car and headed in the direction of Layla's cottage. As he pushed well past the speed limit on Cove Road he kept his eyes focused on oncoming traffic in the hopes of spotting Layla's car.

  Tense moments passed as Nick navigated his car over the bridge and towards Breezy Beach. All of a sudden, he spotted a car identical to Layla's car speeding towards him in the distance. Nick watched in horror as a dark blue compact car smashed into the side of Layla's car. Her car swerved, hitting the blue car square in the side. The blue car spun out of control and crashed through the guard rail, catapulting down the ravine. Within seconds there was a loud bang, followed by a fiery explosion. Another bang sounded and he watched as Layla's car crashed into the guard rail. He let out a cry of anguish that seemed as if it had been ripped from his soul.