Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) (12 page)

We found a bistro sized table with two empty chairs. We’d be able to see and talk to Carter when he came down. I pulled out a chair, and she thanked me as she took her seat. I scooted my own chair close enough that our thighs touched and rested my hand on the table beside hers. She kept it there a while but then moved it, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. I pretended to look for Carter, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her worrying that bottom lip between her teeth. My blood warmed imagining doing something similar to it with my own mouth. I held back a groan. At this rate, I was probably going to spontaneously combust before the week was up.

“Bridget?”

“Hmm.” She glanced over at me, seeming a bit distracted.

“Would you mind telling me what happened with Carter’s father?”

She went from distracted to tense as hell in a heartbeat.

“Don’t shut down.” I shifted closer and touched her hand. “And don’t shut me out. He obviously hurt you. I just want to understand.”

She looked down at my hand. After a moment, she nodded. “Richard Gilmore was someone I trusted.” Her posture remained rigid as she began, and her eyes slid to the side taking on a faraway glaze. I don’t think she even noticed the people passing through the double glass doors in front of her. “He was a college intern and worked for my stepmother in the marketing department. He was twenty-two when we met, but he treated me like we were peers. He was kind and thoughtful and seemed genuinely interested in me…in the beginning. But I soon found out it was all just an act.” Her gaze came back to me, the surface of her aquamarine eyes glittering with a lifetime’s worth of sadness. “As it turned out I wasn’t a very good judge of character.”

I could tell it was hard for her to share, and I didn’t like to see her upset. On the other hand, I was glad she was finally opening up to me. I curled my fingers around her delicate hand, encouraging her to continue.

“We dated in secret because of our age difference and because of who he worked for. He wove an irresistible web of lies around me, and talked up elaborate plans for our future together. I believed him. I believed all of it. I wanted so desperately to be loved. I told you how my dad married my stepmother when I was six. Well, what I didn’t tell you was that he pretty much forgot I existed after that. The only time I had his full attention was when he talked to me about work. His work was his true love you see, and I think he hoped one day to pass on the business to me. But he never got that far. He had a heart attack and died when I was twelve. After that, I tried everything to win the approval of my stepmother. Ballet, piano, track, cheerleading. No matter what I did, she didn’t care about me at all. In fact, I was never good enough for her. I can’t remember her ever saying a kind word to me. But Richard did. Loads of them. He knew just the right things to say. He told me I was beautiful.” Her already emotionally roughened voice cracked, and I watched her pause to swallow.

You are beautiful,
I thought, but after enduring years of that kind of rejection and neglect I now understood why she couldn’t see the truth of that.

“I was so gullible. Richard only wanted one thing. And after I gave it to him, he was gone, fast enough to make my head spin. When I realized months later that I was pregnant and tried to talk to him, he just laughed at me.” Her head went down, and her lip went back between her teeth. Her voice was so tiny I had to lean forward to hear her. “He said it was my problem. That I should’ve known better. That I should’ve been on the pill if I was going to be fooling around.” Her head lifted, and tears spilled from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “My biggest regret is the way I humiliated myself begging for his help. I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do or where I would go if he refused me, but he said…he said he wouldn’t want to be strapped with me if I was the last woman on earth, and that he’d never had a worse lay.”

That fucking asshole.
It was all I could do not to slam a fist into the table. If I ever ran into that piece of shit, I was going to put some major hurt on him. What kind of subhuman would treat a young impressionable girl that way? Use her and then break her like that. I pulled her off her chair and onto my lap. I felt her body sag into mine, and I wrapped my arms tighter around her, cradling her to my chest, wishing I had mystical powers to erase those awful memories.

“There’s more,” she whispered.

Holy hell.
This time I was the one who got tense.

“When I couldn’t hide the pregnancy anymore, I finally told my stepmother. Turns out she already knew. Richard had told her. Turns out they had much more than just a working relationship. Apparently, she was better in bed than I was. She gave me two choices: get an abortion or get out of her house. I got out. I wanted my baby. I never wanted anything more in my entire life. I wanted to give him the love I’d never had myself. But you know what the reality of the whole thing is?” She tilted her wet face back, her gaze locked unwaveringly with mine.

I shook my head.

“My baby’s only five, but he’s already given me more love than I could ever give him.”

She stunned me speechless. She was so fierce in her defense of her son. I found I had to fight back tears of my own as I ran my thumbs through the fresh trail of tears from her cheeks. She buried her face in my shirt and went silent. I stroked her silky hair, reeling from the emotional impact of what she’d shared.

I realized then that I’d been deluding myself with the whole friendship thing. My interest in Bridget Dubois went far beyond that.

I wanted something real and lasting with this woman. Deep inside I’d always dreamed of having a relationship like my parents had before my mom died, an all-out love of a life time affair with rings and commitment and everything. But I hadn’t thought I’d ever find the right woman, a woman with depth and complexity whose inner spirit complemented her outward beauty. Well, I’d found her alright, but I could see that one misstep would cost me any shot I had with her. I wouldn’t have the luxury of holding anything back in reserve. And I worried that even if I laid everything on the line, it still might not be enough.

“You know the rest.” I forced myself out of the tempting comfort of Justin’s warm arms and returned to my own seat. “I gave you the condensed version already.” The version I’d given to everyone else, including my grandmother and Lace. I’d never shared with anyone the hurtful things Richard said to me. It was humiliating, but I’d wanted to tell Justin for some reason. I guess I wanted him to understand why I was the way I was with men. Closed off. Suspicious. Guarded. And why there could never be more than just friendship between us.

I pulled myself together and completed the narrative of my messed up life. “If not for my grandmother, I probably would have ended up on the street.” Or with someone just as abusive as Lace had with Martin.

I pretended a casual shrug, but considering the sympathetic look he laid on me, I don’t think he bought it. “Anyway, I’ve had other bumps and bruises along the way. Done things I shouldn’t, but I always find a way to get back up somehow. Too stubborn to stay down, I guess.”

He continued to stare at me and I looked away. His intensity was unnerving. I told myself it was only wishful thinking that had me believing I’d seen admiration flickering inside his eyes.

“Meemaw was tough on me, but I could always count on her. She never once turned her back on me, even when she found out about the drugs. Sure she let me know she was disappointed in me and sent me right off to rehab, but she took care of Carter while I was in. She always doted on him.” She might never have been outwardly demonstrative with me, but she’d never held anything back with him.

I missed her
. More stupid tears welled up. They made their way down my face. I tasted the saltiness as it pooled between my lips and licked it away.

Through the glass doors, I saw a man and a woman with two children feeding the swans by the pond. A traditional family. They looked normal…happy. If only my life could have turned out like that. It would be so much easier with someone else to rely on.

For a long time, Justin and I remained silent, my thoughts weighed down by the heaviness of the past. Then suddenly, Carter dropped into the ball pit in front of me. His ringing laughter was like a life preserver that I willingly grabbed to pull myself out of my morose musings.

I managed a smile for him. He was my bright light. My beacon. I would do anything for him.

“Good night.” I closed the apartment door and turned, leaning heavily against it as Carter trudged on into the apartment, heading for his bath and bed.

I was in so much trouble.

Dinner had gone by like a scripted scene from a chick flick. Justin had been gracious and charming, sharing childhood stories about himself and Avery during appetizers and entrees and carefully coaxed embarrassing details about me from Carter during dessert.

All day long he’d focused on Carter and me. He’d been attentive and helpful and listened to my story about Richard as if nothing in the world was more important than figuring out what made me tick. After that, he’d seemed sensitive to my mood and had changed tactics in the way he treated me. He’d toned down the playful flirting. There’d been no more whispers in my ear telling me how beautiful I was or how much he wanted me, though I still caught him watching me with heated eyes.

I’d let down my guard with him countless times during the day. Instead of pushing him away which would have been wise, I’d let him come even closer. I’d never felt even a fraction of the level of emotional connection with Richard that I already felt with Justin. I’d been a starry eyed fifteen year old then. I was an adult now, old enough to know better. But with Justin I found myself foolishly willing to venture out onto the tight rope, over the open air without even bothering to check to make sure there was a safety net down below.

I sighed.

“That you, Bridget?” Lace’s voice carried out to the foyer.

“Yeah,” I answered, pushing away from the door and following the direction of her voice. I found her in the kitchen.

“You were out late.” Lace was filling two mugs with hot water. She raised a thoughtful brow when she saw me. “Everything go alright?”

“I guess.” I looked away from her assessing amber eyes and started to move toward my room. “I better make sure Carter gets ready for bed.”

“He just got in the tub. We both know he’ll be in there for a while. That boy’s got to be part fish. I’m making us chamomile tea. Why don’t you come into the living room with me and we’ll talk for a bit? Like we used to in rehab. I’ve missed that.”

I nodded my head in agreement. I needed a sounding board and I knew from experience that Lace was a good listener.

Lace removed the tea bags and handed me one of the steaming cups. We took them into the living room and settled side by side on the couch.

“Where’s Bry?” I asked.

“He’s taking a shower. He was on the phone earlier with his mom. Then he tried to call Warren again.” Her gaze slid away.