Brand Me (Imagine Ink Book 2) Page 15

  After discovering everything she needed for a homemade red sauce and veggie spaghetti and…oh, meatballs…in the new supplies, she got to work crafting her specialty.

  Making Michael a homemade meal felt organic. Everything was perfect. The sauce was simmering, the veggie spaghetti was ready to go in the boiling water when he arrived, and she even managed fresh rosemary garlic bread. Not homemade, a bread machine box, but still better than a frozen loaf.

  She stoked the fire and stirred the sauce, and then she settled in to wait.

  Michael couldn’t say if it was having Tori waiting for him or just the weight that lifted after speaking with John, but he felt a wisp of contentment as he entered the cabin, which smelled delicious. It was like a normal family thing, coming home to Tori and…

  “Is that a homemade red sauce?” Turning from her book at his voice, her face lit up and that was a gun blast to the chest. Breathing was damn near impossible as the full force of her smile tightened his heart in a vise.

  Is she genuinely happy to see me? It sure seemed that way.

  “Yep, and I make a pretty mean one, too. The only reason I’m not three hundred pounds is I eat it with veggies instead of pasta.” Marking her page, she closed her book and gave him her undivided attention. “So, how’d it go at the doctor’s?”

  And just like that, a handful of words robbed what little joy he had found. The conversation with Tonya, having Wendy’s hands on him again, and speaking all those truths all came back with a vengeance.

  Will I ever be able to sustain happiness? John assured him he would, but it would take time. Putting a lie on his face, he answered her question with false hope. “Good. Doc thinks a bit of scraping and physical therapy will restore full range of motion, but I will most likely have some diminished feeling in my palm. Which is fine, as long as I can feel the strings, it’s all good.”

  Michael walked over to the pot to steal a taste, using it to cover up the devastation that would likely be readable in his eyes. “Oh, my God, Tori, this is amazing. Hands down, the best sauce I’ve ever had.” He was so lost in the bursting flavors he was experiencing, he missed her coming up behind him until she snatched the wooden spoon from his grasp. “Hey?”

  “Hey, nothing, mister, you’ll wait until the veggie pasta is done. Shoo.” Michael found it adorable that she added some faux heat to her order, but he could tell his appreciation of her sauce bolstered her a bit and that did the same for him.

  “Fine, Princess Bossy Pants, I’ll sit here like a king and watch you slave away to cook me a meal.” Plopping into the chair, he watched her narrow her eyes at him, which earned her a raised eyebrow. She responded by thrusting out her tongue like a three year old. Is it weird that I find that sexy as Hell, too?

  Michael rose from the chair and stalked her like a panther. As she stirred the sauce, he wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her essence combined with marinara. It was definitely a homey combination. “Don’t stick that thing out at me again unless you plan to use it.” The unrecognizable voice that escaped his mouth rocked him back on his heels. It was the voice of a happy man, a free man…a whole man.

  “Oh, you. Go get cleaned up for dinner.” He fucking loved how she raised her cheek and pressed it into his kiss.

  “Need some help? I know my way around a kitchen, well, the microwave area, anyway.” He said jokingly as he washed his hands.

  “Sure, you can slice the fresh bread. It should be cool enough now.”

  As he sliced, he enjoyed the companionable silence of the endearingly domestic scene he was participating in.

  Tori dropped the spaghetti-thin vegetables into the boiling water and turned her attention to the counter, pouring a generous portion of olive oil onto a plate and liberally coating it in fresh cracked pepper.

  Fascinated by her every movement, Michael wasn’t sure how he managed not to slice his other hand open. Tori carried the plate to the small dining table. After making a few more trips, she had it looking inviting. Michael added his bread to the display and returned for the salad she was tossing. Brushing her lips with his as he took the bowl from her hands, he made an observation.

  “You should drain the veggie spaghetti before it gets soft.” The last word was said with as much innuendo as he could muster. By the spark that flared in her eyes before she could hide it, he hit his mark. Michael wanted her off-balance, needing this dinner to be a night to remember. He decided it would be as romantic as he could make it for her. Once she found out about Tonya, he might not have another chance to autograph his name on her heart.

  If she learned Tonya was in his house the wrong way, she would misunderstand. Well, let’s face it, there is no correct way to learn that the man you’ve been sleeping with is seemingly living with his ex-fiancée. In her mind, he’d be no better than Richard. The fact that he’d broken it off months ago would be irrelevant and that Tonya moved herself back in as he left town, wouldn’t matter. Until he could return to civilization, he couldn’t clean up this steaming pile of shit his life had become. He couldn’t stop Tonya’s forced wedding plans and he couldn’t get the help he needed and he couldn’t ask Tori to be his.

  Tonight was the beginning of the end for them. Already, the sense of loss was suffocating, making it impossible to breathe. Thinking of the impending doom barreling down on them was too much to handle.

  After she drained the veg, she headed to the bathroom to clean herself up for dinner. Once the door closed, he sprang into action like a man possessed. He uncorked the bottle of red John brought and rummaged through the drawers for the emergency candles. He had just turned off the lights when Tori emerged. Out of breath from his effort, he was mesmerized by her angelic face bathed in the soft glow of the candles and firelight flickering from the hearth.

  It was a sight that resonated in his chest like no other. “You’re such an ass. This was supposed to be a nice dinner for you, but you turned it around and made it just amazing.” The insult was said with affection, he could hear it in her shaky voice as she trailed off and tears seemed to cut her words short. He hastened to her side.

  “I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t mean to take anything away from you, I just couldn’t help but show you a fraction of the care and consideration you’ve shown me. Come on. Sit. Enjoy your hard work.” He led her to the table, pulled out her chair, and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head as he tucked her chair under the table.

  Taking his seat, he committed every detail to memory. Not only did he want this night etched on her heart forever, he wanted it seared onto his as well. He would tell her about Tonya, his decision to file charges, and the possibility of a child, everything, but not just yet. This night would be perfect for her. Only after she was spent and sated from making love into the wee hours of the morning would he crush her under the weight of his bullshit.

  She needed to understand, Tonya was not going to back off easily, and their impending “wedding” wasn’t his doing even though it would be public by the time they returned home. Hopefully, he could convince her that he wasn’t deceiving her, this was a new development, however, he should have told her about the living arrangements before now. He hoped and prayed that since he and Tonya hadn’t spent a single night under the same roof since they broke up, Tori wouldn’t feel betrayed. There wasn’t time to deal with it on his way out of town so he pretended it didn’t matter, but it would.

  The humiliation she would face once he came forward about being raped would be a factor, too. John had stunned him with the cruelty his brother had endured—jokes about not being a man, being gay, and how he must be damaged to complain about getting laid. Those were just the tip of the iceberg. Troy was thrust into a very skewed-view spotlight. Victim shaming was frowned upon where women rape victims were concerned, but the same didn’t seem to apply to men. It was a glaring double standard.

  Maybe it was because it was misunderstood, or people just couldn’t accept that a man can be vulnerable to an attack by someone half his size. M
aybe people just couldn’t comprehend male anatomy and that the body can react even if the mind was screaming no. Either way, Tori would have to face all that and more, and Michael wasn’t sure he could ask that of her.

  Lastly, he’d have to drop the bomb that his attacker could be pregnant with his child. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew Tori was strong enough for all the other bullshit, but that might just be the straw. She’d shared her dreams of a family, even her plans to proceed with one when she returned to town. It took every ounce of restraint not to beg her not to go that route, to let him father her children. But, he couldn’t bind her to him with the amount of baggage he came with. Not yet, and once he came clean, probably not ever.

  Dinner was amazing even though he barely tasted it. He was so caught up in where they would be after he told her everything, he missed out on the here and now. However, the second they make their way to bed, he would definitely be in the moment. There was no other option but the all-consuming present when it came to making love to her.

  It was always a quieting experience. Not physically, in that aspect they were loud as fuck. As far as vocals went, they were almost evenly matched with his dirty talk beating hers, two to one, but her screams of bliss edging his out by a nose.

  It was soul-quieting.

  When he was inside her body, his demons were mute and his soul was content. He knew from the absolute first time he entered her in a single thrust that she held some sort of power over the darkness. It ceased to exist inside him for a time, receding with each thrust, demons cowering with every moan she made. Somehow, she settled his spirit and he didn’t know how he could ever live without that.

  Tori had claimed him; she became the master of his soul. One man cannot serve two masters. She had tacked up an eviction notice, clearing his heart so she could move in, branding him as hers.

  What he hoped for now was to learn to let the silence reign when she wasn’t screaming his name.

  Holding her tears back became a constant effort from the second she exited the bathroom and found him out of breath with the lights off and candles lit. Michael had turned the tables on her. Wanting to give him a sense of home and comfort must have worked better than she expected.

  He’d seemed taken aback by her small effort to show him appreciation. The look he pelted her with throughout their dinner melted her panties and swelled her heart. It was as if she were the only woman who mattered, the most beautiful woman on the planet. A woman who was appreciated and loved.

  What more could anyone ask for? It was the look of adoration that did her in. No man had ever viewed her in that light, at least not that she had witnessed. Love. Could he love her as much as his eyes conveyed? God, how I want to believe he can. After all that had happened to him, to her, didn’t they deserve a taste of happiness?

  Fuck, yeah, we do. She would see him healthy and healed. Encourage him to seek justice, and when it was all said and done, all dealt with, once they were back to civilization—after he had his day in court and Dr. Beckett worked his magic—they could plan a future…together.

  It humbled her to know it was an honest to goodness possibility. When she’d first set eyes on the hotty heading toward the plane, she never even imagined it. Then, once she discovered he was Richard’s brother, she accepted that it would never be, but now? Well, there was hope and that brought on a high she couldn’t describe. Once the dinner was gone, and the wine empty, Michael gave her a small gift. One he didn’t even realize was a gift.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, retrieving something from his pocket and sliding it across the table through the maze of dirtied dishes. “I managed to download some of your messages, but not all complete. It was cell Hell in town and the reception areas sketchy at best.”

  After he relinquished the phone, he grabbed some dishes, headed to the sink, and started running soapy water. When Tori began clearing the rest, he motioned her back to the table and her waiting phone. “I’ve got this, it’s the least I can do since you made us an amazing dinner. I’ll do dishes and you sit down with your phone. I know you’re dying for word on your brother and his lady.”

  She grabbed her phone and plopped on the couch, tucking her feet under her thighs. Snatching the throw from the back, she wrapped herself in its comfort and starting scanning the downloaded messages, searching for the ones she desperately prayed were there. “True, but she’s not his lady, not as of the time I left, anyway. That’s the problem. They belong together, they really do. A world where those two aren’t madly in love with each other, isn’t a world for me.”

  “Wow, Tori, I never pegged you for the hopeless romantic type.” He blew a cloud of suds off his hand in her direction. She ducked even though it didn’t have enough steam to reach her.

  “I’m not, I mean…I wasn’t, but you don’t understand. Walker and Erika have that epic kind of love, and if they can’t make it and work through all the ridiculous bullshit for the sake of that level of love, then what hope do the rest of us have, you know? I mean, they’ve been head over heels since Erika moved to Florida and let him tattoo her. The timing was just off, I guess, so they went on with their lives loving each other from afar, but were both miserable. I just want to open a message that says we worked it all out and are getting married and you’re the maid of honor and we’ll name all our kids after their favorite aunt.”

  Tori started snort-laughing and buried her face in her hands from embarrassment.

  “Oh, my God, Princess, are you snorting? Talk about epic.” Michael joined her and their laughter echoed through the cabin. “So, will you be disappointed with anything less than all that? What if they can’t get past the lie, the secret, the anger?”

  The question seemed innocent enough, but Tori picked up on something that told her the way she answered that question could alter their course. “Well, if Erika would stop acting like she’s fourteen and just talk to Walker, and he could let go of all his preconceived notions and just listen, then all those things would lose the power they’ve given them. Walker would see that she didn’t really deceive him, not in the way he thinks anyhow, and Erika would see his love is hers for the taking and his anger isn’t at her but at what he believes because of his past. See, simple. If people just talk, say what’s on their mind, no matter if they think it will hurt, it diminishes a whole Hell of a lot of its power and makes them stronger in the process.”

  While Michael seemed to chew on that and continue washing dishes, Tori opened her e-mail app. A shot of elation coursed through her when she saw the partially-downloaded message from Walker.

  It opened with the old I have good and bad news, but with an added category of news that will keep until you get home. Apparently, he and Erika had worked things out and they had a beautiful daughter but Erika was in an accident and was in the hospital.

  “What’s that?” Michael voice broke through her chaotic thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  “I was asking what you said?”

  Tori hadn’t realized she’d been speaking out loud. She hopped up, tossed her suitcase on the bed, and started throwing stuff in it. “I’ve gotta go, like now. I’m an aunt and my best friend is hurt and…”

  Michael spun her around and broke the loop she was stuck in, gently kissing her. “Take a deep breath, and tell me what was in that e-mail?”

  Exhaling long and slow, Tori tried to answer, “Erika’s had an accident and is in the hospital. Walker is with her and I’m an aunt.” She tucked her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest to absorb his calm heartbeat into her body. “My best friend just gave birth to my very first niece and I wasn’t there for her. Plus, something bad happened and I wasn’t there for her. What kind of friend misses those things? Also, there’s something else, but Walker didn’t want to put it in an e-mail. It must be pretty bad, because as much as I adore my brother, he usually has the tact of a bull charging through the streets of Pamplona. I have to go. I need to…”

  Ungluing her from
his chest, Michael forced her eyes to meet his and her mouth to close with a gentle but firm tilt of her chin. “First, Princess, you can’t follow your friend around like a puppy in case something happens, you’re an adult, she’s an adult. You both have your own lives. Got it?”

  Nodding her understanding was apparently the go-ahead he needed. “Secondly, from what you’ve told me, no one knew she was pregnant, not just you, but your brother. If you didn’t know, that’s not on you. You with me so far?”

  “But…”

  Michael put a finger to her lips and continued, “Lastly, did the e-mail request your presence?” Tori hated shaking her head to the negative. She felt like they didn’t need her, they were coping just fine, and as much as she wanted that for them, it was a harsh reality to accept.

  “Did they even hint that you should cut your trip short? From what you’ve told me, your mother was insistent that you come. I have to assume that if your family is a tight-knit as you’ve led me to believe, she is right there in the thick of it, directing the show and even keeping the hospital staff on their toes, am I right?”

  She loathed to admit that he was spot on. Drawing into herself and folding her arms over her chest, she felt a touch of sadness.

  “You’re right, they specifically said to save my worries, or more accurately, ‘don’t pay interest in worry by borrowing trouble.’ Which means one hundred percent that my mother had a hand in the e-mail. No one talks like that but her.” She turned and moved her haphazardly, partially-packed bag off the bed and took its place.

  “You know, I’m not liking this whole Spock side of you too much. I like to be the logical one.”