Nobody's Princess

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Nobody's Princess Page 28

by Sarah Hegger


  Ryan slipped his arm around her waist and guided her into a group of people. Most of them she knew, but a few of the faces were strange. Ryan performed the introductions.

  Her face contracted into a polite smile as required. Her mouth opened and closed and made the appropriate responses. This must be one of those out-of-body experiences. Like she sat at the top of the awning and looked down at herself.

  “Princess.” Her father’s voice dragged her back to the present. He leaned forward to kiss her. His gaze drifted over her hair and down, taking in everything. He was too well aware of the interest around them to frown, but his censure rose like a wall between them. “Really, darling, you could have made an effort.”

  “It’s a barbecue,” she said. And she was so tired of playing dress-up.

  He merely lifted one brow. “I taught you better than that,” he said. “Ryan has a surprise planned for you.”

  Tiffany didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”

  Her father shook his head, but gave her left hand a heavy stare.

  Across the lawn, Patti caught her eye and gave her a wink.

  Ah, hell no. She had better be reading this wrong.

  “Tiffany?”

  “Princess?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d moved physically until she looked up and saw her father and Ryan watching her, wearing identical quizzical expressions. Her feet took over and put another step between them and her. “I need to go.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her father took a step nearer. She took two more back. Twenty minutes down the highway. After three weeks of racking her brain, the answer beamed down at her.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Ryan frowned in confusion.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I need to go.”

  “You can’t go.” Ryan glanced between her and the people around them.

  Sensing blood in the water, several conversations stopped and heads turned to them.

  “I can.” And she could. The car her father had sent would be waiting to take her home or wherever she wanted to go. “And I am.”

  Ryan turned to her father. “Carter?”

  Her father closed the distance between them. His smile didn’t move but his expression went glacial. “Don’t be silly, Princess. You’re making a scene and embarrassing Ryan and me. Pull yourself together.”

  She was together, more together than she’d ever been: a little bit princess, a little bit Delilah, a touch of Wild Tiffany, and a large helping of geek. She didn’t have to be one or the other. Didn’t need to carve herself into pie pieces and judge one as suitable and the rest not good enough.

  Ryan glanced from her to her father, his expression clouded. She felt genuinely bad for him. Her father was right. She was making a scene and embarrassing Ryan. “I’ll speak to you later,” she said to Ryan. “There is something I have to do.”

  “Ryan?” Patti appeared beside her son. “What’s going on? Where is Tiffany going?”

  “I’m sorry,” Tiffany said to Ryan. She was doing a shitty thing to him. But it was him or her when it came right down to it. “I’ll call you later.”

  The I-90 and then the 94, and twenty minutes later, she’d be there.

  “Tiffany.” Her father’s voice followed her across the lawn. Her heels clacked loudly over the marble of the patio. People made way for her as she hurried past.

  “Tiffany.” Her father chased her into the ornate living room. He caught her arm and brought her to a halt. Tightening his grip, he tugged her through the nearest door. As soon as the library door shut, his urbane expression morphed into fury. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Ryan has it all planned—the ring, the band, everything. You are not leaving.”

  Yup, that’s pretty much what she’d thought. “I’m sorry about that, but you should have spoken to me about this first.”

  “It’s a surprise. He’s going to ask you to marry him,” her father said.

  Tiffany stared at him before she found the right words. “I’m not going to marry Ryan.”

  “Of course you are.” Her father adjusted the cuffs on his shirt with a snap. “You are going to stay here, get your ring, smile prettily, and behave.”

  It wasn’t really his fault. Her father had been getting his way for so many years. It would never occur to him that this had changed, because her father had selective hearing to go along with that selective vision. All her life, he’d been carefully whittling away the bits of her that he didn’t want until she was left a two-dimensional dress-up doll who always felt like she belonged nowhere.

  “Dad,” Tiffany said. “I’m twenty-six. I don’t think anyone needs to tell me how to behave.”

  He reeled back as if she’d hit him. Tiffany’s heart squeezed. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want to hurt anyone.

  “That’s just the problem, Tiffany.” Her father’s mouth tightened into a nasty line. “You don’t think, and when you do, you fuck everything up.” It hurt so much she gasped. Tears stung the back of her eyelids. Her father’s expression went immediately contrite. “Princess.” He took a step toward her. “Now look what you made me say. You made me so angry, I went and said something awful to you.”

  “No.” Tiffany evaded his outstretched hand. “You don’t get a free pass on that one, Daddy. You also don’t get to think for me. Not anymore.”

  For one glorious week she’d been gathering her parts into a whole. And she’d liked that whole Tiffany. Her legs wobbled as she walked toward the door. “I don’t want to fight with you,” she said over her shoulder. “I love you, Dad, but I can’t be your princess anymore.”

  “What does that mean?” Her father’s brows thundered down. “I don’t even understand what that means. I don’t understand any of this.”

  “I’ll explain it all.” Tiffany pulled open the door. Her hands were sweating so badly, the handle almost slipped out of her grip. Now whole Tiffany wanted something, not to complete her picture or fix her together, but to have all she wanted, all she deserved. Thomas Hunter was first on the list. “After I do what I need to do.”

  The problem with being a princess was that they spent a lot of time waiting for their princes. Rapunzel in her tower. Sleeping Beauty behind her forest of thorns. Even Cinderella waited for the prince to come to her.

  Fuck that.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  A man answered Tiffany’s knock.

  Hello! Tall, dark, handsome, linebacker shoulders and filling out a pair of faded jeans like a cover model. Blue, blue eyes registered, beautiful eyes just like Thomas. This must be Josh. She was so nervous she couldn’t hear a word past the roaring in her ears. She stared at his mouth, trying to make sense of what he said.

  “Can I help you?”

  Relief made her head spin. She could handle that question. “Josh?”

  The corner of his severe mouth twitched slightly. “No, I’m Richard. Josh is inside.”

  Oh. My. God. This was not even the hot brother? Mind blown. “I’m Tiffany.” The strap of her overnight bag slipped against her sweaty palm, so she didn’t offer her hand to him. “I’m a friend of Thomas’s.”

  “Ah,” said Richard, in a tone that made her think this was not exactly news to him. The slight tilt around one corner of his mouth widened into a holy hell smile that hit her straight in the male appreciation department of her girl brain. “He’s inside.” He stepped aside to allow her to enter. “Can I take your bag?”

  “Yes. No. I’m not sure.” She had to give him points for not laughing in her face. He merely looked grave, polite, and patient. This one was the doctor. Maybe he was used to crazy people in his work. “What I mean is, I don’t know how long I’m staying.”

  “Yes.” He nodded sagely. “But you’re probably staying long enough to give your arm a rest. Perhaps even long enough to have a glass of water or—dare we hope—a glass of wine.”

  She stared at him. Shit, he was joking. Tiffany broke into an agonizingly high-pitched titter
of laughter. “I’m a little nervous.” Because, at this point, what else was she going to say? She stood in Thomas’s family home making a complete dork of herself. Confessing to nerves could only be an improvement.

  “I would recognize a pair of Jimmys anywhere,” said a second male voice.

  Tiffany turned and forgot to breathe.

  “I’m Josh,” said the Man God. “And you must be Tiffany. Man, are we glad to see you.” She clearly must have tripped into a parallel dimension because Man God grabbed her and engulfed her in a hug that was all muscle and incredible-smelling male.

  “Jesus,” said Richard. “It’s a conditioned response, like Pavlov’s dog.”

  Tiffany blinked away the daze over Josh’s shoulder.

  Richard shook his head and glared at his brother. “Any woman breathing and he flirts.”

  “I’m just friendly,” Josh said, pulling away from her. He kept his hands on her shoulders and surveyed her from head to toe. “He said you were beautiful.”

  “Who?” Blue was such a mundane description for that particular blend of sky and velvet midnight of Josh’s eyes. Any time her brain decided to check back in would be good with her.

  “Thomas.”

  “He did?” Again with the squeak. As far as first impressions went, she’d pretty much blown this one.

  Josh looked at his brother. “Does he know?”

  “Not yet.” Richard grinned.

  “I’ll get the camera,” Josh said. “You take Tiffany to run the gauntlet.”

  “Um … can I just talk to Thomas?” She had totally lost control of the situation.

  Richard shook his head with an apologetic look on his face. “Unfortunately, the whole family is here, and they’d have my guts if I let you go without meeting them.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “You picked a good day to show up.”

  Tiffany didn’t think she could have picked a worse one. She needed to talk to Thomas, alone and quietly. The only thing she knew for sure was what she was doing there. How Thomas would react remained to be seen.

  She was going to barf. Not even in the swimsuit section of her beauty pageant days had she been this nervous. She wanted her book so badly her fingers curled around an invisible pen.

  Richard used the opportunity to guide her through the entrance hall and into a large kitchen. Home. The kitchen breathed home. On one side of a huge central table, a blond woman sat with an infant in her arms. Another woman of about the same age but shorter and with the most outrageous head of hair leaned with her hips against the counter. An older woman sat feeding a toddler. As one they turned to stare at her.

  Run, screamed her brain. One foot moved to get started, but Richard’s hand pressed firmly into the small of her back. “This is Tiffany.”

  All the women perked up and their scrutiny got even keener.

  “Tiffany.” Richard tugged her farther into the room. “This is my mother, Donna.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Over there is Josh’s wife, Holly.”

  “I’m not anyone’s wife,” said Holly.

  Donna threw Holly an evil grin. “Not yet.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Tiffany whispered into the building silence.

  “And that’s Lucy,” Richard said with all the pride of a man unveiling his lifetime’s achievement.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Tiffany whispered for the third time. God, how much lamer was she going to get before this was over?

  “Hey, Tiffany.” Holly smiled at her. “Has Josh seen your shoes yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s going to love you.”

  She had no idea what to say, so she gave a weak sort of smile.

  “And don’t let Donna intimidate you, she does that to all the new women in her son’s lives.” Holly shot a mischievous grin at Donna, who raised her eyebrows serenely.

  “Welcome, Tiffany.” Donna got to her feet. Instead of taking her outstretched hand, Tiffany found herself tugged into a warm embrace of lemon and vanilla. The older woman released her and stepped back, cupping Tiffany’s face in her palms. “I know somebody who is going to be very glad to see you.”

  Tiffany blinked away the tears. “Really?”

  “Really,” Donna said.

  “Tiffany?”

  She froze. Her legs refused to move. Her gaze sought Donna’s again. Reassurance filled the other woman’s eyes. Tiffany looked past her at the blond woman at the table. Lucy gave her a smile and a small wink. Holly managed a wide grin.

  Thomas stood behind her, like a force of nature. Finally, she turned.

  AH! The element of surprise, she read across his chest. A smile started deep inside her and oozed into her chest, over her throat, and onto her mouth. “You’re such a geek.”

  “Hey, Barbie.” He grinned back at her.

  She threw back her head and laughed. This was Thomas. Thomas with his dumb T-shirts and his huge smile. Thomas who bought her books and wanted her to read the naughty parts out loud. Thomas who always saw her and not what he wanted to see. Her Thomas.

  And then his arms were around her and her feet left the ground. Her Jimmy Choos dangled somewhere about halfway between his feet and his knees as he pulled her tight against him.

  For the first time in three weeks, Tiffany breathed. She clung to the solid width of his shoulders and let herself feel happy.

  He tilted his head, his mouth finding hers.

  “Thomas,” she said against the warm, press of his lips. “Your family.”

  “They all know how this is done.” He kissed her and she didn’t care anymore. It all melted away in the taste of warm man and spice. She wrapped her arms around his head and pressed into his kiss.

  “I guess this means she’s staying for dinner,” a man said. It could have been Richard or Josh, she had no idea.

  Tiffany broke the kiss, laughing. Her face went hot, but she kept her gaze on Thomas. “Am I?”

  Thomas’s huge smile curled around the corners of his mouth. “Damn straight, you are. And for a lot longer than that.”

  “I only brought a small bag,” she said.

  “We have stores.” He cupped her face in his big palms. “Josh can even take you to the sort you like.”

  “Okay.”

  He stared at her as if he couldn’t get enough of the sight of her. “Stay forever.”

  “Let’s start with today and see what happens.” It was all so new, she didn’t want to jinx it or rush it and make it all go shitty. What they had was new and shiny and beautiful.

  “Okay,” he said. “But just so you know, I’m going for forever.”

  “Okay.”

  Epilogue

  Tiffany stared out the passenger window as Thomas parked the truck and looked over at her. “You all set?”

  “Yup.” The quadrangle in front of a set of wide stone steps was awash in people. Young people marching about like they knew where they were going and what they were doing there. She swallowed and rubbed her palms on the legs of her jeans.

  “You got your lunch?” Thomas asked.

  She held up her Louis Vuitton mini tote. “Yup.”

  “You know, you could buy something on campus.”

  “I could.” She dredged up a weak smile. “But that would be over five dollars every day, and you know I’m on a budget now.”

  “I know, baby.” He leaned over and took her hand. He gave it a warm squeeze that she felt all the way to her churning tummy. A pretty blond girl laughed and chatted over her shoulder at another pretty blonde. So young and eager and full of life.

  Who was she kidding? She must be mad. “Remind me why I’m doing this.”

  “You know why you’re doing this.” Thomas lifted her limp hand and gave it a kiss. “Want me to walk you to class?”

  Very tempting, but no. She shook her head. “I’m going to do this on my own.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Right.” She blew out a long breath
and reached for the door handle. She stopped and turned back to him. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful,” he said. “Always.”

  God, she loved this man. Tiffany launched herself at him.

  Thomas caught her against his chest, his hand coming up to grip the back of her head.

  The rush of heat took her by surprise every time. Tiffany gave herself a small moment and let the taste and feel of him wash over her. She broke the kiss and brushed her fingers over the pillow of his bottom lip. “Save that thought for later.”

  “You know it.” He gave her the bedroom eyes that shot straight into her pants. “Your place or mine tonight?”

  “Mine,” she said. “I’ll probably have homework.”

  “I’ll bring dinner.”

  “You’re on,” she said. “But no more pizza. I’m heading toward bigger jeans at a scary rate.”

  “Looks good on you.”

  Such a dog. Tiffany rolled her eyes and opened the door.

  “Love you, babe,” he called.

  “Love you, too.” And she stepped out of the truck.

  *

  Thomas watched her walk away. She looked about eighteen in her jeans and T-shirt, her backpack thrown over one shoulder. His chest grew tight. He was so fucking proud of her it hurt.

  Even her stubborn insistence she keep her own place made him want to glow with pride. She wanted her own place. She wanted to experience what it was like to be independent. As much as he wanted her under his roof, tucked in next to him all day, he understood. Tiffany had tackled some major changes in the last year. They spent every night together anyway. That would be enough for now. But he had plans and she knew about them, and she was totally on board. Another of his partners was working out of Zambia while Thomas managed the business side from Chicago. As soon as Tiffany got her degree, they would head that way together. She wanted to focus on those countries that had been receiving assistance from the former Soviet Union.

  After that, who knew? Wherever life took them next, and whatever new adventure was waiting. As long as they went together.

  His gaze tracked the sexy swish of her ass as she climbed the steps. He had no idea how he’d gotten so damn lucky. A group of young dickheads lounged around the base of the steps. And they had their leers on his girl’s ass. He rolled down the window. Time to make his presence felt.

 

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