Little White Lies

by Lizzie Shane

  She might not ever say she loved him, but she showed him when he stopped pushing for more long enough to see it. She might keep pulling him in and pushing him away. They might be on-again-and-off-again for the rest of their lives. That would be okay. She was worth it.

  She had to be all right. She was his whole heart.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Ren’s heartrate decreased substantially when he pulled up in front of Elite Protection and immediately spotted Hank sitting by himself at the outdoor patio across the street. He parked his bike and dialed Candy’s number, already heading across the street to have a little chat with the Hammer.

  “Ren? What are you doing?”

  Not exactly the greeting he’d expected. “I just pulled into the EP lot. I’m headed over to talk to Hank.”

  “I can see you on the surveillance feeds,” she reminded him. “We should have a signal if you need backup.”

  “You aren’t going to try to talk me out of talking to him or convince me you should do it yourself?”

  “You wanted me to ask for help. I’m giving that a shot.”

  Who are you and what have you done with Candy Raines? “What kind of signal were you thinking?”

  “How about you lean back and stack both hands behind your head? I won’t be able to miss that.”

  “Sounds good,” Ren agreed—though he had no intention of using that signal unless Hank pulled a weapon.

  He told the hostess he was meeting someone and strode past her, making a beeline through the restaurant and out onto the patio where Hank was lingering over his steak. He didn’t wait for an invitation, pulling out the chair opposite him and throwing himself down onto it while Hank frowned, probably trying to place his face.

  “What are you doing here, Hank?”

  “Do I know you?”

  Ren smiled and it wasn’t pretty. “I’m a friend of Candy Raines. You wanna answer my question?”

  Hank waved to his partially consumed cow. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m having dinner.”

  “And the only place you could think of to have dinner was an outdoor patio directly across the street from the Elite Protection offices when it’s ninety degrees in the shade and this restaurant has plenty of nice air-conditioned tables inside?” He tapped a finger on the table, making a conscious effort not to punch Hank’s smug face. “You aren’t just violating the restraining order that says you can’t be within fifty yards of the Elite Protection offices, you’re doing it flagrantly so she’ll know you’re watching her.”

  Hank smiled. “We both know she didn’t mean that restraining order bullshit. That was all Max’s idea. Covering his ass. But Candy and I—”

  “There is no Candy and you.” Ren realized his hand had fisted on the table and forcibly relaxed his fingers. “She turned you down when you asked her out.”

  Hank laughed. “It’s all about the chase. Women like to play hard to get.”

  “No. They don’t. That’s just something assholes like you tell yourselves so you have carte blanche to harass them. This isn’t a movie. You aren’t James Bond. Saying no isn’t her way of telling you to try harder. Calling me to tell you to back the fuck off isn’t part of the game. Changing her phone number wasn’t something she did to be cute when you were calling her all the time—”

  “I wasn’t calling her that much—”

  “You’re a predator, Hank.”

  “Oh please.” The Hammer snorted. “You can’t really believe that bullshit.”

  “You’re the guy she can’t get to leave her the fuck alone. At what point did lurking outside her work, waiting for her to get off so you can follow her home seem like a good idea? That isn’t a courting ritual. That isn’t romance, asshole. That’s stalking. Instead of telling yourself she secretly wants you, why don’t you go find some woman who does? You’re a freaking celebrity. It can’t be that hard.”

  “You’re right. I am a celebrity,” Hank declared smugly. “Which means I can have anyone I want and I want Candy.”

  “Tough shit,” Ren snapped. “She doesn’t want you. And if you try to make her do something she doesn’t want, the rest of the guys from Elite Protection are going to have to get in line behind me to take you apart.”

  Ren had never shot a person before. He’d always thought of himself as a pacifist, but he was downright excited by the idea of putting one in Hank.

  “Candy Raines is off-limits. Understand?” It was tempting to thump his chest and declare that she was his, but this wasn’t about him. Or even about Candy. It was about the Hammer and his obsession.

  “I think that’s between her and me—”

  “You want to hear it in her own words?” Ren pulled out his phone and brought up the voicemail. “This is what she thinks of you.”

  “Ren, hey, it’s me. That asshole the Hammer is back again, lurking outside Elite Protection like Lurch from the Addams family—”

  Something passed over Hank’s face—but it wasn’t contrition or even awareness. It was irritation. Anger. Ren stopped the recording before Hank could get any more pissed at Candy, suddenly acutely aware of what she’d been dealing with for the last six months. Trying to talk reason to Hank the Hammer was like arguing with a block of cement.

  Or like talking to Javi—someone so deeply embroiled in his own image of himself he was completely disconnected from reality.

  But maybe Ren could use that.

  Threats hadn’t done any good. Reason had no effect. Even proving that Candy didn’t want him hadn’t made an impact. But thanks to his recent experiences with his uncle, Ren had a new card to play.

  “We have surveillance footage.”

  “So what?” The Hammer mocked. “You gonna go bitching to the police that I’ve violated the restraining order? You think they’re going to give a shit?”

  “Actually, I was thinking we’d go straight to the press. It’d make a good story, don’t you think? The big bad Hammer pining like a pussy outside the door of his unrequited love? Do you think Candy saved any of the messages you left her? Telling her how you can’t stop thinking about her? What do you think your fans would think of that, macho man? You think they’ll still want to watch you kick ass on the silver screen once they know what a delicate little flower you are in real life?”

  Hank’s face tightened. “You’ve made your point.”

  “Have I?” Finally. “Stay away from Candy. Stay away from Elite Protection. Avoid us like the plague or I’ll make sure that story goes viral.” He smiled, the expression far from pretty. “I recently came into a little fame of my own. I think the tabloids would be very interested in anything I have to say right now, don’t you?”

  Hank shrugged, his attention on his steak. “She’s not that hot.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.”

  *

  “What did he say?”

  Ren stood in the doorway of Candy’s office, his face still tight with anger and something else she couldn’t identify. “He doesn’t think you’re that hot after all.”

  She blinked. “Seriously?” After six months of telling her they were meant to be, it sounded too easy. “Do you think he meant it? He’s going to back off? Just like that?”

  “Maybe.” Ren shrugged. “I threatened his image. Made sure he knew we’d paint him as a pussy in the tabloids if he tried to get near you again. He seemed a little rattled by that and told me he didn’t want you after all to try to save face—as if I would believe that after he’d gotten through telling me you were secretly in love with him. But maybe something finally got through.”

  “That guy has a screw loose.” She frowned. “Did you seriously just solve this whole bullshit drama with one conversation?”

  He shrugged. Like it was nothing. “I know you hate that you needed someone else to talk to him, but any contact from you would have only encouraged him. Hank is the kind of dipshit who only hears yes when women are talking. Doesn’t make you any less of a badass because that dickhead needed to hear no from
me.”

  “I guess,” she agreed, trying to identify the feeling swirling in her chest. Not quite relief. Something sharper than that. Everything she might have felt regarding the possible resolution of the shit show with the Hammer was being swallowed up in the achy, half-sad joy of seeing Ren again. “I’ve missed you.”

  She hadn’t meant to say that. And as soon as his face tightened even more, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

  “Can we talk?” she pleaded, hoping to stop him before he could run out of her life.

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Candy…”

  “Please? I’ve been going to a therapist.” She didn’t know why she’d blurted that out, but he hesitated and she kept going, words rushing out. “I have all these hang-ups, right? I knew I needed to change, but you couldn’t be the one to change me—”

  “I never wanted to change you.”

  “Yes, you did,” she argued, though her tone was calm. “I wanted to change me too. I just didn’t know how. That’s why I’m trying to learn.”

  He nodded. “Good.” He waved a hand at her, the gesture encompassing her from head to toe. “Is that why you aren’t doing any more disguises?”

  “I’m trying just being me on for size.” She fidgeted, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She’d highlighted it, taken it a lighter blonde, and tugged it into a simple ponytail. Dr. Rosenthal had suggested that she start with something that felt neutral to her and then add personal touches that felt like her. She wore simple black slacks and a white, tailored button-down, but her earrings were large and funky and her shoes were the sexiest stilettos in her closet. She’d started thinking about getting a tattoo for real—not one of the fake ones she applied for effect. “It doesn’t mean I won’t still do the different looks, but I think I was relying on them too much. Hiding behind them. I’m trying to hide less.”

  He nodded and something softened in his face. “It looks good on you.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, the words catching in her throat. The expression on his face, as much as his words, gave her the courage to go on. “I know you wanted to be the one to help me with all my baggage, but you couldn’t be. Whenever you pointed out my issues, all I felt was…ashamed.”

  His face tightened again. “I never wanted to make you feel that way—”

  “I know, but I did. I got defensive with you and I would panic every time you pushed me for more—but when my therapist pushes me, it’s different. It helps, you know?”

  He nodded, though she could see that he didn’t know. Not yet.

  How could she explain that it had to be her choice? That every time he’d wanted something she didn’t feel capable of giving him, she’d been so ashamed that she couldn’t be what he needed? That every time he’d asked for more, she’d felt like less.

  “The problem wasn’t in our relationship. I loved our relationship. The problem was in me. And you couldn’t be the one to fix that. I had to do it myself. I never felt like I deserved you—”

  “Candy—”

  “It wasn’t anything you did. It was who you were. You were this amazing man. Kind and caring and generous and smart and handsome. You were everything and I always worried that someday you would figure out you were too good for me. That you could do better.”

  He stepped over the threshold, but only came a couple steps into her office. “Candy…”

  “I’ve felt like I was damaged since I was twelve years old—not just because of what happened to me and how it broke my trust, but because I carried around this incredible guilt. Like I could have done more. Like it was my fault we were taken. My fault they brought me back first—which is irrational, I know, and I’m working through that, but I was scared you would see through my bullshit and realize I wasn’t worthy of you.” She swallowed thickly. “I’ve been living by fear for a long time. Too long. Afraid to want things—it always amazed me how easy that was for you.”

  Ren snorted. “You think loving you was easy?”

  She shook her head. “That isn’t what I meant. I just meant you never let the fear stand in the way of going after things. I used to think it was because you always got everything you wanted, but now I think it’s just that you’re braver than I am. But I’m going to try to be brave like you.”

  And there was no time like the present to start. She swallowed down a sudden rush of nerves. Say it. Don’t chicken out now.

  “My therapist gave me some homework a couple days ago. She asked me to write down five things I would want if I didn’t have to be scared of losing them or not getting them.” She forced herself to meet his eyes without flinching. “You were number one on that list.”

  She saw the shock in his eyes—she’d never said anything like that to him, and she felt immediately guilty for that, but squashed the feeling with the words she should have said years ago. “I love you, Ren. I kind of suck at it, but I do. I’m probably always going to be a romantic disaster. You have no idea how hard it was for me to say the L word out loud. Or how much it went against my instincts to call you for help when I saw Hank. All I’ve ever known how to do is push you away, but I’m trying. And I’m hoping that counts for something. I’m hoping you’ll take me back—though God knows you’ve already given me more chances than I deserve.” She looked at him hopefully, but he still didn’t speak. “Could you please say something?”

  He shook himself—and Candy’s heart stopped when his head moved side to side. No? But then he was moving, closing the distance between them. She held herself perfectly still, not daring to move until his hands lifted to cup her face and she squeaked, “Really?”

  “Candy,” he murmured. “The only thing I ever wanted to change about you was the way you kept pushing me away.”

  “I won’t do that anymore,” she gasped out on a breath.

  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Then he kissed her and her knees went weak. This. This was what love was. Taking a risk, leaping into the void—and having someone there to catch you. And trusting that he always would.

  *

  God, he’d missed her.

  It was incredible having Candy back in his arms, even if there was something different about her today. She was still his Candy, but her walls were down. He knew they might come back up again. He knew they might never be a traditional couple, but traditional was overrated. The idealized love his parents had was a mirage. What he had with her was real. And he would hold onto her as long as she would let him.

  When he lifted his head, he ran his thumb over her lower lip, looking into eyes so vulnerable and hopeful it made his chest ache. “I’m probably going to screw up,” he said. “I’m going to push you too fast and drive you crazy and you’re going to have to smack me and remind me that we have all the time in the world.” He quirked up the left side of his mouth in a half smile. “We do have all the time in the world, don’t we?”

  “We have forever,” she promised.

  He kissed her again. Just because he could.

  This was what he’d been looking for. The new phase of his life. The part where he was hers.

  “What else was on your list?” he asked, after several minutes of pleasant distraction.

  “What?”

  “The things you would want if you weren’t scared to want them. What else was there?”

  She shook her head once. “Just you. It was only ever you.”

  EPILOGUE

  “Just out of curiosity, exactly how wrong would it be to elope to Vegas and send my mother pictures after the fact?”

  Ren looked up from where he was setting up a barricade so Wicket couldn’t make another attempt to digest half a dozen Christmas ornaments in a single go. One frantic trip to the vet was more than enough and the dog continued to have an unhealthy fixation on the tree.

  “Extremely wrong,” her fiancé informed her as he jury-rigged a series of dog gates in a perimeter. “After the fake marriage thing, I think we pretty much have to do it in front of t
hem.”

  Stretched out on the couch watching him work, Candy lifted her hand to admire her ring. It was pink. She’d never thought of herself as a pink diamond kind of girl, but the ring was perfect. And not just because it was the ring his father had bought for his mother when they decided to tie the knot. It looked like a ring that could belong to a rock star’s wife, but Candy figured that fit because she’d felt like a rock star ever since Ren had slipped it on her finger two days ago.

  They’d just gotten home from Max’s Thanksgiving party when he popped the question. Ren had been jumpy all night and he was sweating more than she’d ever seen Ren Xiao Tate sweat, but then he dropped down on one knee and…

  Well, frankly, she didn’t remember what he said. She was pretty sure she said yes before he even got his speech out. She hadn’t hesitated for a second.

  She was getting a lot better at going after the things she wanted. She still went to Dr. Rosenthal once a week for maintenance, but it had been her idea that they move in together and her idea to put her condo on the market.

  “You know my mother is going to turn the wedding into an absolute fiasco,” Candy reminded him now. “We’re going to have to fight her every step of the way if we don’t want her inviting fifty of her favorite politicians to sit in the front row.”

  “We could sic Sidney on her,” Ren suggested. Max’s sister was quickly becoming the wedding planner to the stars. “I hear she’s good at managing the in-laws.” He straightened, jiggling the make-shift fencing to test its strength and backing away, admiring his work.

  “It’s not a bad idea. We could get married in Eden.” Candy reached up, snagging his hand and tugging him down onto the couch with her, surrounding herself with his warmth, his scent, everything good in the world right there in her arms. “My mother would probably love it if she could tell her DAR friends we got Once Upon a Bride to plan it. Not that she isn’t already dining out for the next five years on the fact that I’m marrying a rock star’s kid.”