Unforgettable (21 page)

“When my family died, I had nothing left, really,” she began. “Dad’s insurance policy covered the funeral expenses, paid off the house and everything else, but I was 19 with a high school diploma, one semester of college and very little work experience. Once the bills were paid, there was enough money left over to cover the utilities for a year or so, but I still had to find a way to make money for groceries and other expenses. I had no choice but to drop out of college and take a job as a cashier at the local grocery store. How was I going to survive on a minimum wage job when Dad’s money was gone? I didn’t know how to do anything except crochet, so I scrimped and saved every penny I could. In my spare time, I’d sit here and crochet just to keep myself from going insane worrying about things over which I had no control.

“By the end of that first year, I had a huge supply of finished crocheted items such as afghans, sweaters, hats, scarves, dolls and more, but I had no idea what to do with them all. Dad’s money was nearly gone by then, so I took all my crafts to the flea market hoping to earn some extra money. I was surprised by how well they sold and, by the end of the third year; I was surviving on my crafts alone. Just barely, mind you, but I was getting by and showing a fairly good profit. A few months later, I had to quit my cashier’s job just to keep up with the orders.

“When Susan came home from college in the fourth year, I hired her and another girl to help me fill the orders. What was left of Dad’s money was drawing interest in the bank and so was a large portion of what I was earning. I made a point of teaching myself how to make one new item a week and put a picture into a portfolio so I could get orders for them. By the end of the fifth year, I bought a small gift shop in town and ‘The Breezeway’ was born. Eventually, I stopped taking as many orders as I had been because I simply couldn’t keep up. However, I kept those customers who’d been with me from the beginning and placed large orders year after year. With Susan’s help, we made ‘The Breezeway’ a success. It earns enough to make Susan and Pearl a good side income and a comfortable living for me. But, most of all, it allows me to be my own boss and keep this house and all the memories it holds. Nothing in the world could ever replace them.

“I’d just purchased and opened ‘The Breezeway’ and that… that’s when I met Frank. God! What a mistake that was. He was supposed to help by building shelves and doing repairs on the shop, as well as here at the house. He was really nice at first…very pleasant, funny, charming and highly intelligent. I’d been completely alone for four years, meeting only strangers and business clients at work. I never went out, unless it was to go shopping for supplies, or to go to work. Frank was very handsome and, like I said, charming. After a few weeks, he talked me into going out with him.

“I never hid anything from him. If he asked me something about myself, my life, or my business, I told him. I guess, in my own way, I volunteered information. Things were fine for a while until, little by little, he began to change. At first, it was little things…being late all the time for work and dates. I mean
hours
late. Verbal abuse came next. He’d make fun of the way I looked or the way I dressed. He would call me names in front of our friends and even customers. It was all so subtle that I didn’t see it until it was too late. He played it off as teasing, lighthearted and playful but, all too soon, it turned mean. He lied about everything and used every bit of information he knew about me to get what he wanted, which was usually money.

“Things went from bad to worse when he started drinking and, I’ve always suspected, doing drugs. Large amounts of money began to disappear from my purse, from the shop and even from the bank. I had no earthly idea he was forging my name on the shop checking account, making the checks out to himself, and the bank was cashing them! The lies got bigger and bigger, of course, and came more often…so did the verbal abuse, which finally became physical. One day, I caught him in a lie and called him out on it. Well, he flew into a rage and slapped me right across the face. He hit me so hard, it knocked me clear across the room and… and bruised the entire right side of my face. I got mad enough to end it right there and then. I fired him, told him to get out of my life and off my property and he did, for about a week and a half.”

“What the hell, Breezy? You should have had him arrested for assault and battery, not to mention forgery and theft,” Patrick gasped in shock. Hearing Breezy tell her story so calmly made him realize just how brave and strong she was. He also realized and understood why she pushed him away at times and didn’t believe him when he complimented her. This asshole, Frank, had ripped away all of her self-esteem, pride and trust.

“I did. They held him for 24 hours on a domestic abuse charge and then let him go when he sobered up. I didn’t know about the forgery at the time and couldn’t prove the theft. I was just glad it was over. He was out of my life, or so I thought. Like I said, he came back a week and a half later.

“I was home alone one night when he just burst through the front door, literally ripping it off the hinges. He was drunk…more drunk than I’d ever seen anyone in my entire life, and he was absolutely furious. About what, I never knew. He just exploded through the door raging at me and calling me names. We argued for the longest time, standing toe-to-toe, screaming like a couple of banshees. I kept ordering him off my property and he wouldn’t leave. He started getting violent then, throwing things at me, smashing knick-knacks and anything else he could get his hands on. He was breaking things he knew meant a lot to me because they’d belonged to my mother and father. I really got scared then and tried to call the police, but he ripped the phone out of the wall, tore off the receiver and threw them both across the room.

“He started slapping me and hitting me with his fists wherever he could make contact. I tried fighting him off but, even as drunk as he was, he was just too strong.

“He…he tried…to rape me that night. I was so terrified and angry I just grabbed the nearest thing I could get my hands on, which happened to be the bottom part of the phone he’d just ripped out of the wall, and hit him over the head with it as hard as I could. I got away from him and ran to Susan’s house as fast as my feet would carry me. By the time the police got here, he’d vanished. I never saw him again. No one has.”

“Jesus Christ! It’s a miracle you ever learned to trust anyone again,” Patrick groaned. What he wouldn’t give to get his hands on this Frank guy. He’d rip his head off with his bare hands and not give it a second thought.

“It took a long time, and a lot of help from good friends, but I learned to take care of myself. I still can’t trust strangers too far, at least not until I get to know them really well…especially men,” she said.

“The reason I was so rude to you over the drawings last night was because that was the only thing that kept me sane through the whole ordeal with Frank. When things got to be too much for me to handle, I would escape everything by drawing my dream home as if it was another world I could just walk into. It was the only part of my life Frank didn’t know about…the only part of me he hadn’t been able to demean and mock. My friends didn’t even know how bad things were between Frank and me until he hit me and bruised my face that first time. When I saw you with those drawings, I guess I just panicked and got scared all over again.”

“Well, that’s certainly understandable now, angel,” he replied, taking her hand gently.

“I want you to look at them now, Patrick. Think of it as therapy for me. If I can show them to you, then I think, maybe, I’ll feel better about everything,” she said, pulling the drawings out from beside the sofa.

“I know that, after someone hurts you like that, lies and degrades you in such a way, it’s hard to believe anything anyone says, but I don’t believe in lying, Breezy. I’ve never raised a hand to anyone who didn’t intend me bodily harm first. I’ve never raised a hand to any woman and I never would. I’d never hurt you in any way. I think you are a truly unique and beautiful woman and I want you to know that you have nothing to fear from me. If I ever ask a question that’s too personal, please just tell me and I’ll back off, I promise,” he said softly, meaning every word.

“Thank you for that, Patrick. By now, outside of my favorite color, I think you know everything there is to know about me,” she smiled.

“Oh, I doubt that very much. You are, without a doubt, the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known, not to mention the most talented and the most gorgeous. Something tells me there’s an entire world of intriguing things yet to be discovered and explored behind those scintillating blue eyes of yours,” he grinned.

***

Nearly two weeks had passed since that night and Breezy and Patrick had spent nearly every second of it together. With all of her past and fears brought out into the open, she was learning to relax around him and, slowly, she was learning to trust him. She’d taken a huge risk by telling him everything and she hadn’t been disappointed.

Patrick was on his way to her house now. It had been an unseasonably warm day but a storm was on the horizon. As dark clouds rolled in, the weather report predicted increasingly colder temperatures. Since it was already drizzling rain, their evening out on the town was probably going to turn into an evening indoors, alone, which suited Patrick just fine. The more time he spent alone with Breezy, the happier he was. When he parked the car in front of her house, he beheld a most amazing sight.

“Breezy, what in the world are you doing?” he asked. She was standing in the rain, in the middle of her front yard, wearing a floral print dress. Her feet were bare and she was laughing and spinning around in circles with her arms outstretched.

“I’m enjoying the second chance you gave me, Patrick. I told you I could dance in the rain again because of you, remember?” she asked, smiling brightly. Her eyes followed as he moved to stand under a tree for shelter, looking sinfully gorgeous as ever, his ebony hair wildly yet perfectly out of control. He wore a crisp white dress shirt, snug fitting gray slacks and the end-all, beat-all, sexiest thing she had ever seen a man wear in her life…black suspenders. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he watched her with amusement and curiosity. No doubt he was thinking she’d lost her ever loving mind.

“I remember,” he said. “I thought it was just a figure of speech.” He couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from between his lips as he edged a little closer to the tree. It wasn’t raining very hard yet, but he didn’t relish the thought of standing in the middle of it getting wet. Breezy, however, was already soaked through and apparently having the time of her life. Her dress clung to her slender body in all the right places and he could see the outline of her nipples through the thin material. Despite his unwillingness to brave the rain, he was delighted to see how dramatically this beautiful woman had changed right before his eyes over the past few weeks. He only hoped he could keep his rising desire for her under control until the time was right to unleash it.

“Hey, Patrick! Have you ever played rain tag?” Breezy hollered, just as the rain began to fall a little harder.

“Rain tag? What’s that?” he asked.

With no warning whatsoever, she scooped up two handfuls of water out of the bird bath and threw it on his crisp, dry, white shirt.

“TAG! YOU’RE IT!” she shrieked and took off running.

After a moment of stunned silence and blustering, Patrick broke into exuberant laughter and tore after her. She dodged him by ducking behind a tree, giggling the whole time. When she tried to get out from behind the tree by running past him as fast as she could, he grabbed her by the waist, swung her up into the air and cradled her in his arms.

“You are one crazy lady!” he cried, laughter belying his words. With a loud clash of thunder, the light rain suddenly became a torrential downpour, soaking Patrick to the skin in seconds.

“And
you
are all wet!” she giggled, snapping his wet black suspenders.

Patrick carried her into the house, dumped her onto the sofa and plopped down beside her, both of them dissolving into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. “You’re incredible! You could have caught your death of cold out there, woman!” he said.

“Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket!” Breezy was laughing so hard she fell against his shoulder and clung to him while she tried to regain her composure.

Patrick stopped laughing, stunned by the euphoria of her touch and the scent of her hair. Breezy slowly looked up at him and their eyes met and held. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d wanted to, and he didn’t want to. He bent down and kissed her. What he never expected was her response to him. For the first time, she returned his kiss with a passion like nothing he’d ever known before. Her fingers traveled up his shoulder and neck until they tangled in his thick hair, unconsciously tugging it in a way that caused his trousers to tighten. Patrick deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue along her bottom lip until Breezy took him in with a desire-filled sigh. Without breaking the kiss, he moved so they were lying on the sofa, bodies straining and writhing frantically against each other. As he moved over her, Breezy wrapped her slim legs around his waist tightly and moaned into his mouth. Her movements had pressed them intimately together and his hardening cock raged to be set free. His large warm hand trembled as it traveled slowly from her knee up the outside of her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress up along the way. Breezy hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt to the waist and pulled it free from his pants and suspenders, leaving the suspenders on his shoulders. Her hands splayed across the wide expanse of his heaving chest. Patrick broke the kiss only to start a trail of hungry kisses down her throat to her collarbone.

“God, I want you, Breezy,” he groaned in a deep, breathless whisper. His clever fingers found her waist, encountering the edge of her silk and lace panties. He curled his fingers around them and slowly began to slide them down over her hips.

“Patrick…Patrick wait. This is too much…too fast,” she gasped, gently pushing him back and rolling off the couch. She stood quickly, readjusting her clothing with shaky fingers. The sound of his sexy, passion-filled voice and the feel of his fingers tugging at her underwear had abruptly broken the enchantment, reminding her that they were only friends. Even so, she yearned to stay right there in his arms and finish what they’d started. She wanted desperately to experience what she’d been dreaming of doing for weeks. She felt as if she knew him better than she’d ever known anyone in her life and, Lord knew, she was attracted to him in every possible way, but it was all more than she was ready for.