Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Berkleigh
“How long have you had the cameras inside my house?”
Tanner huffs a laugh as he continues to slice the steaks with the finesse of a professional chef. “I guess we’re getting straight into it.”
“Yep. I always tell my clients that, no matter how difficult, being upfront and honest with the person they love is the key to their forever.” I toss the salad one final time before serving it on the two clean plates.
It feels like the silence drags on for a little longer than is comfortable and I pause as I realize what just came out of my mouth.
My eyes widen and I lift my head, turning in slow motion to look at Tanner.
He’s frozen in time, like me, only his expression isn’t one of shock, like mine.
Instead, he’s wearing the smirk that I used to hate with a passion, the smirk that I now can’t get enough of, and those deep brown eyes of his are boring into me as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of my face.
“Okay, so I love you. Stop being an asshole about it and answer my question.” Holding his eye contact, I raise my brows in a silent challenge.
His smirk grows as he slides the knife onto the counter and closes the short distance between us, spinning me by the waist, then lifts me, giving me no choice but to wrap my legs around him.
“I already told you that you’re mine, Sweet Bee.” The way he kisses me makes my knees weak and I breathe into it, tangling my fingers into his short hair.
Placing me on the counter, he slides his hands up from my ass to grip my waist as he grinds himself against me. It feels so good…
“No…” I push at his chest and give my best disapproving glare. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Looks like it’s working, too.” I could watch him like this, free and easy, all day long. But there are discussions to be had.
“Plate up the steaks and tell me about the cameras in my house.” Pushing him again, I manage to jump down from the counter and straighten my sweater. He has spent the day distracting me in bed, in the shower, in the hall, and even right here in the kitchen about three hours ago.
Planting a final kiss on my already swollen lips, Tanner grins and finishes plating up our dinner while I pour the wine. It’s all so natural, the way we move around each other as though we’ve been doing this our whole lives.
“Some of them are Viscastive 4k mini camer—”
“You’re being pedantic. I know I said tell me about the cameras, but you know what I mean. How long have you had the cameras in my house?” I take a bite of the steak and hold back my groan as I chew. The man is a master in the kitchen and I swear he has no idea.
“Do you remember the day your Prius broke down on the way home from a conference in the city, when you had to get a motel because the recovery truck couldn’t come out until the next morning?
” As though he hasn’t just blown my mind with details he shouldn’t know, he begins shoveling food into his mouth, but even that’s still sexy.
“Yeah…” I drag the word out. “But that was like, a week after you moved back here. Years ago.” I feel like I’ve been chewing this current mouthful for too long because he can’t have been spying on me for that long. I’m curious where he’s going with this.
“Good memory.” He grins and I’m just waiting for the “good girl” to come out of his mouth so I can kick him in the nuts. “It was my fault your car broke down, but I did pay the motel you stayed at to make sure there were no guests on either side of your room so you could sleep well.”
“What the fuck?” I slam my fork down and grab my wine glass, finishing what’s left before pouring more. I need it.
“I had to give myself enough time to install the cameras and you nearly woke up the first night I tried. It was my only solution.” He shrugs and shovels more food into his mouth, whereas I think I have lost my appetite.
“I’m going to slide on by how casual you’re being about this and ask a follow up question.
Probably a few…” More wine down my throat.
“Why would you do that? Because I’m struggling to understand why someone who openly despised me would want to watch me inside my house.
Like, what was the purpose in doing that? ”
I’m not sure where I thought this conversation was going, but it’s getting deeper than I imagined.
His plate is empty and he leans back in his chair, his own glass of wine in hand as he sighs, thinking about his answer—for a change.
“I don’t know. You’re the psychologist…psychologize it. Eat your dinner.”
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do by asking questions. I’m not a mind reader, I can’t determine your reasoning without any insight.” He’s starting to piss me off now, casually swirling his wine in his glass and avoiding eye contact. “I thought you were going to be honest with me about this.”
“When have I outright lied? And your steak is getting cold.” He pushes his chair back a little, like he’s feeling suffocated somehow.
“I didn’t say you lied, but you’re bending the truth like a clown does balloon animals. And I like cold steak.” I pick up my fork and stab at a piece of meat, glaring at him through slitted eyes as I bite down and chew, swallowing it down with a large gulp of wine.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Berkleigh. You are so stubborn. What do you want from me? Fine, I hated you. That’s not news, but I can both hate you and still want to know you’re safe. Why is that so fucking insane?” His left leg starts bouncing up and down like his nerves are getting the better of him.
“Why? Because people don’t spy on people they hate, just to know they’re safe.
It’s as insane as they come. I could understand if you had some hidden crush, but that definitely wasn’t it.
Not with the way we used to be before you left.
Not with the things that happened to me.
” It seems like everything is coming out of the bag now.
The whole damn can of worms has been popped.
“This isn’t high school, Berkleigh. Crushes aren’t a thing. We’re fucking adults.” He stands, pacing from one end of the table to the other. “And if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m not fucking normal. I’m not the boy next door from almost twenty years ago.”
“No, but you’re still the asshole who confuses the fuck out of me and makes my life difficult. How has a simple conversation turned into this bullshit?” I pour myself another hefty glass of wine, feeling the effects from the first two glasses already but I give exactly zero fucks.
His steps halt, then he turns, facing me head on.
“I make your life difficult? Are you fucking serious?” Raking his fingers through his short hair, he laughs with absolutely no humor in his tone.
“You made your own life difficult by bringing home all of those fucking losers. Half of them I had to kill off because they were dangerous fucks. How’s that for difficult? ”
The wine in my mouth sprays all over the table, my dinner now covered in the red liquid, and I have to take another mouthful just to calm myself because…What. The. Fuck?
“You’re fucking insane!” No wonder nobody ever called me for a second date.
“No shit! Again, that’s common knowledge. Your people have told me this repeatedly.” He flings out his arms in visible exasperation, like I’m the one being unreasonable.
“Were any of them actually dangerous? Did they deserve to be killed or have you been out murdering people for the sake of it?” I’m uncertain whether I feel anything for them or not, it’s not like any of them were memorable experiences, but I’m sure they didn’t deserve to die.
“Did they…” His head falls back as he releases a long winded, “Fuuuck.” Then, like a switch has been flipped, he fixes his stare back on me and it’s almost void of all emotions. “Exhibit A. Your house where one of your fuck boys raped you. How’s that for deserving my wrath?”
“Okay, so yeah, I’ll give you that one. Although, he’s still very much alive…
” I glare back at him, taunting him. “But what about the others? Because I was very willing, each and every time.” I cross one of my legs over my knee as elegantly as I can muster, relaxing my elbow on the back of my chair, sipping my wine triumphantly.
I don’t have time to savor my victory before he flips the table over, food and drinks flying all over the kitchen, the crashing of silverware and plates pulling a scream out of me worthy of a horror movie.
“You’re wasting the wine!” I don’t know why this is my priority when he’s just scared the shit out of me, standing there panting like an animal.
Then he’s on me, feral and murderous, his hand on my throat and my back suddenly slammed against the nearest wall.
“You don’t talk about the men you fucked.
They don’t fucking matter. Do you understand?
” His mouth is so close, his words pushed out through gritted teeth.
“Every time I saw a man in your house, I wanted to kill him. I didn’t give a fuck if he was teacher of the year or a fucking mafia kingpin.
They all deserved to die because they fucking touched what’s mine.
” Then his mouth is on me and I’m so confused, I have no idea what’s happening.
I pull away, despite how good he always feels, huffing at his attitude.
I could scream and cry and go crazy with all of this information, but after spending so much time together, it doesn’t feel as wild as it definitely should.
I understand him because right now, yeah, I’d absolutely kill a bitch for touching him. Maybe I’m insane too?
“Basically, you’ve been spying on me for a long time because you secretly love me?” I laugh, because what else am I supposed to do? It feels like some big joke the universe is playing on me. My bully secretly loved me all this time…yeah, right.