Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
H er lips were soft against his, a faint taste of salt lingering from lunch. For a moment, he forgot about the dresser beneath his hand, forgot about the dozen projects waiting for attention. All he could feel was Beth, her warmth, the way her arms clung around his neck like she wasn’t letting go.
When she pulled back, he kept his forehead against hers, breathing her in. God, she was trouble. The good kind. The kind that made a man forget about keeping his heart locked down.
“You make this sound like more than it is,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along her cheekbone. “Half the time I’m just fixing broken legs and filling scratches.”
She shook her head, smiling up at him in that stubborn way she had.
“It’s not just furniture, Aaron. It’s you giving something a second life.
” She turned slightly away from him. “Ian used to destroy our furniture. Every time he got mad, he’d break something.
” She turned and glanced at him as he felt his temper rise.
“I’m nothing like—” he started, but she laid a finger gently over his lips.
“I know,” she sighed. “I… I’ve never told anyone about it.”
He nodded slowly. “Tell me.” He took her hand in his. “I’ll listen.”
She smiled weakly and then leaned against the dresser beside him.
“Up until our wedding day,” she started as she stared directly ahead, unseeing, “he played the role of a perfect gentleman. Since I’d been raised by a very strict Christian woman, I had never dated before him.
” She half glanced over at him. “I’d never been with a man before my wedding night.
” He nodded in understanding and she continued.
“In the limo on the way to the airport for our honeymoon was the first time he hit me. I chalked it up to wedding stress and nerves. Our honeymoon was, well, okay.” She shrugged.
“He picked the place, every single thing we did. He even ordered every meal for me so that I would understand who was in charge of my life now.” She sighed.
“He’s an ass,” Aaron said under his breath, and she chuckled.
“Yes, he is.” She sighed. “It was mostly little things at first. A slap. Controlling what I could eat. But it kept building until he was controlling which friends I could have, where I worked, what I bought.” She rolled her shoulders slowly.
“One day, after I’d picked up the remains of several lamps and a nightstand, I looked in the mirror and realized it wasn’t just the furniture he’d broken.
The bruises were always well hidden,” she continued.
“He never broke bones or gave me a black eye. He would grab my wrists, twist”—she glanced down at her skin—“leaving burn marks that he made me cover with long sleeves, even in the summer.”
“You’re so strong to stand against all that.” He took her hand gently in his, needing to show her that there was no way in hell he’d ever hurt her.
“Do you want to know what the final straw was that woke me up?” She turned towards him.
He nodded slowly, afraid to speak, afraid to find out the horrors Ian had done to her.
“A sweater.” She sighed and looked down at her hands.
“A stupid goddamned red sweater.” She sighed and closed her eyes.
“We had been invited to a Christmas party.” She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“At the camp. I was so excited that I went out and, without thinking, bought myself a new sweater. It wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t expensive, it was just something that I saw and wanted to wear to the party.
” She took a deep breath. “When I came out of the bedroom wearing it, Ian flew off the handle. An hour later, with my new sweater lying in pieces on the floor, I walked out of the house wearing the black dress he’d picked out for me, determined to leave him the next day. ”
He took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly.
“He can’t control you anymore.”
“I know. I’m free, but the fire seems like the sweater all over again. The things I’d spent the last few years buying and enjoying are all gone.”
“We can go shopping,” he suggested out of the blue. When she shifted slightly, he added quickly. “I know everyone bought you all of those things out of love, but… maybe we can head into town and you can pick out things for yourself?”
She smiled suddenly. “I’d like that.”
He hadn’t expected her smile to come so easily after everything she’d just confided in him, but when she agreed, something loosened in his chest. Maybe because it wasn’t just about clothes to her, it was about giving her the choice. And about her taking something back for herself.
The drive into Santa Rosa Beach was quiet at first. Beth rolled the passenger window down, letting the breeze whip strands of her hair free, her eyes on the horizon where the bay shimmered in patches of silver as they passed over the bridge.
He kept sneaking glances at her, noting the way the sunlight touched her profile, softening the lines worry had carved there.
The outlet mall spread wide, a maze of storefronts and bustling shoppers. Aaron found a spot near the edge of the lot and killed the engine.
“Where should we start?” she asked.
“Wherever you like. There’s no rush,” he said, meeting her eyes. “We’ve got all afternoon.”
Inside the first store, Beth hesitated, fingers brushing over a rack of shirts like she wasn’t sure she had the right. Even though she had bought things since leaving Ian, she had never enjoyed it, had always had his voice in her head.
Aaron stayed a step behind, hands in his pockets, letting her lead. She picked up a blouse, pale blue with bright blue buttons down the front, held it against herself in the mirror. “Do you think this will work?” she asked, brows pinched.
“It’s perfect,” he said without hesitation. “Buy it.”
And she did.
That seemed to crack the dam. Soon, she was moving with more confidence, drifting from rack to rack, trying on shorts, pants, airy cotton tops.
He carried the bags, trailing after her as she slipped into dressing rooms, emerging with something new each time.
She spun once in a sleeveless dress, white and navy with a light sway to the skirt, and his throat went dry.
“That one’s trouble,” he muttered under his breath.
She looked damn sexy in it. Hell, she looked sexy in everything she’d tried on.
Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled, and the dress went into the “yes” pile.
By the third store, she was laughing, holding up a pair of strappy sandals and teasing, “Think I can help you muck stalls in these?”
“Not unless you want a broken ankle.” He grinned, relieved to see that light in her eyes. She bought them anyway, along with a practical pair of sneakers and low-heeled flats she said would work for the office.
With each bag added to his hands, he felt a strange kind of pride. It wasn’t about the clothes. It was about her reclaiming something that bastard Ian had stripped away.
They stopped halfway through the shops to sit on some iron furniture and enjoy ice cream cones while she talked about her purchases.
He’d also made a few purchases: new sunglasses, a cotton shirt with donkeys on it that made him laugh, and a pair of running shoes.
Hours later, with the sun tilting low and the truck’s back seat full of bags, they grabbed iced coffees and sat outside on a bench by the fountain. Beth leaned back, one leg tucked under her, sipping through a straw as she watched children toss coins into the water.
“I don’t even recognize myself,” she said softly.
Aaron turned towards her. “That’s a good thing.”
She looked at him then, eyes shining, lips curving into the faintest, truest smile. “It feels like maybe this is me starting over. Like before, it was just…”—she shook her head—“practice.”
He wanted to tell her that he understood, that until she had come into his life, he’d just been going through the moves. After his parents’ deaths, he’d been faking it, hoping he could make it. With her, he was finally making it.
She’d been stronger than she realized for such a long time. She needed to know that. Had to. After everything she’d gone through.
He let his hand brush hers where it rested on the bench. They sat there enjoying their iced drinks, surrounded by shoppers, with the scent of salt air drifting inland.
“Isn’t this cozy.” The sound of Ian’s voice made him jerk up to stand between the man and Beth.
His eyes were glued to the man standing a few feet away from them. He was wearing shorts and a button-up shirt, signaling that he wasn’t on duty.
“You’re not supposed to be within a hundred feet…” he growled out, but Ian lifted his hands to stop him.
“I was sitting there”—he motioned to a table—“when the two of you sat here.”
The hell he was. Aaron had made a point to keep his eye out for Ian all afternoon. The last thing he’d wanted was to bump into him or miss him if he was spying on Beth. Still, he decided not to counter the man.
“We’re leaving.” He took Beth’s elbow to lead her towards his truck.
Beth surprised him by stopping and turning towards Ian.
“Did you burn my place down?” she asked, her chin going up slightly.
Aaron watched Ian’s response to her words and saw a glint in the man’s eyes that was his answer.
“No,” he said firmly.
Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Why did you do it?”
“I said no,” Ian countered.
“Was it because you’ve lost control of me? Was it because you like seeing me miserable?” Her voice lowered. “Or were you trying to end me?”
Ian didn’t answer. He just stood there looking pleased that they weren’t rushing away.