Close to Home Part 9

"Johnny is very protective. Not just of me, but it's always been a big part of our relations.h.i.+p. When we met, I needed his help very much, and I continued to rely on him for longer than I should have. It's not his fault-he's not trying to smother me, or anything."

Dr. Voss gave Tessa a grave nod. "I never imagined that was the case."

Tessa relaxed a bit, and Johnny had to hand it to the doc. She was a pro. Using misdirection, she'd pushed Tessa into opening up. He stared at Dr. Voss with new respect, but the woman's entire focus was on Tessa.

"Good. Johnny isn't the problem here. I'm the one who demanded to be allowed to try the exercise on my own, even after you told us it was about teamwork, and I'm the one who get all hot and bothered when it turned out to be harder than I thought." Tessa shook her head in dismay and Johnny ached with the need to reach out to her, to pull her back from the brink of herself. But when she turned to him, the clear resolve in her eyes told him a hug wasn't what she needed just then.

Johnny's mouth went dry. G.o.d, she was gorgeous. And stronger than she even knew. They locked eyes for a long, heated instant that brought a flush of beautiful color to her pale cheeks.

Tessa glanced back to their therapist. "You asked why I got so frustrated. I'm not sure what the answer is, but I guess it probably has to do with the way I was raised."

In a few brief, dispa.s.sionate words, Tessa outlined her past for Dr. Voss. The commune, the back-to-nature philosophy, the home-schooling ... her parents. "They were very dedicated to their way of life. Well, are, I suppose. I a.s.sume they're still on the commune. I'm no longer welcome there, and I've never gotten a response from any of the letters I've sent my mother over the years."

Johnny's eyebrows went up. He hadn't been aware that Tessa had reached out to her mother, or that she'd endured the heartache of getting only silence in return.

"I got my GED after I married Johnny," Tessa was saying to Dr. Voss, the pride in her tone a bare echo of how proud he'd felt the day he'd come home from work to find Terri clutching the official certificate in her trembling hand.

He hadn't even known she was studying for the test, he remembered now, grimacing at the memory of how he'd picked her up and swung her around in celebration ... then told her she should have let him know so he could help.

Talk about a hard habit to break.

"After I got my GED, I took a few cla.s.ses at the community college," Tessa continued. "That was my first experience in a cla.s.sroom with other students."

Johnny blinked. He'd never thought that through, and she'd never mentioned it. "Was it weird?"

"Yes, very." Tessa reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture left over from her Terri days. "Home-schooling with my mother-she did her best, but let's just say that questions were not encouraged. There wasn't a lot of discussion, different interpretations of what things might mean, different readings and opinions. Those community college cla.s.ses were nothing but different opinions! And the questions, not just clarifying facts, but actually questioning the professor's findings or arguing with the textbook! I couldn't believe it. And I definitely didn't know how to handle it."

"That must have been frustrating," Dr. Voss said.

Tessa smiled faintly. "And upsetting. I nearly stopped after the first semester. I do my best not to think about how hard things were for me back then. But it was the first thing that popped into my head when you asked why I hated this exercise so much. It was because it felt exactly like sitting in that cla.s.sroom with everyone around me talking over each other, debating with each other, while I had no idea how to join in."

And then she'd discovered that Johnny had known the answer all along, just like those college kids who hadn't included her.

"So when I turn away your help and get frustrated because I can't do something," she concluded, "it taps into all the pain I felt after I left home."

"I had no idea you were going through all that."

"You were busy, and I hid it well," Tessa said with a rueful smile. "I wanted you to think I was strong, mature, capable ... You know, it's funny; now that I actually feel stronger and more capable, it's less scary for me to show it when I'm frustrated. Maybe that's progress."

"If it matters," Johnny said, chest tight, "I think you're amazing for accomplis.h.i.+ng what you did back then-and I think you're amazing now, for how far you've come."

Tessa flushed and ducked her head, and Johnny felt warmth spread through him at the pleased look on her face.

Johnny was still staring at his wife, caught in the undertow of an emotion he couldn't name, when Dr. Voss tucked her clipboard back under her arm and said, "I think we've done excellent work today. See you again on Friday?"

Walking Clover out of the ring, she left Tessa and Johnny gazing at one another in a moment of hushed intimacy, with new information and the start of a new understanding filling the empty air between them.

Chapter 11.

Marcus looked both ways before peering through the bakery window. The coast was clear. He seized his moment and pushed open the door.

"It's been a week," the old lady who owned the place was yelling over her shoulder. "I can't believe you still haven't told him I want to sell this place to you."

He paused with one hand on the door handle. Marcus had zero interest in getting in the middle of some personal conversation between the bakery ladies. But before he could make up his mind to ditch, Miss Patty turned back to pin him with a narrow stare.

"You again," she said, mouth twisting into a smirking half smile. "What is this, the fifth day in a row? If you're not careful, you'll get to be a regular."

Marcus stiffened at the idea that his movements were becoming predictable, but he forced himself to relax. He was home now. Even if it didn't feel like it, most of the time.

Even if he hadn't actually gone back to the house where he grew up, yet. The house where his father still lived.

"I'll have a couple of the sticky buns," he said, reaching for his wallet.

"Not much for small talk, are you? Well, too bad. Tessa's too busy kneading dough to chat with me, not to mention she wants to avoid having this conversation again," Patty said, raising her voice on the last bit before c.o.c.king her head at Marcus. "So you can stand here and shoot the p.o.o.p with me for a quick minute while I bag up your breakfast, m'kay?"

"Sounds like I don't have much of a choice." Reluctantly amused, Marcus tapped the edge of his wallet on the counter and regarded the bakery owner thoughtfully. He'd developed a soft spot for Patty over the past few days since he gave in to the curiosity about the treats Quinn had brought to her unscheduled job interview.

Patty was about five foot nothing, with the final few inches made up by the height of her short gray curls. She wore no makeup-probably it was too hot for it back by the ovens-but she still somehow smelled like the inside of a woman's cosmetic case, waxy and powdery. That scent, plus the fact that she was as sharp as the business end of a broken bottle, with a dry, unexpectedly twisted sense of humor combined to remind Marcus of things he'd prefer to forget.

"That's right," she said with a decisive bob of her salt-and-pepper curls. "No choice at all. So what's shakin', bacon? I hear you've got some help over at that den of iniquity you're building."

Right, of course. His pushy new tenant's wife-ex-wife? Marcus didn't know and wasn't planning to ask-worked at Patty Cakes. And, of course, his pushy new employee, Quinn, also frequented the shop, but he hadn't seen her since she tricked him into hiring her.

He absolutely wasn't hoping to run into her, but if he did, he'd take the opportunity to let her know she didn't need to come in to work for him, if she'd changed her mind.

Miss Patty was most likely talking about Johnny, though. Marcus nodded once.

Luckily, Patty didn't seem to need much more conversation partic.i.p.ation from him than that. "That's real good. I bet things are moving along a lot faster with four hands instead of two. And it's nice to have some company. I couldn't believe what a difference it made, when Tessa came to work with me."

Marcus couldn't say he had noticed a huge difference, beyond the annoyance of having another person around all the time. A slight uptick in the speed of repairs and renovations, maybe, although half the time it probably would've been faster to do them alone than to take the time to explain what he wanted. He grunted noncommittally.

"Of course, very few partners.h.i.+ps click instantly," Miss Patty said, peering at him keenly. "It can be hard to get used to relying on someone else."

Marcus had the uncomfortable feeling that the old lady was reading his mind and responding to his thoughts rather than his-admittedly terse-words.

He cleared his throat and wished she'd bag up the sticky buns already. Talking to her, or rather, listening to her, was tough. The cadence of Miss Patty's voice and the Southern tw.a.n.g were all her own, but there was a sarcastic edge to her words and an abruptness that was sharply familiar to Marcus. Miss Patty was a woman who took no bull and tolerated no fools. Marcus could respect that quality, even as it broke open the jagged wound of his past.

But a wound hidden away and covered up never healed, so Marcus made an effort.

"So." The words stuck at the back of his tongue, but he coughed and pushed them out. "You're thinking about selling this place?"

"Heard that, did you?" Miss Patty sent a s.h.i.+fty look over her shoulder, jerking a thumb in the direction of her baking a.s.sistant. "Well, don't go spreading it around, because I'm not sure it's going to work out. I'm not looking to sell to just anyone, and that one isn't sure she can sc.r.a.pe up the cash. I wish I could afford to give it to her outright, but not only would she not accept it-which I respect, a woman needs to know she can make her own way in this world-but the main reason I'm even contemplating selling out is on doctor's orders. With my health and medical bills being what they are, I need a nest egg. Or a rich husband, one or the other."

Miss Patty leered cheerfully at him, clearly relis.h.i.+ng the chance to make him uncomfortable.

Marcus's innate contrary streak rea.s.serted itself for the first time in months. He leaned on the counter and gave Miss Patty a slow, filthy smile. "I'm not the marrying kind, but would you settle for a rich, young sugar daddy?"

Cackling with delight, Miss Patty yelled into the back, "Tessa, get out here, we're changing the name of the bakery!"

"What?" The younger baker appeared, holding her hands clear of her sides to avoid getting wet, sticky dough everywhere. "Oh! h.e.l.lo."

"Call up Noah Hackley and get him out here to change our sign," Miss Patty chortled, slapping her thighs. "Patty Cakes is no more! From now on, this place will be known as Sugar Daddy's."

The ruggedly handsome man smiling at Patty over the pastry case didn't look much like the taciturn, dangerous loner Johnny had described. Sure, there might be a slight burn of red over his cheekbones and across the back of his neck, he might be shaking his head in bemus.e.m.e.nt, but that was a fairly typical reaction to Patty's shameless flirting.

For the past week, Tessa had seen Johnny every single day. They'd continued their meetings with Dr. Voss, who had encouraged them to work on communicating even when she wasn't around. It wasn't always easy, but it was addictive. Tessa was learning more about the man she'd married than she'd ever known.

Tessa was horribly afraid she was in danger of falling in love with her husband all over again. Thank goodness she'd managed to keep from kissing him anymore, in spite of heavy temptation in the form of walks along the beach, quiet moments over gla.s.ses of wine, and, well, basically every time she looked into Johnny's dark, shadowed eyes.

It was possible Tessa was in a bit of a pickle. Because in all the sharing and discussing and communicating, she hadn't managed to tell Johnny about Patty's offer to sell her the bakery.

Oh, and also, Johnny had still never once said, "I love you."

So basically Tessa was treading water; not sinking, but not exactly floating, either. And in the meantime, one of the things they had managed to talk about was the man Johnny was living with.

According to her husband, Marcus Beckett was bad news. Looking at Marcus now, waggling his brows and flexing while Patty gleefully upped the ante by batting her lashes and squeezing his formidable biceps, Tessa had a hard time seeing Marcus as a villain.

As she'd finally exclaimed to Johnny when he was walking her home the night before, it felt as though Johnny were searching for a reason to be on his guard.

"You sound like Dr. Voss," Johnny had said, scowling.

Tessa would not be derailed. "I obviously don't know Marcus Beckett well, but it seems to me that you don't, either. You've spent a week sharing s.p.a.ce with the man, working side by side, and you've barely got more information than the gut instinct you started out with!"

"One, my gut instinct is nothing to sneeze at," Johnny'd replied. "And two, I know a bit more than that. Like for instance that his family is from here, but this whole week I haven't seen him visit or call them one single time."

"Not being in touch with your family is hardly evidence of criminal behavior," Tessa had said, a bit stiffly, thinking of the last time she'd written to her mother and gotten the envelope back, unopened and marked "Return to Sender."

On bad days, Tessa tortured herself by wondering if her mother wanted to read the letters, but her father wouldn't allow it. She wasn't under any illusions about how angry he'd been that Tessa left home and escaped his control. On worse days, she wondered if her mother was dead, and no one had bothered to let her only daughter know.

The uncertainty, along with the ache of regrets and unresolved anger, would eat a hole through Tessa's heart if she let it.

"You're right," Johnny said immediately. "Of course there are plenty of reasons for families to grow apart."

Tessa could tell he'd made the connection to her situation, and he was sorry he'd brought it up. That, and the stroke of his hand up the back of her neck, let her breathe out the pain on a sigh of acceptance.

Johnny's fingers lingered at her nape. He seemed fascinated by the newly bared skin there, his fingertips returning again and again, sensitizing the tender patch of skin unbearably. Tessa had yet to ask him to stop.

"Anyway, that's not all," he'd gone on, doggedly determined to make his point. "There's also the fact that he hired Quinn Harper."

"Oh, here we go." Tessa pulled away from his touch.

Johnny's brow wrinkled. He honestly seemed to have no idea why Tessa was irked. "What do you mean?"

"Forget about it." Tessa sighed, wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

"No, you've got something to say about this situation. I want to hear it."

"I'm pretty sure you don't."

"I know you don't seem to like Quinn, for some reason, but if you'd spent any time with Marcus Beckett, you'd be worried about her, too."

Tessa averted her gaze from Johnny's disappointed scowl. "Honestly? I like Quinn a lot-from what I know of her, she seems like a caring, warm, funny young woman. But my feelings about her are irrelevant," she said quietly. "Your feelings are what concern me."

He'd reared back like she'd slapped him, shock widening his eyes. "I don't have feelings for her! I'm married to you-I'm only here on this island to fight for our marriage. You honestly think I'd waste my time chasing after a kid like Quinn when it would put our marriage at risk?"

Tessa couldn't help but notice that it was their marriage he cited as a reason for his loyalty-not his overwhelming, undeniable love for his wife. Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, she'd said, "Of course I'm not saying you're falling for her, or trying to seduce her or something. But you can't deny she presses your b.u.t.tons. She seems like maybe she needs help. And you can't resist that."

"Helping people is my job!"

"Quinn isn't one of your a.s.signments. She's just a nice woman who's making a choice you don't happen to agree with. But it's her choice, and you can't save her from it. You're a good man, Johnny, but you can't save everyone."

Real pain tightened his features for a moment. His eyes were inky black pools of anguish. "Believe me, I know that. No one knows it better."

Confused, Tessa had paused, unsure what he meant. She had the sudden feeling that she was fumbling through a pitch-dark room and her splayed fingers had just found a light switch. "Johnny?"

He'd shaken his head like a horse resisting the bridle, then taken a step back, his dark eyes shuttering once more. "You know there's nothing going on between Quinn and me. This is an excuse not to commit to our marriage, and I won't accept it. I'm a lot of things, Tessa, but you can't accuse me of disloyalty."

That had been the end of the fight, because Johnny had stalked off and left Tessa standing in front of her door with a bruised heart and a sense that there were still huge parts of her husband's soul that were completely hidden from her.

"Yoo-hoo, earth to Tessa!"

She jolted, blinking to realize Marcus and Patty were both staring at her. Embarra.s.sed, Tessa rubbed her sticky hands together with a grimace. "Sorry! I'm still waking up, I guess. Is there coffee in the carafe?"

"There was," Patty admitted, looking s.h.i.+fty. "But it's gone now. I'll brew a new pot."

She grabbed the empty carafe they kept out front to sell by the cup and sauntered toward the back kitchen, leaving Tessa alone with Marcus. Who had his wallet out on the counter and an unhappy glower on his face.

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Mr. Beckett. What did you order? I'll bag it up while Patty gets the coffee going. Did you want a cup to go with your...?"

"Sticky buns," he said, still frowning distractedly in the direction Patty had disappeared. "Did she drink that whole carafe of coffee herself?"

Tessa whipped out a piece of wax paper and grabbed the biggest sticky bun on the tray. "What? Oh, probably. She's terribly addicted."

"She shouldn't drink that much caffeine." Marcus pinned Tessa with a glare. "It's not good for her heart. She has a heart condition, doesn't she."

It didn't sound like a question, the way he said it, but Tessa nodded slowly in affirmation. "How did you know?"

His gaze turned inward, unhappy and distant. "I recognize the signs. And she told me about the deal she wants to make you."

Feeling awkward discussing her personal affairs with a man she hardly knew, Tessa focused on wrapping the sticky buns up and sliding them into a brown paper bag with the bakery's logo stamped on the front. "Well. We're still talking about it."