Nobody's Princess

by Sarah Hegger

  “Leave it.” Her heart beat so fast it almost jumped out her chest.

  Luke glowered from Thomas to her and back again. He curled his lip up in disdain and stalked away. “Stay away from me.”

  Thomas sprang, grabbing Luke by the shirt and turning him. His fist shot out and connected.

  Luke’s head snapped back. He staggered a few steps and hit the car parked behind him.

  “No.” Tiffany grabbed the back of Thomas’s shirt. She hung on for dear life as he dragged her forward with him. Fabric ripped and she lost her grip on Thomas.

  Luke stood, braced and ready for Thomas.

  “Stop it,” someone yelled from behind her. Luke’s three friends sprinted across the parking lot. The woman reached Luke first. The two men came on slowly, eyeing Thomas warily.

  “Leave him alone.” The woman latched onto Luke and fussed with his face. “Can’t you just leave him alone?”

  With a growl, Luke jerked his head away from her.

  Scalding glare locked on the men flanking Luke, Thomas breathed hard.

  “Come on.” Tiffany grabbed his arm and tugged on it before he decided to take them all on. Her money was on Thomas, but she still didn’t like the odds. His shirt hung in two strips, ripped nearly in half down his back.

  This time, he allowed her to pull him away. “You need to man up,” he said to Luke.

  “Come on, Thomas. Leave it. For now.”

  “You have responsibilities,” Thomas said. “And a man doesn’t spend his life running away from the people who need him.”

  Luke raised his head and glared at Thomas.

  Tiffany pulled, hauled, and coaxed Thomas back to his SUV. Her nape prickled as any minute she expected Luke or one of his friends to start up again. Her hand shook so badly she fumbled the driver’s door open and shoved Thomas behind the wheel. He let her, because no way would she be able to move this much bulk unless it was willing.

  He started the SUV in silence and peeled out of the parking lot. He didn’t drive fast or say anything, but stared straight ahead in a deafening silence.

  Tiffany risked a peek at him. An angry Thomas was a scary Thomas.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  That about covered it, and Tiffany sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” Tiffany shook her head.

  “You have really shitty taste in men.”

  Tiffany blinked at him. Where the hell had that come from? And ouch! “Are you trying to say this is all my fault?”

  “No.” He cut a glance at her. He took a deep breath and seemed to release a tiny bit of tension. “What I mean is, for a beautiful woman, you sure don’t pick the men who will value you as you deserve.”

  “Ryan is nothing like Luke.” Her hands shook so badly she tucked them under her thighs. “Ryan is kind and considerate, and he never yells at me or tells me what a bad person I am.”

  “No,” Thomas said, his jaw locked tight. “He just tells you how to be all the time, which in my book amounts to the same thing. Only Ryan’s more polite about it.”

  “That’s bullshit.” Her voice shook and she cleared her throat hastily. “That is such bullshit.”

  But it wasn’t bullshit, it cut so close to the truth it hurt more than any of the insults Luke had hurled her way. And now that she had admitted it, what the hell was she going to do?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tiffany’s heart fisted in her chest as they drew into the motel parking lot.

  Dakota sat on a bench outside his room, his packed bag at his feet. The Beats lay around his neck. He’d even washed all the makeup off and, for once, didn’t look like the living dead.

  Oh, man, the poor kid. The hits kept coming for Dakota. How the hell could she tell him Luke didn’t think his kid brother was his problem?

  “Fuck,” Thomas said.

  It was the first word either of them had spoken since the conversation about Ryan. Tiffany pushed her anger to the back of her mind. She had no idea what to tell Dakota. The possibility that Luke would say no had never even occurred to her. And it should have. But, damn, Dakota was vulnerable right now. The two people who should have been looking out for him, Lola and Luke, had skipped out on him. The poor guy was stuck with her and Thomas.

  Dakota stood as Thomas parked the car and they climbed out. He glanced from Thomas to Tiffany and behind them. “Where’s my brother?”

  The hope on his face killed her. Tiffany wanted to lie, to tell him that they hadn’t found Luke.

  “He’s not coming,” Thomas said. He didn’t say it unkindly or with any emotion. Just the truth, plain and unvarnished.

  Dakota frowned at them. “What do you mean?”

  “Thomas means we think it’s better if you stay with me.” Tiffany tried to soften the blow a bit.

  Dakota squinted at her viciously. “You don’t get to say what happens to me. You’re nothing to me. I’m going to my brother. Did you even find him?”

  “We found him, kid.” Thomas stepped in front of Dakota. “And Tiffany is not the one who said you should stay with her.”

  “Who, then?” Dakota paled as the truth occurred to him. The piercings stood out in sharp relief on his narrow face. “You’re talking shit. Luke would never leave me with this bitch.”

  “Don’t,” Thomas said.

  Dakota rounded on her. “What the fuck did you say to him?”

  She had nothing. Tiffany opened and closed her mouth.

  “This is because of you.” Dakota’s face tensed into a vicious pinch. “He saw you and freaked out. He hates you because of what you did to him. And when he needed you, too. He hates you.”

  “You’re angry with the wrong person,” Thomas said.

  “Fuck you.” Dakota clenched his fists.

  “If you say so.” Thomas shrugged. “Come on.” He picked up Dakota’s bag and walked into the room they shared.

  “This is your fault.” Dakota got right in her face and spat the words at her.

  Tiffany closed her eyes. Dakota wasn’t all wrong, and she ached for the kid. Luke did hate her. “Not all my fault,” she said. “But I really am sorry for my part.”

  “Like hell.”

  She wanted to bathe. The residue of Luke’s anger and hatred seemed to settle in a thick layer on her skin. She’d been stupid to think she could walk up to Luke and get his agreement. The scar tissue between them ran way, way too deep. Her crappy little motel room seemed like a safe haven.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Dakota.

  He threw her an evil look and stomped after Thomas.

  Her shoulders dropped as the door slammed. She was sorry. Sorry for all of this and sorry as hell Dakota was going to pay the price. Again. But this was not all her fault. Luke had been right there with her, screwing up their relationship as much as she had. Back in her room, she ran the water for a bath and then sat on her bed. A faded poster of Moab stared back at her.

  “I’m a mess,” she told the poster. Her eyes stung and she blinked back the tears. Seven years, and the Luke wound still smarted as much as it had when it was fresh. She’d been so sure she was past all of that, but one look at Luke and she felt like that girl.

  Dragging her ass into the bathroom, she checked the water. She’d pushed Luke and her marriage to a dusty corner of her mind and ignored it. That didn’t mean it had gone away. A tear trickled down her cheek. Mascara smears covered her fingertips. Cheap, damn mascara making a panda out of her. She didn’t even have a decent makeup remover to take it all off.

  How could two people so in love go so wrong? God, how she’d loved Luke. Luke had been her everything. From the moment he picked her up in a coffee shop, they’d been inseparable. She couldn’t remember the coffee shop, but she remembered Luke. Younger, wearing jeans and an R.E.M. T-shirt, he’d sat opposite her and started talking.

  She stripped out of her shirt and kicked her jeans off. They slithered across the bathroom. She and Luke had been wild and out of contro
l. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other or have enough time together. They’d spend all day together and then stay up half the night talking on the phone. The sex had been explosive. Nothing in her life up until that point had prepared her for the roller coaster of wild and wanton that was her and Luke. Luke had wanted her to move in with him. She’d held out for marriage. Her father had fought her every step of the way, but in the end five hundred people had watched her marry Luke and, nearly to a person, they said what a beautiful couple they were. What a joke.

  She shucked her underwear and stepped into the bath. Warm water soothed the tight bunch of muscles in her back and shoulders. Luke’s mom had died, and right after, his dad was busted for embezzlement. In good times and in bad, that’s what they’d promised each other. Did anybody really know when they said those words how bad the bad times could get? She certainly hadn’t.

  More mascara turned the water gray on her hands as she scrubbed away fresh tears. When the trouble started, the fights got out of hand so fast she’d been reeling in their aftermath. Ugly words hurled at each other. Hurtful actions aimed to wound. Neither of them had been prepared for what happened when all that passion went in the wrong direction. Tonight, Luke’s anger brought it all back. The old hurt and rage on his face, the frustration as she had tried and failed to reach him. Nothing worked—every word they had said ripped the chasm wider and wider. She lay back in the water and tried to find that peaceful place inside. Fail.

  It was over. The thought rippled through her with such force it dragged a small noise out of the back of her throat. Not until right that moment had she really gotten her head around that. The fairy tale wasn’t hers anymore. As long as she was married to Luke, she could still hold on to that tiny fragment of Wild Tiffany. She’d lost it, or thrown it away. Whatever.

  A knock on the door dragged her out of her head. She hauled herself out of the bath and snagged a towel. The bath hadn’t really been working anyway.

  Thomas stood in the doorway. He’d changed back into a T-shirt. Back up! I’m going to try science. It got a weak smile out of her.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  His gaze gently traced her face. “You’ve been crying.” He didn’t wait for her invitation, but crowded her back into her room.

  “How’s Dakota?” She didn’t want to talk about it, especially when she was naked under the towel.

  “He’s okay. He wanted to make a phone call, so I thought I would come and apologize.”

  Tiffany stared at him. “Apologize?”

  “For losing my temper,” he said. “At the bar, with Luke. I know better than that, but he got under my skin.”

  Oh, boy. That makes two of us.

  He moved closer and cupped her chin in one warm palm. His thumb swiped at the moisture on her cheeks and came away smudged. “Then after, I got shitty with you, and I’m sorry. I was pissed at myself for losing my cool. Now I’m thinking I should have hit him again.”

  Her voice came out all wobbly and thin. “It’s not Luke.”

  “No?”

  His gentle tone made her want to cry even more. His big chest was right in front of her, with its stupid T-shirt. She gave in to the temptation and pressed her forehead against it. His arms came around her and tucked her tightly against him. His cheek settled on the top of her head. Safe. Wholly and completely safe. And like the complete girl she was, she burst into tears.

  Thomas didn’t do girl talk or soothing noises, he tightened his arms and held firm. He kept her tucked into him, surrounded her with his strength. It felt wonderful. It felt so wonderful, she cried even harder.

  “I should definitely have hit him again,” he said.

  Some girl was going to get so lucky one day with this man. She lifted her head from his chest. “I’m feeling sorry for myself.”

  He drew back enough to meet her eyes. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I made such a mess of things with Luke, and now I am making an even bigger mess with Ryan. Dakota hates me, and I think I might agree with him.”

  “Well, I like you,” he said.

  “You do?”

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t think I’m horrible?”

  “Hell, no.” And she believed him. “You’ve got about two men too many in your life right now, but I don’t think you’re horrible. You might have the merest hint of an issue with closure, however.”

  “You think?”

  “Just a theory.”

  She chuckled and laid her cheek back against his chest.

  He smelled like soap and warm skin. The beat of his heart pumped steady and sure beneath her ear.

  “You okay?”

  “I am now.” Tiffany let herself relax and just be, right here, right now. Something he’d said bugged her, though, and she lifted her head. “Two men too many?”

  He shrugged. “Three, if you count Dakota.”

  Tiffany counted them off with her fingers against his pectoral muscle. “Ryan, Luke, Dakota and …”

  “Me.”

  Her heart did a crazy nosedive before crashing through her gut. “You?”

  “Come on.” He put her gently away from him. “I’m going to do something stupid if we stand here like this for much longer. Finish your bath and put some clothes on. I’m going to check on Dakota and then we can order a pizza or something.”

  “Two hundred and eighty-five calories per slice,” she said.

  “That so?”

  “If it’s regular crust and just cheese pizza.”

  He made a noise and nodded. “Want to load up on some calories with Dakota and me?”

  “Sure.” She didn’t even have to think about it. “And afterward we can have chocolate.”

  “How many calories?”

  “What type of chocolate?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Apparently Tiffany in a little black dress and a pair of Jimmys could move mountains. The barman gave up Luke’s home address without a fight. Of course, the trip outside to admire the Miura hadn’t hurt either. The crowd swelled around the car world’s Pied Piper rather quickly. It had taken her a good half an hour to get away from the Miura’s fan club. It made a nice send-off.

  She’d left a text for Thomas and Dakota, their door still shut tight. Probably still sleeping after a night of movies and pizza that ran well past midnight. This was her mess to sort out, hers and Luke’s. After she got divorced, she didn’t know how her life would play out anymore. But the weight of the past had gotten too heavy to haul around with her.

  It wasn’t hard to find the house. Sitting halfway up South Mountain, it nestled comfortably amongst others like it in a quiet neighborhood. The modest front only added to the spectacular view from the back. Below her spread the entire Salt Lake Valley, drowsy in the piercing sunlight.

  No time like the present. She wiped her hands on the front of her dress and unfolded from the car. Getting out of an Italian sports car in a short skirt and heels took practice. She’d had plenty of that while she babysat Luke’s baby. It was time to give her back to her rightful owner. Tiffany ran her hand over the gleaming metal of the roof. She sure was a beauty. She let her fingers linger for one more heartbeat. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Straightening her shoulders, she picked her way up the stone walkway to the door. The woman from the bar answered the doorbell. It took her a moment shy of a second to recognize Tiffany. Her face went rigid with displeasure. “What do you want?”

  Tiffany took a deep breath. She needed to stay calm for this. Her battle was with Luke, not this woman. Whoever she was. “Is Luke here?”

  “No.” The woman crossed her arms over her chest.

  Tiffany bet she would have said that whether Luke was home or not. Bitch or not, this woman stood between her and her mission. She’d put money Luke was skulking in the house somewhere.

  The woman moved to block her view of the interior of the house. “He’s not here.”

  “Babe?” />
  The woman started.

  Tiffany’s gaze met hers. Liar, liar. That was Luke.

  “Tell him I have something to show him,” Tiffany said.

  “There is nothing of yours he wants to see.” Man, this woman was tough. Not tough enough, though.

  “I think Luke will disagree with you.” Tiffany stepped aside and revealed the car.

  The woman sucked in a breath. She glowered at Tiffany accusingly. If her face wasn’t so twisted in anger she might have been pretty. Luke had sure chosen differently this time. This woman was blond and tanned, with the sort of figure that said she spent a lot of time outside being healthy. “He told me what you did.”

  “I’m sure he did,” Tiffany said. She had only so much humility in her, and none of it for Nature Girl. “I’ll wait by the car.”

  Thank God, she made it back down the walkway without tripping. Her legs shook so hard she didn’t trust her balance. The Jimmys might have been a mistake.

  “Tiffany?” She hadn’t even made it all the way back to the Miura when Luke’s voice stopped her. “What the hell?”

  “I don’t want to fight.” Holding up her hands, she spun to face him.

  His face was a closed mask, but he didn’t look quite as furious as he had at the bar. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to return something.” The words got caught in her throat and she cleared it rapidly. “Something of yours.”

  He jerked to a stop. Like a junkie jonesing for a fix, his gaze ate up the Miura. He took a step outside and then another one. “Is that her?”

  “Yes.” She curled her fingers into her sweaty palms. The Miura belonged to Luke, not her. “After you left, I had her repaired.”

  Luke frowned and took another few steps toward the car.

  “It took a while to find all the original parts. And, of course, to find someone certified to work on her.” Her mouth kept running, laughing at her half-assed effort to get a grip. “I only got her all fixed about two years ago. She’s barely been driven. Only enough to keep her running smoothly, and as you know, she’s not the easiest car—”