She let the tears come in a torrent and shuddered in his arms.
He held her tighter. “I’ve got you, Liz. I won’t let you go.”
How come that sounded so good when Clint’s denial that they were over felt like a threat?
She pushed against Tate’s rock-solid chest and stepped back, but his hands came up to cup her face.
His thumbs swept over her wet cheeks. “What’s got you all unraveled?” When she didn’t answer, he took her shoulders in his hands and pressed on the swollen bruise on her left arm.
She winced and tried to move out of his grasp.
His eyes narrowed with concern and he hooked his finger in the collar of her shirt and pulled it down her arm as much as he could, revealing the purple splotches on the outside of her shoulder.
“Liz! Oh my God! What the hell!” He lightly brushed his fingers over the marks.
Even that small touch hurt and she hissed and stepped away, pulling her shirt up again. “Stop touching it.”
Tate pointed his finger at her. “Did he do that to you?”
She didn’t know what to say or do. She felt stupid and embarrassed that it happened. “It’s over.” That’s all he needed to know.
“Fucking right it is. I’ll kill him.” Tate turned for the door, but she grabbed his arm and managed to wiggle her way between him and the door before he opened it.
“Stop. Don’t go. He . . .” She tried to catch her breath, but her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe.
“He what?”
She didn’t know when she planted her hands on his chest, but she gripped his shirt and held on. “Please don’t go.”
Tate went perfectly still. “You’re afraid to be here alone.”
Her head fell forward. “I already spoke to him.”
“When? Before you got home? Is that why you’re so out of it and yelling at me?”
“I didn’t yell at you.”
“Yeah, you did when you thought I was hot for your neighbor.” He put his hands over her fisted ones on his chest. “I’m not into her, Liz. Ava is nice and all, but she’s not you.”
Her head snapped up and she met his steady gaze. “What?”
“You heard me.” A soft smile notched up his lips. “It’s kind of cute when you’re all pissed and jealous. You usually hide it better than this.”
“Did you come here to humiliate me even more?”
“No. I’d never do that to you, Liz, and you know it. I came here to tell you that you’re wrong about me not having feelings for you.”
She released him and pushed past him. “I know you care about me. I get it. I don’t need another we’re-better-as-friends speech.”
Tate took her arm and pulled to get her to turn around and face him.
She expected him to say what he always said about not wanting to lose what they had, but instead he took her face in his hands and stared down into her eyes and just like that she fell deep into the blue depths and all the sincerity and honesty staring back at her.
“I think if we gave it a try we could be great together.” Those words barely penetrated her ears before his lips settled on hers and he scrambled her brain.
His arms went around her back and pulled her close. Her breasts pressed to his chest. She fisted her hands in his shirt at his back and held on because she seriously thought her legs would give out from the tremble of need that shook through her.
His tongue swept across her bottom lip and she stopped thinking about anything but tasting him. She opened her mouth and he dove in, sweeping his tongue along hers. He did so with a skill that curled her toes but also carried a hint of hesitancy, like he wasn’t sure, or maybe like her, it felt so new and wondrous he needed a second to settle into it.
“Damn, sweetheart, I should have kissed you forever ago.” Those sweet words were followed by another searing kiss.
They got lost in each other for another long moment until Tate broke the kiss, drew in a ragged breath, pressed his forehead to hers, and stared deep into her eyes.
She rubbed her hands down his back along his taut muscles and held his waist. “I don’t know what to do now.” She waited to see if she woke up from this dream.
Tate brushed her hair behind her ear. “Let’s go out to dinner. On a real date.” He took her hand and pulled her forward as he stepped back toward the door.
“Wait. No.” She shook her head and tugged him to stop.
He tipped his head to the side and studied her. “Why not? I thought this is what you wanted, too.”
If the kiss hadn’t been enough to tell her Tate had changed his mind about dating her, that too he added at the end confirmed it.
“I . . . um . . . a date would be so nice.”
“But,” he prompted, then caught the fear she couldn’t hide from him. “This is about him. What else did he do?” She tried to pull her hand free, but Tate held on. “Na-uh. You start talking. I mean it, Liz. What happened?”
Her heart shot up to her throat. She tried to get the words out, but fear shot through her again.
“Shit.” Tate drew her to the dining table and pulled out a chair. “Sit before you pass out. You’re white as a sheet.” He loomed over her.
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t look it. Start talking or I’ll go find that fuck and make him talk.”
She leaned back, stuck her foot on the edge of the chair across from her, and pushed it out. “You sit and calm down.”
Tate took the chair, pulled it out and close to hers, then sat down. He took both her hands and held them in his. “Talk to me, Liz. You’re tough. Nothing really gets to you. So what did he do to rattle you so much?”
“He wouldn’t stop.”
Tate’s eyes went wide with shock. “What does that mean?”
She knew his mind had gone to a dark place. “No. Not that. He didn’t force me or anything.” She took a breath and tried to explain. “He showed up at the spa as I got off work. He was waiting at my car. I told him it was over.”
“Good. Then there’s nothing stopping us from seeing each other.”
She dipped her head, then looked up at him. “You’re really serious about this.”
“If you need me to prove it, I can kiss you again.” He squeezed her hands.
“I really can’t believe this is happening.”
“It’s strange. But that will wear off. And I really do want to kiss you again.” The sweet smile warmed her heart and made her giddy with anticipation even if she was having trouble switching gears from he-just-wants-to-be-my-friend mode.
Someone honked a horn outside and she jumped.
Tate frowned. “Okay, sweetheart, you need to tell me what he did when you broke up with him.”
She sighed. “He didn’t believe me.”
“Well, that’s too damn bad. You said you didn’t want to see him again, that’s the end of it.”
“He tried to convince me otherwise.”
“How?”
She pressed her lips together and fought the urge to wipe her mouth again because she really liked holding hands with Tate. “He forced a kiss on me.”
Rage filled his eyes.
“I pushed him away and told him I was done. He thinks I didn’t mean it, that I’m delusional to think you’d ever want me unless it’s out of pity, and that he and I can find our way back to when things were good.”