by Deborah Camp
“We’ll spend Thanksgiving here and Christmas in Tulsa.”
“You can go to Tulsa for Thanksgiving. In fact, Gonzo thinks you should, especially after that letter arrived from the stalker yesterday. You’ll be safer in Tulsa.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone on Thanksgiving.”
He gave her a “get real” look.
“Shake on it, Levi. I’m not kidding. This is how it works with couples. They compromise. They find a middle ground. I’m going to be here with you for Thanksgiving and then I’ll go back to Tulsa. You will join me there the week of Christmas, if not before. Now, shake my hand, if you know what’s good for you.”
He regarded her for a few more moments before he slowly, warily grasped her hand. “Deal,” he growled, then pulled her around the desk and up against him. His mouth sealed on hers and his tongue swept across her lips. “I’m so sorry for fucking up your life.”
She frowned. “You haven’t.”
“Yes, I have. If I hadn’t wanted you, seduced you, you wouldn’t almost have been killed by a psychopath, you wouldn’t be targeted by a psycho stalker, and you’d be in Tulsa with the people you love.”
“I don’t even want to think about my life without you in it. And, by the way, if I’m here for Thanksgiving, I will be with a person I love.” She actually felt his whole body tense. “That bothers you?”
“No.” He didn’t sound certain.
She closed her eyes on a weary sigh. Lord, the man could be a trial! “Of course, I’m speaking of Melvin, my security guard,” she said, giving him an out.
He tensed even more and then she felt the rumble of laughter in his chest.
“Very funny.” He grinned at her, a full-out, dazzling grin that made him look younger – almost boyish. She realized that what she was witnessing was his utter, unadulterated relief.
“Yeah, well, I felt how uncomfortable you are to be loved by me, so I took pity on you.”
The pleasure drained from his face. “You know that’s bullshit. Being loved by you makes me . . . happy.” He scowled at her scoffing laugh. “It does! I just don’t know how to respond. I feel like loving me isn’t something I should encourage.”
Intense aggravation stormed through her and she wrenched away from him. “Levi, will you listen to yourself? Stop it! Just stop it. You asked me to live with you. We sleep together. Eat together. Work together. We’re making a life together here, aren’t we? If we don’t love each other, then what’s the point of it all?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Do you think that if you admit that you love me that you’ll lose something? Do you want to leave the door open a crack so that you can call it quits and not feel so bad about it? Answer me!”
She could tell by the narrowing of his eyes and the fisting of his hands that he didn’t like the order she’d issued, but she was beyond caring. She was in a fit now, her anger pumping through her veins and giving free rein to her tongue and, damn, if it didn’t feel good! She saw no softening in him; just confusion and obstinacy. She heaved a sigh of defeat as her anger dissipated as quickly as it had come upon her. “Forget it. Let’s go home. I’m tired.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but left him standing in the office. No one was in the outer office other than two of Gonzo’s men and they kept a discreet distance from her as she stood at the elevator and waited for Levi. He took his time, making her cool her heels for a few more minutes before coming to stand beside her. He pushed the “down” arrow on the panel and then leaned forward a little to peer at her face. She didn’t acknowledge him. The doors opened and they stepped in, followed by the security detail.
Trudy inched away from Levi, her feelings stinging from being trod on. He just didn’t get it. Didn’t realize that she had his number. She knew he was dragging his heels about meeting her family. And she knew that he loved her. Especially when they made love and it was so tender and beautiful that it left them breathless, speechless, boneless. But she wanted to hear him say it, confess it, declare it, shout it. She wanted it to come naturally to him without any hesitancy or questions.
She couldn’t help but think that it was the final step for him and he wasn’t willing to take it. Not saying “I love you” to her was his escape hatch.
They left the building, her walking ahead; him lagging behind her. In the next elevator, she stared straight ahead and tried not to resent the security guard riding up to the penthouse with them. Levi pressed his hand against the key pad beside the door.
“Hello, Mr. Wolfe,” the woman’s voice said in dulcet tones as the locks on the door clicked open.
Usually, Levi stood back and let Trudy enter first, but he strode in ahead of her and went straight to the bedroom wing. Trudy closed the door, shutting out the security guard. She dropped her purse on the couch, kicked off her heels, and went to the kitchen for a Diet Dr. Pepper and a bag of potato chips.
Sitting at the dining room table, she stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the multi-colored water shooting up from the fountains in Olympic Park. She propped her feet in one of the other chairs as she wrestled with her resentment and disappointment. Bullying and demanding wasn’t any way to elicit a declaration of love from a man, she told herself. Especially a man with as many hang-ups as Leviticus Wolfe!
What had she been thinking? Obviously, she’d been nonplussed by his wriggling out of a Tulsa Thanksgiving and hadn’t been thinking clearly. He had to be in control or he wasn’t happy. No one ever accused him of being a follower. Probably because his whole life had been a series of people trying to assert their will on him.
He wore an invisible suit of armor not by choice, by necessity. Life had taught him to shield himself, protect himself, never be too vulnerable or needy. That loving her scared him wasn’t news to her. She could feel him wrestling with it sometimes after he’d found his release and he was still buried in her, his breath mingling with hers, his heart thudding rapidly, his growls and grunts of satisfaction still hanging in the air. She would feel him tense, feel his breath catch, and then he would pull out of her and away from her, shaken to his core by his total loss of control.
What she didn’t understand was why he couldn’t get past it, why he couldn’t see the wonderful things about loving someone – trusting someone.
Recalling his demand that she promise not to discuss his problems with anyone else, she shifted uncomfortably and crammed more chips into her mouth. Wanting her verbal promise had hurt her more than his inability to tell her he loved her. Because what good was love without trust?
Hearing his footfalls, she stared moodily out the window, refusing to acknowledge him as he strode into the dining room and jogged up the steps to the kitchen. From her peripheral vision, she noted that he’d changed out of his suit for a pair of loose fitting jeans and nothing else. No shirt. No shoes. Plenty of tanned, muscle-hugging skin and inky, swirling hair showing. Damn him. He always fought dirty.
Trudy shoved up from the table and started for the bedroom. She wanted to relax in a warm bath.
“There’s spaghetti,” he said, staring into the refrigerator. “You want spaghetti?”
“No. You go ahead.” She didn’t break stride, just made a clean getaway.
Ten minutes later, she slid down into a tub full of water and fragrant bubbles. God, she loved his tub. She’d miss it when she was in Tulsa. Although she had a pretty great tub there, too. An old claw-footed one. But it wasn’t as roomy as this one. This basin was a small swimming pool. And there was the skylight overhead. A few stars winked at her, but she didn’t feel like winking back.
After soaking for a few minutes, she closed her eyes and her thoughts drifted as bubbles popped all around her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Levi leaning one shoulder against the door frame, watching her, his visage one of deep concentration. She closed her eyes again. He looked too delectable and she wanted to hold on to her blistered feelings for a while longer.
“I think I might be falling in love with you.”
Her breathing stopped for a second, but his words pricked her heart like thorns. He thinks he might be falling in love? He was already there and she knew it. So did he. “Go screw yourself, you egotistical asshole.”
His chuckle was soft and rumbling. “You nailed me, you little witch. You always see through my bullshit.”
She made no more comment. She’d said everything she wanted to say for now. It was his turn. He was quiet for so long that she thought he’d left her, so she chanced a peek through her lashes. He was still there, but he shoved away from the door frame as she watched, tucked his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, and moved closer. She closed her eyes tightly again.
“I’ve shown you how I feel about you. You wouldn’t argue with that. I know you want to hear the words. Saying them to you is difficult for me because it’s like the last safety rope. When I release those words, then I’m in freefall. If you finally realize that I’m too damaged to be repaired or to continue to be around and you leave me, I’ll shatter. And I know that there will be no hope for a recovery.”
“So dramatic,” she murmured, unwilling to accept that explanation. It sounded good, but it also sounded rehearsed.
“Yeah, well, that’s how I feel.”
She swallowed the burning ball of tears that formed in her throat. Maybe he was being sincere, after all. “It’s not the words that you’re avoiding, Levi. It’s the emotions that come with them. Breaking news for you,” she whispered. “You’re not the only one with a heart to shatter. If you decide monogamy isn’t fun and games or you realize that I’m not enough to keep you from sleeping around, then I’m going to break apart, too.” She looked at him and forced strength to her voice. “But I would recover. And so would you. It would take time, and I know I’ll never feel this way about another man. Oh, I’m sure I could love again – in time – but I’ll never feel this deeply, this recklessly about anyone ever again. Loving is a risk for everyone, Levi. You just have to believe it’s worth it. If I’m not worth the risk, then I don’t know what I’m doing here.” She thought she saw a glimmer of moisture in his eyes.
“When you say things like that to me, Tru, you fucking destroy me.” He spun away and left her alone.
She waited another ten minutes before emerging from the tepid bathwater and drying off. Taking her time, she let another fifteen minutes tick by before going into the bedroom. Levi wasn’t there. She was glad. Her mind and heart throbbed with a dull ache and she was tired of mulling over what she’d said and what he’d said, who was right, who was wrong, which one of them was a bigger coward.
She looked at the bedside clock. Even though it was only a few minutes after nine, she slipped into a nightshirt and scooted under the bed sheet. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and let sleep wash over her.
###
Levi had slept in the bed with her at some point that night because the covers were mussed and the imprint of his head was on the pillow. However, when Trudy awoke, he wasn’t there. He wasn’t even in the penthouse.
Wes was in the kitchen and he sent her a quick smile when he spotted her. “Good morning, Trudy. What would you like for breakfast?”
“Coffee and a sledgehammer.”
He raised his pale brows. “In that order? Bad night? Levi was out of here early and he didn’t look like he’d slept much – if at all.”
She nodded, grimacing at the reminder of their unresolved issues. Sitting on one of the stools at the island, she rested her head in her hands. Her gaze fell on a folded notecard with her name scrawled on the front of it in Levi’s almost calligraphic handwriting. The man even had pretty penmanship! She opened it.
Trudy, I decided to leave earlier than planned. I’m flying to L.A. this afternoon for an appearance on Lexi Patterson’s show. Tomorrow I’ll be in Seattle for the two-day conference. I’ll have Darla e-mail you my complete schedule. See you late Sunday night. Call me if you need me.
Your Levi.
Hers? To a point, yes. After all, he thought he might be falling in love with her.
“Coward,” she said under her breath. She’d thought they’d talk over breakfast and get into a better place before he left for his trip. Wadding up the paper, she flung it aside. It hit a cabinet door, bounced off, and landed on the floor near Wes’s feet. He set a mug of steaming coffee laced with half-in-half in front of her.
“Lover’s quarrel?” he asked, bending down to pick up the paper ball.
“You know how it is. You take two steps forward and three steps back. Maybe we need some time apart.” She’d have three whole days to lick her wounds and ready herself for her next run-in with him. “It appears that I’m going to be here for Thanksgiving. I suppose he’s never asked you to prepare any kind of Thanksgiving meal before, has he?”
Wes broke two eggs into a pan of boiling water. “He hasn’t. He doesn’t celebrate holidays.”
“I know, but I do. I’m preparing a turkey breast, cornbread stuffing, and old-fashioned dumplings. Oh, and some candied yams. Maybe asparagus with cheese sauce. Yeasty rolls of some sort. A pumpkin pie and . . . oh, a chess pie! I love those.” She caught Wes’s broadening smile. “What? Too much?”
“How many guests are you feeding?”
She giggled. “Me and Levi.”
“That’s quite a feed for two people.”
“We’ll have leftovers to enjoy.” She shrugged. “And I won’t prepare large batches of anything.”
“You can cook all of that? You’ve made those things before?”
“I have, or helped my mother.” She picked up the morning newspaper and glanced through it while Wes finished cooking.
“If you change your mind . . . you and Levi can come to our place for Thanksgiving.” He set a plate of poached eggs, buttered toast, and sliced strawberries in front of her, then settled his big frame on the stool next to her.
She gave him a sidelong assessment. “You’ve invited him before, haven’t you?”
He nodded. “But he never took us up on it. I don’t know what he does during holidays. I assume nothing.”
“He’s stubborn that way.”
“Like he wants to punish himself.”
“Or not submit himself to others who might ask him why he’s alone on holidays. Why he isn’t with family . . . what’s become of his family.”
Wes drank coffee while she ate breakfast. After a few minutes, he shifted on the stool. “You’ve asked him those questions about Levi’s family?”
She nodded. “Asked . . . and answered.” She felt Wes’s surprise almost as if it were her own. Glancing at him, she saw the evidence of it on his lined face. “Have you asked?”
“Yes, but I haven’t received many answers. I’ve pieced together most of what I know for myself.”
His answer pleased her, made her more fully realize that Levi did trust her – more and more with each passing day. She knew he placed trust in Wes, but obviously not as much as he placed in her, and he’d known Wes far longer.
“This quarrel you’ve had is something that can be repaired, right?” Wes asked. “You’ll work through it.”
“We need to think about what we’re doing here and if this arrangement is right for us.”
“It’s right for him.” Wes’s firm pronouncement pleased her. “I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s on his way to living a normal life and he’s actually happy. I’d hate for that to end for him.” He began clearing the dishes. “I hope he’s good for you, too. I haven’t known you long enough to be certain, but you seem suited for each other.”
“I’m in love with him or I wouldn’t be here. Living with a man who isn’t my husband is something I never thought I’d do.” She rested her throbbing head in her hands. “In fact, if you ask my family, they’d tell you that I’ve often preached that living with a man is beneficial primarily for the man. He gets what he wants – a live-in girlfriend and sex every night – and she gets to wash his dirty drawers and pretend that he really does want to marry her
– soon, someday, when the time’s right. But deep down, she knows that when a man wants to marry a woman, he does it. No ifs, ands, or buts, and screw the timing.”
Wes’s chuckle turned into a grin of admiration. “I’ll have to remember that so that I can give my girls the same sermon.” Glimmers of wisdom flitted through his pale blue eyes. “You have to understand what love is before you can recognize it or realize you’re in it.” He leaned back against the counter, propping his hands on the edge – a big, muscled man in black trousers, a white t-shirt, and a black bibbed apron with white pin stripes. His left bicep sported an eagle with an anchor clutched in its talons and his right one had a tattoo of an American flag. “I was raised with tough love. My father was career navy and my mother was German and tough as boot leather. My wife, Mya, is openly affectionate. That was hard for me to accept. I liked it, but I didn’t know if I should or how to respond to it.” His mouth quirked in a quick smile. “I finally learned to give in to it. But it still doesn’t come natural for me. I’m grateful that she’s a patient woman.”
“Early training is what sticks with us,” Trudy said.
“That’s right, and from what I’ve pieced together, Levi wasn’t raised with tough love. He was raised with no love. So, he has a steep learning curve.”
No love. Was he right? She hadn’t thought of it in those terms. He said he loved his mother and that she loved him in her way. But did he say that because he knew he should have loved her and that she should have loved him? How was he to know about undying, unrestricted love? Was she asking too much of him too quickly?
One thing he did know about was self-preservation. Clinging to the last shield, the final battlement that protected his heart and soul, was his very nature and what he had been taught to do his whole life.
“Trudy?”
She blinked and realized that Wes had said something. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Do you want more coffee?”
“No, thanks.” She slid off the stool and went to the sectional where she’d left her purse last night. Removing her cellphone from it, she checked her messages, seeing one from her sister and one from Quintara. She’d deal with them later. She pressed #1 and waited. The phone rang four times before Levi answered it.