Take My Hand: BWWM Romance

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Take My Hand: BWWM Romance Page 13

by Shanade White


  The afternoon show was just as big of a success as the morning show had been, the crowd so large that people were standing against the walls. By the time they got back up to the suite that afternoon, Marissa was floating on a cloud of success. Her designers were busy in one of the smaller ballrooms meeting the public and hopefully making the kinds of contacts that would lead to other jobs in fashion.

  Marissa’s Fashions never kept the same designers for long. Although it had begun as a way to make money for her charity work, it had quickly morphed into a stepping stone into the fashion world. Of course, she had a core group of employees who had been there from the beginning, but she liked the constant change of new designers who popped up from all over the country. She encouraged them to learn as much as they could then to move on, Marissa’s Fashions a door opener on their resume.

  Knowing it would take her hours to get ready, she shoved Scott into the bedroom and told him to take a nap, which he did gratefully. “Aren’t you tired? It’s going to be a late night, you should sleep too,” he said, plumping the pillows.

  “I’m way too keyed up to sleep, plus I have to get ready. I’m going to order us a snack, we can go out after the show for dinner if you want,” she said, going into the bathroom and shutting the door. When she got out of the shower, Scott was asleep, snoring softly. She wanted more than anything else to crawl in with him and snuggle into his arms, but duty called.

  By the time their snack was delivered, Marissa was ready except for putting on her dress. Scott came out of the bedroom looking sleepy but sexy making her heart thump in her chest. She crossed the room and gave him a careful kiss, then disappeared into the bedroom with an apple and some cheese. Once the door was shut, she locked it and started the process of getting dressed.

  When Scott knocked on the door concerned about the time, she was ready. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out. Scott was sitting on the couch when she came out the door but quickly leapt to his feet when he saw her. Her dress was dark purple velvet. It molded to her curves with just enough exposed skin to make a man want to see more. Her silver slip peeked out of a slit in the skirt that stopped just low enough that a seductive glimpse of thigh showed.

  Scott’s mouth went dry at the sight of her and he nearly stumbled over his own feet to get to her. Taking her hands in his, he raised one to his lips and kissed the back of her hand in an old fashioned gesture that make her loins contract with longing. Scott looked amazing in a charcoal grey tuxedo that was the anchor piece for her formal line. The color brought out the green of his eyes and accentuated his muscular build.

  “You look better than any of those models will look tonight. No one is going to be looking at them, they’re all going to be looking at you,” he said, tucking her hand under his arm. “Are you ready?”

  Marissa had been nervous before when she’d been standing in the bathroom, but now looking up at Scott’s calm green eyes, her nervousness vanished replaced by confidence. When she saw their reflection in the elevator doors, she was astonished to see what a striking couple they made, her dark skin and hair a sharp contrast to his blonde hair and fair skin.

  “We look good together,” Scott said, kissing her cheek.

  The ballroom had been transformed into a candle lit oasis complete with quiet music playing in the background. There was a buffet of finger food along one wall and a small bar serving wine and champagne in one corner. Instead of the traditional runway, the models would mingle with the guests, making a couple of sweeps of the room before going back behind the scenes to change into another outfit.

  Scott got them both a glass of wine, but before Marissa could even take a sip, the pager in her purse went off signaling that they needed her in the dressing room. Scott had known that this would happen, Marissa had prepared him well, so he simply took her glass and waved her off.

  “I’ll try not to be too long,” she said, rushing off.

  Scott was perfectly content to stand back and watch people. He really had no desire to get to know any of these people, and it was much more entertaining to see their interactions. He’d backed himself up against the wall in a place where he had a good view of the doors that Marissa would come back out of when she was done. A commotion at the front door caught his attention and he turned to see what everyone was staring at. Marissa came out of the back at the same time, her attention caught by the commotion as well.

  What she saw made her blood boil. Misty had come through the front door and was making a bee line for Scott, calling his name loudly. Marissa stopped and watched the scene unfold before her eyes, suppressing a smile when she saw how Misty was dressed. Her dress was skin tight, made from some kind of spandex, and so short that every time she took a couple of steps it rode up on her thighs and she had to stop to pull it down.

  Scott watched Misty approach him with a look of horror on his face. Misty seemed not to see it and kissed him on the cheek, dragging her breasts across his arm in the process. Scott shuttered at the contact which only encouraged her, but Marissa had seen enough. Marching across the room, she stepped right up and interrupted Misty.

  She was running her hand up and down Scott’s arm, but when she saw Marissa she stopped but still clung to his arm. Scott pulled himself free of Misty and kissed Marissa on the cheek, tucking her hand under his arm. Misty made a face but continued undeterred.

  “I was just saying to Scott that every time I see him he’s alone, that’s a terrible way to treat your boyfriend, Marissa,” Misty said, batting her eyes at Scott.

  “And I was just going to explain to Misty that tonight is an important night for my wife.” He paused, then lifted her hand and kissed the ring on her finger. “She’s worked hard, I think I can entertain myself for a few minutes so everything’s perfect.”

  “It’s too bad you have to work, Marissa, I don’t know what I’d do if I had to,” Misty said, tugging on her skirt. “But I suppose in this day of pre-nups, you have to have a way to pay the bills.”

  “Oh, we didn’t sign a pre-nup, there was no need for one,” Scott said, beaming at Marissa, the love she saw there genuine. She been anxiously waiting for Scott to tell her that he loved her, but it hadn’t happened yet and she was getting impatient.

  Misty’s eyes got huge, she swallowed several times, then made an excuse to leave them. They watched her walking across the room, pulling on her dress as she went. “That was kind of pathetic,” Scott said, echoing the thoughts that were running through her mind.

  “Yeah, it was, but she’s not done yet. Why did you tell her that we didn’t sign a pre-nup? Now that’s going to be spread all over town,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs.

  “Besides the fact that I wanted to stir things up, I just wanted to make sure she knew how much I love you,” he said, then realized what he’d just said, his face suddenly serious.

  Marissa just stared at him, unable to believe what she’d just heard. But her pager buzzed not one but two times. Looking around her, she remembered where she was and said, “I have to go, but we need to talk later.”

  Scott only nodded at her, shocked that he’d just told her he loved her in the middle of her show, instead of the romantic way he’d planned. Again, that woman had come between them at the worst time. Misty had thrown him off balance, he’d just wanted to shut her up and get rid of her, even now the thought of her bony hands on him made him shutter. Retreating back into the shadows to wait for Marissa, he put his back to the wall so he could see Misty coming. He too had no doubt that she’d be back.

  It didn’t take long for Marissa to come back. Scott met her as she came across the room. Relieved to see her, he pulled her to his side and didn’t let go until the show was over. They could see Misty hovering around them, but she didn’t approach them, just fluttered from group to group, throwing dirty looks at Marissa from time to time.

  When the show was over, Marissa went back to the dressing room to share the success with the staff and models. The new formal line was alr
eady getting rave reviews on the internet and sales were already pouring in. Marissa walked back to the dressing room excited by the success of the night; if sales continued the way they were, it would be a necessity to open the new factory on the east coast.

  After drinking a toast to their success, Marissa made sure that there was plenty of food for the after-party and rushed back out to Scott. It was time for them to talk. He’d looked as shocked as she had when the word love had come out of his mouth, but she didn’t know if that was because he didn’t mean it or because he hadn’t planned on saying it right then. Regardless of the answer, she needed to know where they stood. It might make it easier to handle her own feelings if she knew what he was feeling.

  But when she emerged from the dressing room it was to find Misty hanging on Scott’s arm again. Her heart sank, she was tired of this game Misty was playing. They were grown women not teenagers at the school dance. Striding determinedly across the room, she decided that now was the time to end this once and for all.

  When she stepped up to them, Misty was saying, “I don’t know what you’re doing with her. Have you really looked at her?”

  Marissa’s blood was already boiling, but as the words left her mouth, Misty began rubbing her breasts on Scott’s arm. Stepping up to them, she could see the look of horror on Scott’s face and would have laughed had she not been so mad. Marissa grabbed Misty by the shoulders, resisting the urge to throw her to the floor, and moved her away from Scott.

  “It’s time for you to keep your hands off my husband,” Marissa said, and then to make the point clear, she held her hand in front of Misty’s face, her wedding ring glinting in the light. “See this? This means that we’re married, so keep your hands off him. He doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

  Misty stumbled a little when Marissa let go of her, then regained her balance and stared at Marissa before laughing and saying, “Ha, that’s what you think. Look at you and look at me. Who do you think he’s going to choose?”

  Scott opened to his mouth to defend himself, but Marissa silenced him with a look. “Here’s the problem with that logic, Misty,” Marissa practically spat her name. “That body is all you have to offer, and as great at that may be, it’s not going to hold a man for long.”

  “And you think you’re going to be able to hold on to him with what? Your brain, your witty conversation? Grow up, Marissa, he’s just playing with you, he’ll get tired of it soon enough. They always do, and I’ll be there waiting, then he’ll find out what a real woman is,” Misty said, putting her chin up.

  “Again you’re wrong, because it’s exactly those things that keep a man. Sex may be one of the best parts of marriage, but it doesn’t make a marriage. A marriage is made with commitment, compromise, communication, sacrifice, and most importantly love,” Marissa said, her words directed at Misty but her eyes on Scott.

  Misty stared at Marissa hostilely, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find a comeback, but eventually she closed it as Scott took Marissa in his arms and said, “I can promise you that Marissa is all the woman I need. She’s kind and caring, sexy as hell, and mine to love forever.” His eyes glued to Marissa’s, he took her hand in his and tucked it under his arm and led her out of the ballroom, leaving Misty standing alone in the empty room.

  Once on the elevator, Marissa pulled her arm out from under Scott’s and backed away a few steps and folded her arms over her chest. He didn’t say a word on the elevator, giving Marissa some space to process her anger, which for some reason she seemed to be directing at him as well as Misty. When they finally got into the room, Marissa headed straight for the bedroom to change her clothes, but Scott stopped her and pulled her over to the window.

  She let him wrap his arms around her, but was stiff in his arms. “I’m mad at you too,” she finally said, her body relaxing a little in his arms. Twisting her head to look up at him, she added, “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me you love me, it’s a big deal to me, Scott. Then you said it so off handedly, like it was not big deal.” She was so close to tears, a little sob escaped and she turned back around.

  Chapter 13

  Scott’s heart melted when that little sob escaped her chest. He was flooded with a feelings of love so intense he was sure that Marissa should be able to feel it. “Hey, turn around and look at me,” he said, turning her around in his arms and tipping her chin up so he could look her in the eyes.

  He looked at her for a few seconds, all the love he felt making it hard for him to speak, but finally he found his voice. “I never meant for it to sound cavalier when I said that I love you. It’s just that I’ve loved you since the day we got married, it’s become such a part of who I am I just forgot to tell you,” he said, catching a tear that had leaked from her eye with his thumb.

  “I love you too, Scott. I’m sorry I got so upset, but I needed to hear that. This happened so fast sometimes it doesn’t seem real. It’s only been a couple of months, but I can’t imagine my life without you,” she said, searching his eyes for understanding.

  “Now you understand why I don’t want you putting yourself in danger,” he said, making her look down guiltily. He tipped her chin up again. “But I can promise you this, I’m going to tell you that I love you so much that you’re going to get tired of hearing it.”

  “I can promise you that will never happen,” she said, tears flowing down her face. “I’ll never get tired of hearing it. I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”

  Scott rocked her in his arms. “I know, sweetheart, me too.”

  When the tears finally subsided, Marissa said, “Let’s go home tonight. I don’t want to stay here.”

  “If that’s what you want, but I’ve been looking forward to peeling that dress off of you all night,” he said, his green eyes suddenly full of passion when he looked at her.

  Marissa was immediately lost in those green eyes, her heart thumping as it always did when Scott looked at her that way. “Well, I wasn’t planning on wearing it home, so I might need some help.”

  “I’d be happy to help you with that,” he said. They did head home that night, but not for several hours.

  The weeks passed in a whirlwind of activity as they finished the house and spent weekends searching estate sales and auctions for furniture. By the first of November, the house was finished and Scott had sent the men out to work on the barn and outbuildings; those that couldn’t be saved were rebuilt based on styles of the period. When the property was finished, it would look just like it had in the 30s on the outside, but inside Scott had incorporated as many modern conveniences as he could.

  Marissa was thrilled with the result of the renovations. The house looked exactly like she’d imagined except for the big man who lived there with her. But with the holidays coming, she knew that it was time to deal with the charity which she’d been running quietly from home. Scott knew that she was doing it, but he ignored the problem willing to wait for Marissa to approach the subject.

  She finally she did one morning after breakfast. They didn’t have any plans for the day, so it seemed like the perfect time, and she wanted to make a round of visits before the holidays which were a difficult time for some of the people she helped. While Scott was drinking his last cup of coffee, she gathered all her files and set them down on the kitchen table.

  “It’s time we talked about the charity,” she said, pointing to the files.

  Scott picked up the file on top of the stack. “This doesn’t look too bad, you’ve been supporting after school programs in Oklahoma and Nebraska,” he said, setting it back on the table.

  “I don’t necessarily visit places like that. Even if I did, I don’t see any danger there,” she said, putting the file to the side.

  “No, I’d have to agree, but you know those may be the places you’re going to have to start visiting,” Scott said, thinking that might be a perfect solution to the problem. Marissa could still be out in the trenches, but they’d be much safer trenches.

&nbs
p; Marissa considered this for a few minutes watching while Scott took another file off the pile. “I don’t know if I’m willing to give up that much yet. There has to be a way for me to still go and for you to not worry,” she said, carefully making her wishes known.

  After several hours of discussion, they’d made three piles of files on the table: a pile of places that posed no risk, a pile of places Scott would feel comfortable with her visiting as long as she had company, and finally a list of places he was dead set against her visiting ever again. There were only three files in the third pile, but they were the women’s shelters in the three worst neighborhoods in the country.

  “The only way I’m letting you go into these neighborhoods is with a bodyguard, preferably me,” Scott said, tapping the pile.

  “I’m willing to concede to a bodyguard, but it can’t be you. We’d only attract more attention if you were following me around. It has to be someone who fits into the neighborhood. In fact, it would be best if it was someone from the neighborhood, someone who knows the streets,” she said, thinking it through.

  “Marissa, you need someone who’s trained to defend you, not some street thug,” Scott countered.

  “No, Scott, think about it. It makes perfect sense, who else would know about what’s happening on the streets? It’s not like they’re going to have to defend me against a sniper or something. We need someone who can give me protection in the streets,” She said, searching her mind for the right person.

  “I have to admit that you’re making some sense, but I don’t know how we’ll ever find someone like that,” Scott said. “I don’t know how you advertise for something like that.”

  Then Marissa thought of the perfect person. “I know exactly who we should call,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Just let me make a phone call.”

  When she hung up, she’d arranged for someone named Angel to come out and meet Scott. He was skeptical when she told him about Angel who she’d met at one of the women’s shelters when he was only 14. He’d brought his mother in after a boyfriend had nearly killed her. He and his mother had spent six months at the shelter, and Marissa had gotten close to both of them. Angel had graduated from high school a few years ago but stayed close to home.

 

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