While the bedroom was tempting, Gregory surprised himself by opting for the living room with its oversized couches. Lit only by the lights coming in from the street, he plopped onto one of the couches with Tamara snug on his lap.
With her nestled against him, Gregory’s body responded as it seemed to whenever he was close to Tamara—like a pubescent teen with raging hormones. Her curves pressed against him just begging to be touched, but he forced himself to keep his hands on her back.
That was easier said than done when she turned her head and dropped kisses on his neck, her soft breath whispering over his skin. Resistance was futile.
But no. This wasn’t any other woman, and waking up fearing that he’d scared her off had knocked some sense into him. If he wanted this to be real—and he did—then they needed to talk. He might not be an expert at relationships, but his gut told him she had to trust him fully and completely if this was going to be serious.
And holy crap, he wanted this to be serious. If his father could see him now—desperate for intimacy and commitment—he would die laughing. Hell, he could hardly believe it himself. He’d started to honestly believe he was not cut out for anything deeper than what he’d had with Vanessa—and that had been all about seeing and being seen. It was about how they were perceived by others rather than what they meant to one another.
He’d thought that was the extent of his heart’s capabilities. But all it had taken was one woman to slip through the cracks of the armor he’d constructed to keep his father’s criticisms out. It seemed the past decade had been spent trying to piss off his father or get his revenge. But now, here with Tamara, that bitterness seemed like something belonging to someone else. There was certainly no room for it in this cozy apartment, in this dark living room with this incredibly tempting woman.
Just like there was no room for secrets.
“Tammy—”
And just like that, she stilled. He’d noticed she had a tendency to freeze up at the sound of her former nickname.
She pulled back slightly to face him even though the room was so dark she couldn’t have seen much. “You sound serious.”
He chuckled softly. “I guess I am.”
She groaned and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you regret what happened before. Just because we’re working together—”
He cut her off with a kiss. Regret it? Never. “That’s not it. I may be an ass for sleeping with my employee, but I wouldn’t take it back for the world. That was incredible. You were incredible.”
He felt her smile against his shoulder. “You were pretty great yourself.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, and for a moment, he nearly lost his motivation. But then he remembered how scared he’d been that he’d thought he’d lost her when he’d woken up, and he knew without a doubt that he would never truly have her to lose if she didn’t trust him with whatever deep, dark secret she was keeping to herself.
“I know I said I wouldn’t pressure you,” he started. When she stiffened in his arms, he added, “And I won’t. But I need you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk.”
When she remained quiet, he added, “I want you to trust me.”
* * * *
It was the rawness in his voice that finally jarred her into speaking. He was right; he deserved her trust. After all, he was taking a chance on her—in business and in his personal life. Surely he’d heard the rumors. Enough, at least, that most men would have run in the opposite direction.
She’d seen it with her own eyes after her stint at the clinic. Her friends had all disappeared when they caught the whiff of scandal that clung to her. But Gregory was right, that had been six years ago. Ancient history. And it didn’t seem to bother him, so why not come clean?
After years of holding them in, the words were slow to start. But once she got underway, they tumbled out of her mouth, as if relieved to escape.
“When I first met Billy, my ex, he was really sweet.” She felt him tense beneath her, but he didn’t interrupt, so she cleared her throat and continued haltingly. “I met him when I moved to New York for a ballet academy. I was only sixteen and Billy was going to Columbia. His parents were friends with mine, so they hooked us up and it was…well, I thought it was love at first sight.”
She listened to the street noise outside as her mind wandered back to that time when she had been so naive and innocent. She hadn’t let herself think about those early happy days in ages, and the wash of emotions was bittersweet. “He was my first love. My first kiss. My first everything.”
Between his silence and the darkness that hid them both, some of the tension eased in her body and the words came quicker. There was a small part of her that imagined she was in a confessional, baring her soul. She hadn’t grown up Catholic, but in that moment she could see the appeal of unburdening a heavy load anonymously.
“I don’t know if he changed or if he was always controlling and I just hadn’t noticed because I was so in love in those early days.”
His hand tightened against her thigh, but he kept quiet.
“The academy was strict, too. I don’t think that helped matters. My every move was watched and critiqued; I had to be careful what I ate and how long I slept.” She smiled in the dark at the memory of battered feet and endless rehearsals. “It was brutal, but I loved it.”
She was quiet so long, lost in her memories, that Gregory finally spoke. “And then what happened?”
Her smile faded as the memories grew bleaker. “Billy and I moved in together. He proposed and I said yes. It was all very romantic except that I was so young.”
She shifted on his lap. “My parents were happy with us as a couple. He always boasted to them about how he would take care of me in the big bad city.” Her laugh was humorless. “I think he fooled us all into thinking that I was this helpless waif and he was my Prince Charming.”
“But he wasn’t,” Gregory said, jumping to the punch line.
“He wasn’t.” For a moment she thought she couldn’t continue. Her throat closed up on her as that lingering fear took hold. When Gregory reached for her hand and grasped it in his, she shook off the temporary paralysis. She was here, now. With Gregory.
“It started with him making simple decisions for me. He didn’t like the way I was wearing my hair to rehearsals, so he suggested that I change it. He didn’t like me wearing clothes that were too tight, too revealing.” She shook her head in disgust at her former self for not seeing it sooner. “It wasn’t like I dressed like a tramp or anything, but he started to shop for me and I let him clothe me like I was his little doll.”
She swallowed a thick lump in her throat. Pity for the girl she’d been made her temporarily weepy. “I’m sure you can guess where this is going….”
He made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a murmur of assent. Yet again she was glad of the dark. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see the emotions playing over Gregory’s face. It was one thing to pity herself, but she wouldn’t have been able to handle it coming from him.
“It got worse and worse, but it happened so gradually that I managed to make excuses for him the entire time.” She drew in a deep breath. “But then it got physical.”
She felt his entire body stiffen beneath her and found herself stroking his chest as if he was the one who needed comforting. And maybe he did. She’d come to terms with the abuse over the years. Or at least, she’d grown used to it. It was part of her history, like the scar on her leg from when she fell out of the tree. It was always there, but it no longer stung the way it once did.
Maybe it was because of his reaction that she couldn’t bring herself to go into detail. “It was never anything too serious,” she said. Ugh, now it sounded like she was defending him. “I mean, I was never hospitalized or anything.” Her stomach twisted and nausea settled in as the memory of those few incidents came back full
force. The first time he’d backhanded her. He’d been drinking and she’d talked back. At least that’s what he’d said; she honestly could never remember what she’d said that had set him off. He apologized after the first time. Told her it would never happen again.
She hadn’t really believed him, but by that point he had her so firmly in his grip that she’d been half afraid to order for herself at a restaurant, let alone declare that their relationship was over. The few times he hit her after that he never left a bruise and he never apologized, either. He slapped her once when she wanted to stay home rather than sit by his side when he met his friends. Then there was the time he’d grabbed her arms and shook her. The memory of each incident was vivid, like it had happened yesterday.
The silence stretched between them, and she shoved the memories back where they belonged and licked her dry lips. “But between the physical abuse and his controlling ways…” She shrugged in the dark, as if the rest was obvious. And maybe it was.
She heard Gregory’s ragged breathing in the dark. “I will kill him.”
She pulled back at the dark growl. Then she shook her head, even though he couldn’t see. “It’s over now. He’s been out of my life for years.”
He pulled her back against him, and he cradled her in his arms once more. “Is he why you ran away?”
She almost laughed. No, but that would have made more sense. “I wish I had at that point.” Licking her lips, she started in on the next part of her sordid tale. The part that hurt more than anything else.
“He made me doubt myself.” He didn’t respond, but then she hadn’t expected him to. “I was so young and after two years of his manipulations and controlling ways, I just…” She shrugged again, at a loss for words. “I lost myself. And in the meantime, he took every opportunity to convince my parents and my friends that he was always right and I was…well, crazy. In their defense, they didn’t see me often enough to know any better. They lived in Boston and we only saw them on holidays and the occasional weekend.”
“But they knew you,” Gregory reminded her.
She nodded. That was what had hurt the most. She’d thought her parents of all people would have seen through his lies. Part of her felt the need to defend them even though she had the same thought. They knew her; they should have known something was wrong. She’d been too cowed by Billy to tell them everything that was going on, but she’d hoped they’d see. He’d made her doubt herself to the point that she couldn’t tell truth from his lies. He had her believing his lies that she couldn’t handle life in the big city. That she needed him. That she was overreacting and that he was only trying to protect her. If he made her believe it, could she really blame her parents for falling for it too? She tried to explain it to Gregory. “They worried about me. They’ve always worried about me. I don’t know if you remember, but they had always been overprotective.”
“My stepmother said as much.”
She bit her lip to keep from asking what else his stepmother had said. It didn’t matter. She was setting the record straight now. “Anyway, they believed him. From the earliest days of our relationship he made comments about how difficult the ballet academy was for me. How I wasn’t strong enough to take the challenges and criticisms. He said it so often, I started to believe him too. Then as our relationship progressed, he made my attempts to stand up for myself sound like…” She struggled to find the words to describe how confusing it all had been. “He made me feel like I was being melodramatic. Paranoid, even. I found out later that he’d been telling my parents the same thing.”
Gregory tightened his grip on her, and she let herself sink against his chest, temporarily borrowing his strength. “By the end of it all, he’d manipulated the situation so no one believed me when I tried to tell them how bad things had gotten between us.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say the worst part out loud. The most shameful part. There had been moments when she wasn’t even sure herself. She’d been told so often that she was being paranoid that she’d honestly started to wonder. She remembered clearly the feeling of not knowing whether she could trust her own mind. Nothing could compare to that terror.
“The more I fought against him, the more it looked like I’d gone off the deep end. That I’d cracked under the pressures of the academy and living in a new city.”
After a moment of silence, Gregory filled in the ending. “So your parents thought it would be best if you got help.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. How could she tell him that it hadn’t been solely their decision? Yes, it had been their idea, but she hadn’t protested like she could have. She’d been so confused at that point that she’d honestly believed she needed that kind of help.
“They thought it would be for the best,” she said. “In their defense, I think they honestly did think it would be in my best interests. And it did help. Thanks to that time away from Billy and my life in New York, I was finally able to see him for what he was.”
She heard him mutter something under his breath. Enough to know that he thought they had been trying to sweep her under the rug. She couldn’t bring herself to deny it. Their need to avoid public humiliation and scandal had certainly played a part in their decisions. They’d worked hard to create the image of a perfect family. A perfect daughter. One who made false accusations against one of their circle’s favorite sons was not ideal. And to admit that she’d been sent out into the real world and couldn’t hack it? Not an easy pill to swallow for her family.
But she didn’t want to go down that cynical path with Gregory. Not tonight. Now that the worst of her story was out there, exhaustion took hold, and she buried her head in his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around her.
For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
Gregory buried his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
She tightened her arms around his neck. “It’s all history now.” And for the first time in six years, that felt like the truth. Telling someone the whole story had helped her see that part of her past for exactly what it was—a story about her past. It no longer had any bearing on her current situation.
Except she would have to face the crowd of people she’d run away from. Next weekend, to be precise.
An annoying jangle of nerves threatened to disturb the cozy, peaceful feeling she was reveling in as she cuddled up to her new… What? Boyfriend?
Nope, do not go there. Her rational brain quickly scolded her. It was too soon for that kind of label. Still, the mere thought that this might be more—something special—was enough to make her stomach do backflips in excitement.
It went from backflips to molten lava as Gregory’s hands wandered from her back to her waist and over her thighs. “I think we’ve had enough talking time for tonight, don’t you?” she whispered.
His low laugh was answer enough as he stood with her in his arms and headed back to the bedroom.
Chapter 8
Tamara sipped her coffee at the diner, hoping against hope that the caffeine would kick in soon. Marc and Caitlyn sat across from her, picking at their breakfasts.
“More coffee,” Caitlyn muttered as she reached for the carafe on the center of the table.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Marc said as he bit into a piece of bacon. “I’m glad we got to visit Meg and meet her little munchkin. But I’m pretty sure we could have waited a couple of hours.”
Tamara shrugged. “We were excited to meet her.”
“And it was worth it,” Caitlyn said staunchly. Then she yawned. “I think the adrenaline is wearing off.”
They all nodded in agreement, but Marc was watching Tamara closely across the table. “Don’t for one second think I’m too tired to grill you on the mystery man.”
Caitlyn’s head shot up at that, her eyes comically wide. “What mystery man?”
“Exactly.” Marc gave
Tamara a smug grin, his eyes alight with mischief. “I got home from Alex’s yesterday and there was a giant bouquet of flowers in our living room, addressed to our little Tam-Tam.”
Tamara ducked her head as she sipped her coffee. She was the only one of their friends who never dated, and being the object of this sort of scrutiny was not something she’d been missing in her life. “I was going to tell you,” she started.
And she had been planning to, just as soon as she and Marc had a moment alone together. But he’d been at Alex’s, and as soon as he returned, Meg had gone into labor. Tamara’s news got lost in the excitement. She’d forgotten that the flowers Gregory had sent from his business trip to DC were still prominently displayed in the living room.
Thank God she’d thought to remove the note that thanked her for an amazing night.
“Oh my God, she’s blushing,” Caitlyn said. She and Marc seemed to forget all about their food as they stared at her, waiting for an explanation.
“Who is he?” Marc demanded. “Have I met him? Is he someone we know? Oh my God, did you put up a profile on Tinder without telling me?”
Tamara laughed. “Slow down, Marc. Yes, you’ve met him. Yes, you both know him—sort of. And no, still not on Tinder.” Before Marc could ask again, she blurted it out. “It’s Gregory.”
Caitlyn let out a squeak that Tamara assumed meant she was excited. Maybe even happy for them. Since Caitlyn actually knew Gregory, and Marc was apparently stunned into speechlessness, she focused on Caitlyn. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
Her friends had no idea how much that question hurt her to ask. It had been a long time since she’d doubted her sanity, but now, with Gregory…she had this sense that she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was too good to be true. So yeah, maybe she was making a monumental mistake and she just couldn’t see it. For the first time in a long time, she desperately needed an objective opinion.
Caitlyn blinked at her, clearly stunned herself, but then she leaned forward and her face lit up with excitement. “Are you kidding? Of course you’re not crazy. Gregory is amazing—he’s sweet, funny, loyal, and, you know…”
Her Leading Hero Page 11