Talking After Midnight

by Dakota Cassidy

  Tag cupped her chin, stroking her jaw. “Oh, you don’t have to but me. I’ve but the hell out of myself. I reacted, MB. I didn’t think. I didn’t reason. I reacted. It was such a goddamn shock to find out that’s what you’d been hiding all this time, I just lost it. Doesn’t make it right. Now, you can tell me to go straight to hell for doubting you. I won’t talk you out of it, but I won’t let you leave here without hearing that I love you. I want you in my damn life. I want to read books with you and listen to Marilyn Manson while we do it. I want to make love with you. I want to watch more princess movies with you while we feed each other popcorn. I want to stain your couch with spaghetti sauce. I want you to let me into your life, and I want you to do it all the way.”

  “But what about the press? They’ll ruin your life. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.”

  He traced a finger over her lips, tender, soft. “How about we face that together when the time comes? For now, we have some peace. But nothing can ruin us if I don’t let it. And I damn well won’t let it, Marybell.”

  Her heart slammed into her chest, the roar in her ears drowning almost everything else out. They must have told him. “Did they tell you?”

  Tag inched in a little closer. “Did who tell me what?”

  “Dixie, Em, LaDawn, did they tell you about Tara-Anne?”

  His genuine confusion was the best gift ever. Hope welled up in her. “Tara-Anne. Did they tell you she was the one who took that picture of me and Leon?”

  Tag shook his head, his eyes determined. “I don’t care about the picture. I don’t care about anything but that you forget what an ass I was and we start over.”

  “You don’t know...” He didn’t know. He was offering her his trust and he didn’t know. She had to show him.

  “I don’t care, honey. I love you. Period.”

  Marybell dropped the plum fritters right there in the square and hurled herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, knocking him back a step before he got his feet under him. “You don’t know,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you don’t know.”

  Arms, steady, solid, secure, wrapped around her and pulled her close. “I don’t care about whatever I don’t know. Just tell me you love me back.”

  More tears sprang to her eyes. Everything melted away. All the hurt, the agonizing pain of leaving him fell away. She buried her face in his neck, inhaled his scent. “I love you, Taggart Hawthorne. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  His body shuddered against hers. “Okay. That’s good. Now I have one more thing to show you. But you have to let go for just a sec.”

  No. She was never, ever letting go. Marybell slid down his long frame and dropped to the ground, but she kept a tight grip on his hand.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  She nodded, almost too dazed to understand what could possibly be next.

  Tag let out a whistle. “C’mere, Doby! C’mon, pal!”

  Doby?

  From the shadow of the trees in the middle of the square, Doby bounded toward them.

  Doby.

  “Doby?” Tears sprang to her eyes. He was older now, a bit of gray powdering his golden forehead, his jowls puffy from age, his skin beginning to sag. Tag let him off the leash and he bounded toward her.

  Marybell dropped to her knees when he went into sitting position—images of teaching him that command flashing like brilliant bits of an instant replay. She reached a trembling hand out and placed it on his cheek. Doby curled into it, just as he’d always done, waiting for her to call him to her. “Come.”

  She patted her thighs, fat tears falling down her face. “Come, Doby.”

  Doby dropped his full weight on her, burrowing his wet nose in her jacket. “Oh, Doby,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his thick neck. “I can’t believe it’s you....” She buried her face in his neck and rocked him, inhaled the scent that had comforted her for so many long nights. She reveled in his warmth, remembered all the nights she’d used his soft fur as a pillow, his big body for shelter.

  Tag sat on his haunches and put his hand over hers, warm, secure.

  “Why? Why did you do this?” she squeaked.

  “That night when you told me Doby was the only living, breathing thing that had ever loved you sort of broke me. I don’t know what it’s like not to have someone to lean on, even if I was too much of an ass to realize it at the time. You said you always wondered what happened to him, and if he was happy with the family you gave him to for safekeeping. I didn’t know everything behind the story of Doby at the time. I just wanted you to know for sure that Doby had his happy ending. You gave him one. I wanted you to have yours, too.”

  “How? How in the world did you find him?” She’d never known what happened to Doby. After she’d given him to the little girl and her family, she’d moved off to another part of the city, and shortly thereafter, Landon had found her.

  Tag brushed her hair from her forehead, his eyes so different from the other night—tender, gentle. “Dixie and her wads of money could find a needle in a haystack. The Watsons frequent that restaurant you mentioned in front of the alley. We started there, and it all just fell into place. One of the waiters knew exactly who we meant, and he was decent enough to call them and ask them if we could connect.”

  The once-little girl at the end of an alleyway was now a pretty teenager. Chestnut-haired and dark-eyed, she was willowy and tall. So different from the chubby child with a long braid down her back. She and her parents stood by the big oak tree in the square, waiting with kind eyes full of hesitation.

  Marybell’s throat tightened until she almost couldn’t breathe. “No one has ever... No one but Landon... I...” The tears she’d held for so long just wouldn’t stop now. They fell into her lap, wetting Doby’s head. “I loved him so, so much. Giving him away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I just couldn’t take care of him....” She choked on her words, the sob raw and painful in her scratchy throat.

  Tag swiped at her tears, cupping her chin. “I know, honey. But I swear on all the bologna sandwiches in the world, if you’ll forgive me, I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you. Me, and Jax, and Em, and Gage, and the girls, and Maizy, too. All of us. You just have to promise to stay and trust that I’ll never let the past interfere with our future again. Trust that I’ll talk to you before I shoot off my big mouth.”

  Marybell pressed her fists to her eyes, unable to stop the tears, the gut-wrenching pain of losing Doby. Giving Doby away had symbolized the end of all hope, and now here he was, happy and healthy, representing a new beginning.

  Tag pulled her close, keeping Doby nestled safe between them. He rocked her then, swaying in the cold afternoon, helping her let go. “I’m sorry, honey. Jesus, I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t know what happened to you. I didn’t understand. But I do now. I understand why you were so afraid. But you don’t have to be afraid with me. Just let me be here for you. Trust me, and I’ll trust you. Team Broken for the win.”

  Marybell’s hands reached upward, under his arms, clinging to them with stiff fingers. And she cried. She cried for the child who’d never known a permanent home, who’d never had her own room or even her own clothes. Who’d never had loving parents.

  She cried for the teenager who’d wanted so badly to fit in, but was never in one place long enough to make friends and find what fit.

  She cried for the young adult who’d fought long and hard to overcome her poor beginnings and thought she’d finally found her place only to have that place in the world ripped out from under her.

  She cried for the woman who ran away from life, who went hungry, who ate from a Dumpster.

  She cried for all the years she’d missed with Doby.

  She cried for Landon who’d believed when no one else had. When no one should have for all the overwhelming evidence against her.

  And then she let Tag dry her tears. She leaned on him. She melted against him and let him carry the burden.

  And i
t was good. So very, very good.

  Tag leaned back and smiled at her—so handsome in the fading sunlight, so perfect.

  Marybell latched on to Doby’s leash, her hands shaking. “I don’t know if I can let him go again, Tag,” she muttered hoarsely. How could she let him go again? The idea of it was like severing a limb, cutting a vital artery.

  “Miss Lyman?”

  Her heart throbbed in her chest as she swiped at her tear-streaked face. Tag gave her a gentle tug upward. “Jody, right?” she whispered.

  Jody smiled and nodded, reaching down to stroke Doby’s head without ever taking her eyes off Marybell’s. She was afraid. But she was here. Here, letting Marybell reunite with the dog that had become hers. “Yes, Jody. I...I just wanted to say thank you to you—for all those years ago when you gave us Doby. I was kind of a misfit in school. Nobody really liked me, but Doby gave me something to look forward to when I came home. He changed everything for me. If...if you want him back, I’d totally understand. He really loves you. I can see that. He knew...he knew exactly who you were.” Her wide eyes filled with the tears only the expectation of separation can conjure.

  Doby nudged Jody’s hand, consoling in the way only her Doby knew how.

  Marybell shook her head, wiping at her cheeks. “No. No, Jody. I’d never take him.” Her voice hitched and Tag squeezed her hand, encouraging her. She cleared her throat. “I’d never take him from you. You’ve been so good to him, taken such amazing care of him. It’s obvious he loves you, too. I’m so glad he helped you. Thank you, Jody, and your mom and dad, too.” She held out the leash to the once young, awkward girl who’d turned into such a pretty young woman.

  Jody’s mother held out her hand, petite and dark-haired, her eyes warm. “Thank you, Miss Lyman. It’s so good to see you so happy and healthy. We looked for you for what seemed like months, so you’d know Doby was okay, but we never did find you.”

  Marybell shook her head. “I moved....”

  “Doby’s the best dog anyone could ask for, and Jody’s right. He changed her world. Watching her suffer day after day at school... Well, suffice it to say, Doby was better than any cookies and milk I could ever whip up. I can’t ever thank you enough for that, but we hope to pay it forward.”

  Jody’s father walked toward them, a smaller version of Doby in black on a leash in his hand. He came to stand next to Jody with a smile.

  Jody’s mother pointed at the excited mini-Doby, dark and wiggly. “This is Joe. Because of Doby, and how you came about him, we decided to foster. Thinking about Doby before you found him, wanderin’ the streets, hungry and alone, broke our hearts. So we decided to do something about it. Doby brought so much good to our home, we believe everyone should have a Doby. So we became fosters a while back. Joe reminded us so much of Doby’s personality, we jumped on the chance to take him in. Can you even believe someone would abandon this precious angel and leave him tied to a pole in the park? He needs a home, and we hear Plum Orchard’s your home—it’s so quaint here. And this square, it’d be a great place to walk him, don’t you think?”

  Marybell bent down and let Joe nuzzle her neck, lapping sloppy kisses on her face, and then he curled his face into her hand—so much the way Doby once had. It was a coincidence—surely, all dogs did it—but to her, it was a sign.

  This was home.

  Tag rocked back on his heels and grinned down at her. “I dunno, MB. You think we need another team member? Joe makes three.”

  “And as Doby’s biological mom, I’d love to have you drop by and pay him regular visits. We all would. Maybe you’d consider babysittin’ when we go out of town? He could play with Joe. They get along so well. Doby’s a great big brother.”

  Tag dropped a kiss on her lips. “I’ll help you potty-train,” he teased, smiling at her. “Course, that means you have to stay here. You know, with me.”

  “Yes,” she husked out around more tears. On tiptoe, she pulled Tag in for a kiss. A kiss that meant she never had to run away again. “Yes.”

  Cheers echoed from somewhere far off, making Marybell squint.

  Cat, Em, Dixie and LaDawn bounded out from behind the square’s gazebo, followed by Caine, Jax and the children. Their faces held smiles; their hands held picnic baskets.

  Em was the first to rush up to her and drag her into a hug. “We have food—because you know nothin’ worth celebratin’ is celebrated without my fried chicken.” She dropped a kiss on Marybell’s cheek and scurried off to gather up Gareth and Clifton Junior.

  Dixie held her arms out. “Phew, honey. It was touch-and-go there for a minute. Don’t you ever keep somethin’ like this from me again, okay? You promise, now.”

  Marybell, whose face was once more covered in tears, nodded against her shoulder, squeezing her eyes tight, savoring Dixie’s familiar scent. “Promise.”

  Dixie leaned back and dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue. “And come Monday, once you two are done—” she paused and batted her eyelashes “—potty training, pay me a visit in my office, would you? We’ll talk about that director-of-marketing thing, okay?”

  Marybell nodded—so grateful she could only nod.

  LaDawn twisted one of her curls around her finger. “You were gonna leave me here, Marybell Lyman. Persecuted and alone. I’m not gonna lie when I say that hurt.” She pointed a pink, glittery nail at her heart. “We started this together. You, me, Cat and Landon. That’s all there was back in the day.”

  Marybell hurled herself at LaDawn, hugging her hard. “I’m sorry. I was so afraid. I didn’t want to leave you, but I didn’t want you to suffer because of me.”

  LaDawn gave her a “sure, fine” smile and shooed her off. “You go on and be with your new man. You can buy me doughnuts later to make up for it.”

  She planted a kiss, an apologetic kiss, on LaDawn’s cheek. “Glazed with pink frostin’—just for you.”

  “A dozen. Only a dozen will make this right,” LaDawn joked, tucking her chin into her fake fur wrap and making her way to the tables everyone was setting up in the gazebo.

  Jax slapped Tag on the back and dropped a kiss on Marybell’s cheek. “There was no talkin’ Em out of a celebration—which, if you know Em, involves a boatload of food, but if you guys want to slip off somewhere—I get it. I’ll cover for you.”

  Marybell shook her head. This was where she wanted to be right at this second. With her family and Tag, celebrating what family was sometimes about—injecting themselves into your life. And she loved it—every second of it. “So, what do you say, Joe? How do you feel about some fried chicken and potato salad?”

  “Does this mean we’re keeping him?”

  “We are. We definitely are.” She lifted her lips for a kiss. That amazing, toe-tingling kiss before turning to the Watsons. “You’ll join us, won’t you? You and Doby?”

  Mrs. Watson squeezed her hand. “We’d love to.”

  “Ohh!” someone screamed. Cat came into focus, waddling toward them with Flynn holding her up. “It’s time! Get the car!” she yelled, moving toward Marybell with a crablike walk, her arms under her belly. “Give me a hug before I head off to that hospital. Just so I know you’re okay.”

  Marybell gave her a quick hug, and placed a gentle hand on her belly. “Go have that baby and make me an auntie,” she said on a laugh. Flynn pulled their car around and bundled Cat into it. Cat grabbed her hand. “Don’t you ever think about leavin’ us, MB. I’d miss you so. We started this. By hell, we’ll finish it.” She blew her a kiss before Flynn revved the engine and took off toward the hospital in Johnsonville.

  Tag took Joe’s leash. “So, should I call you MB or Carson?”

  She smiled, giving it only a moment’s thought. “Marybell was a rebirth for me. Landon gave the name to me because he once had a friend in some foreign country whose name translated to Marybell. He saw to all the legal changes, and it protected me all this time. I left Carson behind, I guess. Becoming Marybell was like sheddin’ my skin—skin that was strangling me. So
I think I’ll keep it. In honor of Landon and this new life he offered me.”

  Tag held out the crook of his arm. “Well, then, Marybell, whaddya say we go start that new life with some of Em’s fried chicken? New beginnings scream a celebration with fried chicken.”

  “Not bologna sandwiches?”

  “Nope. That’s only for nondates, and I think we’re past the point of no return when it comes to those.”

  She threaded her arm in Tag’s, snuggling close to him. “What point are we at? What comes after nondates?”

  “They didn’t tell you?”

  “Who?”

  “The nondate people.”

  “Missed that memo.”

  “How about I tell you later? You know, when we’re alone?” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her toes curl.

  Marybell smiled back at him, free. So free. “It’s a date, Hawthorne.”

  * * *

  Joe settled at the end of Marybell’s bed, curling up on a pillow Tag had given him. Fed and walked, he was quickly making her fall hard for him with his gentle nature and his sloppy puppy kisses.

  Gage and Gordy were safe for now, and enjoying a night out at some sports bar while the press chased after ghosts at the Atlanta Airport.

  She’d told Tag the details involving Tara-Anne. To her dismay, he’d first wanted her prosecuted, but she’d managed to convince him that it didn’t matter where the blame lay—in the press or otherwise. That he believed her was all that mattered to her.

  “How is it we’re on the floor and Joe’s on the bed?” Tag asked on a chuckle, dipping his fingers into her panties.

  She lifted her hips, savoring the slow slide he made into her wet flesh. “Are you gonna give me grief or are you going to have your way with me, right here on this floor?”

  Tag peeled the straps of her new pink camisole from her shoulders. Em had given it to her, in honor of her love of the color pink, and to signify the change her life was about to take. “I just know you like all things sparkly and fluffy, MB,” she’d said. “I’ve seen it from time to time when we were shoppin’ and such. I just never understood why you didn’t wear any of the stuff you liked. Now that I do, I figured you’d need a head start on a new wardrobe.”