Beautiful Scars

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Beautiful Scars Page 19

by Shiloh Walker


  Something real.

  Hell. She didn’t need to put a name to it, because she already knew what it was.

  Shaken, she focused on the earrings again. Easier that way. “I’m just not really comfortable accepting gifts, Marc,” she said quietly.

  “It’s just one,” he pointed out.

  Rising from the couch, she tucked the earrings inside the box. Something told her she needed to be careful here. Maybe not do anything. Yet. This was a scary conversation to have.

  “Just one gift,” she blurted out. “Yeah. But…” Her mind spun around, desperate to seize onto something.

  Something real…something real. She wanted to believe that so bad. Wanted to believe they’d still be spending so much time together after the website was done. But what about when he went back to the studio? Back on tour…

  The website—

  “The website!” She turned around and glared at him.

  A wary look entered his eyes. “What about the website?”

  “You all but handed me the easiest job in the world and you’re overpaying me!” Okay, that was stretching it. It wasn’t easy and she was damn well busting her ass. Maybe he was overpaying her…

  “Hey, we’ve already agreed the damn website I’ve got is a joke,” he said, his voice edgy. “I needed the damn thing redone, right?”

  “Well, you didn’t need to pay me double what it’s worth,” she babbled. Okay, I’m being silly here…

  “How in the hell do I know what they’re worth?” he asked. “I named a figure and we agreed on it and it’s not like it’s a handout if you’re doing the damned work!”

  A handout—

  Fury flickered, flared to life inside her. Okay. She’d been reaching when she threw the website out there, but… “A handout?” she said quietly.

  Marc’s face went rigid.

  “That implies like you think I might need a handout,” she said coldly. She was broke, yeah, but damn it, he didn’t need to know that.

  “I’m not giving you a damned handout. I needed a damn job done and I asked the one person I knew who could do it to get it done,” he said.

  “Huh. And oddly enough, you managed to toss out a figure that all but wiped out a few of my medical bills.” Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “When did you see my medical bills, Marc?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “You son of a bitch.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Things could go from heaven to hell in the blink of an eye and Marc had no idea just how this had happened.

  He’d just wanted to give her something.

  That was all.

  But as she stormed around the private room at Blue’s, gathering up the clothes he’d stripped off her, he realized he’d managed to piss her off but good.

  And he didn’t know how.

  She was leaving. Why?

  She’s running, a small voice in the back of his head whispered not even a second later.

  Running?

  He remembered the panicked fear he’d glimpsed in her eyes just moments ago, before it had faded. Faded? Or had she hidden it? He’d thought they were done hiding things, but was she still…

  Okay. She was either hiding still, or he’d fucked things up.

  Either way, he wasn’t letting her walk away like this.

  As she pulled her dress on, he snagged his trousers and tugged them up. Checked his pocket. Yep. It was there.

  She started for the door, but he beat her, just barely. As she tried to jerk it open, he slammed it shut over her head. “Running away?” he asked softly.

  “No. I’m leaving. I can’t believe you fucking did that, Marc,” she snarled.

  “What? Have you take over a job you should have been doing all along?” He shrugged. “Shoot me. The way I see it, the bonus doesn’t even cover the money you would have made if you had been doing the site all this time, like you should have been doing. It’s fair enough, in my mind.”

  She whirled around and glared at him. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  “Ask you what?” he said bluntly. “Ask you to take the job? I did that, remember?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Oh, wait, now let me guess. You’d rather I point it out like this… Chaili, I know you’re tight on money. And I really do need you back on my website. Can you come back? Shit, you’d never think one had nothing to do with the other.”

  “Are you’re telling me they didn’t?”

  “I never knew you weren’t doing it!” he shouted. “And if you had been doing it, the way you should have been, you wouldn’t be so fucking tight on money! And if I didn’t have my head up my ass, I would have realized what was going on! And it still doesn’t change the fact that you did the best job on the damned site and I needed you back.”

  “So. You just overpaid me on accident.”

  He glared at her. “You’re running away because you’re scared.”

  “I am not,” she snapped. “I’m leaving because I can’t stand a man who thinks he can control me like that.”

  “If I’d wanted to control you, I would have just paid off every last one of the fucking medical bills,” he said. “And it damn well killed me not to do it. It’s making me sick thinking about how hard you’ve had it, damn it. But I didn’t do that. I gave you a job that I needed you to do.”

  She just curled her lip at him. “I don’t need the pity work, Marc. Or the pity fuck. So if you’d just move…” She turned back to the door expectantly.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the picture. Slammed it against the door. “No,” he rasped. Pressing his lips to the back of her head, he whispered again, “You’re not doing this, Chaili. I’m not letting you run away over whatever in the hell has just scared you. I just found you, damn it.”

  Chaili jumped as his hand slammed against the door. One arm came around her, hauled her back against him. She jerked against his hold, but he continued to hold her. “You’ve got my head all screwed up. You’ve got me twisted up in knots and there are things I want to say to you, but I know I’m going to fuck up what I’m saying.”

  As he scooped her up in his arms, she went rigid. I’m not doing this. I’m not. Damn it. How could he have gone through my stuff, found out about the bills… Her belly was hot and tight with shame, just thinking about it.

  “I didn’t mean to see the bills,” he said as he sat on the couch. “I was working on a song, the day we were at your place, with the scarves. I accidentally knocked the bills over. That’s how I saw them.”

  Staring at anything but him, Chaili told herself it didn’t matter. He’d seen private stuff. He shouldn’t have looked—

  Shit, what was he supposed to do? Leave it on the floor? I could have put it away…

  Shit. She was being a coward. Closing her eyes, she said quietly, “Let me go, Marc. I need to think.”

  “You mean run away,” he muttered.

  “No. I mean think.”

  As his arms fell away, she scooted off his lap, but she didn’t get up, just curled up on the couch, her head pressed against her knees. Okay. He’d seen the medical bills. Nothing she could do about that. And she was being stupid here. Stupid, and she knew it. She…

  Hell, she was terrified.

  She wanted to believe he felt something real, because that meant it could be something that lasted but…

  “Marc,” she said, glancing up at him. But he wasn’t looking at her.

  He was looking at something he held in his hand.

  Slowly, he held it up, flipped it around so she could see it. Startled, she hissed out a breath, shooting a look between him and the picture. It was one of the ones she’d stripped out of her house. One of the dozens. This one, one of her…and him. Down at the pier. He’d been laughing, playfully leering at her and she’d been pushing him away. She’d given the pictures to Shera, though. “Ah…did Shera give you that?”

  “No.” He stroked the edge of the picture with his finger. “I fo
und it…with a box of everything else that was us. Or me. You decided to cut me out of your life. Right after I realized just how important you were to mine.”

  Right after I realized…

  Licking her lips, she whispered, “When did you find it?”

  “The day I came looking for you at that idiot’s party.”

  Tears blurred her eyes. She blinked them away. That had been more than two weeks ago. Her heart skipped a beat. Okay. This conversation was taking a turn she wasn’t prepared for. She needed a drink. Yeah. Some coffee. Something to clear her brain. She was slightly tipsy from the wine they’d had at dinner. Drunk on sex. Emotions kiting way too high. “I need some coffee,” she said, shoving to her feet and heading for the small kitchenette the private VIP rooms boasted.

  Two arms came around her, hauling her back against that lean, muscled body. Marc’s silken black hair brushed up against her cheek. “What are you doing, Chaili?” he whispered. “Why do you keep running?”

  “I’m not. I just need some coffee.” Her voice came out a bare whisper. I need to think…need to… Oh, hell. He pressed his hand against her belly, his thumb stroking up, down.

  “Every time I try to tell what I’ve got trapped inside me, you either run away or try to hide or change the subject. Now…” He dipped his head, nuzzled the curve between her neck and shoulder. “Now you want to make coffee. Chaili, have I ever mentioned that you confuse the hell out of me sometimes?”

  Coffee, she told herself. Caffeine. She needed to think.

  “Why are you still trying to run?” he whispered.

  Because I need to think! “I…”

  She licked her lips. Lifting her hands, she covered his, staring down at the way her hands looked on his. And she saw her ring. That ring that Shera had made for her. You think things through too hard. And here she was, doing it again.

  Groaning, she dropped her head back on his shoulder. “Maybe I confuse you, but you terrify me.”

  For the longest time, he didn’t say anything.

  Then, finally, he turned her around, his hands curved around her waist, his gaze intent on hers. Slowly, he slid one hand up, up, up…lingering over the scars hidden under her dress, tracing the tattoo he couldn’t see. Along her neck until he cupped her face. “Why?”

  “Because.” She licked her lips, staring into his face, even though she really wanted to run and hide now. “Damn it, Marc. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re what I’ve always wanted. And now you’re standing there like maybe I could really have you and it scares me. What if I lost you?”

  He cupped her face.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. Okay. He wasn’t pulling away. Wasn’t looking at her like he was about to wig out. That…that was a good thing, she thought.

  “I spent years searching for what I wanted…and I just found her. The fucked up thing is that you were here all along. There hasn’t been anybody who has made me feel the way you do, Chaili,” he said quietly. “Nobody. You let me feel like I can be me. You make me feel real. Over the past few years, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel real.”

  Well, that wasn’t a shiny declaration of love, but it sounded pretty promising.

  She reached up and curled her hands into his shirt. “You are real, Marc. You’re a real boy, I promise you.”

  “Smart ass,” he whispered. His other hand came up, until he had her face cupped in his palms. “I don’t feel like myself half the time. I don’t feel…like me. But with you, it’s different. You make me feel like it’s okay to be who I am. What I am.”

  Her throat ached as she tugged him closer. Easing up onto her toes, she pressed a kiss to the stubbled line of his jaw. “Marc, baby…there’s nothing wrong with who you are. What you are. I adore the man you are. Well, except when you’re being sneaky and trying to find ways to take care of me.”

  “I can’t help that,” he said sourly. “I want to take care of you. I kind of need it.” He fisted a hand in her hair, tugged her head back. “And there’s this way you look at me that makes me…even better than I know I am. Makes me want to be better.

  “Chaili…” His gaze roamed over her face. He squeezed his eyes closed, dipped his head until his brow rested against her. “I’m going to screw this up.”

  Burrowing in close, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Well, if it helps, I’ve already screwed up a little. I’m sorry I jumped on you. I…um. I panicked. I’m sorry. I just keep thinking something’s going to fall apart and I just want to run away before that happens. I’m terrified something will fall apart and that you’re never going to feel the way I do and…”

  Chaili gasped out as he backed her up. The wall was at her back, and the long, powerful lines of his body pressed against her front, the heat of him burning through her dress. Fire seemed to burn in the depths of his eyes.

  “I love you,” he snarled. “Stop worrying, and stop running. I love you, damn it. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I know it’s real, and I know it’s there. I love you, Chaili. Just you. Only you.”

  As she tried to catch her breath, as she tried to catch the heart that seemed to have fallen to her knees, Marc stood there, one arm braced on the wall by her head, his face twisted in a brooding, challenging scowl. I love you…

  She’d heard that.

  I love you…

  Just you…

  Only you…

  The rest of it was still a jumble of words her brain struggled to make sense of, but those words, she understood.

  “Damn it,” he said, his voice a harsh, ragged demand. “Say something.”

  Chaili didn’t know what to say. Licking her lips, she opened her mouth, but nothing wanted to come out. He’d said it…the words she’d held trapped inside her for so long, he’d just said them to her. Shaken, she reached up and cupped his face in her hands, stroking one thumb across the curve of his lower lip. The rasp of stubble scratched against her palm.

  I love you…

  “If you don’t say something in the next five seconds, I’m going to go out of my mind,” he said, his voice easy, almost level now. And his eyes were still burning as he stared down at her. “I just wanted you to know that.”

  A laugh bubbled out of her and she wrapped her arms around him. “Damn it, can you just give me a minute? I’ve only been waiting to hear you say that for half my life.”

  He shuddered, cuddling her close. Feeling that lean body against hers, feeling it tremble, she slid a hand under his shirt, stroked his back. “This is real, right?” she whispered. “You’re serious?”

  Marc pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been this serious about anything. Except…”

  “Except what?” She lifted her head, staring at him.

  Golden eyes bored into hers. A faint grin crooked his lips and he shrugged. “Well, if you keep trying to run away from me, I’m going to do something desperate. Like shackle you to me or something.”

  A half hysterical giggle escaped her. “Okay. No more running,” she whispered, leaning in. She lifted her hands, cradling his face and pressing her lips to his. She wanted to remember each and every moment. Treasure each and every moment. Find a way to commit it all to memory. The feel of the stubble rasping against her palms. The intensity of his eyes, even the biting impatience she could see in his gaze. “No shackles needed, Marc. I’ve been waiting right here…for years. I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you.”

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  Author’s Note

  Inspired by Marc Cohn’s Walking in Memphis and The Scar Project… www.thescarproject.org

  You can always come home. Second chances come a little harder.

  Jesse’s Girl

  Previously Titled A Forever Kind of Love

  © 2011 Shiloh Walker

  Jesse and Zoe were the high school golden couple. Football captain, cheerleader, prom royalty. After graduation, though, Jesse couldn’t resist the urg
e to experience life outside their small town. He didn’t exactly expect Zoe to wait twelve years for him, but now that he’s back, he finds some small part of him hoping she did.

  It’s no big surprise she’s married. The kick in the face is she married his best friend.

  Zoe was devastated when Jesse left, but she’s filed those bittersweet memories under “Moved On”. She loves her life, and loves her husband. She has all she needs. And Jesse keeps an honorable distance.

  One cold, wet, miserable day, tragedy turns Zoe’s world upside down. Jesse never expected her to simply fall into his arms, but a man can dream. Except his dream doesn’t include the fact that this time, she’s the one hitting the road…and he’s the one left behind.

  Warning: This story contains heartbreak, heartache and one last chance for two lovers to find each other.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Jesse’s Girl

  Previously Titled A Forever Kind of Love

  Staring at the bag of books, Jesse tried to tell himself to just leave it on the porch and get back in his car.

  Instead of doing that, which was probably the smarter thing, he knocked on the door. Hell, he knew Roger needed a distraction and he’d just gotten some new political thrillers in that were just up the guy’s alley—and two of them were audio books.

  Zoe’s favorite urban fantasy author had a new book out.

  Books were a nice distraction at any time, right?

  It wasn’t like he didn’t have a good reason for swinging by.

  Ever since he’d found out about Roger’s diagnosis, the petty anger he’d harbored against his friend… Well, Jesse had realized just how fucking petty it was, and he’d shoved it straight where it needed to go, out of his heart, out of his mind.

  They might never have the friendship they’d had in high school, but they were friends and right now, both Zoe and Roger needed all the friends they could get.

  And Jesse needed to be there for both of them as much as he could.

  Besides, his dad was worrying about him too. Ever since Roger had turned in his resignation, the old man had come by as often as he could, but it was now re-election time and instead of visiting every couple of days, he could only get by once a week or so and Jesse had promised he’d come by today.

 

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