Chapter 22
22
MARCUS
W hen we reach my cabin, I hold open the door for her to step inside. She shivers, setting her phone down on the counter and running her hand down her arm. “Here,” I say, reaching for her mug and topping it off with hot coffee. Once I pour a second cup, I go to the fridge to retrieve the coffee creamer I know she likes. I happened to spot it in her fridge one night I was over at her cabin and ended up picking up a bottle when I was at the store. I don’t know why exactly, but I’m glad I did.
“Thanks,” she replies, pouring a good amount of creamer into her mug and taking a slow sip. “So good.”
I drink a bit of my own cup of Joe, savoring the rich, heavy scent.
“Can I ask you something before we get to the other thing?”
I nod, waiting.
“Why did you have this creamer in your fridge, when I always see you drink your coffee black?”
Of course she’d find the creamer and wonder. “I bought it for you. I wanted to have some, just in case.”
She gives me a slow nod, as if she’s processing that piece of intel. Ryan walks over to the table and has a seat. She lifts one foot up, placing her heel on the edge of the chair. Even with the oversized shirt, I can still see flesh and a strip of the light purple satin panties she’s wearing.
“Well, I appreciate it. I thought I’d just have to throw sugar and milk in my coffee this morning and was pleasantly surprised when I opened the fridge.” After a few beats, she asks, “What is it you want to ask me?”
I take a sip of my bitter coffee and lean against the counter. Many questions flash through my head, but only one stands front and center in my brain. So, I just blurt out the one thing I want to know. “Did you punch that fucker in the nose?”
She’s taken aback for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. “No, but I wanted to.”
The corner of my mouth curls up. “Good. That would have been the least of what he deserved.”
Her throat bobs as she lifts her head in agreement. “Yeah. I was completely pissed at Bradley too. He’s the show’s producer. He’s the one who approved that bombshell to air.”
I make sure to add this Bradley character to my list. “So…Vaughn Cramer, huh?” I pray that question came out as casual as it sounded in my head, and not like the jealous asshole I fear it mimicked.
She lowers her eyes for a second before returning that chocolate gaze back to me. “He was…charming. We ran in the same circles, so we were constantly at the same places at the same times. In a way, it felt good to be around someone and talk to them about the industry and the price of fame.
“I was always being followed and photographed, but when I started to date Vaughn, their efforts just went into overtime. The headlines always promoted the good boy and the bad girl he was going to tame.”
“Bad girl?” I ask, recalling the online references to her partying and wild days.
She rolls her eyes. “That was their angle. They were always trying to photograph me doing something inappropriate. Each headline was more ostentatious than the previous one, and they played the angle to perfection.”
“But he was using you.”
She nods. “Yep. I’ve always kept people at arm’s length, mostly because it’s hard to know who to trust. In fact, I rarely trust anyone, with the exception of a few close friends and work confidantes, which makes his betrayal that much harder to take. Over time, I began to trust him, to see him as a man who just wanted a touch of normal in our abnormal world. He claimed to want to be Just Vaughn, not Vaughn Cramer, Hollywood Heartthrob.”
“How long did you date?” I find myself asking.
“Off and on for more than three years.”
My eyes widen at that response.
“We met at a party my dad was attending. I was twenty-three and his plus one, since my mom was away someplace. Vaughn came up and introduced himself to me. I knew who he was, since he had just wrapped up a movie they were promoting heavily for a summer release, and I’d seen some of his early movies. For the first time, someone seemed to be paying attention to me, not my dad. He never once asked me about him, which was different. Most guys would always dig for information, but not Vaughn. He never once talked about who my dad was or asked to meet him. I never picked up on an uneasy vibe, one that meant he was betraying me.”
“He’s a master manipulator,” I state, wishing he were standing in the room so I could kick his fucking ass.
“He is. After I saw the show, I just shut down. I needed some time to come to terms with what I saw, as well as the fact the whole world just witnessed my humiliation.”
“I’m sure that was tough.”
She nods again. “Horribly. Anyway, when we finally connected, he tried to play it off as part of the show, like it was scripted, and he was supposed to say that. And when he realized he couldn’t charm his way out of it, he threw every excuse at me, including that it was somehow my fault.
“My phone was going crazy; everyone was trying to find out what was going on. The media was hounding me, looking for a statement or whatever, and everywhere I turned, they were playing that clip. I wasn’t in any mood to face it all head-on, so I left. I found a little cabin in the middle of Nowhere, Wisconsin, and I flew out a couple days later under the lesser-known name of Jade.”
She’s been through a lot in a short amount of time. Add in the fact I was a complete asshole to her in the beginning, and the only reason I have is that she got under my skin. In a way no woman ever has, and if I’m being honest, she’s sort of embedded there, right under the surface. Without even knowing it, she’s refusing to leave.
Except, that’s not true.
Ryan is leaving.
In less than two weeks, she’ll be out of here, jet-setting back to her life in California. I’ll be here, continuing to do my thing. Even if I wanted her to stay, I wouldn’t ask. What does Pine Village have for a woman like her? She’s used to fancy, expensive, and glamor. The best she’s gonna get here is the steakhouse, not that there’s anything wrong with it. Kameron has done an amazing job transforming it into a great place to eat.
Of course, it’s no CUT by Wolfgang Puck, which was recently featured on some dining and food show the TV was turned to.
Not that I’m trying to tally up what I have to offer. I’m not. This is a fling, nothing more or less. She’s here for a short time, and I’m committed to showing her a good time. At the end of her month, we’ll walk away with only memories and a smile.
“Is he bothering you? Vaughn?” I ask, redirecting my train of thought back to the conversation at hand.
She shrugs. “He’s blocked. He tried to call and message a bunch, but I haven’t talked to him since I broke it off and left. I don’t want to either.” She exhales loudly and shakes her head. “Looking back, I realize our relationship wasn’t right. It wasn’t what I really wanted, but it was all I knew. He was gone for lengthy periods of time for work, and I was fine with that. I shouldn’t have been, you know? But I was. Looking back now, our relationship was comfortable, but it was built on lies.”
Taking a sip of my coffee, I can’t help but wonder, “What now?”
As she thinks, she smiles. “I want to put more into my makeup and skincare line. We have a huge reveal and celebration event coming up when I return. I want to watch it grow and am committed to putting the time and energy into doing so.”
I can’t help but feel her excitement, her passion. “You’ll do just that. I know it.”
She gives me a questioning look. “How do you know that?” Her question is hesitant, her voice laced with worry.
“Because I see it in your eyes, Princess. You’ve been feisty since the day I met ya, and if you want to do something, then dammit, that’s what you’ll do. So if you want your business to succeed, I know you’ll do whatever possible to help it get there. I have faith in you.”
Her eyes fill with tears. She blinks rapidly, trying to keep them at bay. Usually, I’d run away as if my ass were on fire at the first sign of crying, but with Ryan, all I want to do is take her in my arms, comfort and console her.
But that’s not what I do.
I can’t.
She’s leaving in less than two weeks, and I can’t afford to invest any more of my heart. I’ve already given her more than any other woman before her, sadly. I’ve not tried to keep myself closed off, but I realize that’s probably what I’ve done all along. Why? Good question. It doesn’t take a psychologist to realize it most likely stems from the fact everyone has left me. My dad died, my mom didn’t want to be a parent and left me with my grandparents. When I was in high school, Gram passed away, and a few years back, Grandpa. Now, I have no one, and if I keep everyone at arm’s length, it hurts a lot less when they go.
“What about you, Marcus? What do you see in your future?”
It would be too easy to picture her there. In such a short amount of time, I’ve become attached, and that’s not like me. I’m a pro at keeping my distance. It’s what I’ve done my whole life.
Needing to keep things light, I opt to pull it away from the heavy stuff.
“I see you and me naked in the shower in my future.”
She giggles and lifts her feet, wiggling her toes. “My feet do probably need a good scrubbing.”
Making my way toward her, I carefully grab her around the waist and lift her off the chair. Positioning her over my shoulder, I easily maneuver her like a sack of potatoes. Her squeal of laughter makes me hard, as does the anticipation of getting her naked and in the shower. Giving her a firm slap on the ass, I say, “We’ll be scrubbing more than your feet, Princess.”
Taking the steps two at a time, I cart her up to my bathroom to help her wash the dirt off her body, all while getting her dirtied up all over again.
“Shower. Now.”