“Don’t go,” he finally said. “Please don’t go.”
His half-unbuttoned shirt looked ridiculous now, a parody of desire. “Believe me, I wanted to stay.” She shook her head. “No…I wanted you to stay,” she said, and left him.
Why was it so goddamn clear now? He’d manipulated her like she was a column of numbers instead of a person. He’d treated love like it was a business takeover. She’d been standing in his kitchen, naked, offering him more, and all he’d been able to think about was how to close the deal. This wasn’t about winning or making money. It wasn’t about getting his questions answered, or his craving satisfied. It wasn’t about getting her to say yes. Not anymore.
His phone rang, and he glanced at the display. “Hey, buddy.”
“You still in Norton?” Mark asked. “We’re on our way home.”
“Yeah, but maybe not for long. I screwed up, man.”
“Hang on.” He heard Mark say something, heard Alisa talking in the background and winced. “Okay, go ahead,” Mark said.
Ryan told him.
Mark said nothing, probably to keep his wife from stealing the phone and chewing him out. When he ran out of steam and self-recriminations, Mark chuckled. “Wow.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“Now I understand why Crystal was so pissed at me at the rehearsal dinner. She knew you were trouble.”
Ryan heard a female squawk. “Go ahead and tell her, man.”
“I’ll tell her in a minute. What are you going to do?”
Ryan thought for a moment. “She doesn’t work on Sundays and I don’t know where she lives.”
“Don’t even ask.”
“Ask you, my pussy-whipped friend? I wouldn’t dream of it. Put your wife on the phone.”
He could almost hear Mark shaking his head. Alisa came on the line. “I’m not telling you either. Not until I talk to Crystal and probably not even then. What did you do to her?”
“Mark will fill you in. Listen, will you do me a favor?” He talked over her curses. “Would you please check on her? I’m fully aware that I acted like an ass, but there’s not much I can do about it at the moment. I don’t want her to be sad or alone. Please?”
“I was going to call her anyway.”
“Thank you. Tell her—”
She grunted and hung up on him.
The urge to call a taxi and head Crystal off at Johnny’s bar was hard to resist, but she had said she needed space to function. He could give her a little space and give himself time to think about what had just happened—and what he wanted to happen in the future. She was wrong. This wasn’t a game to him. He’d sell his over-decorated houses and move his base of operations to Norton in a second, but he couldn’t do anything until he figured out a way to repair the damage he had done. No more manipulation. Chasing after her now and presenting her with a fait accompli wouldn’t show her he cared about her. It would be yet another power play. He groaned aloud as he realized that hopping on a plane to California was probably what she had expected him to do all along.
His coffee was cold, but he drank it anyway and then poured another cup. He stared off into space for a long time, thinking. That cup was cold too, by the time he remembered to drink it.
The doorbell rang, making his heart pound. He leapt to his feet, almost running to the door, even though he knew it couldn’t be her.
It wasn’t.
Johnny stood on his front steps. “Destiny kicked me out of my apartment when Crystal showed up. Thought I’d bring your car back.” He cocked one eyebrow, the one with the silver ring in it. “You gonna invite me in?”
“You’re a pushy bastard.” Ryan stepped aside.
“Part of my charm.” He made a beeline for the kitchen. “Do I smell coffee?”
Ryan poured him a cup and sat back down at the kitchen table. “I hope you aren’t going to give me any more advice.”
“Nah—you don’t know what to do with it.” His grin was beyond cocky and Ryan snorted.
Johnny drank his coffee, leaning against the counter.
He waited, sensing that Johnny was dying to tell him something. It still surprised him that a guy who wore black leather as easily as he wore the tattoos that covered every inch of his arms was so into male bonding, but he was rapidly learning that in Norton the appearances he had counted on for most of his life didn’t indicate what was inside.
“I overheard something before I left my apartment that may or may not help you out,” Johnny said.
“Do tell.”
“Crystal couldn’t read you last night or this morning, and it freaked her out. I feel like that’s my fault, for telling you to block her in the first place.”
Ryan shook his head. “Not your fault, man. I should have known better than to think hiding my emotions was any way to tell an empath I loved her. I completely fucked up.”
Johnny shrugged, then shot him a grin. “I’ve got a tattoo for every time I’ve said that.”
Ryan glanced at his multicolored arms. “I wish you’d told me that before I took your goddamn advice.”
Stupid, he’d been stupid to think a woman who made her living sifting through emotions would tolerate anything less than absolute honesty in a relationship. Just when she’d begun to trust him, he’d pulled the rug out from underneath her. How could he put it back?
By staying, he finally decided. He wasn’t going anywhere. He could see the whole puzzle now, and he hoped the last piece fit. Tomorrow morning, he’d go to her, as he had every morning for the past two weeks, and prove he could be counted on to stay, no matter what happened between them. This time he would offer her nothing in the way of a bribe or incentive…except himself.
An idea glimmered.
He could see it now. Big. Bold. A new beginning.
Maybe he would offer her a little something after all. She’d marked him for life—why not make it permanent?
He looked at Johnny. “I assume you know where to get ink done around here?”
After reassuring Destiny that she’d be fine, Crystal went home. No work today. No plans. Nothing to keep her mind off her emotions.
She went upstairs and drew a bath, leaving her heavy dress, shoes and underwear in a pile on the floor. She sat in the tub as it filled around her, waving her toes in the stream of water and turning it ever hotter.
Betrayal. Hurt. Disappointment.
He would leave now for sure. In fact, he was probably already gone. It hurt, so much more than it had hurt the last time because she knew exactly how lonely the years would be without him. Grief choked her. She wasn’t an innocent girl anymore. She wasn’t the well-armored woman she’d been at the rehearsal dinner, either. She’d cracked again, split right down her fault lines.
She sank down in the water until it covered her shoulders, wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. It was time to see what was inside. Barricading her emotions had kept her heart safe, but now her walls were holding her back. She’d rebuilt her life so that she remained in control, calling the shots, giving advice, forging connections between strangers while keeping her own heart hidden. And blind.
Enough.
Slowly, she sank into herself.
The loneliness was overwhelming, even more acute because of the hope. Fear settled around her like black water. Crippling, illuminating, humbling fear.
Crystal kept sinking.
She washed through the corridors of her heart, lapping into the darkest beating corners, forcing herself through tender chambers, naming and claiming everything inside. Then she dipped beneath the surface of the water to wash away her tears. Through the water, she heard the dull ring of her phone. Her pulse jumped. Ryan? She surfaced to peer over the side of the tub where she had placed her cell. It wasn’t him, but Alisa’s home number on the display made her smile. She dried her hand on a towel. “Hello, my darling, how was Hawaii?”
“Who cares—are you okay? Mark talked to Ryan. Do you want me to come over?”
Crystal settled back into the tub. “Nope, I’m all right. Heartbroken, but fine.”
Silence. “I’m coming over.”
Crystal’s chuckle was rueful. “I’ve never said anything like that to you before, have I?” Another tear fell. “I’m sorry, darling, it’s…complicated. But I’ll be fine and I truly don’t want company. I think I’ll go in to work.” Maybe now that Ryan was gone, she could reschedule her clients. “It’s a brave new world for me, but I’ll survive.”
“Are you sure?” Alisa sounded doubtful.
“I’m sure, and you must be exhausted.” She put a smirk in her voice.
Alisa’s wicked laugh brought back good memories. “Mostly due to that CyberVibe you gave us. Mark is already making prototypes that take the concept a few steps further, and you know who his favorite toy tester is…”Alisa yawned and they both laughed.
“Lucky girl. I’m in the tub so I better go, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Crystal promised. “Thanks for calling, sweetie.”
“Yup.”
Crystal tossed the phone onto a towel and climbed out of the water. She’d kept so much inside, for so long. It was going to take some practice to find her balance point again, but she would, in spite of the grief she knew she would feel tomorrow morning at Come Again when nine o’clock came and went without a coffee and flower delivery.
Resolutely, she grabbed a towel and dried herself off, determined not to spend the day feeling sorry for herself. Her clients hadn’t been the only thing she had let slide over the past few weeks. Her house could use a good cleaning and her refrigerator was empty. She had plenty of things to keep her busy, but first she was going to take a much-needed nap. She crawled into bed naked, tucked her pillows and blankets into a tight cocoon and fell deeply asleep.
Chapter Twelve
Crystal opened the back door of Come Again, surprised to hear music blaring from Bonita’s office so late at night. “What on earth are you doing?” Papers were strewn all over the room.
“Clearing the deck.” Bonita dropped into her chair, the only uncluttered surface in the room.
“Looks like that might take you all night,” Crystal observed.
“I can’t sleep anyway.”
Emotion whispered in the air between them, making Crystal wonder whether Bonita wasn’t shielding or if her own senses had become more acute. “Want to talk about it?”
Bonita sighed. “I’ve reached the end of my rope. I always knew I’d go to her eventually. Until now, I’ve been afraid, but watching you and Ryan…I can’t hold out any longer. Would you take care of the shop until I get back?”
Crystal nodded. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
Gratitude was Bonita’s dominant emotion. Beyond it, Crystal sensed relief and a resigned peace that made her ache. She was glad Bonita was going to her lover, and she was also happy to have the responsibility of Come Again to keep her mind off her own heartbreak.
“You want help with this?” Crystal gestured around the room. After her nap, she’d spent the day putting her house in order. She might as well continue her cleaning streak.
Bonita shook her head. “I’m just making it easier for you to find everything.”
Crystal raised an eyebrow.
Her boss grinned. “Okay, maybe I could use a little help—but only if you tell me why you aren’t wearing any makeup.”
“Holy shit.” Crystal glanced into the mirror on the back of the door. “I guess I forgot.” She moved over the desk and began to sort.
Bonita caught her hand and held it. She wasn’t going to accept an evasion.
“Ryan is leaving,” Crystal admitted. “I thought I wouldn’t survive if he left me again…not that he really left me the first time. He lost my number, and when he called the frat house I was flat on my back on a ping-pong table.”
Bonita winced, making a soft sound of sympathy.
Crystal continued, “Yeah, I can understand why he didn’t call back, but I spent all those years feeling abandoned. I locked my heart up tight, safe and sound, and I created this tough-chick image to keep the world at a distance. It worked…until he came back. I couldn’t keep him out. After a while, I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I let him in—and now he’s gone and I feel…everything, all at once.”
Bonita squeezed her hand. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. But I’m also proud of you.”
Crystal tried to smile. “Thanks. Me too…sort of. My heart hurts, but I’m not completely destroyed. I’m functioning, and I’m going to try not to keep so much inside anymore.”
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?” Bonita suggested.
“Exactly.” She’d cracked, but this time she was going to sweep away the wreckage. Whatever hadn’t broken
would
be stronger. Her worst nightmare had happened—she’d been abandoned again. Or had she? Ryan had only planned to leave her because he wanted to stay. “Oh, hell. I told him to go,” she realized. “And then I bolted out the door.”
Bonita wrapped her arms around her. “But did you hit him in the nuts with a steel baseball bat on your way out?”
Crystal rested her head on Bonita’s shoulder and sighed. “Maybe?”
“Then don’t count him out yet.”
Getting in touch with her emotions had an unfortunate side effect—self-awareness. She had told him to go, but she was mad at him for leaving and, pathetic though it might be, she wished he would come back. If he appeared at the door right now, she’d let him in. How long was it going to take for that feeling to go away? How did people live with hope?