Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) (24 page)

“I brought him here hoping
you would realize you were about to make another mistake!” she shouted back. “I can’t believe Ethan is the person you decided to give a second chance.”

“Don’t start with me.”

“Jesus, Mar. You are so thick sometimes. Graeme is head over heels in love with you. Don’t you see? When are you going to wake up and realize he’s the one? He’s the man you’ve been dreaming of your entire life.”

“If he’s so in love with me, then why didn’t he call me after that day at the gallery?” Marion demanded.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Why don’t
you
ask him?” To press her point, Marion shoved her index finger in her friend’s face. “And why are you so suddenly on his side? After that day, you practically crucified him.”

“People make mistakes,” Delilah said. “It was a poor judgment.
And he has his reasons for doing what he did. He told me about it on the drive over.”

“Whatever.”
She spun back toward the sink, gripping the edge of the counter. Anger had replaced her hurt and all she wanted to do was lash out. “You’re sleeping with him.”

“What?”

“That’s why you brought him here. So you could flaunt him in front of me. You win!” She held up her hands in surrender, knowing even as the words spilled from her mouth she was irrational. Still, she couldn’t stop herself.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You always were better at getting the men to fall for you than I was.”

“Marion, that is a bunch of
bull and you know it.”

“Uh huh.” Her heart pounded
furiously now. It was rare Delilah used her full first name in any conversation and she knew she must have really made her angry. At this point, though, there was no going back. “You can have him. Besides, he’s great in the sack.”

Delilah clutched her bag under an arm, giving her a heated look.
The color was high in her cheeks. She didn’t say a word as she breezed by her and left the bathroom, the door slamming closed behind her.

 

* * * * *

 

Graeme watched the two ladies walk briskly from the table and rose. Ethan rose too.

“Give it up, man,” Ethan said. “She’s mine.”
He gave Graeme a self-satisfied grin.

“After that display, I really don’t think so.”
His gazed flickered to Ethan, that same malcontent sweeping over him as before when he punched him in the donut shop.

“It’s really no use.” It sounded like a warning.

“What’s your agenda anyway? You don’t love her. I know you don’t.”

Ethan
shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe I do.”

He
wasn’t sure if he meant maybe he loved her…or maybe he had an agenda. He suspected the latter.


Stay away from her,” Ethan said.

“Or what?
She’s a grown woman. She can decide who she wants and I don’t think it’s you,” he fired back.

Ethan snarled. “Maybe not. But you’re not much better and I have a lot
more to offer her.”

“Such as?”

“Luxury beyond her wildest imagination. I can give her anything and everything she wants.”

“Those are just things. They don’t matter to
her.”

“They won’t
matter if she doesn’t marry me.”

The light bulb suddenly turned on. “This isn’t about Marion, is it?”

“Of course it isn’t. It’s about me getting respect from my father and that corner office when he retires. It’s about me getting my mother off my back so she can go to the country club again. I can’t get any of that without Marion.”

“You son of a bitch.” Graeme
balled his fists.

Ethan leaned toward him, dropping his voice. “And if you tell her, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Don’t threaten me.” He’d kicked his ass once, he could do it again. Ethan still had the bruises to prove it. “And, oh, I plan to tell her. I’m sure it won’t be too hard for her to believe since she already has a bad taste in her mouth from you.”

Graeme didn’t wait for a reply and headed after the ladies.
The delay was long enough to allow both Delilah and Marion to disappear inside the bathroom. The restrooms were in an alcove off the bar area. An open doorway and a short hall led to them. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. As he waited, he saw Ethan bolt from the restaurant.

Chicken shit
.

And he had the balls to call him that in the donut shop that morning. It was like him to tuck tail and run
.

Inside the ladies room, he could hear them shouting at each other. That wasn’t good. Delilah was supposed to
convince Marion to let him talk to her. Instead, they were fighting? A very bad sign.

A few minutes later, Delilah
burst out of the bathroom. He stood straight. Her face was a dark shade of red. She stopped short when she saw him.

“Good luck with that,” she said
.

He snagged her by the arm. “Wait. What happened?”

“Why don’t you ask your girlfriend? Because I’m done talking to her.” Delilah jerked her arm free and walked away.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” she said over her shoulder.

“How?” Graeme started after her. She rode with him and he couldn’t allow her to call a cab. It’d cost
at least sixty dollars to get home and he couldn’t have that on his conscious.

“I have a friend here, Graeme, and
not
the one in the bathroom. I can hitch a ride.”

“Delilah, wait a second.” He hurried after her, reaching for her and spinning her around to face him. “What did Marion say? What happened?”

Her lips parted to answer when the bathroom door opened and closed behind them. He glanced over his shoulder, saw Marion standing there with a look of distaste, hurt and confusion on her face. Her gaze slid to Delilah and it was one of complete and utter malice. He dropped his hands immediately and Delilah spun on her heel and took off.

Whoa. That’s really not a good sign.

Delilah and Marion had been friends for as long as he knew them. He couldn’t imagine what transpired in the ladies room that would have caused such heated looks between them.

Marion shook her head and started past him but he put his hand on the
door jamb, blocking her passage. She looked up at him and he could see the shimmer of tears in her deep brown eyes.

“Marion—”

“Don’t even bother, Graeme.”

“About tonight—”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay? Let me by.”

“No,” he said, sounding more stern than he meant. “I want to explain—”

“There’s nothing to explain!” she nearly shouted.

Something inside him snapped. He grasped her by the shoulders and pushed her against the wall, pinning her with his weight. She pushed weakly at his shoulders, trying to shove him off.

“Let me finish one mother fucking sentence, all right?”

She blinked slowly,
her eyes wide and round. “All right.” It shuddered out of her on a breath.

“I asked her to bring me here tonight. I wanted to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. Her chin quivered. She was about to lose all composure. And it was all his fault.

“I couldn’t talk to you that day at the gallery. I have my reasons.”
He paused and she waited. She never took her gaze off his.

“Well, what are they?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.”

“But you can tell Delilah?” she snapped. She shoved at him again, but he wouldn’t budge. “Let me go, Graeme. If you want her, far be it from me to stand in your way.”

“What?” His brows knit.

Is that what she thought? She thought he really wanted Delilah instead of
her? Was she insane? Didn’t she realize she was the only woman he had dreamed about for years? She was the only woman he had wanted or
loved
unconditionally? Didn’t she know that every woman he’d ever dated would never measure up to her?

Sure, Delilah was beautiful and sassy. She could dress for success or seduction.

But Marion was the love of his life.

Marion clutched his shirt front in her fist and gave a half-hea
rted shove. Tears were in her eyes now.

“Please,
Graeme. Let me go.”

He couldn’t. If she walked out that door tonight, it would seal the end of their romance forever. And he couldn’t let her go.
His hand brushed over her cheek, then swept across her neck and tangled in her soft brown sugar hair. He put enough pressure on the nape of her neck to make her look up at him and then he kissed her.

She was reluctant at first, not moving, not responding. But the more he demanded from her mouth, the more she yielded. The more she forgot they were standing in front of a restroom in a high dollar restaurant.

Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer. He could smell her perfume and feel her luscious curves molding against him. Yes, she was made for him. Just as he always knew she was.

Their tongues tangled, each trying to control the other. She kissed him back with a fierceness he never thought possible. He pushed her harder against the wall, his hand flattening against her abdomen
.

He popped the button on her jeans and slipped his hand inside, like he had that night on her front porch. She was pliant in his arms and so willing. She rocked her hips against his hand as he stroked her hot wetness. Proof she still wanted him.

A sexy moan bubbled in her throat, rumbling against him. His cock was painfully hard with the want for her. He removed his hand and pushed his entire body weight against her, grinding his hard cock into her hips.

Marion’s hand clutched the nape of his hair, their mouths never ceasing. Her other hand pushed against his crotch,
palming his hardened length. He groaned with pleasure, annoyed with the barrier of clothing between them.

And then, as if she realized where she was and what she was doing—or perhaps she found his weak spot—she shoved him roughly. Before he could catch her, she had slipped out of his arms and walked swiftly away.

 

Chapter Seventee
n

 

Marion knew the moment the foul words were out of her mouth, they were a mistake. But she had let anger and hurt overcome her. She stood a long moment in the bathroom after Delilah left before finally taking a deep breath and calming her ragged nerves. She smoothed her sweaty palms down her jeans and opened the door.

She wasn’t prepared for the sight of Graeme holding Delilah, looking informal and intimate. Again, her logical brain told her there was nothing going on, but her emotional brain told her it was inexcusable. He dropped his hands immediately, looking guilty as if he had been doing something he shouldn’t. Which he wasn’t
.

Delilah took off, her heels clicking a final good-bye as she left them behind
.

Marion shook her head and started past Graeme
. He blocked her exit, his big body taking up all the space and sucking up all the air. Oh, sure, she could have ducked and gotten away but a little piece of her wanted to see what he would say.

“Marion—”

“Don’t even bother, Graeme.” But the bigger piece of her—the bitter piece—won over.

“About tonight—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she interrupted again. Her heart beat fiercely in her chest, her hands shook. “Let me by.”

“No. I want to explain—”

“There’s nothing to explain!”

He shoved her toward the wall, pressing against her, dangerously close. His pale blue eyes pierced her to the core, anger flashing in them.

“Let me finish one mother fucking sentence, all right?”

She knew her eyes widened with surprise and she blinked once, slowly, never taking her gaze off his. She had never seen him look so incensed and it made her want to recoil.

“All right,” she said at last, her voice a faint squeak. She’d let him explain, if only to hear what excuse he had up his sleeve.

“I asked her to bring me here tonight. I wanted to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Nope, nothing indeed. She didn’t want to hear any of his reasons why he passed by her that day in the gallery. Or why he couldn’t call her to apologize. Or why he needed to talk to her in person. She suspected it had something to do with that l-word Delilah mentioned, but she was too angry and too upset to listen or accept it.

“I couldn’t talk to you that day at the gallery. I have my reasons.”

And still he tried to tell her he had
reasons
. She gulped hard, refusing to cry. She wouldn’t let herself show that kind of emotion in front of him. He needed to see how angry she was, not that she was a weak simpering fool who happened to be in love with him too.

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