Beautiful Scars Part 16

s.h.i.+t. Closing her eyes, she lowered her head. How did she respond to that, she wondered. I've loved you my entire life...and I don't know if this is going to last...

"If you're already having doubts about us, we're doomed, you know," he said quietly.

"I don't even think there is an us yet, Marc."

She looked up as he reached for the towel lying on the counter by them and slowly wiped his hands off.

"There's been an us for a lot longer than I realized," he said softly. "It just took me a little while to see it."

She turned away, looking for anything to stare at, to occupy her mind. "Marc, for there to be an us, we'd need to know."

"Do you know what I've missed the past few years? More than anything I can think of?" He stared at her, his eyes lingering over her face, studying it. Searching it. "You. I'd find myself thinking about you. And I'd call you. Sometimes you were there. Sometimes you weren't. When you weren't...it made the day darker. When you were, it...well...you made the day. There was an us. I just didn't see it. Come on. Let's eat."

Every time, d.a.m.n it. Every time she was almost close to level, he shattered the very foundation under her feet. Sliding off the stool, she edged around the island, keeping a little bit of distance between them. "Could we eat outside?" she asked, glancing toward the doorway that led to the deck she'd seen. There was no real desire to sit outside, but if she had a few more minutes...

The look in Marc's eyes told her he knew exactly what she was doing. But he shrugged and gestured. "Sure. Take the basket of bread and our drinks. I'll be out with the rest in a minute."

She looked at the island with the salad, the dish of lasagna. "I can carry things out."

"So can I," he said mildly. "Go out outside. There's a fire pit on the table. It's gas. Why don't you light it?"

"Okay."

d.a.m.n it. She'd wanted a few minutes to try and get herself under control and now she was going to be eating a dinner by firelight with him...

Every d.a.m.n way I turn...

Outside, she set the gla.s.ses together at one end. She'd thought about setting them farther apart-him at the head, her at the foot of the table. Just to give herself some of that badly needed s.p.a.ce. And yeah, that would have gone over really well. So instead she did what just fell natural, the two of them, sitting side by side, staring out over the water.

Jerking his chain wouldn't be smart.

Although it would be a h.e.l.l of a lot easier if he'd give her a little bit of s.p.a.ce. Just a little.

She fiddled with the k.n.o.bs on the fire pit and watched as it flared to life, smiling absently. It was pretty-brightly colored rocks that looked like gla.s.s in the base, reflecting the light. Easing back, she turned away and moved to stand at the railing, staring out over the lake. The wind kicked up, blowing her hair and tangling her skirt around her legs.

Hearing the door open, she turned around and saw him balancing the plates, waiter style on his arm. She laughed and leaned back against the railing. "I forgot you used to do that sort of thing for a living," she said.

"A handy skill, juggling four plates," he said dryly. He set them down and headed back inside. "Back in a minute."

A few minutes later, he was back outside with silverware and cloth napkins in a deep shade of burgundy. She sat down, about ready to pop off with another quip, but she glanced up, saw him watching her. Waiting. She needed to stop this, she knew. Blowing out a breath, she said, "It looks pretty decent for a guy who used to burn mac and cheese."

"Yeah, well, wait until you try it, smart a.s.s," he muttered.

She smiled and took a bite of the salad. It was good, although salads were easy.

"You afraid to try the lasagna?"

Rolling her eyes, she scooped up a bite and tried it. Then she blinked and shot him a look. "Wow."

A smug grin curved his lips as he cut into his. "Told you."

"You really need to work on that humility problem of yours, Marc. People just don't know what to make of overly humble people."

He chuckled and for a few minutes they ate in a light, companionable silence.

The lasagna was probably better than any she could make. Of course, she didn't do much cooking lately. Sometimes she and Shera decided to do something, but for the most part, she stuck with the cheap and the basic, out of necessity. "Who taught you to cook?" she asked after she'd done everything but lick the enamel off the plate. Breaking a piece of her bread off, she told herself she wasn't going to be jealous when he said it had been a girlfriend.

"My drummer's wife." He leaned back, eyeing like he knew what she was thinking. "She's my a.s.sistant. You've met her. Ilona?"

"Yeah." Cute. Funny. Biting sense of humor. Chaili had liked her. "I'm surprised she had the patience to do it."

"Oh, she's got the patience of a saint. She just hides it well." He glanced at her plate. "Want more? I made enough to feed an army."

"No." She patted her belly. "I ate far more than I needed to anyway."

She nipped another bite of the bread and immediately choked when he said, "Take your s.h.i.+rt off."

Reaching for her gla.s.s of water, she glared at him. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Absolutely not." He smiled at her, stroking his thumb down the line of his jaw. "Take off your s.h.i.+rt."

She looked around, but the way the layout of his house was designed, n.o.body would be able to see them unless they were either on the deck with them, or out on the water.

Still, she was blus.h.i.+ng as she stripped the s.h.i.+rt off. Folding it, she set it down on the table and lifted her head to find him skimming his eyes along her body. They didn't even hesitate on the scars, she noticed. It was like the scars were the same to him as her belly, her legs... Except they weren't. Closing her eyes, she fought the urge to hide, could even feel her shoulders slumping, her feet itching with the need to turn away.

"Look at me."

Staring at him through her lashes, she held her hands fisted at her sides.

"You ready for dessert?"

The look on her face might have been comical, except there was nothing funny about the way she kept trying to pull away from him. He was tired of it. It was like she couldn't stop herself, and even though she wasn't backpedaling as much now as she had been, he figured the best thing to do was just keep her off balance a little.

Seemed fair.

He'd been off balance ever since he'd walked into Escorte and seen her standing there.

"Dessert?" she echoed, looking down at her bare chest and then up at him. Sighing, she brushed her hair back and rested her elbows on the table. "You really plan to make me eat dessert naked, Marc?"

"You're not naked," he pointed out. Echoing her pose, he held her gaze even though all he wanted to do was shove the table out of the way-would be kind of hard to do that too. The table had been built into the deck. That little fact didn't matter. He still wanted to do it, wanted to lay her out on the long bench, spread her thighs, hold her open and bare and strip away all the barriers, all the walls... and just have her.

Have all of her. Have everything.

No walls. No barriers.

Just them.

She smirked at him. "Okay, so I'm wearing a skirt. Close enough to naked. What's the point of this?"

"The point is, I want to see you sitting there, naked under that skirt. Firelight on your skin. And I want to think about what I'm going to do to you next," he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He left her sitting there, face flushed, lips parted. And for a minute, he thought maybe she'd be too distracted to think about how uncomfortable she was.

He dumped the dishes in the sink. It was Sunday-that meant tomorrow Heloise would be in to clean. Thank G.o.d. Normally, he'd at least try to make a dent in the mess he'd made. His mom had drilled that into his head, but he didn't want to think about anything other than Chaili at this point.

He grabbed the dessert from the fridge, just a single plate. He hadn't made this. Dessert, he couldn't do. He either rushed it or forgot and burned things, or something and they never turned out right.

But he knew a lady who made a mean chocolate mousse... Ilona was going to kill him if he kept begging for favors. He just might owe her a kidney or something if this kept up.

Back out on the deck, he saw Chaili sitting there, fidgeting with the fringe on her skirt with one hand, the other gripping her shoulder, partially hiding her chest.

She lifted her head and for a moment, he just stared.

How in the h.e.l.l had he missed this? Standing there, looking in those jewel-toned eyes, watching him in that way she had, how that slow smile tugged at her lips, feeling that kick to his gut...how had he missed this?

Clearing his throat, he headed over to the table and sat next to her, straddling the bench. He lifted her knees, drawing her into the cradle of his body. "You know, when I was headed over to Escorte, the night of that party...I started thinking," he said, taking a spoon and dipping it into the mousse.

"Thinking, huh?" She leaned in, peering at the bowl. "Oh, d.a.m.n. Is that chocolate?"

"Yep. And if you're going to be a smart a.s.s, I'll keep it for myself." He took the bite he'd been planning on giving to her and slid it into his mouth, winking at her. "I can speak from experience...it's delicious."

She narrowed her eyes. "You shouldn't tempt a woman about chocolate, Marc. It's not fair."

"You shouldn't keep poking at me, unless you really want a reaction," he said, shrugging. "Anyway, I was heading over there, irritated as h.e.l.l that I was going to have to put up with some woman I didn't know. Most of the women Shera has at Escorte are nice ladies, I know that. Polite, they can talk about s.h.i.+t that's way over my head, but..." He shrugged. "They bore me."

"Then why do it?" She made a grab for the spoon.

He caught her wrist. "Nope. I feed you."

Sighing, she snuggled in against him.

"Open." He scooped up a bite, held it up.

She took it, closed her lips and moaned.

The sound of it shot straight to his d.i.c.k. d.a.m.n it. He fed her another bite and this time, she made a little humming sound under her breath. "Gimme more," she demanded.

"Be patient."

He ate some more, grinning at her as she shot him a look that threatened to send him to the hospital. "You've got a thing for chocolate, I see."

"Yes, I do." She poked him in the ribs. "You're bordering into mean territory there, pal."

"Yeah, yeah." He fed her a few more bites, relis.h.i.+ng the way she relaxed against him, the way she smiled. Yeah, he was really questioning just how he'd missed this.

"You never answered me," she said quietly.

"Answered...oh. Escorte...you're distracting me again, you know. You keep making these little humming sounds while you're eating and it's like you're getting turned on just by the chocolate, and my d.i.c.k's getting jealous." He helped himself to another bite and then fed her one. "It's easy. She's careful about who she hires and the women like the money, they like the job...most of them know she's going to unleash holy h.e.l.l if they violate the agreements they sign so I know it's...safe. For the most part. Usually there's one girl she sets me up with and I like her well enough." He shrugged. "I guess she was busy that night. Thank G.o.d."

"But why do it? I mean, h.e.l.l, Marc...you can't tell me you've got trouble finding dates," she said, tipping her head back and staring up at him.

"It's not the finding them," he muttered. Dropping the spoon into the bowl, he eased her off his lap and turned around, staring out over the water. "It's keeping things on a level I'm comfortable, without doing something or saying something that will p.i.s.s somebody off. There was a woman I was just keeping a friendly thing with- Ah..." He slanted a look at her and shrugged. "This is complicated...but there were just a mess of screwed-up relations.h.i.+ps. The worst one was a few years ago. A friend... Ah. Well. We'd been friends. It got to be more. Then it wasn't. Things didn't go well from there."

Chaili lifted the spoon, scooping more of the mousse into her mouth. Then, she held a bite to his lips. "Ended bad, huh?"

Blowing out a breath, he said quietly, "It was my manager. Lily. We'd been going along fine, then she up and messes around with a friend of mine. I walked in. Then I walked out and packed up her s.h.i.+t, told her to get out. They told me I'm taking it too personally. Whatever. That lasted about a week and then one day, she comes out here, wants to talk. First she tried just..." He paused, twisting it over in his mind.

Chaili snorted. "She thought she could screw you into letting it go?"

"That sums it up. I didn't buy it. Told her to leave. Then she tried convincing me how it was a horrible mistake and she was so sorry. When that didn't work..." He closed his eyes, blew out a breath. This was it. The thing that sent him spinning around the country, the world, for months on end. Rarely stopping for more than five minutes. "She told me if I tried to walk away, she was going to tell everybody I raped her. That I abused her. She tried to claim there was video..." He trailed off, waiting for that punch of anger, that twist of shame.

All that was there, though, was some bit of resignation. He'd really cared about Lily.

Really.

It wouldn't have ever been love, he knew that. But she'd mattered to him. And then she'd done that.

"She would hurt you that way," Chaili said, her voice all but vibrating with fury.

He shrugged jerkily. "Hey, up until a week or so ago, I was just having some seriously f.u.c.ked-up luck when it came to women. Maybe it's because I was seeing the wrong ones."

He went to touch her shoulder, but she brushed his hand away, surging up off the bench to pace.

Well, he mused, she wasn't too concerned about her lack of clothes now. Her short, deep brown hair was mussed and it got worse as she shoved her hands through it. "How in the h.e.l.l could she even say something like that? Was she f.u.c.ked up in the head or what?"

"Well, yeah." When she turned to look at him, Marc shrugged. "Good a reason as any."

He caught her hand and tugged her over to him, down onto his lap. "Calm down." He stroked a hand up her back, her shoulders, cupping his hand over her neck. "It's over and done."

"Don't tell me to calm down." She glared at him, a snarl twisting her lips. "That kind of s.h.i.+t is just plain evil. What made her stop?"

He studied her face, heaving out a breath. Figured he might as well go ahead and finish it. "My sister," he said, jerking a shoulder in a shrug. "She...well, we were at my place. Supposed to go out to dinner. The two of them showed up at the same time and I ended up in the studio with Lily while Shera was upstairs. I wasn't kidding when I said she was f.u.c.ked up in the head. Lily had been using for a while. It was getting out of hand. I dunno, something set Shera's mental alarm off. I've got the studio set up to record if I want. Shera's done it a few times...when I'm just messing around, working on a new piece. She slipped in. I didn't even notice. I was trying to pretend n.o.body was there and I just wanted Lily to leave.

"Lily was high, h.e.l.l, I ended up having to call a car for her, she was so strung out. So when she started with the threats, Shera had it all on video. Lily was getting all ugly and I ignored her for the most part, even though I guess part of me was worried. I told her to she had to go and she was heading to the door, swearing and making threats when Shera stopped us in the hall. She made us both go into the living room and she popped the DVD into the recorder. Shera told Lily if she ever bothered me again, that DVD would hit the inbox of every musician she could find-n.o.body wants to work with a manager who is going to pull that kind of s.h.i.+t. Lily came after Shera, but..."

Chaili grinned, a mean, happy little smile. "She hit her, didn't she? Hard?"

Marc shook his head. "I'm surrounded by bloodthirsty women. Yeah. Popped her one. Lily went down cold. That night..." He looked away. "She overdosed that night. Ended up in the hospital. She finally got clean, though. I heard from her a few months ago. She sent me a letter, told me she was sorry, wanted to...make amends."

"Did you tell her to f.u.c.k off?"

"You swear too much, Chaili," he teased. Resting a hand on her breastbone, he held her gaze. "I called her. She wanted to meet for dinner. Talk old times. Apologize. I told her she could apologize well enough over the phone if she had to, but it wasn't necessary." At the time, he'd been too angry with her, still. Now he realized it didn't matter anymore. He didn't need to be angry about it, but he also didn't need to see her again.

"Like h.e.l.l," she snapped.

He shook his head. "If she needs to do it, she needs to do it. I'm not angry with her. I just figured that out too. There's no reason for me to be. She was strung out on drugs half the time, on s.e.x the other half. She maintained a good front and I didn't even realize how bad off she was..." Frowning, he shrugged. "I wasn't good for her. If I'd seen how screwed up she was, maybe-hey!"

He rubbed his chest, glaring at her. "You trying to poke a hole in me or what?"