He touched my cheek tenderly. “Agreed. Tonight it’s just you and me.” He kissed me once, twice, three times before pulling back, shoving his hands through his hair. “I think I’d better go.”
I nodded and opened the door. “By the way, am I still your secretary?” I asked with a sheepish grin.
“No, Tess. I made a promise. And I always keep my promises.” A Cheshire Cat grin cut across his face. “However, I could use a new office manager.”
“What’s the difference?”
“With my small practice, nothing. But as office manager you are entitled to a nice raise,” he said, fishing the keys out of his jacket pocket.
“I don’t want a raise. You already pay me well.”
“Tess, rule number one in business: Never turn down a no-strings-attached raise.” He stepped closer and kissed me again. “Merry Christmas, by the way. I’ll pick you up for Seth’s around noon?”
“Merry Christmas,” I said with a nod.
***
For the first time in a long time it didn’t feel as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders when I woke the next morning, despite the fact that it took me forever to fall asleep. I showered and dressed in my green shirt with the pearl buttons. Booker’d made a comment more than once that he liked the shirt. I added a denim skirt and my mid-calf Fuggs, as Lilah called them. As I waited for Booker, I went through the stack of mail on my counter. Another note from Nikkolynn. She’d been mailing them to me at home since Booker had gotten after her about her noxious emails. They were always addressed to me using my full name and never a return address. The first one was just plain juvenile.
He’s still mine. Don’t forget that, slut. I will win him back.
Short, and to the point. She even signed it “Nikkolynn Gatto”. She’d make a lousy serial killer.
The next one was more imaginative. She’d glued letters from magazines together inside a Christmas card:
Merry Christmas, whore.
That one irritated me, reminding me way too much of Garen. In my anger, I called her and told her if she sent another note like that, I’d show it to Booker. She denied knowing anything about the notes. When I reminded her that she’d signed some of them, she hung up, but that was okay. I felt proud that I’d taken that step.
I shoved the Christmas card aside, refusing to let it bother me. I debated showing it to Booker, then decided when he brought me home I would. Enough was enough, and he was the only one Nikkolynn would listen to.
I set the letters in a stack, tossed the junk mail, and went to brush my teeth. Booker came as I added a Christmas bell pin to my shirt.
“Hello,” he said before taking me in his arms and kissing me. Oh, man, could this guy kiss. “Merry Christmas, again.” He wore a brown sweater and jeans, and he looked so delicious.
“And to you.” I pointed to the counter. “Will you grab my gift for Sofia, please?”
I gathered my coat from the small closet in the bedroom. When I came back out, Booker had the envelope from Nikkolynn in his hand. He held it out to me and I took it. “I knocked this on the floor by accident. No return address,” he noted, averting my eyes.
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. I knew by his tight jaw that the pain of what Nikkolynn had done to him was still fresh. Even though he’d moved on from her, the sense of betrayal he felt over her affair was very much a part of him still. I kissed him soundly. “Never in a million years will I cheat on you.” I ran my hand through his dark brown hair.
“Am I that obvious?” he asked softly.
“My ex wasn’t faithful either. It’s not hard to guess what you’re thinking. The letter’s from Nikkolynn. She’s been sending them here since you told her not to email me anymore.” Anger light up his eyes. “Book, let’s enjoy the day. I’ve been alone for four Christmas’ now. I don’t want this to spoil it.”
“Alright. But I’m going to talk to her later.”
I handed him the letter back. “For evidence. She denied sending them when I called her, even though she’d signed some, though not all. I tossed all but these ones.”
His jaw ticked, but he said nothing more. He shoved it in his pocket, and helped me with my coat. Holding my hand, he led me outside, stopping for me to lock the door. “I can install a full blown, no holds barred security system in here if you’d like.”
“Thanks. I’d like that.” I climbed in the truck and Booker cranked up the heat, knowing without having to ask that I was already freezing.
As we walked up to the door at Seth’s, he chuckled. “Let’s not let on that we’re a couple just yet. Maggie and Lilah have been going crazy trying to get us together.”
“Playing a little cat and mouse game, are we?”
He smiled ear to ear. My joke was not lost on him. The door opened and Lilah greeted us with a couple glasses of eggnog.
“Mischievous, thy name is Booker,” I whispered as Booker took the glass and we stepped inside.
“Please don’t go quoting Shakespeare, too. I get enough of that from those two.” He pointed to Lilah and Cole.
“You like Shakespeare, too?” Cole said, giving me a hug before taking my coat.
“No. I mean, Romeo and Juliet are horrible examples if you think about it. Killing yourself because you can’t have the one you love.” I scrunched my face at the stupidity of it.
“Booker feels the same way, don’t you?” Maggie greeted us both with a hug and led us into the kitchen.
Booker walked behind her, patting her on the head. “Now, now, Prego.”
And the games began. Lighthearted teasing, and several not so subtle hints that Booker and I should hook up.
“Where’s Sofia?” Booker asked, deflecting yet another veiled suggestion that we go out on a date.
“Napping in my room,” Cole said automatically. “Well, I guess it’s not my room anymore.” He bent down and kissed his wife’s neck.
“Enough of that,” Booker said. “There are young impressionables in the room.” He pointed to Maggie.
“This young impressionable is two months pregnant. I think it’s okay,” Maggie said, still looking a little under the weather with her drawn cheeks and eyes.
“Cole used to live here?” I asked.
“Yes, just for a little while,” Cole said, taking a piece of ribbon candy from a bowl on the counter.
“Seth and I wanted to wait until we were married,” Maggie explained. She glanced quickly at Booker then back to me. “We had Cole come and stay with us until we got married, sort of like insurance.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “I admire you. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“Nope,” Seth laughed. “But we survived.”
“Cole and I waited,” Lilah piped in.
“Pshhh. Two and a half months,” Booker scoffed. “Who couldn’t wait two and a half months?”
“He has a point,” Cole said.
“Yeah, on his head,” Lilah replied. “I’ll bet you can’t wait. I’ll bet when the right girl comes along, you won’t make it two days.”
“I didn’t sleep with Nikkolynn before I married her,” Booker said defensively.
“Bro, you met and married her in just over two weeks.” Seth shook his head. “I’m with Lilah on this, except I have more confidence in you than Lilah. I know you can handle two days. But I’ll bet you can’t wait until you’re married.”
“I’m in, too. How much are we betting?” Cole asked.
“We’ll need to make it a large amount or Booker won’t do it.” Cole grabbed a paper and pen from the desk in the kitchen.
Booker stood there shaking his head. “Now wait just a minute—”
“I’ll bet fifteen hundred dollars,” Cole said.
“I’ll match it,” Lilah piped in.
“That sounds good to me.” Seth wrote down their names and the amounts, all while Booker stood to the side, chuckling to himself. “Mags and I will bet five thousand.”
“Speak for yourself,” Ma
ggie said.
“You want to bet higher?” Seth asked.
“No. I’m taking Booker’s side. I think he can do it.” She smiled at Booker and he grinned proudly.
“Thank you, Magpie. I’m glad someone has a little faith in me.” The smile then fell from his face. “Yours is a pity bet, isn’t it?”
Maggie shrugged. “Maybe.” Guilt hung in her eyes.
“May I join in?” I asked. I’d been on the receiving end of Booker’s kisses. There was no way he would win this bet, and I could use the money. “I can only afford two hundred fifty.”
“Okay, stop.” Booker stepped over next to Seth and looked down at the list. “I never agreed to this. I never even hinted that I’d agree to this.”
“Chicken?” Lilah asked.
“No!”
“Oh, then you’re saying you don’t have enough self-control?” Lilah took the sheet of paper and wadded it up. “That’s what I thought.”
“Hold on. I am not lacking in self-control. In fact, that’s one of my best qualities,” Book insisted.
Lilah straightened out the paper. “So the bet’s on, then?”
“I’m being railroaded,” Booker said.
“Yes or no,” Seth said. “Are you man enough?” Booker rolled his eyes.
“It’s okay, Book,” Maggie said. “We understand if you don’t feel up to the challenge. Your little brother can kick your butt when it comes to self-control. We get it. Not everyone can have his incredible stamina.” Seth beamed proudly at his wife’s words. She kissed his cheek and said, “Come on, everyone, it’s Christmas. Let’s open some gifts.” We all turned for the family room and the large Christmas tree in the corner as Booker grumbled under his breath, his lips curled.
“Ugh! Fine. Deal,” Booker growled. Everyone, myself included, turned to Booker, our eyes wide. “I’m more than capable of controlling myself, thank you.” He folded his arms triumphantly over his chest.
“Book, you’re letting your pride get in the way again,” Seth counseled. “You need to stop and think this through. You know how you get. You’re like a dog with a bone when it comes to making bets. You hate losing. In fact, you’ve never lost.”
“Yeah, I was mostly teasing anyway, Book,” Lilah said, patting his arm.
“The deal is on,” Booker said firmly. “Unless you’re all afraid of losing your money, then by all means, chicken out. I’ll give you all one last chance to not be part of the deal.”
You could have heard crickets chirp. No one changed their mind. Lilah broke the silence first. “I’m not interested in backing out, but can I up my bet?” That earned a few smirks, myself included.
Booker ignored us. “To prove to you all,” he said glaring directly at me, “I’ll double the bet.”
“So if we win, we now get double that?” Lilah pressed.
“Exactly,” Booker affirmed.
Maybe I should bet more.
“This is all premature,” Seth said. “Booker hasn’t dated anyone seriously since Nikkolynn. At the rate he’s going, we’ll all be dead before he gets even gets a girlfriend, let alone marries her.”
“Dang, I hadn’t thought about that,” Cole said, frowning. “Too bad, I wanted to upgrade my motorcycle.”
I chuckled to myself. Cole and Harley’s were two things I’d never put together, and yet he owned one and rode daily until the weather got bad.
Seth tucked the paper in the drawer. “You got my hopes up, bro.” Seth’s mouth turned down, clearly disappointed.
Booker rolled his eyes. “You all are pathetic actors. Each and every one of you. Oh, and p.s., Tess and I are dating. Game on.” He looked at me and shrugged.
Lilah and Maggie grinned from ear to ear. “I knew it. I could tell when you walked in,” Maggie swore.
“You could not.” As he and Mags debated whether or not she could tell, I helped Seth set the table for dinner.
“He’s a great guy, Tess,” Seth said. “We tease a lot, but I don’t know a better person. Mags told me you had a rough marriage and I want you to know, Booker would never hurt you like that.”
“I know. I trust him.” And I did.
***
Seth’s restaurant was going to be a hit if Christmas dinner was any indication. The tofu salad was out of this world, and I hated tofu usually. Sofia was the big winner of the day, scoring so many gifts she was a grumpy mess by the time evening came due to overstimulation.
“Merry Christmas,” Cole yelled above Sofia’s screams as they left.
Seth turned, leaning against the closed door and said, “Just think, Mags. That could be us next Christmas.”
“I can hardly wait,” she smiled.
“We’d better get going, too.” Booker helped me with my coat. “We have work tomorrow and this one’s boss,” he squeezed my shoulders, “is a Scrooge if we’re late. . .” His eyes widened in mock fear.
We said our goodbyes and exchanged Merry Christmas’ again and left. “I thought the office was closed tomorrow,” I said as we drove away.
“It is. I’m hoping you want to spend some alone time with me.” He took my hand. “I have something for you at my house. Do you mind if we swing by?”
“Sure. With the bet in place, I have no need to worry about any ulterior motives.”
“Don’t remind me.” He muttered something under his breath again, but the music on the radio drowned him out as we drove to his house.
“Here.” Booker handed me a small gift wrapped in red and gold paper after letting Daisy May outside.
“Thank you, but you already gave me a bonus.” I took the gift and tugged on the gold ribbon, looking at him as I did.
“That was from your boss,” he explained as I peeled the paper back. “This is from the devilishly handsome guy in your life.”
“You forgot modest.” I chuckled.
“And humble.”
I open the box. Inside was a picture of a gun. I looked at him, confused.
“It’s the Glock nineteen you said you wanted,” he explained.
“The Gen four?” I smiled wide.
“I love it when you talk guns,” he growled into my neck before running a trail of kisses across to my lips. “Monday we’ll go pick out the exact one you want and fill out the mountain of paperwork now required to get a gun, and start the process going. If you want, you can get a concealed weapons permit.”
“Thank you,” I said, hugging him, and wondering how I was going to fill out the paperwork with my fake ID. I’d have to tell him the truth.
“I hope you’ll feel a little safer with one of these in your purse,” he said, pointing to the picture. “When the weather warms we’ll go do some target practice. Heaven knows we won’t have anything else to do.”
***
“We can head over to the gun shop tomorrow. Sound good?” Booker kissed me before I could answer. “You’re intoxicating,” he said heavily, opening the door to the trailer and stepping onto the front steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We came back to my place after I opened my gift and spent the night talking. It was now two-thirty in the morning. I enjoyed every minute of it. I turned and went inside, watching him drive away before shutting the door completely. I missed him already.
Before going to bed, I decided to send Booker a quick email.
“Thanks for making my Christmas wonderful. I miss you.”
I hit send, but didn’t close the laptop, in case he answered. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, then checked my email. No messages. He probably hadn’t checked his email.
“Unlike you, Tess, he’s gone to bed.” Exhausted, I turned my Lindsey Stirling CD on and fell asleep quickly to the vibrant melodies of the violin, happier than I’d been in a very long time.
I awoke to hands wrapped tightly around my neck.
Chapter 23
Four years ago
“Mom.” I threw my arms around her neck and held her tight while my sister grabbed my one and only suitcase from her car. T
ears streamed down my mom’s face as we stood outside the red brick rambler I grew up in.
It hadn’t changed. Even the Hawthorne tree looked frozen in time with its bright pink flowers and rough bark. I tipped my head back and let the sun bathe my face as I wiped my tears away.
My mom cupped my still bruised face in her hands. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I wish you would’ve told us.”
I looped my arms in hers and my sister’s as I nudged them toward the house. “I should have. I know that now. I just didn’t want to admit I’d failed. Plus, with Daddy being sick and all . . .”
“Failed? I hardly call this failing, Tess.” The look of indignation on my mother’s face gave me comfort. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, and her hair had grayed significantly since I’d last seen her, probably because of my father’s cancer.
I opened the screen door and stepped into the living room. It hadn’t changed either. Same green couch. I ran my hands over a misshapen cushion and smiled. Same huge TV sitting on a rickety stand. We kids tried relentlessly to convince Dad he needed to upgrade to a modern, sleek flat screen right after I got married. Dad, ever the saver, simply refused. “Not until this one stops working,” he’d say, patting the monster TV proudly.
A shadow caught my eye and I spun around quickly, fearing Garen had followed me. The sudden action pulled at my still tender incision and I winced. I smiled when I realized it was my dad.
“Sugar Cube.” He ambled toward me. It’d been a lifetime since I’d heard him call me Sugar Cube. He pulled me into a hug. He looked good, better than I’d imagined. Thinner and with less hair, but his skin had a healthy glow. “I wish you’d shared with us what was going on. You deserve so much better.” He pressed a kiss to my temple.
“I should’ve listened to you, Dad. You were right about Garen.” I pulled back and dried my face with my hands again.
“None of us knew he was a monster, Tess.” As he carefully turned my face side to side, his bright blue eyes darkened. “I know the good book says we are supposed to forgive, but I’m struggling with that right now.”
Unbearable (The Port Fare Series) Page 20