Bad Engagement (Billionaire's Club #10) - Elise Faber Page 0,60
“With my sister.”
“I kn—”
Her words died on her lips.
“With your sister?” she asked numbly, her fury turning to horror to embarrassment to fear. Because this would make him change his mind.
“Yes, Red.”
She’d given him a glimpse of the terrified woman inside and—
A hand on her jaw, tilting her head back, forcing her eyes to his. “Stop.”
“I—”
He kissed her.
The soil—okay, it was really mud—squished between their chests, a cold shock sinking into her skin even as his mouth scorched her to the bone.
He pulled back. “I shouldn’t have lied.” He rested his forehead to hers. “My sister, Tammy, showed up unexpectedly, and I took advantage of her to help me buy your gift.”
“Jaime—”
“I lied,” he said. “I promised to build trust, and I didn’t do that.”
“No,” she said, gripping his arms. “I was there buying your gift, and I saw you with her, and . . . I didn’t trust you.” Shame washed over her. “I acted like an idiot, calling and texting instead of just walking up to you and finding out the truth.”
“Patience.”
“I know.” She blinked. “I didn’t have any. I’m sorry. I should have—”
“No, Red. I meant you need to have patience with yourself.”
She froze. “You’re not mad?”
“That you’re digging the hole you want to bury my body in?” He rubbed his nose against hers. “No, baby. Fuck, I don’t know what I would have done if I was in the same boat as you. Freaked out? Beat the asshole up? Kissed you in front of everyone and make it clear you were mine?”
She bit her lip. “I should have gone for the last.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I would have voted for, too.”
“I don’t want to have a hard time trusting you,” she said, voice shaking. “I love you and want to not doubt us together, to not doubt you—”
“But we’ve been fake-engaged for a week,” he said. “Cut yourself some slack.”
Kate nodded and knew that it was time for her to tell him the last piece of the puzzle, something even Heidi didn’t know.
The real reason it was so hard for her to trust anyone.
“I didn’t use to be like this.”
He stilled, pale brown eyes on hers. She shivered.
“Hold on, honey,” he said gently, and then he bent, picked her up into his arms, and carried her into her house, bypassing the kitchen, the family room, moving up the stairs, and passed the bedroom.
He carried her all the way into the bathroom then turned on the shower.
It wasn’t until steam filled the space that she realized she was chilled to the bone and trembling.
Her shoes hit the floor. Her clothes joined them.
Jaime’s followed suit.
Then he was lifting her into his arms again, stepping into the shower stall, hot water sluicing over her, warming her, combining with his tight hold and stopping her shivers.
Only then did he say, “Tell me.”
Her eyes dropped to the tile and she sighed. “It’s stupid when I think of what started it.”
“I don’t care how stupid it is,” he said. “I just want to know what hurt you.” Fingers on her cheek. “Take away the power. Let the pain be washed away.”
“It’s not fair that you’re so normal and I’m—”
“Wonderful, smart, sexy, loveable Kate.”
She sniffed, released a ragged breath. And then she told him the reason her family had to move when she was in high school.
Why she’d gone away to college. Why it had been damned hard for Heidi to break through her tough shell, and her friend had only been successful because Heidi rivaled Kate in her stubbornness.
“I was bullied,” she admitted.
Surprise across his eyes and his jaw clenched. “Oh, Red.”
She shrugged. “At first, it was just normal kids’ stuff. A jerky boy who made fun of my hair, a mean girl who teased me for my freckles. God, this is so embarrassing.” She covered her face with her hands. “It’s so long ago—”
One move had her pressed to the tile.
She gasped at the cold tile on her back, contrasted against the hot body pressed to her front.
“Not stupid.” Terse words. “Tell me.”
Kate swallowed hard, knew that she would have an argument on her hands if she denied him. And . . . he was right. Wasn’t it beyond time for her to stop letting this have power over her?
“Middle school came,” she said. “I developed early.” And embarrassment gave way to anger, because what was done to her wasn’t right. It wasn’t stupid kid stuff any longer. It was mean and hurtful and . . . illegal. “I had