The One For Me (Danver #8) (11 page)

Monday morning seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. Both she and Mark had fallen asleep after their last round of acrobatic sex, and she’d been surprised to open her eyes and see the morning light streaming through his bedroom windows. He’d insisted they save time and water by bathing together, where she’d experienced another first—against-the-wall shower sex.

When she walked into the kitchen in search of Mark after getting dressed, she found him there, sipping a cup of coffee with Denny. She’d wanted to back down the hallway and hide from the knowing smile on the other man’s face, but Mark had spotted her. “Coffee, Angel?” he asked, already pouring her a cup.

“Thanks,” she replied softly as she used the cream and sugar sitting nearby. In the light of day, she felt awkward and unsure of how to act around Mark after the previous night. When he pulled her against his chest and dropped a kiss on her temple, it shocked her. From the look on Denny’s face, he felt the same way. It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing this side of his boss. As she was enjoying the closeness between them, a phone chimed. Both Denny and Mark checked theirs
before looking at her. She shrugged and pulled her iPhone from her purse to find a text from her mother.

Mandatory family dinner. Seven tonight, don’t be late.

“Well, shit,” she grumbled.

Mark raised a brow in amusement, asking, “What’s wrong, baby?” She turned her phone to let him read the message and saw his expression darken.

“Tell her where she can put that order,” he advised.

Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s easier to just go and get it over with. Otherwise, I’d have to hear about what a lousy daughter I am for weeks.”

Mark put his hand under her chin, lifting it to study her. “Don’t let her do that to you. You’re playing right into her hands.”

Forgetting all about Denny, she snuggled closer, saying glumly, “I know, but it’s a hard habit to break. She’s my mother, after all. I’ll just head straight there from work and get it over with. Then I’ll go home and stare at the walls for eight hours or so until I’ve recovered.”

“Come here afterward,” Mark said against her ear. “I’ll give you something to take your mind off things for the night.”

She grinned against his chest, feeling suddenly giddy, while Denny made a gagging sound. “I hate to break up this lovefest that you two have going on, but if we don’t hit the road, we’ll be late for your first meeting, cousin.”

Mark glanced down at his watch and grimaced. “You ready, Angel?” he asked as he gently released her from his hold.

Trying to sound far more enthusiastic than she felt,
she said a bright “Yep, let’s get this Monday started.” She refrained from adding that her mother had ruined any chance of this being a good day. Mark, sensing her somber mood, simply tucked her into his side on the ride across town—letting her know that he was there, but also giving her time with her thoughts before he dropped her at home.

He stepped out with her when they reached her apartment and insisted on walking her to the door. “I’ve got several meetings today, so I’ll probably be tied up until this evening. Call me when you’re leaving your parents’ house and we’ll go from there.”

Despite being depressed over her evening plans, she felt the urge to do some kind of crazy victory dance at his casual mention of an evening together. She was going to see Mark again, and it wasn’t even a weekend night. God, she felt like such a rebel. A new and improved model of herself, thanks to DeStudo. A giggle escaped her throat before she could hold it back. He gave her an inquiring look, to which she just shrugged her shoulders. “Trust me, it’s a woman thing. You don’t want to know.”

Pulling her into his arms, he kissed the side of her neck and purred, “Oh, but I do, since I know it involves me. We’re both going to be late though, so I’ll let it go—for now.” Dropping a kiss on her lips, he added, “Have a good day, Angel. Drive safely.” As he was turning away, he suddenly swung back around. “Why don’t I have Denny circle back after he drops me at the office? He can pick you up so that you can relax on the drive this morning.”

Going to him, she curled her arms around his
stomach and gave him a squeeze. “I’m leaving from work for my parents’. I’ll be fine. It’s sweet that you care, though.”

“Sweet?” he repeated as if the word felt foreign on his tongue. Considering his reputation with women, it probably wasn’t one used to describe him often. He kissed the top of her head and pulled away. “Talk to you tonight,” he murmured before walking toward his car. Maybe she should have left that last part off. It might not have been smart to bring that to his attention. She didn’t want to scare him off, but she loved that he was concerned enough about her well-being to want to send Denny for her. Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, Mark DeSanto was a good guy. She only hoped he could accept that before he pushed her away.

•   •   •

Mark had spent the ride to work from Crystal’s apartment dealing with issues at the Boston branch of his company. As with any type of business, the most challenging problem was finding strong people that you didn’t have to constantly micromanage. Normally, he’d get on his private plane and be there in a few hours to deal with the issue in person. But the thought of traveling right now didn’t appeal to him. That was strange considering he’d lived out of a suitcase for years. He’d always kept a base in Charleston, but hell, everyone needed an official place that they called home—even if they were rarely there.

Switching home base from Charleston to Myrtle Beach had seemed logical considering his continued partnership with Jason Danvers. He’d been quietly putting down roots here, which was a testament to how weary he had become of the nonstop business travel. He’d never liked staying in one place for long, thus the reason he’d finally purchased his own plane. Flying commercial sucked when you were doing it so often.

Now here he was with a house and an actual office where he spent weeks at a stretch. Jacob had been encouraging him for ages to turn over more of the travel to him, but Mark had been resistant. He liked maintaining control in all areas of his life, and to him, if you wanted something done right, then you did it yourself. Seemed easier than taking the time to train someone else. He’d been reconsidering his stance though in the last year. He was burned-out—so fucking tired of it all. Usually, when that kind of feeling threatened to engulf him, he’d find a woman and channel his frustrations into a more pleasurable outlet.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Angel that he had handcuffs. Hell, he had a drawer full of the sorts of toys that had been in that surprising little booklet of hers. He liked to use props during sex. To him, it depersonalized the act and made it into something less intimate. It was physical release in the basest of terms.

Mark hadn’t wanted any of that last night with his Angel. He was a man; of course, he’d get off on tying her down and having her at his mercy, but for once,
that hadn’t been his first thought. No, instead he’d wanted to hold her and see the expression in her eyes as they came together for the first time. His touch had set her aflame, and she’d made no attempt to hide it from him. There was no artifice in her. She gave her body to him as if she trusted implicitly that he would take care of her.

Even as anxiety and uncertainty had clawed at him while she’d lain sleeping in his arms, he’d only pulled her closer and fought off his misgivings. His self-preservation instincts had been screaming to push her away. To send her home and put some distance between them. But for once, the part of him that was tired of being alone was stronger. So he’d allowed himself to curl his body around hers and let the rest of the world fall away.

He’d woken to her sleeping soundly against his chest, and it had felt good. It had felt right in a way he hadn’t experienced before. He’d had her in the shower, again pushing away the voice in his head that was bellowing in alarm. Then he’d invited—no, demanded—that she come to him after she’d had dinner with her bitch of a mother so that he could soothe the hurt that she would no doubt be feeling.

What was he doing? Where was this going with her? In the end, she’d be hurt and he’d be the bastard who did it. Fuck, he should walk away now before either of them got in over their head any further.
Too late—you’re barely treading water now.

Even as those thoughts swirled in his head, he picked up his phone again and called Jacob. “I need you to fly to Boston today and take care of some
problems there. Denny will make arrangements to have the jet fueled and the pilot waiting for you by noon.”

“No problem, boss,” Jacob said easily. Mark detected the note of satisfaction in the other man’s voice and knew that he was pleased that Mark was finally utilizing him in the full capacity in which he was hired. “I’ll be in touch when I land.” The call ended as abruptly as it began. Like him, Jacob was a man of few words. He didn’t need hand-holding, and for the first time, Mark was grateful for someone to share the load of responsibilities.

What disturbed him most about delegating was that he wasn’t sure who he was if not a workaholic. Women worked around his schedule—always had, and they never complained. His life revolved around two things—working and fucking. One had never interfered with the other, so why was he trying to fix what wasn’t broken? Why was he in the midst of making more time for a life he didn’t even have?
Because you’re going to end up either alone or like your parents.

“Is she messing with your head?” Mark jumped at the sound of Denny’s voice, having been completely lost in thought.

“What’re you talking about?” he asked, looking at the other man in the rearview mirror.

“Crystal has you wound pretty tight. Don’t get me wrong—I think she’s good for you. I’m just wondering how you’re handling it.”

Mark rolled his eyes sarcastically. “I’m not a virgin with his first girlfriend here. I have no idea why you
would think I’m having some nervous breakdown over Angel.”

Denny looked around, and then chuckled. “Um—maybe because we arrived at the office about ten minutes ago and you’ve been sitting back there staring into space the whole time.”

Shit
. He grimaced inwardly. He’d zoned out so completely that he hadn’t noticed that the car was no longer in motion. “Kiss my ass,” he snapped at his cousin before opening the door. He could say nothing in his defense, and Denny’s laughter said that he knew it. Time to get it together and look like the ruthless businessman that he was. No need for the world to know that he’d been shaken to his foundation by a woman he called Angel.
Hashtag fucked,
he thought wryly. Thank God the other man couldn’t read minds.

Crystal arrived at her parents’ house with just moments to spare. Apparently, Ella was running even later, because there was no sign of her car there. Grabbing her phone, she texted a quick
Where are you? You know how Mom gets when we’re late.

She was on the front walkway when Ella texted back.
What are you talking about?

Crystal froze, quickly replying with
Mandatory family dinner at the parents. We’re supposed to be here at seven. Did you forget?

When she read her sister’s next message, she wanted to drop, roll, and run.
She didn’t contact me, Crys. Oh crap, ambush, run!

She was backing away when the front door flung open and her mother stood on the threshold with her hands on her hips. “Honey, what are you doing out here?” Then, as if she couldn’t resist, she sweetly added, “You’re a little late. I was afraid you’d had an accident or something.” Crystal could feel her phone chiming away with no-doubt-frantic messages from Ella, but it was too late now. She had officially entered the den of the spider, and escaping that particular web before she was released would be damn near impossible. And what was with the endearment? Why was
her mother trying to be pleasant? That was even more frightening than the idea of a good verbal lashing.

“Er—where’s Ella?” she asked, as if she didn’t already know.

“Oh, you know how busy she is now, with the new baby.” Her mother waved her hand as if to say,
What’re you gonna do?
“Plus, Declan doesn’t like to visit, so why force the issue?”

A sense of foreboding washed over her as she thought,
This is bad.
Her mother had taken only a small dig at Declan instead of her usual rant over her son-in-law. Either she was trying to turn over a new leaf or something was up in a big way. “We can do it another time,” Crystal offered, hoping the desperate tone in her voice wasn’t readily apparent.

Motioning to the still-open door, her mother said, “Oh, nonsense. Come on in.”

Seeing no other choice, she edged around her mother and into the hallway of the house she’d grown up in. Not one for change, her mother was still clinging to the dark paneling on the walls that made the whole space seem small and dark.

Her father appeared just as her mother walked off to check on dinner. “Crystal—it’s good to see you,” he said before dropping a kiss on her forehead. Before he moved away, his voice dropped to a near whisper as he added, “Your mother invited Bill. I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is when she makes up her mind.”

“Are you serious?” Crystal asked in a shrill voice just as there was a knock on the door behind her. Her father gave her an apologetic half smile before opening
the door to her ex-husband. She didn’t even know why she was so surprised. Her mother did what she wanted, and in order to keep the peace, her father refrained from making waves. He’d managed to stand up to his wife a couple of times that Crystal could recall, the last being when Ella was in the hospital after being hit by a neglectful driver while she was crossing the street. Their father had kept her firmly in place then, refusing to let her continue to make snide comments to Ella’s friends in the waiting room. That had been his last stand. He hadn’t bothered to intervene as his wife continued to verbally bully his other daughter over her divorce and whatever else she could find fault with. Crystal loved him because, well, he was her father, but she’d lost her respect for the man years ago. He wasn’t the head of the family—he’d abandoned that position without a fight.

“Bill, good to see you again.” She heard him greet her ex-husband as warmly as if he were the long-lost son returning from war. In this household, it was obvious that Bill was the favorite and she was the disappointment. Oh, how she wished that she had the backbone to walk out and leave them all to gush over each other. But no, like the glutton for punishment that she was, she plastered on a smile and tried not to cringe when Bill stepped forward to kiss her cheek.

“How are you, Crystal?” he asked, sounding so formal she had a hard time remembering that she’d actually been married to the man for years. They’d had sex hundreds of times—maybe not good sex, but they’d joined together for brief encounters. How was it that they seemed so much like strangers now in such a
short amount of time? It drove home to her the fact that she’d never really known him, and she certainly hadn’t understood what love was when she’d said
I do
.

“I’m great,” she finally replied to his question halfheartedly. Before she was forced to make further conversation, her mother rounded the corner and fussed over him as if he were some visiting dignitary.

“Bill, I’m so glad you could come tonight. It’s been far too long since you two have been over for dinner.” Crystal could only gape as her mother acted as if their divorce had never happened. She was almost afraid she would next be asking when they planned to have a baby.

Crystal stepped back from where her parents gathered around Bill and studied the man who’d once been her husband. She found it hard to believe that she’d ever thought him handsome, although many women would probably find him attractive. His brown hair was thick, and he kept it neatly styled. He pressed his dress pants perfectly, and his polo shirt had creases down the sleeves. She knew for a fact that he spent close to ten minutes picking any new lint off his black socks in the morning. He was so well put together that she’d always felt frumpy compared to him. Of course, the fact that he’d made subtle comments about her appearance hadn’t helped.

Bill had needed a meek wife who wanted nothing more in life than to devote her attention to his happiness. One who wouldn’t think twice about all of his OCD ways. What he’d gotten instead was her. And although she had spent years trying to please him, in the end, she’d discovered that to make him happy,
she’d have to lose herself in the process. Sadly, without Ella having shown her what it was like to love and to be loved in return, she would more than likely still be attempting to be someone that she was not.

She found herself herded into the dining room and seated beside her ex-husband. Her mother generally served what she considered her prize-worthy meat loaf when she was entertaining, and tonight was no exception. She’d always found her mother’s go-to dish dry and bland but had never had the nerve to admit that aloud.

Her mother dominated the conversation throughout the meal, with Bill and her father occasionally contributing. As was the norm, no one bothered to include her, and for once, she was grateful.

She’d been quietly planning her escape when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up to see Bill studying her. He cleared his throat, swallowing audibly. “Could . . .um . . . I speak to you for a minute?” He seemed to notice at the same time as her that their exchange had her parents engrossed. “Alone,” he added before getting to his feet. She considered his request for a moment before rising as well. She figured she’d have an easier time dealing with him than with her mother. And with any luck, she could make her getaway shortly afterward.

Feeling generous, since he was helping her escape, she smiled, saying, “Sure, how about we take a walk?”

It made her a little uneasy when he brightened as if she’d just handed him an early Christmas present. Maybe she wasn’t the only one looking for an excuse to run tonight. Her mother had probably demanded
that he show up for the mandatory dinner as well. Poor Bill—he wasn’t about to say no to Dot Webber either. Apparently, Declan was the only one not intimidated by her. Well—him and Mark. He would be her mother’s nightmare. Like Declan, he’d have no problem calling her on her behavior. She couldn’t fathom how wonderful it would be to have that type of buffer. Ella had it now. Her sister still took a lot of crap from their mother, but Declan stepped in when he felt it was needed.

When they reached the back deck, Bill took her hand, helping her down the steps. They’d been walking through the wooded landscape for a few moments before she realized that he hadn’t released her hand. He’d never been the hand-holding type, so this was foreign to her. She was relieved when he stopped next to a bench that her father liked to use for his bird-watching hobby. She thought it was possibly just an excuse to have some time alone when he was desperate to escape, which she certainly understood. She took a seat, freeing herself from his hold. “It’s really nice out tonight,” she said lamely. Shit, why could she no longer talk to someone with whom she’d once shared a home?

Without answering, he perched next to her, staring off into space. He looked every bit as uncomfortable as she felt. So she really wasn’t surprised when he asked, “What happened to us, Crystal?”

Releasing her breath on a loud sigh, she said quietly, “I don’t know, Bill. I guess it’s inevitable after divorce that things would be awkward between us.”

He raised a hand, pushing it through his hair in a gesture of agitation. She had to fight the urge to smooth
down the strands that were now sticking up. It just seemed wrong to see Bill disheveled. She almost fell from her seat in shock when he said, “I know it’s my fault that our marriage failed, and now we can’t even say hello without it being strange.”

“Bill . . . I’m sure they are things that we both could have done differently. But I’ve come to realize that we’re just two people who are far too different to have a successful marriage. That doesn’t mean that either of us was to blame. We just weren’t compatible.”

“But I loved you,” he said without hesitation, “and I still do. I never wanted to let you go. I just didn’t know how to keep you.”

Feeling her throat go tight, she stared at the man she’d once thought she’d spend her life with. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said sincerely. At the time, she wasn’t even sure he really cared, but now she could see that she’d been very wrong.

He took her hand in his for the second time that night and absently rubbed her fingers. “You know the type of parents I come from. They’re not very . . . demonstrative, and that’s how I was raised. I knew—especially the last few years of our marriage—that you wanted more from me, but I couldn’t give that to you. I just . . . didn’t know how, Crystal. I felt like a total failure as a man because you were slipping away a little more each day and I was powerless to stop it. You’d look at me, and I could see the unhappiness there. I knew the day that Ella got married that I’d lost you. I watched you up there standing next to her as she took her vows, and I could see that it was over for you. I’m sure no one else noticed it because all eyes
were on the bride and groom, but I saw the longing that you couldn’t hide. You wanted what she had. Not Declan, but someone like him. I think, at that point, the part of me that had been holding out hope just gave up. I’m not that guy, and I never will be. After that, I was an ass to you—even more than usual, I know. But it was the only way I could face you leaving. I had to pretend that I didn’t care anymore.”

Letting her head rest against his arm, Crystal murmured, “Oh, Bill . . . why didn’t you say all of this before? I was so lost myself that I would have been thrilled if you’d admitted you felt the same way.”

With a laugh devoid of humor, he said, “Manly pride. I couldn’t admit to you that I didn’t know how to be the husband you needed. It’s not a great feeling when you aren’t giving the woman you love what she needs. Instead of trying, I kept ignoring the problem and just hoped it would go away.” Shrugging his shoulders, he added, “If nothing else, months of therapy have made me accept that.”

She had nodded before his words hit her. “Wait—what? You’re going to a therapist?”

He looked embarrassed for a moment. “Yes, I am. I started a few months after we split up. I was so depressed I could barely function. I’d run into you at some gathering your mother insisted I attend, and you’d look so beautiful—and happy. You were flourishing without me, but I wasn’t doing too well myself. Remember my cousin Calvin, who went through a divorce a few years back?” At her nod, he continued. “He recommended his marriage counselor, who also works with individuals.”

“Wow.” She blinked, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. This was probably the sweetest and, strangely enough, the most intimate conversation that they’d ever had. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“What I’d like to hear,” he began earnestly, “is that you’ll go to counseling with me. I realize that it won’t happen overnight, but I want a chance to show you that I can change. I hate to admit it, but it took you leaving for me to wake up. Would you consider giving me another chance?”

Oh, my God.
This was the last thing she had expected from him. Sure, he’d tried to talk her out of the divorce, but in the end, he’d signed the papers and hadn’t contested it. Her mother kept telling her that Bill wanted her back, and he’d admitted as much when he’d had the opportunity to talk to her. But it had been nothing like this. The man sitting beside her now was saying things that her husband would never have admitted to. He was shouldering the blame for their failed marriage and had sought help on his own. She was stunned and touched that he would let such vulnerability show. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run or give him the hug he looked as if he desperately needed. “This is—so unexpected,” she stuttered out.

He laughed softly. “I can imagine that this is a lot to take in. I don’t want you to give me your answer tonight. But if you’ll at least say that you’ll think about it, I would be extremely grateful.”

She moved her hand to squeeze his leg, and then thought better of it. That might be misconstrued as an intimate gesture, especially with what he’d revealed.
“Bill—so much has happened,” she began speaking, only to halt when he got to his feet.

“Let’s don’t say anything else tonight until you’ve taken a few days to think it over. Please?”

He looked so hopeful as he stared down at her. There was no way she could say no, at least not right now. She really didn’t have any desire to return to her previous life, but she felt as if she owed him this consideration after the years that they’d spent together. “Okay.” She nodded.