Chapter 34
Tabitha
Waiters bustled, knives and forks clanged, soft jazz played on, but I was floating above it all, distanced.
Seven years ago, Tim had hurt me so badly I thought I’d never recover.
But I went on with my life and on to my first job, brokenhearted, my confidence in myself so low I felt I was crawling on the ground.
Then there was the actual physical loss of him.
All that glossy, gleaming, laughing him.
The past and future montages of us I’d sewn together with a comforting blanket stitch that made our memories a forever heirloom.
I looked away from him, but I saw us together in the glittering mirror on the other wall.
Back then, I’d seen only him, those swaggering shoulders, that glint in his eyes, that ready laugh on his full, sensuous mouth.
But now, I saw us together, and we looked familiar, like home, but also something fun and challenging.
Exciting. I’d spent all these years protecting myself, selecting men who were the opposite of him, but where had building all those walls gotten me?
With someone who’d picked and pecked at me and made me feel like an over-responsible bore.
And for all I’d tried to protect myself, I’d still been dumped.
But with Tim, I felt stronger. The best version of myself, who could confront my parents and be honest with them.
He’d made me feel more confident in myself, and that was partly why I’d stood up to them.
With him, I was fun-loving and goofy and the person I wanted to be, the one who didn’t hesitate to speak out when she was crossed or undermined or annoyed.
And then there was the way he’d looked at me tonight.
With a hunger in his eyes, like the sight of me drove him crazy with lust. Like no other man had looked at me.
As if, with a word from me, a nod, he’d scoop me up, power outside, and call a cab to my flat.
There, he’d kick down my bedroom door, throw me on the bed, and ravish me.
He’d made a mistake seven years ago in how he’d treated me. I’d hung on to that for all those years, and maybe he’d stayed away from me because he knew.
I felt a slender, delicate thread start weaving its way between us. Old ties, surprising and tentative new bonds, and the faraway but steady firm rope of the future.
Finally, I nodded and looked him in the eye. “That was seven years ago. I want to give you another chance.”
His face lit up. He leaned toward me, took my hand, and kissed it, tenderly circling my pulse with his thumb. “Thank you. I’m going to woo you so good.”
I felt my lips quirk at the corners.
He knit his brow. “I hope you’ll always let me know when I’m out of line, though. I know I’m not the usual guy you choose.”
I squeezed his fingers and slowly pulled my hand away. I wanted to move on with the evening and for us to work, but I needed him to know another reason I’d never picked men like him.
I took a shuddering breath. “You mentioned before that I’d left my architecture firm after a year, but I didn’t leave by choice. I was…forced to leave.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, forced?”
I hadn’t told this story in years, but I wanted him to know this about me.
“At first, it seemed like that job was my dream. I was working hard on really great projects, and I started dating a guy who was on the same level as me. He was always the life of the party, could talk to anyone, even the partners. I was perceived as serious, even though I knew that wasn’t really me.
It’s just that I’m shy when I first meet people. ”
He nodded like he knew that and took my hand.
“We had the same dream of being partners. The first step was being a junior. I’d worked harder than my boyfriend on several more prestigious projects, and the thought was, I was going to get the nod.
But in the end, he got the promotion, because he was seen as more likable, more fun, better with clients, better with the partners.
Then he dumped me, took up with another junior, and made it very clear I had no future there.
Nothing official, but I got the message loud and clear.
” The anger and discouragement from back then rose up in my throat.
Perry always told me I had to get over it.
“What a fucking bastard,” Tim snarled, his face heating with outrage. He visibly worked to calm himself down and squeezed my hand. “You didn’t want to try another firm?”
“By then, I knew I wasn’t cut out to do the politicking needed to be partner in any architectural firm.
I’d always thought I’d let my work speak for itself.
So foolish of me.” I’d never really articulated this properly to anyone before, and it felt incredibly good to let it all out, even though I’d been very naive.
“That’s not foolish. That’s how the world should work. You do a good job, you’re the best person for the promotion, and you get the reward.”
A rush of appreciation surged through me that he was so firm and sure in this opinion.
“I’m happy doing what I’m doing,” I said. “And I have realized in the real world, I can’t just let my work speak for itself. I do have to do some pushing and politicking and putting my foot down, though, as you have witnessed, I’m still not good at it. But…”
“But?”
I felt a little hesitation here because I was worried about spoiling the night. Would he make a joke or be dismissive? “But it made me wary of men who were likable and fun…on the outside.”
He pursed his lips, as if maybe he realized that was why I’d been resistant and resentful of him. But that hadn’t been the whole reason.
“I made up my mind I needed someone stable to date,” I went on, “and I shouldn’t mind if he was boring. I thought maybe I shouldn’t worry if he was a little unlikable.”
His lips pressed more firmly. “Perry.”
“So, I could be the fun one. The likable one, for once.” I dropped my head into my hands, groaned, then flung my head up again. “God, when I put it like that, it sounds so ridiculous, so misguided.”
“Oh, Tabs. I’m sorry you felt that way. Perry was never good enough for you, and now I know why. You’re an amazing, intelligent, and beautiful woman. Never hide any part of you again.”
He smoothed a gentle hand over my head and cupped the back of my neck. I wanted to lean into his hand and close my eyes, but the waiter appeared with our plates and announced our orders. He set down my salad, and then he put Tim’s steak and frites in front of him.
Inhaling the buttery, rich smell, I wished I’d ordered that now.
“It’s half yours,” Tim said, clearly knowing me well.
I loved this man who encouraged me to eat what I wanted. Loved? No…liked.
“Another drink, madam? Sir?” the waiter asked.
I ordered another glass of fizz. I’d bared the worst of myself and my life, and somehow, I knew I could eat, drink, and enjoy the evening now.
“I’m not driving back home tonight,” Tim said. “I’ll have a glass of red, thanks.”
I wondered briefly if he was hoping to stay at my place, but I shouldn’t assume that. I knew he’d be fine with sleeping in the spare room, but what was I thinking? Of course he wasn’t staying with me—he had his sister.
“You’re staying with Amy?” I asked, feeling safe in his answer.
He froze, knife and fork poised over his meat. “No, I booked a room here.”
“Here?” I looked toward the circular staircase.
He put down his utensils and flung one hand through his hair. “Shit, I know how that looks. I didn’t want to stay with Amy this time. It doesn’t mean I expected anything. That wasn’t why I asked you out to dinner.”
Our thighs were pressed against each other, my face so close we were breathing the same air.
“Oh?” I bit my bottom lip. “Why did you invite me out to dinner, then?”
The forward woman in me made an appearance again, because I was so comfortable with him. He gave me a half smile, draped his arm along the booth behind me, and held me captive with his dark-honey eyes.
“Because I like talking to you, when we’re not fighting.
Well, when we’re fighting too. I like talking to you about the house, about your thoughts on architecture, about your old horses, and your newspaper job.
I like hearing you laugh. I like how kind you are to everyone on set, how you ask each person about their jobs and their family, and you notice when someone’s not being nice to them and you just quietly move in beside them and support them that way.
I like how good you are at designing. It’s like you always say, it’s all about movement of people within the house.
You see people talking, cooking, sleeping, and bathing.
Having friends and families over for potluck parties…
and nights when there’s just one person home and they might be reading in a corner. ”
I shifted toward him, alight with wonder. I had no idea he’d come to this realization about me or my work.
“And it’s all going to look so beautiful and light and warm,” he went on. “You had a vision. I didn’t see it, and now I do.”
My heart was pumping so hard I thought I’d explode. But wait… None of this had anything to do with whether he was attracted to me.
“So, it seems you esteem my good character?” I teased and bit into my bottom lip.
His eyelids dropped halfway, heavy. “And when you bite your lip like that, it drives me absolutely fucking wild.”
My breath caught, and my fingertips flew to my mouth. His jaw twitched.
“I like how you smell, like those little daffodils in spring. I like looking at you, your beautiful blue eyes and your shiny hair.” He paused.
“I probably haven’t said any of that very well.
No one pays me for my words like they do you.
I’m an uncomplicated guy. I don’t ruminate on things too much, but trying to figure out why I was always so agitated when I caught sight of you gnawed away at me for a long time.
Until I came to a realization, one that was surprisingly simple.
Wherever you are—whether it’s across the room or ten feet away—I want to be closer to you. I just like being around you.”
My cheeks blazed hot, and all my words, even the usual ridiculous ones, left my brain.
“I like being around you too.” My voice cracked.
“Good.” He rested his eyes on my lips, and I thought about our last kiss by the river, deep and heavy and…interrupted. I thought about picking up where we left off.
I widened my eyes. “There is a lot of agreeing. It’s unnerving.”
His face moved even closer to mine until I could see that his thick lashes were blond-tipped from being outside so much. “Maybe we should quit talking while we’re ahead.”
“Yes.” I said it in a dazed dream, my brain fixed on his lips and how much I wanted them on mine right now. I needed to say those words and make it clear.
“What should we do instead?” His lips were almost touching mine.
“You could kiss me.”
“Hmm.”
“What kind of hmm is that?” I asked.
“This kind.”
He put his hands slowly up to the sides of my face and pushed back into my hair. Lowering his lips onto mine, he pressed gently, angled his mouth, and then he consumed me.