“No, you’re not. Tell me you’re not proposing to me.”
He cleared his throat again. “Going down on one knee would be a bit awkward right now, given the fact that I’m in a gigantic cast. But I am asking you to marry me. You, Chessie.”
Seriously, this could not be happening. She felt as if her mind were on some other level of existence, as if none of this was real. She struggled to pull her mind down, back to earth, but like a balloon let loose, she floated somewhere above herself, as if she were looking down on a scene unfolding below.
“But why?” she asked. Her hand shook, the tremors causing the facets of the ring to catch what little light existed in the coming night. Even in the pale light, the ring sparkled, drawing her attention to the garish twinkle. Each twinkle screamed at her, “You’re not one of us, you don’t belong!”
How could Theo have thought this ring would somehow symbolize all they had together?
“Why?” the word came out of her mouth again.
“Because you make me happy,” Theo said. “Because you cook me soup from scratch and bake me biscuits that don’t come out of a can. Because you’re awesome in bed. Because I don’t feel lonely with you around. Because no matter how crappy my day is, you somehow make it all better. Because I want you to move to San Francisco with me and be a part of my world, my life.”
As his words sank in, her mind finally grounded. A spark of anger ignited in her belly, and then flared, spreading throughout her core. Where had she been in that proposal? It had all been about him, how she made him feel, how his life was better because she was in it. Where the hell was she?
He hadn’t taken into account the fact that her life was here, in Meadowview, not five hours away in San Francisco. How did he think she could run Sweet Meadow Scents from some townhome in the city? And had he even thought about her garden? Her lavender plants?
Be a part of his world, he’d said. How the hell did he think she’d fit in his world? If she accepted his proposal, the minute it dawned on him how little she fit into his perfect little plastic bubble world, he’d dump her, no question there.
Emotion charged through her—anger, bitterness, fear.
Selfish, self-absorbed, hubristic Theo.
He’d told her he loved her because of how she made him feel. He expected her to give up her life and business. Worst of all, Theo had given her a ring meant for someone she’d never be.
Her legs trembled, but she forced herself to stand, to back away from Theo. “No,” she said plainly, and dropped the box with the ring inside onto his lap. “No, I won’t marry you.”
He stared at the black velvet box lying sideways on the dark denim. “What the hell?”
She shook her head. “That was the worst proposal I’ve ever heard in my life. It was wrong, all wrong.”
He sputtered. “Fuck, Chessie, how can a proposal be ‘wrong’? I told you I loved you. I asked you to marry me. What could be so wrong about that?”
A wave of exhaustion hit her. Suddenly she felt weary, almost unable to stand. But Theo had stood up and was staring down on her, emotion flashing in his blue eyes. Funny, but even in the dark of night, his eyes still radiated oceanic blue, drawing her near.
She shook her head. No. She would not succumb to Theo tonight. Not now, not ever again.
“The six weeks we’ve spent together have been a blast, really,” she began. “You’re amazing in bed. But if you’ve developed feelings for me, it must be like the Stockholm syndrome—you know, when the captive falls in love with the captor. You don’t really love me—you love what we’ve had as a result of being forced together. But it hasn’t been real, Theo. None of it has been real.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed, his mouth was a dark slash across his face. He no longer seemed hurt or confused—his face and body now telegraphed anger.
She took a step back. She knew she wasn’t making any sense, but she couldn’t say what was true, wouldn’t allow herself that vulnerability.
She continued speaking, mindlessly throwing excuses at him. “I know your mom wasn’t there for you when you were growing up, but you can’t ask someone to marry you because you need a mommy substitute, someone who makes soup and bakes you cookies.”
“Jesus, Chessie!” Theo exploded. “How the hell did my mom get into this conversation? This is all bullshit, and you know it.” He leaned in close, anger radiating. He lifted his arms toward her, then paused and pulled them back tight to his side. “You’re not making any sense. There’s no Stockholm syndrome and I’m not looking for a substitute for my mother. What the fuck is going on?”
A sob welled up inside her. She tried to suppress it, but hadn’t the strength. “You don’t get it,” she gritted out between clenched teeth. She struggled for control. “You don’t get me. You want me to leave everything I love to be somebody else for you. Giving me that god-awful monstrosity of a ring proves you don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“You don’t like the ring?” he asked.
“I hate the ring!” she shouted.
“Fuck, Chessie, so I screwed up about the ring. Big fucking deal!” Theo had closed his eyes. Raw power emanated from him, almost hitting her with its intensity.
She forged ahead blindly, ignoring Theo’s tightening jaw, “Where was I in that proposal, Theo? Where were we?”
He opened his mouth but she slashed her hand down, cutting off whatever he was going to say. She took a step away from him. “We were nowhere, Theo. Because, like always, life centers around you. Theo Courant, core of the universe. There is no ‘we’—there never will be. Life for you will always be about Theo and only Theo.”
“Goddamn it, Chessie,” Theo’s voice had taken a harsh edge. His face, which had earlier been placid in the gentle light, now radiated anger. “You’re being fucking unfair. You’re seeing me as the person you thought you knew, not the man who’s right in front of you.”
She cut him off with an upheld hand. “Save it, Theo. I’m going to bed. Alone. In the guest room. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
For a moment, Theo simply stood there, as if absorbing all she’d said. Her heart beat hard, so loud she thought she could hear it bumping against her chest. Theo dropped his head and slowly stepped toward her, his gait ungainly.
She took a step back, and then another as Theo backed her up until her butt hit the porch railing and she couldn’t go any further. He pressed his hips against hers, placed both hands on the railing on either side of her hips, trapping her. Once she was locked into place, he raised his head and looked her straight in the eyes.
“I have one question for you, Chessie, and I expect an honest answer. Can you promise me that, at least?” he asked. His eyes no longer held anger, but instead seemed searching. There was something buried in the blue depths that tugged at her heart. She worked to slow her breath, ease the pace of her heart.
“Yes, I promise,” she said.
“Do you love me?”
“I…”
“An honest answer, Chessie. You promised.”
She had. She’d promised him an honest answer, and he deserved one.
“Yes. Yes, Theo, I love you.”
His eyes seemed to blaze. “Chessie—”
She ducked under his arm, escaping his grasp. Whatever it was he wanted to say, she couldn’t bear hearing the words. She heard him curse, call her name again, but she didn’t turn back. Head held high, she walked back into the house, careful not to let the screen door slam behind her.
Once inside the house, she ran to the second floor, taking the stairs two at a time. At the last step, she stubbed her bare toe. A sharp and stabbing pain shot through her foot and leg. She clutched her foot, squeezing tight, a vain but unsuccessful attempt at relieving the pain.
“Oh, hell,” she whispered, and began to cry.
Overwhelmed by pain, both emotional and physical, she slid down the wall and sat alone in the darkened hallway. She cradled her foot in both hands and bent over it, rocking back and forth as si
lent sobs wracked her body.
She knew she’d thrown Theo every lame excuse she could think of when she refused his proposal. And a few very real fears as well.
But she hadn’t told him the most important reason she’d said no.
The truth was that she loved him and was desperately, frantically afraid he would break her heart.
And he would.
Because sooner or later, Theo would realize she wasn’t who he thought she was, that she didn’t fit into his world. The garish diamond ring had spoken to that. It shrieked country clubs and houseboys and idle wealth. If he’d known her, truly known her, he wouldn’t have bought her something that symbolized his place in society. If he’d known her, he would have given her something that symbolized their love for one another.
Theo knew enough about her to have fallen in love, but he didn’t know enough about her to be able to sustain that love.
That wasn’t a risk she was about to take by becoming his wife.
Theo yawned, stretched, and finally sat up in bed. He opened his eyes wide enough to take in the digital green of the clock and noted the time. Shit. Ten o’clock in the morning. He’d slept most of the morning away. Without that damned rooster to wake him up and keep him up, he’d been having a difficult time rising early in the morning. The problem, he realized, was that the clock had a “snooze” button, unlike the rooster.
He sat up, stretched, and scratched the middle of his back. Gaining the full use of his limbs after six weeks of having them trapped in captivity had been heavenly. It had been three weeks since his casts had been taken off, and he still experienced a slight rush when he used his limbs in a way he hadn’t been able to while he’d been injured.
Three weeks. His shoulders dropped. It had been three weeks since the casts had come off, three weeks since he proposed to Chessie, and three weeks since she’d shot him down.
The morning Theo left Chessie’s house had proven to be the most difficult he’d ever had to live through. True to her word, that morning Chessie made him breakfast, complete with the promised blackberry muffins. She helped him pack his clothes and laptop, and had driven him to the hospital. She even stayed at the hospital until he got his cast off and was declared fully healed.
Earlier in the week, his assistant had arranged to have his car ready and waiting in the hospital parking lot. So, after he was cleared by his doctor, Chessie had walked him to his car. There, she simply said a quiet goodbye and walked off toward her truck, her long patchwork skirt swaying from side to side.
Watching Chessie walk away from him, he’d never felt so lonely in his life.
He’d been planning on heading straight back down the mountain to San Francisco once his casts had come off. But watching Chessie walk away, he changed his mind. Conducting his work in Meadowview via the Internet over the last five weeks had made him realize he didn’t need to be tied down to San Francisco. So instead of driving off into the sunset, the way Chessie had expected he would, he spent the next few days finding a house in Meadowview to rent and buying furnishings, preparing to stay for the long haul.
So far, dividing his time between the city and his hometown had worked out well. He’d even been over to dinner at Jack and Lia’s place several times already. He enjoyed his time with those two, but occasionally he experienced twinges of pain. The pair seemed so happy and in love.
Of course, when he’d explained to Jack how his little sister had shot him down, his friend hadn’t been able to help much. “Chessie marches to the beat of her own drummer,” he’d said. “My advice? Don’t be so stuck on yourself and think about her.” The comment had pissed off Theo, but he’d listened. He could work on himself. He just wasn’t sure what he could do about changing Chessie’s mind.
The phone rang, but he let it go to voice mail. He needed coffee and a shower, and in that order. He tugged on a pair of boxer shorts and headed toward the kitchen in search of caffeine.
The place his Realtor had found for him seemed all he could ever want. Master suite with a hammered copper tub, state-of-the-art kitchen, wine cellar, a separate sauna and guest house. He’d handed the Realtor a check for the deposit the day it was shown to him. But now, walking through the cavernous house, he only felt the emptiness.
He missed Chessie’s warm and inviting home. Missed the sound of Chessie singing to herself as she mixed up a batch of lotions. Missed the front porch and the nipping cold every evening. Missed the fragrant scent of lavender bundles dangling from the kitchen rafters.
Hell, it wasn’t Chessie’s house he was missing, it was Chessie herself.
He wandered into the bathroom and turned the shower to mildly hot. When steam began to rise, he stripped out of his boxers and T-shirt and stepped inside the spray. He shampooed, rinsed, and then reached for a bar of soap.
Chessie’s soap. The soap she’d made for him using the scent she’d specifically designed for him. She had explained to him all that had gone into creating his signature scent, saying that she’d picked a woody scent to match his strength, a blend of spices to match his sexual drive, and had added in earthy overtones to ground his ego.
Theo had been a little worried when she asked him to stick his nose in a bottle and sniff, thinking the scent would remind him of some old hippy, but had been pleasantly surprised by the blend. Chessie truly knew what she was doing.
He lathered his body, knowing what would happen when the scent reached his nostrils. Once the pungent odor filled the air, it also filled him with thoughts of Chessie, as it always did. For a long while, he simply stood under the spray, breathing in the scent of memories.
The water from the showerhead began to turn cold. He didn’t realize he’d been in there long enough to run the hot water heater out. But thinking about Chessie could do that to him—he could get lost in time simply thinking about her.
He toweled off and tugged a pair of jeans over his damp hips, sans boxers or briefs. Chessie had gotten him hooked on going commando. During his time with her, he’d discovered quickly that the less there was to take off, the quicker they could get to the good stuff. He shrugged on a white cotton dress shirt, buttoned up the front, then grabbed a comb and checked his reflection in the mirror.
Someone with blank and vacant eyes and a dull pallor stared back. Someone with no hint of dimples or cocky smile. Someone who looked like he could be the star of one of those pitiful country-western songs—lost job, run-over dog, broken truck.
“Fuck.” He spoke the word out loud.
He looked totally fucked up. Almost as bad as he did the first day home from the hospital after his accident. Falling in love with Chessie had raised him to such heady heights, but her rejection of his proposal, of him, had dropped him back down to earth, where he’d landed hard. Once again, he looked like crap.
But this time it wasn’t because he hadn’t showered or shaved in days. No, this time it was because, for the first time in his life, he’d fallen in love. And then, for the first time in his life, he’d been rejected.
And rejection hurt.
It hurt like hell.
But what hurt worse was knowing he’d hurt Chessie. He’d screwed things up when he’d proposed, and had made her cry. But how had he fucked it all up? All that bullshit she’d given him about wanting a mother figure and being needy was crap. There had been something else going on behind her refusal, something he hadn’t yet discovered. But how the hell was he supposed to figure it out? Chessie wouldn’t return his phone calls and refused to talk to him about the proposal when he’d stopped by two times before. How was he supposed to make things right if she wouldn’t even talk to him?
The phone rang again. Like earlier, he let it go to voice mail. He shoved his bare feet into a pair of deck shoes and strode into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. He needed a little speed today, needed to get this day going.
Once again, the ring of the telephone disturbed his thoughts. Someone was being annoyingly persistent. Giving in, he picked the phone up and pushed
talk, then cradled it between his ear and his shoulder. “Hello,” he said as he leafed through a pile of mail littering his kitchen counter.
“Theo?” A woman’s soft voice spoke his name. It took him a second to realize who the voice belonged to.
“Lia? What’s up?” He ripped open an envelope.
“It’s Chessie, she’s—”
Tension plunged into his chest. “What’s wrong?” He cut Lia off before she could complete her sentence. The envelope fell to the floor, forgotten. “Is she hurt? Where is she?”
“She’s not hurt, Theo, but there’s been more vandalism at her place. It’s bad this time. She called Jack in tears earlier, and we’ve both been here for the last few minutes. She’s pretty shook up.”
“I’m on my way.” Theo slammed the phone down onto its cradle before Lia could say another word. He grabbed his keys from the counter and stormed out of the house. In seconds he was in his convertible, breaking all speed limits to get to Chessie.
He didn’t know if she wanted him there. He only knew it was where he had to be.
* * *
In Chessie’s front yard, surrounded by the sheer and utter destruction, Theo cradled Chessie’s head against his chest, shielding her from the whipping wind and rain. Adrenaline rushed through his system, causing his heart to beat hard and fast. A rush of anger roared through his head. Fucking Madison. The kid had destroyed everything.
Everything.
He gazed around the open space, watching as Remy Toussaint, dressed in his sheriff’s khakis, gathered information from a distraught Lia. Off to the side of Chessie’s property, Jack and Liz Pritchard were working to gather the scattered pieces of pots that had once held lavender plants. Delilah and a few other townsfolk had buckets of white paint and paintbrushes in hand, but even though paint would cover the graffiti sprayed on Chessie’s white picket fence, it wouldn’t eradicate the images from her mind. He knew what Madison and her friends had written there would forever be stained in Chessie’s memory. These messages were even worse than last time. Even more hurtful.
Tempting the One (Meadowview Heat 4; The Meadowview 4) Page 15