Can't Stand the Heat (27 page)

Cris tightened his protective hold around her shoulders. He gazed down at her. “I know you're not. I wouldn't doubt you, Lauren.”

“Then you're a bigger fool than I thought if you take her word over mine! You know what she is! Half the men in town have—”

“Maybe you should just shut the hell up while you're still ahead!” Cris shouted. “Part of me wants to call the police and tell them what you did to her, but the rest of me just wants to beat the shit out of you right here and now!”

Lauren's pulse raced with newfound alarm. She quickly shook her head as the orchestra started another overture, drowning them out again. “No. No, don't do that, Cris.”

James grinned. “You'd be smart to listen to her. I've got friends in high places around here. No one's going to arrest me, certainly not based on the word of a town whore,” he said, casually pointing to Lauren. “You're new to Chesterton and don't know any better. I understand. But I'd hate to see you run out of town so soon. So . . .” he said as he took several steps forward. He buttoned his dinner jacket and pointed toward the stairwell. “Why don't you just run back upstairs and let me handle my—”

James didn't get the chance to finish before Cris punched him, knocking the older man back several feet. It had happened so fast that Lauren barely noticed when Cris removed his arms from around her, stepped forward, and took the swing.

“I've got friends in high places, too, you piece of shit,” Cris said, glaring down at James, who was still on the ground, wiping the corner of his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. “And I've got just as much cash to throw around. You may scare most of the people in this goddamned town with your big money and big talk, but I'm not afraid of you! You hear me?”

James started to rise to his feet, but before he did, Lauren also had something to say.

“And if you
do
come after him or me or my family again,” she warned quietly, taking a step forward, “I won't keep silent this time. I'm going to the police. I'm going to file charges. Even if not a single person in Chesterton believes me, I'm still going to do it.” She leaned over her ex, no longer intimidated by his menacing gaze. “And you'll have to explain to all your clients—
especially
the ones who don't live around here—why you were charged with assault and attempted rape. Even if I don't get you thrown in jail, I'll make sure I embarrass the hell out of you. I'll make sure people always wonder if you did it. I'll make sure your name and mine are linked together forever in their minds.”

She could see the rage again in his eyes and the hate, but a dawning of awareness was also there. He wanted to shout at her. He wanted to punch her. But for once, he held himself back. Finally, he realized that he had something to lose and that he was equally matched. They had gotten through to him.

James rose to his feet, brushing the dirt and mossy grime off the seat of his pants. He adjusted his dinner jacket and cleared his throat. The orchestra music had finally died down and Lauren could hear Cynthia's voice over the loudspeaker followed by polite applause.

“So that's how it's going to be?” James asked, the anger thinly veiled in his voice. “After all we had, Lauren? After all I've done for—”

“Again,” Cris murmured, “quit while you're ahead.” He waved toward the stairs. “Just get the hell out of here.”

James flinched. He wasn't used to being talked to that way. But he kept silent and slowly trudged to the garden's stairs, eyeing them as he did.

Lauren watched as he climbed each step, until he reached the top and she saw his back disappear past the arch leading into the front hall.

He'd have a hard time explaining the busted lip and bloody hand to the other partygoers, but it could be a lot worse. It'd be harder to explain being escorted out in handcuffs.

“Are you all right?” Cris asked from over her shoulder, snatching her from her thoughts.

Lauren turned, gave a pained smile, and slowly nodded. “I'm fine. A little roughed up.” She reached for her slightly bruised neck. “But I've . . . I've had a lot worse.”

“You shouldn't have used calling the cops on him as a bargaining chip,” Cris said. “That bastard deserves to go to jail for what he did to you tonight and what he did to you before that,
regardless
if he called the cops on me or made my life a living hell.”

“If it keeps a choke collar on him, that's all that matters to me,” she said softly, lowering her eyes. “I didn't want him to go after you, too.” She paused. “I'm . . . I'm sorry I dragged you into this, Cris. It's not what I wanted.”

“You didn't drag me into this. I came after you because I
wanted
to, and thank God I did or things could have gotten a lot worse for you down here.” He tilted his head and looked at her searchingly. “I've been chasing you around all night, Lauren. Didn't you realize that?”

“Yes, but . . . I don't know why. I thought you didn't want anything to do with me.”

“Why would you think that? Because you kicked me out of your apartment?”

“Well, yeah, and . . .” She let her gaze drift to the garden behind him, unable to meet his eyes. “I came to your house and your girlfriend said—”

“My girlfriend?
Alex told you she was my girlfriend?”

Lauren hesitated, then nodded.

Cris gave a lofty roll of the eyes. “Yeah, well, that lying, scheming bitch hasn't been my girlfriend in months. The last time we were a couple was back in Texas. I just dumbly allowed her to stay at my house for a few days while she was in town. That's all. I kicked her out a couple of days ago.”

“Kicked her out?”

“Yeah—her and her thirteen suitcases.”

Lauren fought back a smile. “So you two didn't get back together? You're not a couple?”

“No, we're not a couple.”

Lauren let those words settle into her. She had resolved that she would have to move on because Cris had moved on to someone else. But that obviously hadn't been the case. The possibilities for them were endless again.

“Cris, I—”

He held up a finger, silencing her. “Wait. I see something.”

Lauren watched as Cris walked past her into the shadows of the terrace where she had been fighting for her life minutes earlier. He emerged seconds later, holding her diamond pendant necklace in his hand.

Lauren's fingers instantly leaped to her throat again. She had been so shaken up that she hadn't realized her necklace was gone.

He smiled as he gave it a quick wipe on the front of his jacket. “I believe this is yours.”

She reached for the necklace, but he shook his head and motioned for her to turn around. As he placed the jewelry around her neck, she breathed in one unsteady breath, feeling his warm fingers linger on her back and then her shoulder blades. When she turned back around, he raised a hand to her cheek, then let it fall to his side.

“I don't know about you, but I'm ready to call it a night.”

She chuckled. “I was ready to leave an hour ago.”

“If you feel too shaky to drive, I can take you to your place. It wouldn't be a problem.”

She gazed into his eyes. “I'd much rather go home with you.”

And she meant it. She wanted to go back to his house and share his bed. She wanted to share the next few hours until morning with him and many hours after that until they all added up to a lifetime.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the stairs. They left the party together and that night made love until the wee hours of morning before falling asleep in each other's arms.

“H
ow're the strawberries?” Cris asked as he leaned back against the plaid wool blanket on one elbow. He peered at Lauren over the wicker picnic basket nestled between them.

He had asked her the question while she was midbite. Lauren giggled as juice from the luscious strawberry trickled from the side of her mouth to her chin. She wiped at the drops with the back of her hand. “Delicious,” she mumbled between chews.

“Damn, you've got it all over your mouth. Let me take care of that for you.” He then leaned toward her and licked the juice off the corner of her lip. They tumbled back onto the blanket and she laughed and shrieked as he continued to lick and nibble at her before finally rewarding her with a soul-stirring kiss.

It was a cool fall October afternoon—so cool, in fact, that Lauren had thrown another wool blanket over her jeans-clad legs to ward off the chill. From this vantage point—a hilltop just on the outskirts of Chesterton—they could see the fall foliage, the lush hues of red, orange, yellow, and green.

Of course, this view didn't compare to the one they had enjoyed earlier. They had finally taken the long-delayed hot-air balloon ride and Lauren had gazed in awe at the blue, cloudless skyline and the countryside. She and Cris stood silently with their arms wrapped around each other as they floated over Chesterton, appreciating the scenery around them. She was grateful for the moment, for being with him. She had lots of things to be grateful for now.

Cris finally tore his mouth away from hers. He slowly pushed himself up and rose to his feet. He stretched and turned to her, smiling.

“Feel like going for a walk?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.

She wiped her sticky fingers on one of the gingham napkins and nodded. “Sure.” She took his hand.

Cris dragged her to her feet and she groaned at the slight soreness in her legs from sitting in the same position for so long. They packed what was left of their meal into the picnic basket and held hands again. She let him lead the way as they trudged to another hill, the fall leaves crunching beneath their feet as they went.

 

Thanks to Cris and her own courage, so far James had stayed true to his promise to leave her and her family alone. For weeks, she had waited for him to slither his way back into her life like the snake that he was, or to start harassing her mother and her sisters again, but the threat of telling the whole town, his business partners, and the press about what he had done to her seemed to keep him at bay. She knew it wasn't her threat alone that had done it, though. James was a man who not only wielded power, but respected others who wielded it. He was intimidated enough by Cris now that he didn't want to spar with him. That was a smart decision on his part. One of the few he had made in the past year.

Lauren's family was still as crazy as ever. Her industrious mother had landed a date with the rich widower two towns over. Yolanda was sure she could persuade him to marry her within the next six months and all her money troubles would be solved. Lauren wasn't as convinced, but she didn't tell her mother that.

Cynthia, Dawn, and Stephanie were still in hot pursuit of new sugar daddies. All of them had asked if maybe Cris had some NFL friends that Lauren could introduce them to. She had to disappoint them by telling them no.

“I'm sorry. But I wouldn't subject my worst enemy to your sisters, Lauren,” Cris had said with a lofty roll of his eyes when she told him about her sisters' inquiries. “And I damn sure wouldn't introduce them to any of my friends!”

Though Cynthia still was a gold digger through and through, mercifully she had kept her promise to suspend Clarissa's gold-digging “training” for a while. So Lauren's niece had managed to start her freshmen year at Temple University without the added pressure of having to move to campus, find all her classes, and cram for her exams
while
learning the many ways to ensnare a man. Lauren hoped Clarissa was enjoying her freedom . . . for however long it lasted.

Phillip was also out of the hospital and done with his recovery. He had been taking it easy for weeks, delegating most of the responsibility for the restaurant's kitchen to Lauren in his absence. He had broken the news to her a few days ago that he would stay on as owner of Le Bayou Bleu, but he would no longer be the head chef of the restaurant.

“The doc said I gotta take it easy,
chérie
,” he had grumbled. “He said if I don't want my ticker to wear out on me again, I'm gonna have to put up my knives and spatula. Get off my feet.”

Lauren had been sad to hear that she would no longer be elbow to elbow with her dear friend and mentor in the kitchen again. Knowing the restaurant's reputation, Phillip would probably be replaced with some snooty chef from a five-star restaurant in New York City, someone who would never get their hands dirty working the line or lower himself by having drinks with the dishwashers and busboys.

“I hope whoever takes over can fill your shoes, Phillip,” she had mumbled, teary-eyed. “There's no chef who could come close to you.”

“Humph, and don't I know it! Phillip Rochon is one of a kind,
chérie
, but . . .” He had smiled. “I guess you'll have to do. I certainly taught you enough. You can handle it.”

Lauren had blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I want you to take over as head chef of my restaurant. I told you. I don't trust my baby to anyone! If I leave her to you, I leave it in good hands.”

Lauren had been so taken aback by his words, she had gazed at him dumbfounded for several seconds. Finally, she had broken out of her stupor long enough to leap up and give him a bear hug.

“Watch out now! You're gonna kill me before I have a chance to sign the damn paperwork!”

 

Lauren and Cris continued to climb the next hill with him lugging the picnic basket. Her tennis shoes sank into the damp grass and the hem of her jeans was soaking wet. Perspiration was on her brow. Her breathing became labored. He was really making her work for this view!

She was only seconds away from telling him that she couldn't walk any farther before Cris set down the basket and turned to her.

“Now look at that,” he said, pointing off into the distance.

She followed his finger and smiled.

She could see Chesterton more easily from here. She gazed at the cars slowly driving along Main Street, the various steeples of United Methodist, St. Ignatius, and the Baptist church at the end of Broadleaf, and the savings and loan's clock tower. From here, the town was beautiful, even if she knew up close it could be very different sometimes. But for better or for worse, it was her home.

“I want to give you something.” Cris suddenly reached into his jacket.

Lauren was staring off into the distance, distracted by the tranquil view, smiling to herself. When she turned and saw Cris tugging a folded white envelope from his jacket's inner pocket, she frowned.

“I want you to take this.” He handed it to her. “No arguments. In fact, don't say anything. Just accept it.”

“Cris, what is this?”

But even before he answered and tried to press the envelope into the palm of her hand, she knew what it was.

“It's a check. About ninety-five thousand or so. I put a little extra in to cover any fees or penalties you might have to pay. But that should cover all your outstanding bills, I think.”

Lauren gazed down at the envelope, feeling her stomach clench into knots. It had been such a nice moment. Now she was being brought back to reality. “Cris, I can't ta—”

“Yes,
you can. After all we've been through, yes, you can. I need you to trust me and let me help you.”

But he had already come to her rescue. He had already helped her—in more ways than one. She didn't want his money, too.

“You'll pay me back. I know you will.”

She tiredly closed her eyes. “Cris, baby, you and I both know damn well I won't be able to pay back this money. It's too much! That's more than I make in a—”

“There's more than one way to pay someone back, Lauren. You just have to hear all the terms.”

She suddenly opened her eyes, taken aback. “What . . . what terms?”

Cris gave a knowing smile and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her toward him.

Lauren eyed him uneasily. “What terms, Cris?”

“First, I want you to take the money to pay off your debts,” he said, leaning down, teasing her lips. “Then I want you to move out of your apartment. Next, I want you to move in with me. I want you to stay with me. I want you to be
mine,
Lauren.”

If any other woman had heard those words, she'd be ecstatic, but instantly Lauren's heart sank. So those were his terms? To get the money, she would have to move in with him, she would have to be his? This arrangement sounded very familiar. In fact, she remembered having a similar agreement with James more than two years ago.

“So you escaped one sugar daddy only to run into the arms of another,” a voice in her head mocked.

Why did she keep coming back to this? What was it about her that made men think they had to take
care
of her?

Why keep fighting it,
she thought sadly, silently accepting her fate. She wanted to be with Cris. She loved him and needed him, but not in the way he thought. Her mother had been right at least about one thing: Loving Cris this strongly gave him the ultimate power over her. He wielded so much power, in fact, that now she was willing to give up a goal that she had focused on for almost a year: obtaining her independence and self-resolve. It hurt that being with him meant she would have to go back to her old ways, but . . .

So be it.
She was a Gibbons girl, after all. She had denied it for quite a while, but being a kept woman who pleased her man was practically in her DNA.

Lauren stiffly nodded. “Fine, Cris. If those are your terms, I accept them. I'll . . . I'll be yours.”

He cocked an eyebrow. Now
he
was the one frowning. “Well, don't sound so excited.”

“I'm sorry!” She shoved back from him. “But I'm not going to pretend everything's gravy about this! I understand how this goes. Believe me. I've been through this before. Whatever you want, I'll do it!” She suddenly glared up at him, tears welling in her eyes. “But I'm not doing it for the money! OK? I said it and I meant it: I don't want your goddamned money! I'm doing it because I want to be with
you.
I'll be yours if that's what you want.”

“No, you don't understand, Lauren. You're talking about this like I'm making a damn business proposition, like I'm trying to buy you! I don't want you to just be mine! Hell, I want to be yours, too!”

She gazed up at him, confused.

“I'm asking you to marry me, baby.” He reached into another jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He then pulled back the lid.

Lauren blinked in surprise, gazing at the solitary diamond ring he held in front of her.

“You're . . . you're asking me to marry you?”

“Well . . . yeah.”

This time when she blinked back tears, it wasn't out of anger. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cris.” She wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. “I just thought—”

“Yeah . . .” He removed the ring from the box. “I know what you thought. But that wasn't what I was offering. I'll try not to be insulted.”

He placed the ring on her finger and she gazed down at it. She slowly shook her head in amazement. Suddenly, her happy tears morphed into laughter.

Cris gazed at her in bemusement. “OK, this was not the reaction I expected. Why are you laughing?”

Lauren held her stomach as she laughed even harder. “Oh, Cynthia is definitely going to lose her shit over this one! She swore this was my goal all along . . . to try to snag you before any of them could. She's going to be so pissed!”

Cris smiled before tugging her back toward him. He then wrapped his arms around her again. He locked his hands around her waist so she couldn't get away from him even if she'd tried.

“Well, I'm less concerned with what Cynthia has to say about this than what
you
have to say. I just asked you to marry me and I haven't heard you say ‘yes.' ”

Lauren grinned as she stood on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes. Yes!”

They kissed and Lauren was suddenly taken back to the first moment they'd touched lips. She had been so nervous back then, trying so hard to keep from falling for him.

Lauren pulled back her head and gave a wry grin. “I hope you realize what you're getting into. When you marry a Gibbons girl, you get a lot of baggage and a lot of drama.” Her expression suddenly became somber. “I won't let my family come between us, Cris, but I won't let them go, either. They're all crazy. They drive
me
crazy! But I love my mother. I love my sisters and I won't—”

“Lauren, I'm not asking you to give up your family. I know you love them. I just want to make sure that ‘this' ”—he pointed to himself and then to her—“always comes first.”

She nodded emphatically. “Always, Cris.” And she meant it.

“So . . . how much drama are we talking about exactly?”

At that, Lauren laughed. She laughed so hard her stomach hurt.