Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
marlowe
H alfway through december, lilith hosts a holiday cocktail party at her house on the lake. The home resembles an art gallery with glossy hardwood floors, long hallways and bold abstract paintings that take up entire walls.
She’s a gracious and elegant hostess, escorting me around the room and introducing me to her guests. They’re mostly painters, musicians, writers and poets, along with members of our organization that I haven’t already met through work.
Standing beside her in my little black dress and skyscraper heels, I smile and blush profusely as she brags about me and my achievements, waxing eloquent about my contributions to the Halifax Music Society.
“Among her many talents, Marlowe is also an accomplished pianist,” she proudly announces to an attentive group of local music powerbrokers. “Although she prefers the administrative side of music, she’s certainly gifted enough to enthrall audiences with her virtuosity. Perhaps she’ll grace us with a song later this evening.”
A murmur of approval goes around the circle. The president of a prestigious chamber ensemble hands me his card and tells me to contact him when I finish grad school.
I beam at him, my excitement barely contained. Working as an ensemble librarian would be an absolute dream come true.
As Lilith steers me away a few minutes later, she gives me a warm squeeze around my waist and crows, “I knew you’d be a big hit tonight.”
“Thank you for everything,” I tell her earnestly. “You’ve been such a godsend.”
“Oh, Marlowe.” She hugs me to her side, tipping our heads together. “You deserve all the good things life has to offer. Besides, us smart gals have to stick together.”
I grin at her. “Would you excuse me for a minute? I’m going to do a little happy dance in the restroom.”
She laughs, releasing me. “Take your time.”
I head for the powder room, wending my way through dozens of people milling around with cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, chatting and enjoying the eclectic range of music.
After emptying my bladder, I wash my hands and reapply the red matte lipstick my mother sent me with a slew of other beauty products. She’s been doing everything in her power to atone for years of treating me like dirt. It’ll take more than expensive gifts, of course. But she’s trying her best, and I appreciate that.
Finger-combing my hair, I stare hard at my reflection in the mirror. My face is thinner, my cheekbones more pronounced than they were when I first moved to Texas. So much has changed since then, and some days I feel like a completely different person: older, wiser and far more jaded. I no longer believe in fairytales. I learned the hard way that they don’t exist, and Prince Charming is just an asshole with great hair, big muscles and a monster dick.
Shaking off the cynical thoughts, I leave the powder room and head back to the party that seems to be getting louder as more guests arrive.
Helping myself to a caramel apple martini from a passing waiter’s tray, I cross the room to the terrace doors and slip outside for some fresh air.
Austin is in the grip of a cold snap that’s kept most of the guests indoors. Being from Pittsburgh, I’m used to freezing temperatures and snowstorms. So a little chilly air doesn’t chase me back inside.
A few other brave souls are huddled together smoking cigarettes and laughing quietly.
Sipping my martini, I walk to the stone balcony and look up at the night sky. I’m standing there counting stars when I hear the terrace door open, followed by the low murmur of two voices. One belongs to Lilith.
My heart rate spikes. Because I recognize the second voice. Know it like my own.
When I turn around and see Gunner, my stomach flips hard enough to make me gasp.
As our gazes lock across the terrace, Lilith smiles softly and slips back inside.
My grip on my martini glass turns clammy as Gunner walks slowly toward me with his long coat flapping in the breeze, black hair gleaming in the moonlight.
Goose bumps erupt across my skin and I shiver, unable to look away as he closes the distance between us.
His dark blue eyes are as mesmerizing as ever, pinning me to the spot as he stands before me with his hands tucked in his pockets.
I try to appear cool, aloof. Totally unbothered. “Gunner.”
“Marlowe.” His voice is a quiet rumble I feel in the pit of my stomach. “It’s good to see you.”
I nod mutely, trying to swallow around the huge knot in my throat. I hope he can’t detect how fast my heart is beating or how hard it is to breathe with him standing so damn close.
“I didn’t know Lilith invited you.”
“She didn’t. I invited myself.”
Another shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold. I lift my glass to my lips, staring at him as I sip.
He’s wearing an expensive dark gray overcoat. It hangs open to reveal a killer navy suit that emphasizes his tall, powerful body. He’s let his hair grow well past his collar and over his ears, the night breeze ruffling the thick strands.
God, he looks fucking amazing. Despite the way he stomped on my heart and sent me packing, my insane desire for him hasn’t gone anywhere.
He towers over me, his eyes drinking in my features. His delicious scent, so achingly familiar, teases my nostrils. It’s everything I can do not to breathe him in.
“Why are you here?” I demand unsteadily. “What do you want?”
“You.” He takes a step closer. “I want you.”
My knees knock together and my heart pounds hard enough to crack a rib. I want to throw myself into his arms and hold on forever. But he forfeited that privilege when he unceremoniously dumped me.
So I toss back the rest of my martini and set the glass down on the stone balustrade, then spin on my heel and march off.
He comes after me, following me into the house and pushing through the throng of partygoers. I can hear people trying to talk to him, but he brushes them off.
“Marlowe, wait. Please.” He pursues me across the crowded room, down a flight of stairs and back outside onto the lower terrace. Before I can run down the steps leading to the lake, he grabs my arm and whirls me around.
I almost slap him, swear to God. But we’re not quite alone and I don’t want to cause even more of a scene than we probably already have.
So I snatch my arm out of his grip and back away, fighting the hot burn of tears.
“I’m sorry.” His gaze locks with mine, his face ravaged with guilt. “I know you’re still hurting?—”
“Fuck you,” I hiss.
He winces.
As a few more people trickle outside, a song drifts through the open doors. “All To You” by Russ. I used to love that song. Now every time I hear it, I’m going to remember this damn moment on this moonswept terrace.
“I know you told me to leave you alone?—”
“Yet here you are.”
He nods. “I wanted to see if you’re ready to?—”
“How’s Gianna?” I jeer, crossing my arms over my chest.
He frowns. “She’s . . . fine, I guess. Why?”
“I saw a picture of you with her. You clearly wasted no time going out?—”
“Once.” He holds up a single finger. “We went out one time, and only because she insisted on treating me to dinner as repayment for my help. Nothing happened between us.” At my disbelieving look, he calmly reasons, “If we were an item, wouldn’t you have seen more pictures of us by now?”
“Not necessarily,” I shoot back. “The first time I googled you, I didn’t see any pictures of you with Laurene, and she was your fiancée.”
He inclines his head, conceding my point. “I have an insider at the company who curates image search results to protect my privacy. Just because I’m a public figure doesn’t mean my personal life is for public consumption. A few pictures might slip through the cracks every now and then. But there aren’t any more photos of me and Gianna because we’re not dating.”
I shake my head slowly at him. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“Generally.” One side of his mouth kicks up. “I’m a genius, remember?”
I don’t want to smile, nor do I want to be disarmed by one of his smiles. I’m having a hard enough time resisting him as it is.
“I saw the way you laughed with Gianna at her show,” I grumble. “You’re attracted to her.”
“Not even remotely.”
“Why not? She looks like a supermodel.”
“She’s a child.”
“I’m not much older?—”
“And you’re more woman than she’ll ever be.”
My legs wobble, his husky words playing havoc with my emotions. “What about the artbook?” I blurt out, grasping at the first thing that pops into my mind.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowed. “The artbook?”
“The one you were looking at that day in the library. The one autographed by Willem de Kooning. The one you gave to Gianna.”
“I didn’t give the book to her. I gave it to a friend whose autistic son wants to become a painter.” His eyes glint at me. “I can do this all night, sweetheart. But frankly, we have more important things to talk about.”
My heart skips three beats, then pounds frantically as he moves closer.
“There’s no one else, Marlowe. It’s you I’m absolutely crazy about. I have been from the very start.”
“You sure had a funny way of showing it,” I say bitterly. “You kicked me out?—”
“Because I was terrified, and a fucking coward.” His voice catches in his throat and he swallows tightly before averting his gaze toward the night sky. “For so many years I’ve lived in abject fear of repeating my father’s mistakes, of being just like him. That’s what had always been drilled into me, and I believed it wholeheartedly.”
His eyes return to me, stormy and vulnerable. “When I met you, I felt a connection I never expected to feel with any woman. For the first time in my life, everything about us felt right . As our relationship evolved, I kept telling myself you were too good to be true, but I had to be with you. I couldn’t stay away. I kept things from you because I didn’t want to lose you and I was afraid of not measuring up, of not being the man you need and deserve. But every time you called me on my bullshit, I realized I was failing you, just like I always feared I would. In the end, I decided to let you go before I hurt you any further.” He pauses, swallowing hard. “If I’m being honest, I was also afraid you’d get sick of me and leave?—”
“So you beat me to it? Hurt me before I could hurt you?”
At the guilty flicker in his eyes, I turn away and try to blink back my gathering tears, but they keep coming.
“I could stand here and talk about childhood trauma. About being the product of an alcoholic father and an emotionally abusive mother. I could tell you they fucked me up, and all of that would be true.” His voice drops an octave. “But my parents aren’t the ones who broke your heart. That was me. And there aren’t enough words in the universe to tell you how truly sorry I am.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting every urge to give in, to accept his apology, to trust him with my heart again.
“Look at me.”
I shake my head.
He puts his fingers under my chin and turns my face, but I stubbornly refuse to meet his gaze.
“Tell me you’re happier without me,” he roughly commands. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me anymore.”
I swallow painfully. “Gunner?—”
“ Tell me .”
I force myself to look up into his face, hating the slight tremor in my chin.
His glittering eyes hold mine, daring me to lie to him.
I open my mouth, but I can’t say the words.
“That’s what I thought,” he whispers.
I take an angry step back, my body shivering in the chilled air that springs up between us. “You shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
He steps forward, deliberately closing the space I created. “Give me another chance.”
“Why should I?” I choke out tearfully. “You hurt me, Gunner. You tossed me out in the cold like a worthless piece of property you no longer wanted or needed!”
“And I’ve regretted it every single second since you left.” His eyes are anguished, his hands now gripping my upper arms. “I can’t fucking live without you, Marlowe. Please take me back. I’m begging you. Please .”
I shake my head, swatting at my tears. “It’s too late, Gunner. I’ve moved on.”
“Have you?” He catches my hair in his hands and tilts my head back to gaze into my face, his eyes burning with intensity. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t concentrate at work. I constantly wonder where you are and what you’re doing. The house isn’t the same without you. I’m not the same without you. I miss laughing with you. I miss the way you pronounce certain words, like dahntahn instead of downtown. I miss the angelic sounds of your piano playing. I miss fighting and fucking and talking until the sun comes up. I miss having you in my life.”
“Oh God.” A thick layer of tears blurs my vision as his words burn into my heart and brand themselves against my skin. “You can’t do this to me, Gunner. It’s not fair?—”
“I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment we locked eyes across that ridiculously named bar. When you sat down at my table, I felt like the luckiest man in the whole damn world. You were the most mesmerizing woman I’d ever met, and I wanted to know everything about you. After that night, I couldn’t get you off my mind, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if I never saw you again, my life would’ve been worse for it.” His voice thickens, betraying some of his desperation. “I love you so damn much, Marlowe. Come home to me. Please, baby, just come home.”
Oh God!
He kisses my neck, my cheek, my hair, rubbing his forehead against mine as he pleads raggedly, “Say you forgive me. Say you’ll give me a second chance.”
He’s laying his heart bare, holding nothing back for the first time ever. As I look into his eyes, I see real love and a raw vulnerability that squeezes my heart. I can’t live without him either. It’s pointless to even try.
“I love you,” I finally surrender, the words resonating deep in my soul.
His face softens with relief. “You still love me?”
“Yes, God help me, I do.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before he lifts me off my feet and spins me around. I laugh through my tears and wrap my arms around his neck as joy bursts inside me, spilling over like effervescent champagne bubbles.
He swings me around again before hugging me against his body, one big hand cupping the back of my head as he whispers into my hair, “I’ve missed you so damn much!”
“I’ve missed you, too!”
He sets me on my feet before his lips swoop down on mine, stealing my breath. He kisses me with all of the fierce longing and emotion that’s built up over the past eighty-one days, and I kiss him back with matching intensity.
He breaks the kiss and stares down at me, framing my face in his hands. “I know you’re in the middle of a party, but I’m dying to be alone with you. Can we get the fuck out of here?”
“Yes, please,” I say with a breathless laugh.
As he grabs my hand and strides from the terrace, I see the flash of several camera phones. He leads me back inside and through the crowd, a blur of smiling faces.
Lilith stands by the front door with my coat and the beaded clutch I must have left somewhere at some point. She’s smiling at us, her eyes shining with approval.
As Gunner helps me into my coat, his fingertips brush against the bare skin of my back, sending a rush of tingles through me.
I glance over my shoulder at him, my lower lip caught between my teeth.
Raw hunger flares in his eyes.
Lilith chuckles knowingly. “Off you go, young lovers.”
it’s a damn good thing gunner lives close to my boss, or we might not have made it home fully clothed.
When he roars up to the house in his Lambo and jumps out, I don’t even wait for him to open my door.
We stumble up the front steps together, lips and tongues tangling, stroking each other’s faces and raking hands through each other’s hair.
He unlocks the front door, rasping out between kisses that we have the place to ourselves tonight. The words alone send my body up in flames.
He backs me across the threshold and kicks the door closed behind us. Tossing my clutch in the vicinity of a table, I watch his eyes flick up to the second floor as he calculates the distance to his bedroom and decides it’s too far. With an aggressive suck on my bottom lip, he reaches under my short dress and rips off my panties.
Gasping with pleasure, I unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, shoving them halfway down his thighs before he picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he pins me against the nearest wall. Hands gripping my outer thighs, he slams inside me with a brutal thrust of his hips.
I scream his name, clenching slickly around his hard cock. He groans and starts thrusting into me, each ferocious stroke sending a river of lava through my blood. I grab handfuls of his hair and lock my ankles behind his back, my spiked heels digging into his ass like spurs.
He pounds me against the wall, so deep and so fucking good. I moan with every thrust, absolutely delirious at the feel of him inside me after weeks of deprivation. He takes what he needs, and I surrender everything I have.
We climax hard and fast, my ecstatic cry echoing his deeper one. My head falls back against the wall, my pussy sucking at his cock as hot cum floods me. He keeps thrusting through our release, growling roughly as his hips ram into mine, making my whole body spasm uncontrollably in another orgasm.
Dazed and trembling, I close my eyes and slump against him, my head falling onto his shoulder. He finally collapses against me with a raspy groan, burying his face in the side of my neck. We hold each other tight, our ragged breaths filling the foyer. We never even bothered to remove our coats.
Contented minutes pass before Gunner kisses my neck and whispers in my ear, “Now that we’ve taken the edge off . . .”
I let out a breathless laugh as he lifts me into his arms, cradling me against his chest as he heads for his bedroom, bounding up the stairs two at a time.
In the low lamplight by the bed, we undress each other tenderly, kissing and caressing after each piece of clothing is removed. When we’re skin to skin, Gunner picks me up and tumbles me down onto the mattress, his body landing on top of mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, sighing with pleasure when he captures my lips and twines our fingers together above my head.
His first thrust makes me cry out against his mouth, my hips lifting to take him even deeper. He groans my name, his voice hoarse and achingly raw. Fingers tightening around mine, he starts pumping in and out of me. I close my eyes on a breathless moan, my head thrown back in ecstasy.
We make love desperately, lost in feelings made all the more explosive by the fierce connection we share. He bellows my name when he comes, his body stiffening against mine as he takes me right over the edge with him. The powerful orgasms leave us both trembling, our hearts bursting with love and euphoria.
He stays inside me for a wondrously long time, his cock twitching as he brushes openmouthed kisses over my lips, my jaw and neck, the upper swells of my breasts and then back to my lips, smiling at my shivery sigh.
“God, I missed you,” he whispers.
“I missed you too, baby.” I smile, nibbling his bottom lip. “I almost forgot how heavy you are.”
A rough huff of a laugh rumbles out of his chest. “There’s the smartass I know and love.”
I laugh. “No, no, don’t get off,” I protest, but he’s already lifting himself away, kissing the curve of my shoulder before slowly pulling out. The luscious friction of his retreating cock curls my toes.
He rolls onto his back and pulls me tight to him, his arm banded around my waist. I snuggle against his side, savoring the sense of completion that infuses every cell in my body when I’m with him. It’s been way too long.
As he buries his lips in my hair, I say softly, “I missed hearing you call me that.”
“What?”
“Smartass.” I smile. “And kitten. It depressed me to think of you calling anyone else those names.”
He kisses the crown of my head. “You’re my one and only smartass, kitten. There could never be another.”
I melt into a puddle as if he just recited the most epically romantic poem from Baudelaire.
When a strong gust of wind blows against the windows, he pulls the covers up to our waists, cocooning us in his huge bed. I feel deliciously warm and cozy, safe and protected.
“I didn’t think it could get this cold in Austin.”
“It happens,” Gunner murmurs lazily. “Sometimes we even get snow in January. Not much, but enough to cause a stir.”
“Wow,” I say, smiling and nuzzling his chest. “Can’t wait to cozy up in front of a fire on one of those cold winter nights.”
“Mmm. Sounds like heaven.” He threads his hand through my hair, gently massaging my scalp with his fingertips. I purr in bliss, making him chuckle.
“You’ve just given me another reason to call you kitten.”
“What made you start in the first place?”
“It was the way you told me off and slapped me the night we met. Such a gorgeous little spitfire with sharp claws,” he says, chuckling fondly. “I was lucky to escape with my eyeballs intact.”
“Your balls , you mean,” I retort dryly.
He laughs. “Those, too.”
I grin and snuggle closer, gazing around the bedroom. “It’s so good to be back here again. I’ve missed this place so much.”
“The feeling is definitely mutual. Which reminds me, Mrs. Calder really misses Sansa. She wants her to come back home.”
“And what about you?” I tease, tipping my head back to grin at him. “Do you miss Sansa?”
He grunts, looking embarrassed. “Maybe.”
I laugh. “You totally do.”
He rolls his eyes, and I laugh harder.
He tries not to grin. “I got used to having her around.”
“I know you did.” I nip at his jaw, smiling. “Sansa will be overjoyed to move back. She hasn’t been the same since we left. We made quite the pair, two miserable peas in a pod.”
“Plenty of that going around. Speaking of misery,” Gunner grumbles, “I’m glad things didn’t work out with that drummer.”
I give him a surprised look. “How did you . . . ?”
“I saw a picture of you with him, backstage after a concert.” He angles back so he can see my face. “Were you dating him?”
“Not really. I mean, I went out with him a couple times because I was lonely and depressed. He was cool, but I didn’t feel any sparks. I just . . .” I trail off, shaking my head at Gunner. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
His expression softens. “We’ve ruined each other.”
I smile at him, and he smiles back.
“We have so much catching up to do,” I say quietly. “There are so many things I want to share with you. And I want to know everything I’ve missed in your world.”
“We can stay up all night and talk all day tomorrow. Like you said, we need to make up for lost time.” He runs his fingertips down my back, leaving a trail of tingles on my skin. “Dad bought a horse ranch outside town.”
“Really? A horse ranch?”
“Apparently it was a childhood dream.” Gunner smiles. “I’ll take you there on Sunday. Dad and Mrs. Calder will be thrilled to see you. We can go horseback riding with them and stay for dinner.”
“Sounds wonderful. Can’t wait.” I grin at him hopefully. “Do you think they’ll get married someday?”
“They will if Dad has anything to say about it.”
“God, that’s so sweet,” I say with a sigh. “I’m so happy for them. I hope everything works out.”
“Me, too.” Gunner gazes down at me, caressing the length of my hair. “I love you so much, sweetheart. Now that I have you back, I’m never letting you go again.”
“Good,” I say softly, “because I don’t want you to let me go. Ever.”
He rolls me over so I’m lying under him, his hips pressed to mine as he takes my mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. I melt right into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and hooking a leg around his thigh.
He drinks me in, licks me slowly and tugs my bottom lip between his teeth. When I moan into his mouth, he gives me a sexy little smile, and I smile back.
We shut out the world for the rest of the night, caught up in the fervency of our reunion. As we drift off to sleep around dawn, there’s a dreamy smile on my face.
My family thought I was batshit crazy for moving to Texas on a whim, and sometimes even I had to question my own sanity. But little did any of us know that my destiny awaited me right here, safe and secure in Gunner Ransom’s arms.