Beneath the Scars

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Beneath the Scars Page 18

by Melanie Moreland


  I could almost hear the resignation in his answer.

  Would you like to ask your friend if she wants to join us for dinner?

  I grinned as I typed.

  Can you handle that?

  His response was swift.

  At least that way I get to see you again. I’ll be polite.

  I looked up at Karen. “Now’s your chance to find out. Zachary wants to know if you’d like to join us for dinner. He promises to be polite.” I left out the other comments.

  “Well, this I have to see for myself,” she snorted.

  She’s looking forward to it. I typed, trying not to laugh. I knew he would read that and roll his eyes. Somehow I knew I would spend the evening refereeing the two of them.

  “I’m leaving early tomorrow. Do you want to come back with me?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ll come in the next day or so. I have to do a few things here, then I’ll drive myself in.”

  “Okay. Maybe you should stay at our place so Jared can’t get to you. Our building has great security.”

  “Good idea. I’ll go to my place and get some things. Tidy it up, since I left in such a hurry.”

  Karen stood up. “Okay. I’m going to shower and get ready for this big dinner.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You have to be polite, too.”

  “I will.”

  “You better.” Picking up our empty glasses, I headed for the kitchen. “I’m going to walk over and help him with dinner. Come over when you’re ready?” I called out as I texted Zachary to tell him I was on my way.

  I heard her laughing down the hall. “Help with dinner. Yeah. That’s a good one. I’ll knock before I come in this time.”

  I was chuckling as I walked onto the deck. My breath caught as I saw Zachary hurrying down his steps to the beach. The dogs were in front of him when they hit the sand. His steps never lagged as he began jogging toward me, and I descended to the beach, my own feet moving faster than normal.

  Soon, I was in his arms, held tight to his chest. Warm lips nuzzled the top of my head and I gripped his neck, happy to feel him close to me. I looked up at him, the emotion in his eyes catching me by surprise.

  “Hey.”

  His minty breath washed over me as he touched his mouth to mine in a series of small, light kisses. “Hi,” he whispered, relief evident in his voice. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “Did you think you wouldn’t?”

  His silence said it all.

  I brushed my mouth to his. “I missed you.”

  “How long ‘til we have company?”

  “About an hour, knowing Karen.”

  A surprised gasp left my lips as he swooped me up in his arms and began walking back to his house.

  “Good. We have some unfinished thank yous from earlier.”

  I giggled. “She said she’d knock this time.”

  “She’ll have to—I’m locking the door.”

  I sighed as I looked down at my plate again. I was beginning to believe Karen was right: they would never warm to each other. I looked between them in frustration. It didn’t help that Zachary was about as communicative with her as he had been with me the first day, answering most of her questions with grunts or brief yeses and nos. The fact Karen kept pushing him on things he obviously didn’t want to discuss was making him terse.

  I threw my napkin down, shoving my plate so hard, my wineglass tipped over. Luckily, it was empty, but the noise drew both their gazes toward me. “Could the two of you try, please? For me?”

  Karen’s eyebrow rose as I addressed her. “Why don’t you ask him about his paintings, or his photography?” I waved my hand around the room. “He took most of these photos.” I pointed to the mantle. “That painting? That’s the one I saw the day in the gallery before we met.” My voice softened as I smiled at Zachary. “I fell in love with him because of that painting.”

  He ducked his head with a shy grin on his face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. His smile fell when I shook my head at him. “And you. Karen is my best friend. She asks a lot of questions, all the time—it’s not only you. You have a voice—a lovely one, in fact. Use it. Answer her—maybe even ask her a few questions. The two of you might be surprised how much you have in common.” I stood up, taking my plate. “You both love me, maybe that’s a good place to start.” Spinning on my heels, I walked into the kitchen, slamming my plate down and grabbing the coffee pot.

  “Well, I guess we were told,” Zachary’s voice drawled from the dining room.

  “You are rude,” Karen retorted.

  “Right back at you, lady. You’re exactly like the women I dealt with all my life. Bitchy.”

  I groaned, my head falling into my hands. They were both impossible.

  To my surprise, Karen chuckled. “That’s my cover. Owning my own business, I have to be a bitch at times. And I kind of like being a bad-ass.”

  There was a pause before Zachary spoke again. “Is it a hard thing, owning your own place?”

  I straightened up. That was the first real question Zachary had asked all night.

  “At times. Suppliers, landlords, staff, maintenance. There’re times I wish I was simply a hair dresser again, and not running the place.”

  “Megan is a customer of yours?”

  “Yes, that’s how we met. We got to talking and became friends.” She paused. “I love her like a sister.”

  Zachary was quiet, his voice warmer when he spoke. “I love her, too.”

  “You better not hurt her.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Then don’t. It’s that simple. I can’t let her be hurt again. That asshole did a number on her.”

  “I’d be glad to take him to task for that.”

  “I’d join you.”

  I heard their wineglasses clink and like an idiot, I clasped my hands together in a silent sign of glee, waiting to see how they proceeded.

  “If your customers look half as good as she does when they leave your place, you must be very good at your job.”

  “I am good.”

  “Modest as well, I see.”

  “I call it how I see it.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  At least they were talking.

  Karen stretched and stood up from the table. “I’m off very early, so I’m heading home.” She glanced at me. “Should I say goodbye now?”

  Unsure how to answer, I hesitated. In truth, I knew I should go and stay the night with her since she had driven up here, but I really didn’t want to leave Zachary alone.

  I was surprised when Zachary spoke up before I could answer. “I’ll walk her over later. I’ll make sure she gets there safe.”

  Karen pursed her lips, her voice almost teasing. “What about me, Zachary? Don’t you want to make sure I get there safe? Or is Megan the only one you think some sea monster is going to attack?”

  Zachary leaned back, a small grin playing on his lips. “I think you could probably handle a sea monster your own bad-ass self, Karen, but if you like, I’m happy to walk you home.” Then he smirked at her.

  Smirked.

  I thought my jaw was going to hit the floor. They sounded almost…friendly.

  Karen’s eyebrow arched—a look I knew all too well. “You don’t think Megan could handle a sea monster?”

  Zachary’s voice sent shivers through my spine. “She could—but she doesn’t have to. That’s my job now.”

  Karen blinked, looked at me, then blinked again.

  “Well, then, I guess there’s nothing else to say.”

  She stopped at the door. “Are you sure you won’t come back with me tomorrow, Megan? You really have to stay?”

  Beside me, Zachary froze. I closed my eyes, inwardly cursing. I hadn’t yet talked to him about me going back to Boston. We’d barely managed to get dressed before Karen arrived for dinner.

  Slowly, he unfurled himself from the sofa, his voice quiet when he spoke. “Are you certain, Megan? I’m sure whatever is keeping you here
can’t be that important if you’re ready to return to Boston.”

  I stood up, my heart sinking at his words. He thought I was leaving him. Looking past him, I smiled at Karen, struggling to remain calm. “I’m sure. I’ll only be in Boston a few days when I come, and I don’t have that meeting set up.”

  She shrugged, totally oblivious to the turmoil she had caused. “Okay then, thought I’d try. The drive is always nicer with two people.” She drew on her sweater. “Thank you for dinner, Zachary.”

  He moved past me, avoiding my touch. “I’ll let the dogs out and watch you to make sure you arrive home safely.”

  The door closed, shutting off her laughter.

  I walked to the kitchen, automatically straightening up, needing to stay busy, my mind racing. His first instinct—his first thought—had been I was leaving. He still couldn’t accept he was loved or he came first to someone. He actually thought I would walk away from him.

  My head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. When Zachary appeared in the kitchen, I shut the door to the dishwasher and turned to face him. I expected anger and confusion on his face. I expected him to start yelling or to close in on himself, but all I saw was sorrow. His eyes were resigned, his shoulders slumped as we stared at each other.

  He was composed—too composed. “You’re leaving.”

  I stepped forward. “Karen shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “She probably thought you told me.” There was no doubt I was hearing some hurt in his voice.

  “I only decided this afternoon when I spoke with her. I was going to tell you.” I smiled, trying to get him to understand. “You, ah, had me pretty busy before she arrived.”

  A glimmer of a smile appeared on his mouth, but then he shook his head and frowned. “Why, Megan? Why are you going back there?”

  I stepped closer until we were almost touching. “I’m not leaving you, Zachary.”

  He started to speak, but I cut him off.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I stated clearly. I needed him to understand.

  “What are you doing, then?”

  “I have to go back and meet with Jared. Then I’ll be back. ”

  His composure disappeared. “What? Why the fuck would you want to do that?”

  “I have to put this behind me.”

  “Fine. I’ll give you the money for a lawyer and they can fight it for you. Hire experts to prove he is lying.”

  “I’m not fighting it. I’m walking away.”

  “You can’t do that. You have other options.”

  My eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t have other options. I can and I am. It’s my decision.”

  “He stole your work.”

  “Yes, he did, and without me accepting his payout or recanting my story, he might not get it published.” I shrugged. “We both lose.”

  “Fight it! I’ll give you the money! I have plenty!”

  “I don’t want your money!” Weeks of pent up anger exploded, and suddenly I was yelling. “It’s a lost cause, Zachary! He has the book—my notes—even my fucking ideas about the cover! He has it all! I worked for him! Slept with him! Do you know how this all looks to people?” I paused, dragging in a deep breath. “His story is airtight! He told me about the book. He showed me the chapters. He even managed to show a date line! He’s an established, successful author. I’m the ex-girlfriend who’s doing this because she’s bitter about the breakup and wants to make a name for herself, since she’s trying to become a writer.” I sat down on the chair in front of him, tired. “There’s nothing to fight. It’s done.” I looked up at him. “I’m only going to finish it. Please understand.”

  He kneeled in front of me, cupping my face. “I hate the bastard.”

  “I’m not so fond of him myself. I can’t take your money, Zachary.”

  He nodded in understanding. “I don’t want you to go.”

  I wrapped my hand around his, stroking the hardened flesh tenderly. “I have to. I’ll only be gone a few days.”

  “You’ll come back?”

  I nodded. “I’ll bring a few more things with me.”

  “Megan”—he hesitated—“does your decision not to fight this have anything to do with me?”

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “I’d already made up my mind for the most part, but it factored into my final decision. I won’t risk your privacy.”

  His fast intake of air and the way his hands tightened on my skin made me open my eyes. “I hate you’re giving up because of me.”

  “I’m not giving up. I’m moving on. Don’t ask me to change my mind, and don’t be angry with me, please.”

  “Anger isn’t what I’m feeling right now.”

  I searched his face. “What is?”

  His mouth hovered over mine. “Love. Only love, Megan.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I inhaled the clean ocean air. I would miss the smell, even if it was only for a few days. My small bag was packed and I was ready to go, even though I really didn’t want to. I wanted to let Bill handle it, tell Jared I refused his “generous” offer, and stay here with Zachary.

  I had to confront him myself, though. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized he wasn’t getting his way, and I wouldn’t be bullied. I didn’t care what happened with the book now—if it got published or not was irrelevant at this point. I was going to move ahead, in Cliff’s Edge with Zachary. Together, we’d find our own path and when I was ready, I would try writing again. More than once, Zachary had hinted at me staying close to him. He had reminded me Ashley hired staff in the busy summer months at the gallery and the hours were flexible, which would leave lots of writing time. Karen told me I could stay here at her beach house as long as I needed. My lease was up on my apartment in the fall, and the thought of living here was a far more pleasant one than staying on in Boston. It would be a fresh start. Dixie loved it here, too.

  Her excited little bark made me turn my head to see Zachary and Elliott coming toward us. Dixie turned in frantic little circles of excitement as they came closer. I giggled as I realized, if I could, I would do the same thing when I saw Zachary. He was almost larger than life, striding toward me, his overcoat billowing out behind him, stretched taut across his broad shoulders. My stomach did strange little flip flops every time I saw him. The longing to feel his arms around me grew with every step he took closer, and a small sigh of pent up emotion escaped my lips when I was wrapped up in his embrace.

  “Ready to go?” he asked, his voice rough.

  I tightened my arms around his waist. “It’s only a few days. I’ll come back as quick as I can.”

  “I know.” His lips nuzzled my hair. “You’re sure about Dixie?”

  I tilted my head back. “Yes. I’m staying at Karen’s and I’ll be busy. If she’s here with you, she’ll be happier and I won’t worry.”

  “And you’ll come back.”

  I tamped down my frustration at his words. He still couldn’t accept I’d come back anyway. I reminded myself he needed time. The longer I was with him, the more comfortable he would become, and he would accept this was real. We were real. I kept my voice patient. “I am coming back, Zachary. Even if I took Dixie with me, I’d come back. I’m coming back for you. For us.”

  His mouth covered mine, his kiss hard and desperate. He surrounded me, molding my body to his as he wrapped us both in his coat, seeking the reassurance my touch would give him. Slowly, the kiss morphed into a tender, gentle one of farewell, and he released me with a quiet exhale of air.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  I swallowed back the unexpected sting of tears. I didn’t want to leave either.

  “Hey.”

  I looked up at him, his expression one of surprise. “Don’t cry, Megan.” He wiped away a small tear under my eye. “I’ll be right here, waiting. Hurry back to me.”

  I wanted to ask him to come with me, but I knew that wasn’t possible. So, I nodded and forced a smile. “I know.”

  W
e were quiet as I slid into the car. Zachary kneeled beside the open door. “Drive safe. Call me when you get there.”

  “I will.”

  He dropped a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering, his expression forlorn. “I’ll miss you.”

  He shut my door, and without a backward glance, walked away. I knew he was fighting his emotions, and all his doubts were messing with his head. He still didn’t believe he mattered enough. I wasn’t sure he even understood what that meant. So accustomed to rejection and being used, his insecurities crippled him. The cold, indifferent face he showed to the world was a far cry from the unsure, caring soul he kept hidden.

  I knew I had to be patient. I hoped with time he would realize it. Once enough time passed and his trust grew, he would know how much he meant to me. His first instinct wouldn’t be one of distrust and worry, but rather the assurance that came with the acceptance of love. My love for him. One day we’d get there—together.

  His tormented, worried eyes haunted me the whole drive back to the city.

  I wished for Zachary’s presence beside me as I faced Jared in the boardroom at his lawyer’s office. Both Bill and I would have preferred the meeting elsewhere, but in the end, we had agreed to meet here. I hardly slept last night and hadn’t been able to even look at breakfast, my stomach was so tied in knots. We were kept waiting, which only increased my anxiety, and more than once, I realized I was tugging on my ears, trying to remain calm. I caught my reflection in the mirrored tile on one wall and grimaced at how bright pink the right lobe had become.

  Jared’s arrogant stance and nasty attitude were even more obvious than the last time I had seen him as he strode into the room, a smug look on his face. He was sure I was coming to sign his offer and disappear, so he could move ahead with his plans. When Bill informed him I would not be accepting the deal and refused to withdraw my claims the book was mine, he became angrier, addressing me directly, even as his lawyer tried to override him.

  “Take the damn money and sign, Megan,” Jared hissed through clenched teeth.

  “No.” I shook my head, refusing to back down or show him fear. “I’m not taking your payout. I can’t fight you, but I’m not going to let you take my work.”

 

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