No Regrets (Bomar Boys #1) (10 page)

“He kept his locked too?”

“Yeah. Trust. It’s the foundation of a relationship right?” She snorted and handed the phone back to him, “Just none of mine.”

He felt that like a low blow. He’d broken her trust too. He hated himself for it, but it didn’t make it any less true.

“Jem…”

She shook her head, “Just take the pictures, Cash.”

He flipped the phone around and sighed, “Lift your chin up and look at the door. Yeah, like that.”

He pushed the button and took a series of pictures of her face. His anger grew the longer he lingered over the marks. Black eye. Bruised cheekbone. Busted lip. He took the photos and bit his tongue until it bled before he gave up and finally asked.

“You want to tell me what happened?”

Jemma stiffened, “Not really.”

He sighed, “Okay, I get that… just… the bruises are healing.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, they didn’t happen yesterday.”

Her chin dropped and he knew his gut instinct was right. He’d spent most of last night staring at his ceiling, trying to work through what he knew and fill in the giant, gaping holes where he didn’t. He knew a lot about bruises. He’d suffered through more than his fair share and he’d watched just as many, more probably, heal on Colt’s body. He knew everyone bruised differently. He knew with Jemma’s pale skin that hers would hold color longer. But these were already healing, which meant they weren’t brand new.

“No. They didn’t.”

He fought not to spill the venom in his mouth. He didn’t understand. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Just like he had never been able to understand his mother. The comparison, the line that connected Jemma and that broken, damaged woman, nearly gutted him and the anger disappeared. Worry took its place.

“Jemma?”

She sighed and he thought for a second she was going to keep quiet. He thought she was going to change the subject or tell him it was none of his business. He was surprised but grateful when she started talking, even though she refused to look at him.

“When I got home Friday night, he was drunk. He only ever gets violent when he’s drinking. The rest of the time it’s verbal reminders that I’m just oilfield trash and if I didn’t have him I’d have nothing.” She swallowed hard, “I don’t remember what started the fight. I’m sure he’d tell you it was something I said or did. It always is, my fault. So he slapped me and when I fought back, he knocked me around.”

He struggled to ask, knowing he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted, “So you left, right?”

“No.” She whispered softly, “I got away. I locked myself in the bedroom. He beat on the door for a while but then he must have passed out. That’s how it usually goes.”

He hated this. Hated that she had to use the word usually when it came to something like this. He hated that she had gone through any of this but he couldn’t undo it. He could only help her get past it.

“I thought, come morning, that he’d be full of apologies like he usually was so I checked on him, made sure he was breathing, and went back to bed.” Jemma winced at the memory, “I didn’t lock the door back.”

“So he woke up and came after you?”

“Something like that. He came to bed and tried to cuddle and when I was still angry, when I didn’t accept his apology, that’s when he held me down and… and…”

Cash growled and stepped into her, pulling her into his arms, “You don’t have to tell me what he tried to do, baby. I know. I know and I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

Jemma shuddered and wrapped her arms around him. He held her until he had himself back under control. He didn’t think she was the one on the verge of falling apart right now. He was far closer to the edge than he’d let himself get in five years, because Jemma was his emotional trigger, she always had been.

“It shouldn’t have taken him crossing that line for me to leave.”

He sighed, “I know a thing or two about abuse, Jem. I know it isn’t that easy.”

“Your mom.”

Not a question, because she knew him just as well as he knew her. He pressed his lips to her temple. It was more affection than he’d ever thought she would let him show again so he took the moment and backed off before his body risked trying for more. Now wasn’t the time.

He pulled back and nodded, “I hate the idea of you ending up like her. Hurt. Broken. All because of a man that wasn’t worth your love to start with. That was always my worst fear for you.”

Those expressive hazel eyes darted over his face and he fought the urge to slip back behind his mask of uncaring indifference. He’d never used it with Jemma. He’d never had to. Not until he’d lied to her, not until he’d decided telling her the truth would hurt her worse than letting her go. Before that, he’d let her see everything, every broken piece of him, and some part of him hoped that she still could. That she could see what he wasn’t saying. That he’d done what he did because he hadn’t thought he was worth her love either.

“Oh Cash…” She reached up and cupped his jaw.

He leaned into her touch when she trailed off. He thought she wanted to say something else but when he met her gaze, his breath caught again. There was more than just softness and understanding there this time.

He knew her so he knew what she was going to do before she did it. He could see it all over her face. Every thought, every emotion, was written there in a language he’d been able to speak since they were kids. He knew and he did nothing to stop her when she leaned up and brushed her lips against his.

Every nerve ending in his body hissed to life when Jemma kissed him. Her mouth on his, it had always been that way. Like two pieces of a puzzle sliding into place, magnets drawn together, destined to smack into one another again and again with enough force to break them apart if they weren’t careful.

It was her. Jemma.
His
Jemma. So despite all of the reasons he knew it was a bad idea, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her back.

He slid his mouth over hers, keeping it as light and fleeting as the kiss she’d initiated until she made that tiny little noise in the back of her throat, the one that he had never been able to forget, the little moan that was her need tore at the chains he used to tie everything up inside him and he unraveled.

When he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue over her bottom lip, she opened for him willingly. His hands were on her before he’d ever thought to grab her. He angled her head and she arched up, moving closer instead of away. It was that, the blatant trust she had in him when she should have known better, that stopped him.

It took every strand of his moral fiber to wrench his mouth from hers. He couldn’t bear to break the connection so he held tight to her. He kept her close, tilting his head down until their foreheads met and their lips were a breath apart. They were both breathing hard and when he opened his eyes he groaned aloud at the heat and expectations that shone behind her eyes.

“I can’t, Jem. We can’t. Not like this. Not yet.”

And just like that, with a few simple words, he was forced to watch that spark recede from her eyes. That awful sadness began to permeate her again and she tried to slink back from him. He refused to let her, refused to let her think that he was rejecting her when that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“I want to. I want you, but if I kiss you again I’m going to want you in my bed and if I have you in my bed, I’m going to want to tie you to me so I don’t ever lose you again.” He swallowed hard, “I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

Her eyes searched his face, her brows furrowing slightly, “You don’t get to decide what I’m ready for.”

He smiled at her argument, “Fine.
I’m
not ready for that right now. I need more time.
We
need more time before we make any big decisions.”

“Why?”

“Because the first time you gave yourself to me, I made you regret it and this time I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.” He twirled her hair between his fingers, “If you make this decision when you’re vulnerable, you’ll regret it and after everything you’ve been through, baby, I don’t want you to have any more regrets.”

She pouted, “But I want you.”

Her honesty nearly wrecked him and he had to brush his lips over hers again quickly, “You’ll have me. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year. Whenever you’re ready, I’m yours.”

He bit his tongue. He wasn’t sure either of them was ready to face the rest of what he’d almost said. He’d always been hers. From the first time he’d touched her, he’d belonged to her. He hadn’t understood it then. Hell, he wasn’t sure he understood it now, but they belonged to each other. She was his and he’d hurt her once already. He hadn’t taken care of her. He hadn’t protected her and he couldn’t bear the thought of causing her pain again.

He’d spent five years living with the regret of the pain he’d caused her. He thought, maybe, she’d spent those years regretting him too. So now that they’d found their way back to each other, he wouldn’t let either of them regret what happened next.

Jemma ducked her head against his chest and sighed, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good guy Cash Bomar?”

He snorted, “Definitely not.”

“Then I’m glad I can be the first.”

Instead of arguing with her, he only hugged her and held her close again. He wasn’t sure he could be categorized as a good guy in anyone’s book. He wasn’t as bad as some but he also wasn’t as good as most. He’d tried though, since he lost this woman, or rather since he drove her away. He’d tried to be a better man than people expected him to be. So maybe that counted for something.

“Cash?”

“Hmm?”

“We should probably take some pictures of the bruises on my arms.”

He groaned and pulled away from her, “Yeah, we probably should, but I’m not sure having you take your shirt off in front of me right now is a good idea. You might think I’m a good guy but I’m not a saint.”

She smirked, “You’re tough. You can take it.”

When she started to pull the long-sleeved shirt up, over her head, he sighed and helped her. His pulse pounded and his erection strained his jeans when she wiggled out of it. His eyes automatically dropped to her chest. Her full, beautiful breasts were concealed beneath only that flimsy tank top and a bra and he groaned when he saw her nipples were stiff. She was as turned on as he was. She really did want him.

Jemma licked her lips, “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure you do.” He grumbled.

“Sure I do. You’re thinking that after everything I’ve been through, I shouldn’t be reacting to you like this.” She sighed when he met her eyes, “I know because I’m thinking the same thing.”

“Jem…”

She traced her hand across his chest, and the tattoo he realized she must have seen earlier, the one he would have to explain, “But I never did have any control over the way you make me feel.”

“Jemma.” He growled at that admission and barely resisted touching her, “I’m going to take the pictures and then you’re going to put your shirt back on and then we’re going to call Colt and see where the hell he is with Skylar. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeated with a huff, “Now, let’s talk about something else, something that doesn’t make me want to do things to your sexy little body we both know we shouldn’t.”

“Hmm… How about we talk about my engagement ring?”

And just like that, his erection wilted. Engaged. Jesus, she’d been prepared to marry that asshole. She had promised to marry another man. That definitely had the power to break through his lust but it also sent him careening back towards his bottomless pit of anger. She belonged with him, damnit!

“Good choice.” He grumbled as he snapped the first picture, “What about it?”

Jemma dutifully twisted her arms so that he could take the photos and even as he noticed for the first time that she wasn’t wearing that damn ring anymore he felt his anger swell. He noted the bruises as thumb prints and then the other fingerprints. There was more than one set on each arm which meant she’d struggled, broken free, and that bastard had grabbed her again. He had to work to keep his anger in check and focus on what she was saying.

“I was thinking I might be able to pawn it. I mean, it’s real and at least a couple carats. It’s worth a small fortune and I could really use the money. My only worry is that he might ask for it back.”

“Fuck that. He gave it to you. It’s yours.”

“My thoughts exactly…” She nodded, “So is there somewhere around here I could take it?”

“Big Mike still owns the pawn shop over in Falls Lake. I’m sure he’d give you a reasonable price. Of course, he’s also the biggest gossip this side of the Red River so I wouldn’t venture his way until you get a chance to tell your parents you’re back.”

Falls Lake was the next town over, the last one she would have driven through before her Jeep broke down. It was only slightly bigger than Old Settlers but had all the amenities a town like theirs couldn’t support. Motels, chain stores, fast food joints, Falls Lake had gotten a Wal-Mart when they were in high school and that had been big news. All of the people from the other smaller, surrounding towns went there to do their shopping and so the odds of seeing someone she knew was just as high there as it was right here in Old Settlers.