The Embrace Series: Romantic Suspense Box Set
Page 13
She pulled the borrowed cell phone out of her pocket and thumbed the buttons. He was thoughtful and caring—that was clear in the way he treated her. He also liked to make all the decisions.
His single dimple flashed in her head, making her smile. She hated to admit it, but she missed him. The stillness of the house bothered her when it’d never bothered her before. With a grimace, she hit the speed dial button to call him.
“Sarah, what’s wrong? You okay?” he asked when he answered the phone.
“Ah—yeah, fine. What are you doing?” She curled into the sofa with the phone tucked under her ear.
“Everything’s okay?”
“Yes, fine, stop freaking out.”
“If nothing is wrong, why are you calling?”
“Oh, ah...when are you coming back with Jamie?”
The line went silent for a moment, and at first Sarah thought she lost the connection.
“So—you miss me, huh?”
She heard the smile in his voice. “Shut up—I’m going to hang up on you.”
“No, don’t hang up.” He snickered. “We’re done with homework. Do you want us to come over now?”
“Yeah, whenever you’re ready.” Geez—mental head smack! How stupid of her to try for breezy now.
He laughed. “Okay, we’re on our way.”
Sarah stood and clasped her hands behind her back to keep from fidgeting when Mark came in with Jamie. She felt a little silly for being nervous, but for some reason, meeting Mark’s son was different than being with her students.
After spending so much time with Mark, she felt like she already knew Jamie, but Jamie didn’t know her at all. What if he didn’t like her? What if he hated teachers, or didn’t want to share his dad with a woman? Would Mark reject her if Jamie didn’t like her? Jamie had already been through so much with his parents, would her being in his life add to the stress already brought on by their divorce? Did it matter? It’s not like she was dating Mark, even if it might appear that way to the outside world.
Was she overthinking this? Probably. She did a mental eye roll and smiled at Jamie, determined to focus on having a good time.
“Hello,” Mark said with a smug smile, reminding Sarah of their conversation on the phone.
She returned his grin even when she didn’t want to. She couldn’t help herself. He was right, she had missed him while he was gone.
“Hi.”
“Sarah, this is Jamie.” He waved a hand at Sarah. “This is Ms. Jennings.”
“No, call me Sarah. It’s nice to meet you.” Jamie’s eyes darted to her face before dropping to her feet.
“Oh fine—clam up now, you wouldn’t stop talking on the way over here.”
Jamie’s cheeks turned bright pink.
“Can you say hi to Sarah? You don’t want to hurt her feelings, do you?”
She looked from Jamie to Mark. “That’s okay. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.”
“Where would you like to go for dinner?” Mark asked.
“Your choice, I’m not picky.” She tried not to stare at Jamie—his smile was identical to his dad’s, only smaller.
“Hey, buddy, why don’t you go sit down and watch TV until it’s time to go.” Mark walked over and turned the TV on and handed Jamie the remote control.
Before he turned, Sarah got a good look at those beautiful, dark blue eyes. He had light brown hair that was cut short and parted on the side, neatly combed in place. She could see a sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Big for an eight-year-old...eight years old. She closed her eyes when butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
Would my child have been like Jamie?
Would she be healthy, strong, and beautiful?
Would she take after me?
Sarah opened her eyes and looked into Mark’s. “I...I’ll be right back.”
When the bathroom door closed behind her, she sat down on the edge of the bathtub, taking deep breaths. What is your problem? Geez—get over it.
She stood up when Mark tapped on the door.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah—fine.”
“Are you sure. Can I come in?”
“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute. You guys can figure out where we’re going for dinner.”
“Okay...,” he said, and finally walked away several seconds later.
She splashed water on her face and stood for minute, staring in the mirror.
She didn't look like herself. The zombie complexion and hollow eyes made her want to cry. When did she stop caring about her appearance? Why did she let everything slide from her grasp? Her expression turned stony, and she wanted to slap the weak woman in the mirror staring back at her.
With a decided nod, she began applying her makeup and working on her hair. The process relaxed her, as if applying the war paint had given her a shield to hide behind.
Mark had never seen her with makeup. The realization surprised her. She’d easily opened up to him, which was completely out of character for her. She pictured him in the diner parking lot, after leaving the beach. She'd wanted his strength wrapped around her like she'd never wanted anything in her life before. That scared her more than she wanted to admit.
She glanced at her reflection again. The last time she’d made any effort to look halfway decent had been the morning before her attack.
No—no, no thinking about that tonight. Okay, only happy thoughts for the rest of the evening.
Less than twenty minutes later, she took one last look and plastered a smile on her face.
When she opened the door, Mark was perched on her bed waiting for her. From his position, he could watch Jamie and still see the bathroom door.
She smiled at him. “Sorry to make you wait.”
He stood and walked toward her. “You okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You’re beautiful.” His tense expression didn’t soften when he said it and that made her nervous.
“Thanks, you too,” she stammered, “no—I mean." She shook her head to clear it. "Not beautiful, you look good. Fatherhood works for you...he’s sweet, like his dad.”
They stood facing each other for a long moment before Mark said, “When you left the room you looked upset.”
“I’m fine...I need to change my clothes. Jamie must have seen the bruises on my arms.” She looked down at her wrists to avoid his eyes.
“I’m sure he didn’t notice...but you should be wearing your sling.” He took her hand and rubbed at the yellowing bruises on her wrist. He held her hand up to examine it. “They’re finally fading.”
“Yeah, and the scratches on my face are almost gone.” She reached up and lifted the hair off her forehead to show him.
His expression changed, and he ran his finger across her eyebrow. “How did you get this scar? That’s not recent, is it?”
“I got punched in the face.” When the words left her mouth, she knew she shouldn’t have said them.
His eyebrows snapped together. “Someone punched you?”
“Yeah, can you believe it?” She forced a chuckle, hoping he’d laugh it off too. “He split my face wide open, bled like crazy.”
She turned toward her closet, holding the smile on her face...but damn, she’d said too much.
His voice went hard. “Are you telling me a guy hit you in the face?”
Without turning, she could picture his expression. She closed her eyes. Stupid, stupid woman. When she turned, his face was set and dangerous, exactly like she'd expected.
“It’s not a big deal.”
They both knew it was a lie.
“Son of a bitch. I thought you were going to tell me you fell and hit your head when you were a kid. Who the hell hit you, Sarah?” His teeth clenched when he said her name.
She waved him off. “It was a long time ago—it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter—goddammit!” He marched over and took her face in his hands to get a better look.
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Sarah felt the tension radiating through him as his quickened breath brushed her face. Mark rubbed his thumb over the scar until she reached up and touched his hand.
“It’s okay, really.” His concern touched her. She loved that he cared for her enough to be angry, but she felt bad for upsetting him.
“It. Is. Not. Okay.” He took a shuddering breath and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry someone hurt you.”
“Stop, I’m okay.” At first she stiffened at the embrace, but then melted into his warm chest. A lie would have been smarter. His question caught her off guard.
“I’m sorry, I’m stupid for telling you that,” she mumbled into his chest.
“No, don’t say that.” He pulled away and stared into her eyes. “You’re not stupid, don’t do that. It is not okay when someone hurts you, and you can talk to me about anything—you can trust me.”
“I’ll talk to you, but not tonight. I want to have a nice evening with you and Jamie. Now get out, I need to change my clothes.” She brushed him away, now thoroughly uncomfortable at the closeness.
Before closing the door, their eyes met for a brief moment, and Sarah felt the naked stare clear to her bones. She dropped down on the bed and rested her head in her hands, her stomach quivering with nervous energy. The things he did to her when he touched her. It’d been so long since anyone had stirred her like that.
Stop! Stop! Stop! Forget it, Sarah! He’s bad news—this is a bad idea. She hugged herself for a moment trying to get her bearings, and then she stood and finished getting ready.
It took her ten minutes to decide on what to wear. She appraised herself in the full-length mirror. The black, twill, tight-fitting pencil skirt tapered down her legs to below the knee with a nice, little, center slit in the back. The tops of her high-heeled black leather boots got lost behind the bottom of her skirt. To add a little color, she chose a deep blue, button-up blouse that tapered in at her waist.
“Dressy enough?” she whispered with a frown. “Definitely not that dressy.” But she didn’t have the time or energy to look for something nicer.
When she came out of the bedroom, Mark and Jamie were on the sofa watching TV together. Mark looked at her, and his jaw dropped in slow motion.
“What?” she asked, looking down, thinking she’d forgotten something important.
“Wow.”
“What?”
“You look incredible,” he said, wide-eyed.
She raised one eyebrow. “Hmm, you sound so surprised.”
“Ah—not surprised, struck dumb.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve never seen you in anything but jeans and sweats. I guess we better pick a fancier restaurant, Jamie.”
“Thank you, but anywhere is fine. I’m just happy to get out of the house, and you can hardly call this fancy.” She walked toward her coat closet, feeling self-conscious now.
“We were thinking about cheeseburgers.”
“I love cheeseburgers.” She smiled over her shoulder at Jamie. He blushed again and turned away.
Before she realized he’d gotten up, Mark was at her side, helping her with the jacket.
When he rested it on her shoulders, he whispered, “If you want to get his attention, let’s take the car.”
“I’ll get the keys if you move your truck.”
Five minutes later, Jamie stared at her car with a big grin, unable to hide his face now.
“Cool Shelby Mustang! Is this your car?” he said in a sweet, little boy voice.
Sarah nodded and Mark laughed.
“Well, check it out—I get to drive!” he bragged.
“Awesome,” Jamie said, looking up at his dad.
Mark was right, the car did it. Jamie started talking and didn’t stop until they were driving him back to Ali’s house.
Sarah realized when Mark asked Jamie if he was ready to go back to Mommy’s house that she’d have to tag along with them. Her stomach gave a nervous jolt, but she didn’t let Mark see her nerves. She’d had a good time with them and she felt good. It’d been a long time since she’d laughed so much.
She wasn’t surprised when Ali’s home turned out to be another big square track house in a new development. Boring.
Mark walked around the car to open Sarah’s door and then reached in and took her hand to help her out. When she was out, he lifted the seat for Jamie. She turned to get out of Mark’s way as a woman stepped out of the house.
The first thing Sarah noticed about Mark’s ex-wife was that she was beautiful, even with a large protruding belly. She expected a monster, having prejudged her for cheating on Mark. Instead, she faced a very pregnant blond, dressed in sweats with her long hair pulled into a ponytail.
Sarah, despite her prejudice, tried to plaster a smile on her face, determined to behave herself.
Mark turned and was surprised to find Ali behind him. She held her arms crossed above her belly and looked thoroughly annoyed.
“Oh—hi,” Mark said with the same big smile he’d worn most of the night.
“New car?” Ali looked at the car like it personally offended her.
“Ah...Sarah.” He looked over at Sarah. “This is Jamie’s mom, Ali. This is my friend, Sarah.”
He placed his hand on Sarah’s lower back when he introduced them.
“Hi.” Ali nodded at Sarah without uncrossing her arms.
Sarah smiled at her and said, “Hello,” in the sweetest voice possible.
“It’s Sarah’s car,” he said, not giving in to Ali's accusatory tone. “Okay, big guy, give me a hug. I’ll see you Friday night.” Mark reached down and grabbed Jamie in a big hug.
“Goodbye, Jamie, it was nice meeting you,” Sarah said, still using a sickly sweet voice.
When Mark came back to her side, they simultaneously reached out and grabbed each other’s hand. Sarah suppressed an evil chuckle as she watched Ali’s expression change from annoyed to pissed off.
“Bye, Sarah,” Jamie piped in before bouncing into the house.
Ali turned without saying anything.
“Bye, Ali,” Mark said.
Ali gave him a wave over her shoulder and entered the house.
When they were in the car, Sarah rested her hand over her mouth to hide the evil grin. “Sorry, I couldn’t help having a little fun with her.”
“Yeah, I enjoyed that a little too much, too.”
“How can she have the nerve to be jealous after what she did to you?” Sarah said with a little edge in her voice.
Mark steered the car away from the curb. “She’s usually much friendlier. I’m not sure what her problem is tonight.”
“I guess she hasn’t met any of the girls you’ve dated since the divorce?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “Maybe I should have rubbed it in a little sooner.”
“Does it bother you that she’s pregnant?”
He glanced at her briefly and said, “Yes.”
She felt a little pang with his admission but couldn’t find the words to respond.
“Wasted time." He exhaled a long breath. “I always wanted a big family.” He shrugged. “No big deal. If I only ever have Jamie, I can live with that too.”
“So you’re not still in love with her?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure I was ever truly in love with her.”
“What do you mean by that? You talk about her like you miss her.”
“We were kids when we got married—best friends. Should have stayed that way. We kind of got our lines crossed and neither of us had the nerve to give up.”
“Can men and women be just friends?” Oh God, had she said that out loud? What the hell was wrong with her mouth today? She could’ve smacked herself. Wasn’t she expecting that from him now? Friendship and nothing else.
He stared at her for a moment, and she knew she’d given him the wrong idea.
“You don’t think so?” he asked.
She pretended to consider her answer. “Yeah, I actually have lots of men friends.”
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br /> Of course they were all gay. Geez, this conversation was going downhill fast. Now she sounded like a hypocrite—or a slut at best.
Mark’s mouth tightened into a frown. “Was it a friend who gave you the scar?”
“No.” She snickered and rubbed her eyebrow. “Clearly he wasn’t friendly.”
“It’s not funny. Domestic violence isn’t funny.”
This time she snorted out a laugh. “You’re telling me.”
“You’re making light over the fact that someone you once loved and trusted punched you in the face. I don’t get the joke.”
“What else can I do? It happened. I can’t change the past. But don’t worry, you won’t find me in that position ever again.”
He chuckled now, though it lacked humor. “Oh...okay, now I understand.” He shook his head and bit on his lower lip. “That’s why you’re such a loner. You cut yourself off from people because some asshole couldn’t control his temper.”
“You shouldn’t assume I’m not happy with my life.”
“Why don’t you tell me what upset you—earlier when you met Jamie.”
She turned toward him. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw the expression on your face.”
“Let’s go inside,” she said, and reached for the door handle.
“What will it take to earn your trust? Why won’t you talk to me?”
“There’s nothing to talk about—nothing to break down and analyze. I’m only a victim of my own poor choices.”
“Bullshit, Sarah.” Mark shook his head and exhaled heavily. “That’s a famous line spoken by battered women all over the country. No man should ever hit a woman—no matter the reason.”
“It’s more complicated than that.” The heat from his anger radiated off him in waves. She wished she could open up to him. He had done a lot for her, but she didn’t trust herself to talk about this. The wall she’d built wasn’t strong enough to withstand letting him in and still maintain her own self-worth.
“Of course it is...” He pulled the door handle. “Let’s go inside. It’s been a long day.” He got out of the car and came to her door to open it for her.
When she stood and faced him, their eyes met and Sarah took the chance to ask him something that had bothered her since they’d left Ali's house.