After the Hurt (5 page)

“Have they called for your car?” he asked Meg.

Pepper ached, wishing his voice sounded as full of caring for her as it did for his sister. He used to talk like that to her, only much more sensually. She hoped he would again someday.

“Yep. I'm so glad you came this morning.” She hugged Tank, and the two of them carried on a conversation as if Pepper wasn't standing awkwardly next to them.

Pepper tried not to feel ill at ease or stare at them, but the affection they showed each other was like a knife slashing through her heart. She'd once been a part of their family unit even if her and Meg hadn't become best friends. But not anymore. She stood silent and sad, watching Tank help Meg into the driver's seat of the heavy-duty four-by-four truck and then slam the door. Meg's gaze flickered ever so briefly through the passenger-side window at Pepper before she waved to Tank and drove off.

He gave a few dollars to the valet, then slowly turned to face Pepper. Her heart stilled and she was breathless. What was he going to say? He looked at the bags scattered about. “So, what's going on?”

“I'm checking out.” She righted the one on the ground, then picked up her duffel, setting it on top.

He nodded. “And you're going where, then?”

She shrugged. “Not sure yet.” She paused and glanced at him, a million thoughts racing around in her brain. She hadn't really given any thought to where she would go and realized in that instant she had nowhere to turn. Except maybe for one place. Dare she ask? Was it her unconscious plan all along?

“There's an extra room…you know, the loft. I'd appreciate staying there until I get my feet back under me.”

He laughed loudly, garnering a few curious looks from people around them. Pepper's cheeks heated. “You've got to be kidding. You can't stay with me—”

“It wouldn't be with you, Tank. It would be my own space, and don't forget, it's partly mine, you know.” She didn't want to throw it out there like that, but it fell out of her mouth before she could stop it. A moment of awkward silence strained between them.

Tank shifted his weight before planting his feet firm and wide, his arms crossed over his chest. The nicely worn leather coat did nothing to hide the power that radiated off him. His icy blue eyes were cold yet hot at the same time. It was all she could do not to squirm under his penetrating stare. She wished she could read his thoughts. The harder she looked for some spark of feeling the more she sank into their swirling depths.

He couldn't say no, could he? If he did, she would try to be more persuasive and tell him “no” wasn't an option. Her belly quaked with anticipation.

He sighed, then paused. “Stay here,” he ordered, then turned and marched down the snowy sidewalk. She watched him go. Dare she let the bubbling of happiness and excitement erupt? He hadn't told her to get lost or to find somewhere else to stay. So that meant she was going with him, right? This was the first step in the right direction.

Goddamn it, Pepper was right. At some point their joint ownership would have to be dealt with. But live with him? Well, not with him but in the same building. Which, to him, was basically the equivalent. How would that work?

Keep your enemies closer.

Was she an enemy? He didn't want to think so but he certainly didn't trust her.

His boots slid on the icy snow and he skidded to the Hummer. Tank guided the big vehicle between the rows of tightly parked cars and down a backstreet. He pulled up in front of the hotel on the opposite side of the road. Pepper stood bouncing on her toes with her arms wrapped around her middle, staring in the direction he had walked off in. He watched her for a minute. Her breath puffed in clouds on the frosty air and her fiery red hair blew around her face. She didn't sweep it away but flipped her head to the side, trying to get it behind her back. It was obvious she had spent a lot of time in the sun. Her tan, even and deep, was unusual for a redhead. An image of her in a skimpy bikini seared his brain and his breath refused to move in and out of his lungs.

Ah, shit, she was a stunner. He could only imagine the stir she'd caused at whatever beaches she'd pranced around on. He'd seen it firsthand when they'd gone away. She had no idea how many men he'd fended off on her behalf before they'd even had a chance to approach her.

Had anyone done any fending off while she'd been gone? he wondered. Tank pressed his lips together, not liking that possibility one little bit.

Her blood would still be thin and not used to this bone-chilling cold, but he made her wait a few seconds longer. For some reason, seeing her suffer didn't bring him any sense of satisfaction. He wheeled around and pulled up to her. When he beeped the horn she jumped and turned around, looking startled and a little pissed off. The annoyed expression on her face vanished and was replaced with a smile as they made eye contact. Her piercing eyes pinned him to his seat. Still the spitfire he loved.

Loved? Where did that come from?
He didn't love her. Far from it.

He saw something else lurking in her eyes too. Something very unfamiliar. Despair, defeat? Did he even know her anymore? A lot of water had passed under their bridge. The only way to find out her story was to get to know her again. Keep her close but far enough away to not be tempted by her. Was that even possible? Tank wondered as the fire still simmering in his loins warmed and warned him.

A gust of wind blew, swirling snow around her, and she shivered. He shook his head, noticing she wore the same clothes as last night. That perplexed him. The woman he'd known would never be caught dead wearing the same outfit twice. Was she really broke? Again he wondered if that was why she'd come back.

She'd told him last night she had no money. What if she'd been robbed or had somehow lost it all? How could she lose so much money? Her inheritance from her mother had been considerable and he would be shocked if she'd squandered it all away, and she wasn't a gambler. An unfamiliar feeling swelled in his chest: compassion.

What the fuck?
He shouldn't be feeling anything but anger, especially after the way she'd careened back into his life, turning it all upside down. Not to mention how she'd left. Yet he felt sorry for her. Tank leaned over and flicked the passenger door open. “Get in.”

Pepper didn't waste time and lifted her skirt high, giving Tank a tantalizing view as she climbed inside. She hauled the door shut, snuggled on the leather seat, and crossed her never-ending legs, hooking a foot around her calf. “Mmm, the seats are heated.”

Maybe it'll burn your ass.
Was she purposely trying to provoke him with a sexy peek of thigh, or the way she smiled at him after seeing him drive up? He'd have to keep his wits thoroughly intact around her. Tank leapt out into the cold winter air, welcoming the icy blast, and pitched her suitcases into the vehicle.

They hadn't said much on the drive to the restaurant. She followed close on his heels through the rear door from the back parking lot, trying not to let her teeth chatter. She hoped she wouldn't catch pneumonia. The last thing she needed was to get sick. Through the other door was the restaurant and a wide stairway that she remembered led to the second floor of the warehouse. Climbing the stairs ahead of Tank, Pepper was acutely aware of his presence behind her. And of just how short her skirt was. The long climb in heels and wandering thoughts distracted her, and she tripped on the top step.

“Careful.” It was the first thing Tank had said since they'd driven away from the hotel.

“I'm fine.” She stood aside on the landing and held open the heavy fire door for him, glad he'd grabbed her bags. He led the way down the hall and stopped at the first door. She knew their old apartment lay behind it. Tank dropped her bags on the floor and she winced. There wasn't anything breakable in them, but still.

“I have to get the key to the loft.”

“Did you finish it?” Pepper was excited and anxious to see just how the renovations looked.

“Yes; it's small, but comfortable.”

She hung in the doorway when Tank stepped into the apartment. She wouldn't go in unless he asked.

“Well, are you going to stand there or come in?”

Pepper smiled and stepped over the threshold into his home. What would have been
their
home had she not run away. All his familiar scents wafted around her. Pepper steadied herself as the heartbreaking wrench of homelessness gripped her. It drove home the fact that she was an orphan, she had no remaining parents or family, except distant relatives in Europe. So she was truly all alone. Tank was all she had left.

She moved around the apartment, trying not to get lost in nostalgia. She glanced at Tank and saw him watching her. She wondered now if he'd tell her not to be so nosy. But he didn't, so she carried on. She loved what he'd done with the space. A gorgeous stone fireplace had been built between the panoramic windows. Its magnificence centered smack in the middle of the hip-to-ceiling windows, so the view beyond was a spectacular backdrop. It only succeeded in reminding her how much they'd fallen in love with this old place. Far better than he had, she'd instantly seen past the dust and grime to the hidden potential of the building.

“I like that you put a fireplace here. It really is dramatic with the windows on either side.” He didn't say anything. A photo caught her eye and she stepped forward to look at it. “Who's this?”

He walked up behind her, his energy palatable. A tingle rippled down her spine and every nerve lit with acute awareness for him. It stole the breath from her lungs. When he reached over her shoulder to pick up the frame, his hand brushed across her. It was all Pepper could do to not sag against his chest.

“Nobody.”

She blinked and focused on the picture he'd taken. Tank was in the photo with a few other people. It looked like some black-tie affair. She caught a glimpse of his funky bow tie. She recognized a few faces but not the smiling petite woman beside him. The woman's fingers curled around Tank's arm in a possessive grip.

“Who's that?” A curl of jealousy slithered in around her heart. Was this his girlfriend? She might have to accept that he'd moved on, but it didn't mean she had to like it.

“That's none of your business.” His voice was flat.

Pepper leaned back slightly until the hard planes of his chest pressed against her shoulder blades. She thought it would be easy to step away, but it wasn't. The thrill of feeling him was too delicious and she couldn't move. It took a great amount of willpower not to turn and face him. Instead, she moved away from his intoxicating heat and walked to the window. Lake Ontario glittered in the distance. It looked cold and uninviting, its wintery chop a far cry from the tranquil turquoise lagoons of the South Pacific she'd grown to love.

The differences in the distillery district were dramatic. They'd been wise to purchase this building and property. It was probably worth a fortune now. When a drawer shut, Pepper turned to see what Tank was doing. He stood beside a monster-size antique armoire she'd bought years ago.

“That was mine.”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

She shook her head and wandered to the kitchen. He was testy and she understood why. Maybe with a little bit of time, he might warm up to her. Maybe only as friends, though. Could she live with that to keep him in her life? Maybe he'd already moved on without her. Based on that photo, it was likely. Wow, that hurt. Of all the things she'd stressed about, him loving someone else hadn't even been on her radar.
Put it out of your mind.

“I'm a little hungry. Do you mind if I get something?” She was pretty sure there wouldn't be any food in the loft until she went shopping. Glancing out the window, she grimaced, not looking forward to poking her nose back into the cold. Plus, eating here would keep them together for a little bit longer.

“Help yourself.” Tank stayed in the other room, checking his cellphone and typing messages. “You'll have to do some shopping. There's no food in the apartment,” he said while he tapped away.

She nodded. “I'll manage, thanks.” She grabbed Brie, artisanal bread, and meat from the fridge and made two sandwiches. The sandwiches looked so appetizing she almost salivated. Pepper reached for a couple of plates, noticing the antique set they'd bought together was not there. “Did you pack away our dishes? If you're not using them, I'd like them back.”

They were too valuable to get tossed. If he didn't want them, then she'd claim them right back. They'd spent a lot of time collecting a variety of pieces that went well together.

She heard a sigh from the other room.

“Tank? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, sure.” He walked into the kitchen.

Well, one thing hadn't changed. Pepper hated it when he said that. It was such a nonanswer and it pissed her off. She handed him a sandwich and he put the plate down on the granite counter. “They were mine too, along with a lot of other stuff, you know.”

He wasn't paying attention and frowned at his phone. She took a bite, continuing to go through the cupboards looking for their plates. “Wow, you really cleaned it all out, didn't you?” She swung around to look at him in question. “This can't be stuff you bought.”

She wondered if that woman in the picture had made these changes. God, this sucked.

His phone pinged and he looked down at it, frowning, and his jaw twitched before he looked back at her. She wondered who had texted him and pissed him off, glad that someone else was adding to his frustration and not just her.

“You probably want a shower and to rest.” He took a key off the wooden plaque with blacksmith nails acting as hooks and held it out to her.

“The loft key?”

“Yes.”

She took the key from him. “When did you finish the renovations?”

“A few months after you left.”

Pepper couldn't figure out why that upset her. So what if he'd renovated without her. It was good he had, right? It meant she had somewhere to stay. Plus, the bonus of it being close to him. She bit into her sandwich again and hardly tasted it. His doing the reno was just another reminder how much she'd missed. Her thoughts drifted to his sister. It had been nice to see Meg today, even though she had been a little distant. “Meg looks good. Is she doing okay?”

“Yes, she's done remarkably well, considering.”

“I'm glad to hear it.” She took another bite; this time it was too delicious to ignore and she savored it.

“I'm not going to eat this. Why don't you wrap it up? It might come in handy a little later. I have to get to a meeting.” He pulled out plastic wrap and she did as he suggested.

If he wanted to get to his meeting, then she should get settled in the apartment. A burst of excitement filled her. She was looking forward to seeing her new “temporary” home. Tank was leaning against the counter, looking expectant.

“Okay, I understand. You have to leave. I'm hurrying.”

He was directly in her path to the front door. She'd have to pass dangerously close to him. He maintained eye contact with her, and as she passed him she couldn't help herself from trailing her fingertips across his chest, never breaking eye contact.

The cerulean depths didn't show any of his feelings. But Pepper didn't miss the imperceptible tightening of his jaw muscles. He'd never hid his feelings from her in the past, and it saddened her that he did so now. Even still, it didn't stop the jolt of desire that ripped up her arm to tear through her heart and settle with simmering heat in her belly. She almost stumbled and caught herself, her fingers finding purchase on his powerful shoulder.

Tank's arm snaked out. He caught her around the waist. Other than that swift movement, he was a stone statue. His quick intake of breath told her he was just as moved by their nearness as she. For a few breathless moments they stared into each other's eyes, neither letting go of the other. She glanced quickly at his mouth, then back to his eyes. She was at a loss for words.

“Don't you worry. No one will bother you.” His voice was soft and low, melting around her like hot honey.

“W-what?” Pepper furrowed her brow, not understanding what he was referring to.

“This is the only key, other than the spare. So try not to lose it, eh?”

“Oh, yes.” She blinked, registering what he was talking about after being distracted by the strength of his arm around her.

Did his head dip closer to her or was she imagining it? His gaze settled on her lips and she moistened them. Her girlie parts responded to him with frightening speed, and Pepper softened in his arms. Before she could blink twice, Tank pulled her flush against him. Face-to-face, hip to hip, breast to chest. Her heart tripped over itself. All she had to do was lean in and their lips would touch. Pepper slid her palms up the hard planes of his chest muscles and splayed her fingers, pressing slightly so she could feel him. It had been so damn long since she had.

“Don't get used to the idea of living here too long, Pepper,” he whispered. She strained to hear him, his voice low and tantalizing. “Your claims will be dealt with, but you'll never live in the same place with me. Ever.”

“Ever?” She gazed into his hooded eyes, the blue of them smoky and dark. Her mouth went dry.

“You heard me.”

She heard, but his body spoke differently. His cock pressed against her belly, and oh how she wanted to rip his pants open and push him to the floor. But he held her tight and she was too chicken to make the first move. When he didn't let her go, she wondered if he was contemplating the same. He held her firm, tight to him. They were fused together so she felt every beat of his heart.

“Never say never.” She felt like she was babbling and had lost control of her faculties. His nearness upset her balance, and she clung to him, trying to right herself.

He loomed above her. Pepper's insides liquefied into hot, aching desire. The way he towered over her, so powerful, big, and male, had her trembling and feeling utterly feminine. A feeling she'd lost without him in her life.
Oh, God. Will he kiss me?

But he didn't. She blinked, slightly confused when she found herself standing outside the radius of his heat. Tank had set her aside just as fast as he'd snapped her against his chest. Her immediate sense of loss was acute. Pepper struggled for a moment, gathering her wits, and was surprised by the temper that flared inside her. How could he bring out the worst in her so quickly, right on the heels of desire? She'd had time to reflect on this while she'd been away, and it did make her wonder. She'd been so volatile after her mom died, and it seemed to have spilled over into so many aspects of her life back then. Just how many people had she alienated when they'd only been trying to help?

Pepper stepped back and brushed her hair from her eyes but didn't break eye contact with him. He had to be first. She wasn't going to let him think she would be putty in his hands.
But I want to be.
Her heart was shredding and she felt sick. She needed to sort out her confusing emotions, all over again, and get her balance back. Oh shit, she just didn't know what to think right now.

“Will you help with my bags?” Her voice was small, and she thought she sounded defeated. Exhaustion overwhelmed her. When she was upset sleep was her healing balm. She needed sleep, now.

“Please?” He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest.

He wanted her to say “please”? That just about did it and she glowered at him. Damn him for looking so impossibly attractive! He leaned a shoulder against the wall. A casual smile curved his lips, and that darned dimple in his cheek winked at her. She'd manhandled her bags around the world without any help; she could schlep them a few more feet.

“That's okay. Thanks anyway.” She dragged the suitcase to prop open the heavy door and organized the sandwich plate, the sandwich she'd wrapped up, and her duffel, but it all went tumbling around her. Sandwich fixings scattered over the wide-board wooden floor. “Shit.”

“You're the most stubborn woman,” Tank stated flatly and picked up a bag.

“No. Leave it alone. I don't need your help.” Pepper pushed him aside and he tripped over the duffel bag on the floor behind him. Pepper's eyes nearly popped out of her head when he went flailing. She hadn't meant to push him so hard or expected him to trip over the duffel bag.

He caught himself quickly. “Jesus, woman!”

Pepper remained silent and turned her back to Tank. She felt stupid for pushing him. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she busied herself with kicking her suitcase into the hall. “I can handle it.”

“Could've fooled me.”