Holding Strong
Page 105
“No,” he agreed. “We haven’t spoken since and now Pamela wants me to just show up for a family party like the past isn’t there between us.”
Cherry wanted to make suggestions, but this was important—not just to Denver’s feelings or for his relationship with his dad, but maybe for his entire outlook on life.
Did he worry so much about her teasing with other guys because of how Pamela had betrayed both him and his father? She wasn’t a therapist, but it seemed pretty obvious to her.
Just as obvious was the fact that he needed to have as much faith in her as she had in him.
“You need to accept her invitation.”
His gaze cut her way, then returned to the road. “I don’t think—”
“You need to go, and you need to be nice.”
His jaw worked. Probably trying to placate her, he drew a breath, then asked mildly, “Why’s that?”
“You need to prove that you’ve moved beyond it.” Though they both knew he hadn’t, she felt that once he confronted his father and Pamela again—this time as a grown, confident man—he’d hopefully find some closure. “You need to show that Pamela doesn’t affect you, that you’ve never wanted her that way. Not then and not now.”
“I don’t care what Pamela thinks.”
“You wouldn’t be doing it for her. Not for your dad, either. And definitely not for me.”
His brows pinched down, but he listened.
“You need to prove it to you.”
“Shit.” He rubbed his mouth but he didn’t disagree. The seconds ticked by, and then a full minute before he said, “You’ll go with me?”
That was such an enormous sign of trust that her heart seemed to leap in her chest. She tried to tamp down the elation so he’d know she took it all very seriously. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”
He reached out for her hand, and when she put it in his, he gave her a squeeze. “It won’t be pleasant.”
“You might be surprised. But either way, I’d be happy to go with you.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you.”
“You’ll call her tonight to let her know to expect us?”
“Tomorrow is soon enough.” He flashed a mean grin. “If I time it right, I can just talk with the housekeeper and she can give Pamela the message.”
Cherry laughed. “Good plan.” Sensing he could use a detour after the seriousness of their discussion, she said, “So then, you know what I’d like to do tonight?”
Without missing a beat, he said, “Head to bed where I can make you scream and groan and show you how sorry I am for insulting you earlier?”
It took a second for her to reply after he painted that particular, enticing picture. Trying for cavalier detachment, she quipped, “Really, Denver? That’s the best you’ve got?”
“I’m horny as hell. How creative did you want me to be?”
Damn, she loved him. Someday maybe she’d get to tell him. “Know what? Yes, I want to do that.”
He almost drove the car off the road. He slowed, straightened in his seat, and sent her a sizzling look of encouragement.
Not that she needed any. “Tonight in fact, even though I already forgave you. And then this Friday, I’d like us to just have a date.”
Tense now that they’d discussed sex, he repeated, “A date?”
“Yeah, you know that unique concept where we actually go out together? And for a change I could look my best instead of like a train wreck.” As an example she lifted the hem of Armie’s too-big-for-her shirt, still inside out. “I deliberately put on a very cute outfit for you this morning, not that you can tell now. It seems ever since we got together, I’ve had one physical catastrophe after another. I want to look pretty for you.”
“Damn, girl.” He tugged at the leg of his jeans. “You’re always pretty.”
Aw, so sweet. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Slowing the car, he turned and pulled into a driveway. “Sure. Girls like to doll up. I get that. But I’m serious. You need to know that never, not for a single second, not while you were sick and sure as shit not while you were soaking wet with clothes glued to your body, have I ever thought you didn’t look amazing.”
A bubble of happiness expanded inside her. “You are such a sweet talker.”
“Lust inspires me.”
“I agree to sex—which should be a given by now—and you go all poetic?”
Cherry wanted to make suggestions, but this was important—not just to Denver’s feelings or for his relationship with his dad, but maybe for his entire outlook on life.
Did he worry so much about her teasing with other guys because of how Pamela had betrayed both him and his father? She wasn’t a therapist, but it seemed pretty obvious to her.
Just as obvious was the fact that he needed to have as much faith in her as she had in him.
“You need to accept her invitation.”
His gaze cut her way, then returned to the road. “I don’t think—”
“You need to go, and you need to be nice.”
His jaw worked. Probably trying to placate her, he drew a breath, then asked mildly, “Why’s that?”
“You need to prove that you’ve moved beyond it.” Though they both knew he hadn’t, she felt that once he confronted his father and Pamela again—this time as a grown, confident man—he’d hopefully find some closure. “You need to show that Pamela doesn’t affect you, that you’ve never wanted her that way. Not then and not now.”
“I don’t care what Pamela thinks.”
“You wouldn’t be doing it for her. Not for your dad, either. And definitely not for me.”
His brows pinched down, but he listened.
“You need to prove it to you.”
“Shit.” He rubbed his mouth but he didn’t disagree. The seconds ticked by, and then a full minute before he said, “You’ll go with me?”
That was such an enormous sign of trust that her heart seemed to leap in her chest. She tried to tamp down the elation so he’d know she took it all very seriously. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”
He reached out for her hand, and when she put it in his, he gave her a squeeze. “It won’t be pleasant.”
“You might be surprised. But either way, I’d be happy to go with you.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you.”
“You’ll call her tonight to let her know to expect us?”
“Tomorrow is soon enough.” He flashed a mean grin. “If I time it right, I can just talk with the housekeeper and she can give Pamela the message.”
Cherry laughed. “Good plan.” Sensing he could use a detour after the seriousness of their discussion, she said, “So then, you know what I’d like to do tonight?”
Without missing a beat, he said, “Head to bed where I can make you scream and groan and show you how sorry I am for insulting you earlier?”
It took a second for her to reply after he painted that particular, enticing picture. Trying for cavalier detachment, she quipped, “Really, Denver? That’s the best you’ve got?”
“I’m horny as hell. How creative did you want me to be?”
Damn, she loved him. Someday maybe she’d get to tell him. “Know what? Yes, I want to do that.”
He almost drove the car off the road. He slowed, straightened in his seat, and sent her a sizzling look of encouragement.
Not that she needed any. “Tonight in fact, even though I already forgave you. And then this Friday, I’d like us to just have a date.”
Tense now that they’d discussed sex, he repeated, “A date?”
“Yeah, you know that unique concept where we actually go out together? And for a change I could look my best instead of like a train wreck.” As an example she lifted the hem of Armie’s too-big-for-her shirt, still inside out. “I deliberately put on a very cute outfit for you this morning, not that you can tell now. It seems ever since we got together, I’ve had one physical catastrophe after another. I want to look pretty for you.”
“Damn, girl.” He tugged at the leg of his jeans. “You’re always pretty.”
Aw, so sweet. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Slowing the car, he turned and pulled into a driveway. “Sure. Girls like to doll up. I get that. But I’m serious. You need to know that never, not for a single second, not while you were sick and sure as shit not while you were soaking wet with clothes glued to your body, have I ever thought you didn’t look amazing.”
A bubble of happiness expanded inside her. “You are such a sweet talker.”
“Lust inspires me.”
“I agree to sex—which should be a given by now—and you go all poetic?”
