Chapter Thirty-Two
Thomas sat in his truck as the Mercedes taillights disappeared around the corner. Even now, he kept hoping the brake lights would suddenly light up, the door would open, and she would come back. Fuck, what a stupid shit. She was a Gold Coast princess and her daddy, the king, had swept in to take her back to their palace.
It had been pitifully easy to forget, lulled by funny, sweet, and so sexy it made his gut clench Tiffany. It all happened so fast. It didn’t make any sense. How could he be sitting there wanting to cry like a baby over a woman he barely knew?
But he did know her, his gut argued. He knew the things about her that mattered. He understood her in a way that her dickhead of an almost fiancé never would. Or her father.
Carter Desjardins had waited only long enough for Tiffany to finish packing, and reluctantly agreed to a last meal before he hustled Tiffany into his car. Luke had arrived with the survey results, and in time to get into a joint sneer-off with Tiffany’s father.
Thomas thumbed through the small picture book on his lap. Luke had found an old copy and given it to him. The thing made his hair stand on end. He pictured Tiffany sitting beside him on the way back from the Grand Canyon, the utter hopelessness on her face. Princess Pearly Perfect choked her like a toxic skin her father kept shoving on her. Inside it, Tiffany shriveled and died. But not with him. She had come out of her princess shell, so fast his head had spun.
She made him feel things he’d never been aware of. For the first time ever, he wanted to be there for someone. Not drift in and out of their life. Watch them grow, watch them live their potential. Know that this incredible woman felt the same way about him. He wanted to share their lives together. None of this made any fucking sense. He scraped his fingers across his scalp.
She needed time and he’d agreed to give it to her. What the fuck had he done that for?
Time to go home, but he made no attempt to get the truck started. Beside him on the passenger seat nestled the reason he’d come here. Luke had finally handed over the survey results. One tiny little thumb drive that had so much power over his life. He’d tracked Tiffany down to find Luke. All he’d wanted was this little piece of hardware and to get on with building his company. There’d been no thought in his head other than sort this out, spend some time in Willow Park and then jump on the next plane back to Africa. Then he’d walked into that studio. She’d flipped her mane of dark hair and turned those eyes on him, and it was like what survey?
The road trip had settled her deep into his being. He didn’t want to be free-as-a-bird, I’m-outta-here Thomas anymore. He had the chance here for something special, someone special. The sort of girl a man showed up for and stayed.
The smell of her perfume lingered in his truck, making him want to bury his face in the scent and pull it deep inside him. His partners were thrilled. He’d texted them the good news as soon as Luke had handed it over. He’d already uploaded the survey results and emailed them to Lusaka. They still had a good chance of getting those mineral rights they were after. Everything sorted. He still wanted to fucking bawl.
He picked up his iPhone and thumbed through the contacts. Where the fuck was Yoda when you needed him? A name caught his eye and he hit Dial. Not Yoda, but the next best thing.
“Thomas?” said a sleepy voice. “How the hell are you? You coming home soon?”
“Yes.” Maybe this was a stupid idea.
“So, what’s up?” his brother asked.
He dragged in a breath. Josh was cool. His older brother, Richard, was all ruthless logic and linear thinking. Josh, on the other hand, got most shit and didn’t judge the shit he didn’t.
“How’s Holly?” He played for time.
“She’s good, man.” Thomas could hear the smile in Josh’s voice. “She still won’t marry me, but I’ll get her in the end.”
Thomas chuckled. He had no doubt Holly would be wearing white and marching down the aisle in the near future. The thought of Holly gave him the kick in the ass he needed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Is this like the time you asked me if oral sex was talking dirty?”
A smile creaked across his face. Josh would never let him live that one down. Josh had teased. Richard had gotten a book out and explained in relentless detail. So much more detail than a twelve-year-old kid ever wanted. Which was why he hadn’t called Richard on this one. “Kind of.” He laughed. “How did you know, Josh? About Holly, I mean. How did you know?”
Josh went silent for a minute. “You’ve met someone?”
“Could you answer the fucking question?”
“I knew when I was a kid, but I was just too stupid to realize it,” Josh said. Well, that was about as helpful as a mustard enema. “But this time, when Holly came back into my life . . .” Josh sighed. “This is going to sound totally lame, but I knew within seconds.”
“Just like that?”
“What more do you want?”
Some of the load lifted off Thomas’s chest. “What if it makes no sense?”
“Are you kidding me?” Josh laughed. “Have you met Holly? And her sisters? How much sense did that make?”
“Right.” Josh had a point. Thomas liked Holly a lot, but he was relieved she wasn’t his bundle of feistiness to deal with. Her sisters plain creeped him out. Except Grace, she was okay, but the twins? Thomas’s nape prickled just thinking about the Partridge twins.
“Who is she?” Josh asked.
“Someone I just met.” A cleaning lady pushed a cart down the corridor, stopping in front of Tiffany’s room to use the skeleton key. “She’s totally wrong for me.”
“Why?”
“She’s all like girly and Legally Blonde and I’m—” He shrugged. “I’m me.”
“Is she hot?”
“Smoking.”
The cleaner got the door open and disappeared inside. In the room cleaning away any traces of Tiffany.
“Does she make you smile?”
“All the time. Except for now, because I watched her drive out of my life with her father.”
A muted voice came from Josh’s end. It made him smile despite the ache in his gut. Holly. Demanding to know the whos, whys, and whats of the call. Josh replied with something smooth that shut her up. Damn, but his brother had a way with women. What a pity it didn’t run in the genes.
“What about your job? The traveling?” Josh came back on the line.
“It’s geography.” As he said it, he got how true that was. “I can work anywhere I want to. Once my company is established, I could even stay in Willow Park and run that end of the business.”
“Would that make you happy?”
“It would if it meant I could have her.” And they could travel. He’d like to take Tiffany and see all the places he’d been through her eyes. God, he’d give his soul to see the pink glow of an African sunrise kiss Tiffany awake.
“You know what I think?” Josh took a breath. “I think you’re talking to the wrong person.”
“What if she says no?” What sort of chickenshit lightweight even asked that question? It was like being thirteen again and asking Tyler Lewis to ask his sister if her friend, Sydney, would say yes if he asked her to Homecoming. Fucking pitiful, and Thomas braced for all-out scorn.
Josh must be mellowing because he said, “Would that be worse than never knowing if she might have said yes?”
Fuck it. He should have known Josh would say something like that. God, he hated it when his brothers were right. “Don’t tell Mom.”
“Of course I’m telling Mom,” Josh said. “She lives for this shit. Then I’m going to tell Lucy, who will tell Richard. So if you wuss out, you’re going to have a whole hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
“I never wuss out. One word, brother: Ironman.”
“Right,” Josh said with a little edge behind it. It still bit both his brothers on the ass that he’d killed their times. “But be sure, man. Be sure this girl is for you.”
“I’m sure.”
“So why are you sitting there instead of going after her?”
The sigh came right up from his boots and made static over the line. “I agreed to give her time.”
“Then give her time,” Josh said. “Come home, kiss the babies, and give your lady time. You know that thing about if you love something, set it free.”
“Really? You’re going to talk to me like a Hallmark card?”
Josh chuckled. “I was going to say, if it comes back to you, great. If it doesn’t, hunt it down and drag it back.”
* * *
Daddy drove her straight to a private airfield. Of course he had a friend who had a plane, and they were soon in the air. Tiffany looked out the window to see the Wasatch Range disappear beneath her. She was going home. She had done what she set out to do and she should be feeling relieved. She wasn’t feeling anything.
“Princess?” Her father watched her. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure, why?”
“You look sad.”
Sad? As good a word as any for the dead feeling in the middle of her chest. Sad was such a tiny word it didn’t even begin to cover the ache. Love. Another of those small words that carried a massive punch. She looked at her father. How could a man with such a discerning brain only see what he wanted to see? “I don’t want to marry Ryan.”
He sat back in his seat abruptly. A slight frown marred his brow as he stared. “You don’t want to marry Ryan?”
“No.”
“Can I ask why not?”
Excellent question. How to make sense of what whirred through her mind? The real answer was one she wasn’t ready to give. “I don’t love him.”
“Okay,” he said on a deep breath. “I thought you did. I thought you and Ryan were perfect together.”
Tiffany gave a small little laugh, but nothing about this felt funny. They were perfect. She and Ryan would make the perfect couple. If she were still Perfect Tiffany. She must be all kinds of nuts with the amount of people she had shuffling for space inside her: Wild Tiffany, Daddy’s Tiffany, Delilah, Princess Pearly Perfect. Which one was she really? Somewhere between Chicago and Canyons she’d started to find out. She’d wanted to marry Ryan because he was the total opposite of Luke. Ryan was sensible, considerate, deliberate, and reliable. On the other hand, you had Luke—all fire, passion, and snarling emotion. Two totally different men offering two entirely different futures, and a different Tiffany for each of them. Then you had Thomas, all of the above and a bit extra. The best of Luke and the best of Ryan, rolled into one gorgeous package. And the only man to see all of Tiffany and come back asking for more.
“Why don’t we get you home,” her father said. “Then you can think about all of this.”
“No,” she said. Her father looked taken aback. She didn’t blame him. She’d surprised the hell out of herself with that one. “I don’t need to think about this.”
“No? You are suddenly sure you don’t want to marry the man who, less than a week ago, you were sure you did want to marry.”
“I’m sure.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He adjusted the perfect crease in his trouser leg. “A week ago, you were upset because Ryan didn’t propose. Now you’re determined that he won’t do. I am not going to say anything to Ryan until you have given it some thought. And neither are you. You will look like a complete airhead.”
Ouch—first blood to her father. She would look like an airhead, and a feckless one. She’d found that word in one of the books Thomas had bought for her. Feckless. It was a good word. “I am an airhead, Dad,” she said. “I drift along and let other people do my thinking for me. I don’t want to be that way anymore.”
“Princess.” He shook his head and looked pained.
He didn’t come right out and say it wasn’t true, though. “It’s true, Daddy. Marrying Ryan would be a mistake.”
“And who is going to tell Ryan this?” He pursed his lips. “Ryan and I are in business together, this will complicate matters.”
“I’ll tell him,” she said. “I will simply tell him the truth and see what happens. He’ll be mad and he has every right to be, but that isn’t a good enough reason to lie to him.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Her father groaned. “Listen to that crap you’re spouting. If you want to demonstrate how mature you are, pick another time. This is not the time to make your play for independence.”
“When, then?” A big part of her wanted to buckle under her father’s displeasure and let him take control. It was so tempting to have him make this all go away. But she had this nagging sense that even if she let him, this wasn’t going away. There would be another time and another, until she stopped it.
“I don’t know when, but I do know the right time will come.” Daddy so nearly echoed her thoughts, she almost laughed. Her father looked angrier than he had in years and she swallowed her nervous giggle.
“Then,” she said, slowly and carefully as it crystallized in her mind, “I will step up that time as well. I need to make decisions that work for me.”
His expression softened a little. “Princess, I see what you’re trying to do, and I applaud it, but trust me on this. Okay?” It would be so easy to open her mouth and say “okay.” Habit had the words on her tongue, but her lips refused to form them.
“No, Daddy.” Her throat felt so tight it was a miracle the words came out.
“This is ridiculous.” His expression grew hard again. “Is that idiot you married behind this? Has he been saying things to you again? Telling you stuff and turning your head?”
“This has nothing to do with Luke.”
“Then it has to be that other one, the big guy. I am an excellent judge of character, and there is something about that one that got up my nose.”
“Thomas.” Just saying his name made the ache throb. “His name is Thomas and he’s a really good man.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. Tiffany wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She could see the wheels grinding in his mind. “Are you involved with him?”
“No.” Throb, went her chest. Throb, throb, throb.
Her father looked doubtful. “Listen to me, Princess, and listen well. Men like Ryan don’t grow on trees. If you let this one go, there isn’t another one like him waiting in the wings. You screw this up with Ryan and you will regret it for the rest of your life.”
“Yes.” Tiffany understood that only too well. She swallowed hard and looked down at her hand. The hand without the ring she’d wanted so badly. Tears blurred her vision and she tried to blink them away before he saw them.
“Men like your Thomas, on the other hand, are a dime a dozen. You can pick them up at any football stadium or bar.”
It wasn’t true. Oh, God, she couldn’t seem to stop the tears. The harder she blinked, the faster they came. There was only one Thomas with that smile that could light up the darkest parts of her. The way he touched her so reverently, the way he never looked at her as if she was an airhead. The way he saw her. The ache sharpened into hard edges. Her breath caught on one of the jagged corners and snagged.
“Princess?” Her father leaned forward in his chair. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.” He put one finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “Don’t worry about a thing. That man is behind you now.” He didn’t mean it to wound, but that hurt so badly her breath stopped altogether. “Ryan will never find out because you and I will forget this and everything that happened.” He squeezed her hands. “Come on, Princess.”
The tears poured down her cheeks. She freed one hand and swiped at them.
Her father tugged her forward and held her. For the first time, Tiffany didn’t want to be there. The smell of him caught in her throat. The feel of his arms about her were like restraints. She sucked in a large breath and tried to get the crying under control. Gently, she wriggled out of her father’s embrace.
“There, now,” he said. “Why don’t you have a little sleep? You can’t have gotten much rest in that awful motel. You have a little sleep and before you know it, we’ll be home.”
“Okay.” She sat back in her chair. She could speak about this all the way back to Chicago and he still wouldn’t hear her. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Princess?”
“I thought I might get my high school diploma.”
“What?” He looked thunderstruck. “You have one.”
“No,” she said. “I mean, like, get a real one. I thought I might try to get into a college.”
Her father’s mouth dropped open and he looked totally floored. Then he cocked his head and the sides of his mouth turned up. “This is a joke, right? You’re joking?”
“No, I—”
“You don’t need to go to college, Princess. You do fine with what you have.”
“That’s not the point. I want to get it.”
His mouth tightened as he looked at her. “For God’s sake, you’ve been gone one week and now you want to turn your whole life inside out.”
“It’s important to me.” She held on to his hard gaze with everything she had. “I’m going to get my high school diploma.”
He threw himself back in his chair. “You don’t need to get your high school diploma,” he said. “You have one already.”
“I mean a proper one.”
“I know what you mean, I am not stupid.” Her father fiddled with his trouser crease. When he looked up again, his eyes were hard as gemstones. “And. You. Have. One.”
Maybe he really didn’t get what she meant, because it sounded like—“What?”
He growled at her impatiently. “I had it all organized. You would have passed anyway because I would have made it so. I didn’t need to in the end. You passed on your own, Tiffany.”