Chapter 59
CHAPTER 59
Holy hell. It was a dinner party.
For about a million people.
A long dinner table lined the length of the entire room, and everywhere I looked was Porter’s family. His brothers. Parents. Kids. Women. And a whole bunch of faces I didn’t recognize. Another shiver wracked my body.
The entire room fell silent as they all took note of me.
And then I saw him.
Porter.
He sat beside a little kid. Grey eyes met mine, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
Oh, my .
Porter was here. My heart sang as I drank in his appearance. He seemed different. Additional stubble and even longer hair made him look tougher than I remembered. Those slate grey eyes surveyed me back.
I tried to wipe the longing off my face but failed.
What was he doing here?
Why didn’t either of us say anything ?
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The silence in the room was so deafening, you could hear the water dripping off my clothes.
I cleared my throat, more than conscious of the dozens of eyes that watched me with varying degrees of shock and curiosity.
Why hadn’t I phoned?
The irrationality of my actions was only exacerbated by the fact that I was covered in mud and completely soaked. I prided myself on never overstepping my boundaries with any of my ex-boyfriends, but at that moment, I realized that I probably looked like some crazy stalker chick.
Maybe I was.
If I had a working car that wasn’t a twenty-minute walk away and stuck in a ditch, I would have bootlegged it out of there, but right now, my only option was to say something.
“Why are you so muddy?” a small boy saved me from speaking first.
My eyes dropped down to my pants that were caked in mud.
“There was a squirrel on the road.”
The kid’s lip started to wobble. “Did he die? Did you run him over?”
The entire room’s gaze volleyed back to me.
“He’s fine. But to save him, my car hit the ditch.”
Miles, no maybe it was Brice, hunched over his plate, his eyes cast down, while his shoulders shook.
It took me a second before I realized he was trying to not laugh.
Someone else snorted.
And then the entire room exploded in laughter.
Porter’s mom, with amused concern, spoke over the laughter, “That was very thoughtful of you, Beth.”
Porter stood. He walked towards me, took my arm and steered me out of the room. At first, I wasn’t sure if he was guiding me to the door to boot my ass back into the rain, but it became apparent that he was leading me up the stairs. He pushed me into a bedroom.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser. He didn’t need to speak, his expression told me that he wasn’t impressed. Still, my greedy eyes soaked in the sight of him. His presence was larger than life. So strong and muscular. Stupidly hot.
Fuck, I had missed him. Down to the core of my soul.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” I finally said.
“Why’d you come then?”
“I was hoping your family could tell me where you were.” A shiver wracked my body.
“Go shower. You’re freezing.”
This clinical conversation was opposite of how I had imagined our first conversation.
“Don’t you want to talk?”
“We can talk when you’re not dripping wet.”
It felt like an imposition, but I obediently moved to the bathroom and stared at my appearance in the mirror. I almost didn’t recognize myself. My face was streaked with dirt, and my hair was plastered to my head. After a flight, five hours of driving and a rainstorm, my make up was non-existent.
My throat convulsed. This wasn’t how I thought our talk would go. I hadn’t been expecting hearts and flowers, but I thought I’d get more than what he gave me. Which was exactly nothing.
Now what? After I showered, would he listen to my apology? If he kicked me out, I’d still need someone to tow my car out of the ditch.
I soaped myself off and wrapped myself in a towel. I looked at my dirty, wet clothes lying on the floor and realized I didn’t have anything to replace them with. My suitcase was in the car. I didn’t even have clean underwear.
I tugged the big fluffy towel tighter around my body and took a bolstering breath before opening the door. Porter stood by the window, looking out at the rain. I felt nothing but relief seeing him still in the room.
At least he was willing to talk.
Now. Now I’d beg him to forgive me. For not trusting him. For not believing in him. For not hearing him out.
He didn’t turn around. “I betrayed you.”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “No, my dad betrayed me, and he blackmailed you. He forced you to protect me, and he forced you into an uncompromising position with your secret.”
“I would have protected you. I didn’t want his money.”
“I know that. He knew that, too. The only reason he wanted you to take the money was so he had something to hold over you.”
“It wasn’t my secret that I was protecting.”
“I don’t know what that secret was, but I know you acted honorably.”
“I told him I wanted to marry you for real, but you needed to know the truth.”
I clung to the thick post of the four-poster bed. “Dad told me that, too. He told me everything.”
Finally, he turned around, his face puzzled. “Why did you come here to apologize? You did nothing wrong.”
“I should’ve trusted you and believed you. And at the very least, I should have listened to your side of the story.”
“Why didn’t you?” he walked towards me. Reminding me of a big cat, moving towards his prey.
I lifted my hand in a helpless gesture. “First, we were going to announce that we were not getting married. And then your family showed up. And then you were gone all night. And Detective Christensen came, and you revealed you were with Felicia. And I was so jealous.”
Porter’s arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me hard against his warm body. His mouth crushed down on mine.
Yes. Fuck, yes .
I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck .
He lifted his head. “Why would you be jealous of Felicia?”
“Because she’s gorgeous, and I saw your photos with her on your phone. And the day after I told you how I felt, you talked to her for ten minutes.”
“I told you I’m a one-woman man.”
“But you didn’t tell me who your woman was.”
“You didn’t know? Not even when I did this?” His hand moved between my legs.
My knees almost buckled as I felt his fingers rim my opening. “Why did you talk to her for ten minutes?”
“To tell her it was over. To ask her to stop calling me.”
I moaned, as I felt his fingers push into me. “I didn’t know that. But then you went to see her in the middle of the night.”
“I needed to get my grandmother’s ring from her. I wanted to give it to you.” His fingers were punishing, but my body couldn’t get enough.
I rode those fingers like my life depended on it. My voice rasped with pleasure, “I didn’t think you’d come to the church. I was such a bitch to you.”
He bit my neck. “You know it makes me hot when you get all feisty.”
I panted as those big fingers teasingly tortured me. “And then you showed up to the church. And I wasn’t sure if you were there because you wanted to be or because you felt obligated.”
His thumb circle my clit. “I told you at the front of the church how crazy I am about you. I told you I wanted to marry you.”
“And I was so happy. Deliriously so, but then you were accused of only pretending to love me for money, and both my father and you wouldn’t deny it.”
His fingers had slowed, and now he stroked my g-spot until my legs shook. “I wanted you to hear my side of things.” His thumb moved so lazily, I thought I was going to die. “I wanted to tell you the truth.”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “So sorry. ”
“You think that maybe you need to be punished a bit?”
“Yes, I totally think that’d make me feel better.” I was so close. So close to coming all over his hand. I shut my eyes as my body prepared itself to come apart.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Porter’s hand stilled. “What?” he called.
“We’re heading down the road to tow Beth’s car out. Want to help?” a male voice called through the door.
“Be right out!”
I whimpered as his fingers slid out of my body. I was so close to having an orgasm, I saw double. “You can’t leave me like this,” I gasped.
“You heard them. I have to go.” The amusement rang clear in his voice.
“I hate you,” I said weakly.
He pressed a hot kiss to my lips. “Come downstairs and have something to eat. We can finish this conversation later.”
“I don’t have any clothes.”
“Find something of mine to put on.”