by Sarah Hegger
“What?” Thomas peered at her father.
She was too much of a coward to look at Thomas. “That’s my father.”
Carter Desjardins unfolded his tall, lean form from the sedan and raised his hand in greeting. Tiffany waved back.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Looking for me.” Reality pressed against her chest, and Tiffany barely got the words out. She opened the truck and slid to the ground like there were lead weights attached to her ankles.
Her father held out his arms to her. “Princess.”
“Daddy.” Tiffany did as he knew she would and walked straight into his embrace. The familiar smell of her father surrounded her, leather, fine wool, and spicy aftershave. The smell of comfort, only … not so much anymore.
Daddy pressed his lips to the top of her head. Putting her at arm’s length, he studied her.
Tiffany was suddenly conscious of her cheap jeans and the hair she hadn’t styled that morning, of her face bare of makeup.
“Princess, I know everything.” Her father had a voice like a movie star, too. Rich and smooth, “Trust me,” it said, “trust me to make the bad thing go away.”
“You do?” This had been the thing that sent her running in the first place. Her greatest fear came true, right here and right now and—nothing. No guilt, no fear, just nothing.
“Yes.” He nodded, his hair gray catching the light. “And you are a very silly girl to think you had to lie about your divorce. If you’d come to me, I would have had it all fixed by now.”
Tiffany blinked up at her father. He wore his disappointed face. The familiar knot tightened low in her belly. She hated that face. “I know, Daddy, but I was ashamed that I hadn’t done anything about it. I wanted to sort this out on my own.”
“Princess, why would you do a thing like that? That’s my job.” He smiled and tugged her back into his arms. “Anyway, I’m here now and everything is going to be all right.”
She wanted to tell him that she would get it done herself. She thought she might explain about Luke and her trouble with letting go. Tiffany opened her mouth and shut it again. Daddy wouldn’t understand about Luke. He didn’t hang on to past regrets. Onward and upward, that was how her father rolled.
“I’m Thomas Hunter.”
And Thomas? How could she explain about Thomas when she didn’t even have the answers for herself?
Her father stiffened, and she stepped out of his embrace.
Daddy looked at Thomas with a speculative gleam, the questions building and building in his gaze.
“Thomas helped me find Luke,” she said. “He was also looking for Luke, so we decided to team up. Thomas has been with me the whole time.” And so much, much more. Somehow Thomas had become …
“Carter Desjardins.” Her father’s expression softened marginally, and he took the hand Thomas offered. “You’re a brave man to take on the role of protector to my Princess. She has an unerring ability to get herself into trouble if you don’t watch her.”
Thomas glanced from her father to her. “Actually, I find she takes care of herself, and sometimes me while she’s at it.”
Her father stilled. “Do you?” His voice went silky. Holy shit, she knew that voice, and Tiffany stiffened. “How long have you known Tiffany, exactly?”
That found its mark, and Thomas’s face tightened.
Her father took his silence as agreement and nodded. Point made. He turned back to her. “It would be best if we could get Luke to Chicago for the divorce.”
Wow, her father really did know everything. “I know, he’s already agreed to do it.”
“Then you’re done here,” Daddy said. “And I can take my Princess home.”
Thomas watched her like a hawk, catching every nuance, assessing every word. Daddy’s words sank in. He had come to take her home. That meant her time with Thomas was over. She swung her head to look at him. The question lurked in his beautiful blue eyes. Everything. He silently asked her for everything. His look searched and seared inside her mind. She dropped her head quickly. God, the wanting to be the woman Thomas saw clawed inside her chest.
“All right.” Her father broke into the moment. “Let’s get going.” He held out his hand to Thomas. “Thank you, Mr. Hunter, I am most grateful for the good care you took of my Princess.” Daddy turned to her, brow raised in a silent question. Only it wasn’t a question at all. “Go and pack your bits and pieces, Princess. Call me and I’ll carry your bags.”
And here it was, go with Daddy or stay with Thomas. To go ahead with her engagement or not? These were not the sort of decisions you made standing in a parking lot. A parking lot she stood in because she’d just extricated herself from her last impulsive decision.
“I’ll do it,” Thomas said.
“Great.” Her father beamed at him, sure in the knowledge she would do as he asked. “I’ll wait in the car, Princess.”
She nodded obediently. “Okay.”
She opened the door to her room. It wouldn’t take long to pack her things. Replacement makeup lay scattered on the vanity top. None of it she’d ever use again. She swept it all into the garbage. It lay in the bottom of the bin like downed pins. She liked that lip gloss. That she would use again. Tiffany reached into the bin and pulled it out. And the mascara wasn’t all that bad. Next, she examined the clothes she had left. So much had happened since that day Thomas walked into the studio.
The door opened and she half turned. Thomas blocked out the light as he stepped through and closed the door behind him. Tiffany busied herself folding her clothes.
Silently, he folded the clothes on the bed.
“You don’t have to do that.” Her voice came out in a breathy whisper.
He shrugged. “I know.” He stood right beside her folding her jeans, but he could’ve been a thousand miles away. His face gave her nothing.
“It’s been fun.” What a lame thing to say. Fun. God, it had been so much more than that.
“Fun?” He sneered the word as if it were dirty.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just said it because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.”
He gave her a hard look. He shoved the jeans into the plastic bag so hard his fist came out the other side. “Fun it is, then.”
“What do you want from me?”
“More than ‘thanks, it was fun.’”
“I told you, I didn’t mean it.”
“I don’t care about that.” He came as close to yelling as she’d ever heard him.
She couldn’t breathe, and dropped on the edge of the bed. “What, then?”
“I want to hear you say that this was just sex for you. That you are happy to walk away and go back to Ryan and Daddy and that asshole you work for.”
Tiffany blinked at him. His words brought up a flood of feelings. Outside, her father waited. Waited to take her back to her life. And in this room with her, Thomas. “I need to go home,” she said. “He needs me to go home.” She made a jerky motion with her arm to the car outside. It was getting hard to breathe and the room swam in front of her. “I can’t drop everything, everyone, and disappear with you. As much as I might want to.”
He didn’t speak for so long she risked a look at him. He seemed to be tossing something over in his mind. “Look,” he said. “We haven’t known each other that long.”
“A week,” she said. “Just a little more than that.”
“Right.” He blew out a long breath. “That’s not long at all, but I want you to think about something for me. Can you do that?” Like she would be doing anything but thinking. She nodded. “This thing between us.” He motioned her and him. “I think we both know it’s more than sex. I think it could be a lot more. If you gave it a chance.”
“But you’re not sure.” Tiffany’s heart pounded in her ears. “You can’t say for sure, can you?” And she needed sure, needed to know this wouldn’t turn out to be another Luke. And that meant time away from Thomas. Time to find out who Tiffany was.
“Nothing is for sure,” he said. “But what we have feels good. More than good. It feels right. Not just the sex, but all of it. You could give us a chance.”
“My father needs me. I can’t leave him like this.” Splinters of glass pressed against her lungs, tearing into her. “He’s always needed me. My mom died and—”
“Nobody’s asking you to leave your father. But I am asking you to think about what you want. What do you need, babe? Not your father and certainly not that pompous prick you were almost engaged to. Not even me, but you, Tiffany. What do you want?”
Him, she needed him, but she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. It wouldn’t be fair to him, because more than that, she needed her. All the disparate parts of her fighting it out for space were exhausting. Somewhere between Wild Tiffany, Daddy’s Tiffany, and the woman Thomas saw was the real Tiffany.
His stare bored into her, stripping her right down to basics, and she couldn’t lie. “I need some time,” she said. “I need some time to sort this out in my head.”
He dropped his head forward, shielding his face from her. “Fuck.”
“Please, Thomas.” What was she asking for exactly here? Don’t give up on me? Don’t walk away? More time? All of that and more. “I know this is not just sex. I know things are great between us, but this has all happened so fast. Go back to your family. They’re waiting for you. Let me have some time.”
“Okay.” His stormy glare tore right through her. His jaw worked as he clenched it together. “Take your time, but do me a favor. While you’re thinking about us, and what we have, think about yourself and what you want. Find out what you want to do about that incredible brain of yours. Think about what makes you happy, babe. And don’t get married before you know. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Thomas sat in his truck as the Mercedes taillights disappeared around the corner. Even now, he kept hoping the brake lights would suddenly light up, the door would open, and she would come back. Fuck, what a stupid shit. She was a Gold Coast princess and her daddy, the king, had swept in to take her back to their palace.
It had been pitifully easy to forget, lulled by funny, sweet, and so sexy it made his gut clench Tiffany. It all happened so fast. It didn’t make any sense. How could he be sitting there wanting to cry like a baby over a woman he barely knew?
But he did know her, his gut argued. He knew the things about her that mattered. He understood her in a way that her dickhead of an almost fiancé never would. Or her father.
Carter Desjardins had waited only long enough for Tiffany to finish packing, and reluctantly agreed to a last meal before he hustled Tiffany into his car. Luke had arrived with the survey results, and in time to get into a joint sneer-off with Tiffany’s father.
Thomas thumbed through the small picture book on his lap. Luke had found an old copy and given it to him. The thing made his hair stand on end. He pictured Tiffany sitting beside him on the way back from the Grand Canyon, the utter hopelessness on her face. Princess Pearly Perfect choked her like a toxic skin her father kept shoving on her. Inside it, Tiffany shriveled and died. But not with him. She had come out of her princess shell, so fast his head had spun.
She made him feel things he’d never been aware of. For the first time ever, he wanted to be there for someone. Not drift in and out of their life. Watch them grow, watch them live their potential. Know that this incredible woman felt the same way about him. He wanted to share their lives together. None of this made any fucking sense. He scraped his fingers across his scalp.
She needed time and he’d agreed to give it to her. What the fuck had he done that for?
Time to go home, but he made no attempt to get the truck started. Beside him on the passenger seat nestled the reason he’d come here. Luke had finally handed over the survey results. One tiny little thumb drive that had so much power over his life. He’d tracked Tiffany down to find Luke. All he’d wanted was this little piece of hardware and to get on with building his company. There’d been no thought in his head other than sort this out, spend some time in Willow Park and then jump on the next plane back to Africa. Then he’d walked into that studio. She’d flipped her mane of dark hair and turned those eyes on him, and it was like what survey?
The road trip had settled her deep into his being. He didn’t want to be free-as-a-bird, I’m-outta-here Thomas anymore. He had the chance here for something special, someone special. The sort of girl a man showed up for and stayed.
The smell of her perfume lingered in his truck, making him want to bury his face in the scent and pull it deep inside him. His partners were thrilled. He’d texted them the good news as soon as Luke had handed it over. He’d already uploaded the survey results and emailed them to Lusaka. They still had a good chance of getting those mineral rights they were after. Everything sorted. He still wanted to fucking bawl.
He picked up his iPhone and thumbed through the contacts. Where the fuck was Yoda when you needed him? A name caught his eye and he hit Dial. Not Yoda, but the next best thing.
“Thomas?” said a sleepy voice. “How the hell are you? You coming home soon?”
“Yes.” Maybe this was a stupid idea.
“So, what’s up?” his brother asked.
He dragged in a breath. Josh was cool. His older brother, Richard, was all ruthless logic and linear thinking. Josh, on the other hand, got most shit and didn’t judge the shit he didn’t.
“How’s Holly?” He played for time.
“She’s good, man.” Thomas could hear the smile in Josh’s voice. “She still won’t marry me, but I’ll get her in the end.”
Thomas chuckled. He had no doubt Holly would be wearing white and marching down the aisle in the near future. The thought of Holly gave him the kick in the ass he needed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Is this like the time you asked me if oral sex was talking dirty?”
A smile creaked across his face. Josh would never let him live that one down. Josh had teased. Richard had gotten a book out and explained in relentless detail. So much more detail than a twelve-year-old kid ever wanted. Which was why he hadn’t called Richard on this one. “Kind of.” He laughed. “How did you know, Josh? About Holly, I mean. How did you know?”
Josh went silent for a minute. “You’ve met someone?”
“Could you answer the fucking question?”
“I knew when I was a kid, but I was just too stupid to realize it,” Josh said. Well, that was about as helpful as a mustard enema. “But this time, when Holly came back into my life …” Josh sighed. “This is going to sound totally lame, but I knew within seconds.”
“Just like that?”
“What more do you want?”
Some of the load lifted off Thomas’s chest. “What if it makes no sense?”
“Are you kidding me?” Josh laughed. “Have you met Holly? And her sisters? How much sense did that make?”
“Right.” Josh had a point. Thomas liked Holly a lot, but he was relieved she wasn’t his bundle of feistiness to deal with. Her sisters plain creeped him out. Except Grace, she was okay, but the twins? Thomas’s nape prickled just thinking about the Partridge twins.
“Who is she?” Josh asked.
“Someone I just met.” A cleaning lady pushed a cart down the corridor, stopping in front of Tiffany’s room to use the skeleton key. “She’s totally wrong for me.”
“Why?”
“She’s all like girly and Legally Blonde and I’m—” He shrugged. “I’m me.”
“Is she hot?”
“Smoking.”
The cleaner got the door open and disappeared inside. In the room cleaning away any traces of Tiffany.
“Does she make you smile?”
“All the time. Except for now, because I watched her drive out of my life with her father.”
A muted voice came from Josh’s end. It made him smile despite the ache in his gut. Holly. Demanding to know the
whos, whys, and whats of the call. Josh replied with something smooth that shut her up. Damn, but his brother had a way with women. What a pity it didn’t run in the genes.
“What about your job? The traveling?” Josh came back on the line.
“It’s geography.” As he said it, he got how true that was. “I can work anywhere I want to. Once my company is established, I could even stay in Willow Park and run that end of the business.”
“Would that make you happy?”
“It would if it meant I could have her.” And they could travel. He’d like to take Tiffany and see all the places he’d been through her eyes. God, he’d give his soul to see the pink glow of an African sunrise kiss Tiffany awake.
“You know what I think?” Josh took a breath. “I think you’re talking to the wrong person.”
“What if she says no?” What sort of chickenshit lightweight even asked that question? It was like being thirteen again and asking Tyler Lewis to ask his sister if her friend, Sydney, would say yes if he asked her to Homecoming. Fucking pitiful, and Thomas braced for all-out scorn.
Josh must be mellowing because he said, “Would that be worse than never knowing if she might have said yes?”
Fuck it. He should have known Josh would say something like that. God, he hated it when his brothers were right. “Don’t tell Mom.”
“Of course I’m telling Mom,” Josh said. “She lives for this shit. Then I’m going to tell Lucy, who will tell Richard. So if you wuss out, you’re going to have a whole hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
“I never wuss out. One word, brother: Ironman.”
“Right,” Josh said with a little edge behind it. It still bit both his brothers on the ass that he’d killed their times. “But be sure, man. Be sure this girl is for you.”
“I’m sure.”
“So why are you sitting there instead of going after her?”
The sigh came right up from his boots and made static over the line. “I agreed to give her time.”
“Then give her time,” Josh said. “Come home, kiss the babies, and give your lady time. You know that thing about if you love something, set it free.”