Whatever We Are: A Highland Springs Romance (Whatever Series Book 3) Page 13

  “It’s a damn shame she won’t put out. She’s hot.”

  “I’d do her.”

  “Maybe she just didn’t want Bret. Hey, Liza, want to climb in my backseat?”

  By the time she got to her car, hot, angry tears were streaming down her face, and she suddenly remembered Diana had ridden with her. She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, causing a numbing pain from her palm to her elbow. She climbed back out and went in search of her cousin.

  She didn’t have to go far before she heard familiar Minnie Mouse laughter coming from inside a car. She turned in a circle to find which car and her eyes landed on Bret’s BMW. Diana’s laughter rang out again and Liza knew she was in the car with him.

  Liza pounded on the roof of his car and Bret opened the door. Diana was inside, topless with her pants unzipped, and Bret was furious.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “Diana, I’m leaving. Bret can drive you home.”

  “Wait, Lizard. No. You have to take me home. My dad will kill me. Give me ten more minutes.”

  “No, I’m leaving now.”

  “Come on, give us a few more minutes,” Bret said. Then he whispered, “It’s the least you can do since you turned me down.”

  Without another word, Liza turned and stalked toward her car. Not only had he spread the news to his friends that she was a tease, but he had to go to her perfect cousin to get his thrills. Couldn’t he have picked someone else? Of course, Diana had given him what he wanted.

  Liza jumped back in the car, turned the ignition, and careened around several cars parked helter-skelter in the grassy field. She had just pulled onto the gravel lane when a hand pounded against the passenger-side window. It was Diana, still in the process of buttoning her coat. Liza stopped to let her in.

  “What the hell is the matter with you, Lizard? You were just going to leave me? You couldn’t wait ten minutes?”

  “For what, so you can have sex with Bret Bridges?”

  “Um, yeah. It’s Bret Bridges. Nobody turns him down.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Liza floored it out of the holler. Her old Corolla struggled to climb the steep gravel road, its engine grinding as she pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

  “You’re such a bitch, you know that. I would’ve waited for you if the tables were turned.”

  “I wouldn’t have been screwing in some guy’s car.”

  “It wasn’t some guy’s car. It was Bret and it was a BMW. Who passes that up?”

  “I did.”

  “Oh, wait…” Diana burst out laughing, slapping her hand against the dashboard. “That was you the guys were talking about? Oh my God.”

  “The very same.”

  “He said you wouldn’t do it unless you were dating. You are so old fashioned. That’s not how it’s done.”

  “Obviously.”

  When they reached the top of the steep hill, the car skidded and swerved on a patch of ice-covered pavement. Liza was able to straighten the tires, but couldn’t stop the flow of tears.

  “You can’t go to college a virgin. You can’t. I mean everybody hooks up.”

  Rather than reply, she concentrated on keeping her watery focus on the road and the tires from slipping. A light drizzle fell, creating a thin sheet of ice on her windshield.

  “Maybe I don’t want to be like everyone else. What’s wrong with waiting?”

  “You’ll die an old lady, a spinster. No guy wants a virgin anymore.”

  “Oh, really? They all want sluts like you.”

  “Did you just call me a slut?”

  “Yes. How many guys have you been with?”

  “More than you’ll ever have.”

  “I’d rather die a virgin than catch a skanky disease.”

  “How dare you!”

  Their voices were rising and Liza was having a harder time keeping her eyes on the road.

  “Take me back. I’ll find another way home.” Diana reached for the steering wheel and Liza swerved, missing a tree by inches.

  “Stop it. You almost made me wreck.”

  “It would serve you right. No one calls me a skank and gets away with it.”

  Diana reached over and yanked on Liza’s coat. “You’re such a bitch. You think you’re so much better than me, but you’re just a weirdo.” Diana tugged back and forth on her coat, distracting her from driving.

  “Let go, Diana.”

  “Not until you apologize.”

  “Get your hands off me, you little slut.”

  Diana punched Liza hard in the shoulder just as they were coming around a curve. The distraction caused Liza to spin on a patch of ice and swerve into the path of an oncoming pickup truck. The car spun three-sixty and crashed headfirst into an oak tree, and then tipped onto the driver’s side. Everything went dark and Liza woke up five days later in the hospital.

  SEVENTEEN

  Liza’s lungs ceased up, unable to breathe because of the memories flooding her mind. She doubled over and Tucker wrapped his arm around her waist, rushing her out of the house with waves of good-night as they hurried to his truck. The bitter cold helped expand her lungs and the pain surging through her head lessened. She stripped off her wig and glasses along the way, needing to get alone with Tucker. She had been so cruel to him that night. No wonder he held back his feelings for her. How could he even stand to be around her after the way she’d talked to him?

  After helping her into the passenger seat, he climbed inside and she leaped into his lap, smothering his face against her shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Tucker.”

  “What for?” His muffled response tickled the velvet against her skin and she realized she was suffocating him. She dropped back beside him and gathered his face in her mittened hands.

  “For everything. Tonight I—”

  “Forget about tonight. I knew it wasn’t you. I’m just sorry Diana said those terrible things.”

  “No, that’s just it. I’m glad she did. I remembered everything.”

  He drew back out of her grasp. The moonlight illuminated his wary gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “I remembered everything that happened the night of the wreck—the parts I had forgotten. I remember Diana making out in Bret’s car and the two of us fighting. I called her a slut and she punched me and grabbed the wheel and then headlights and then—”

  Her heart was racing. Just saying the words made it all come back to her so vividly, she heard the screech of the tires and the blare of the oncoming pickup’s horn.

  Tucker cupped her face in his hands. “We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

  “We do.”

  “No, we don’t.” His words were so emphatic, so final, he dropped his hands from her face and reached around her to start the truck. She scooted back to her seat and buckled up. He may not want to talk about it now, but when they got home, they would. She had to show him that was then but this was now. She was all grown up, knew what she wanted, and had indeed found a man who treated her like a precious jewel.

  ***

  They rode in silence back to Liza’s house, taking it slow over the icy roads. Tucker’s concentration on getting them home safely helped control the rising panic seizing his lungs. If she remembered the details of the wreck, that meant she remembered her declaration that they would never have a future together. What if by remembering those words she would once again be turned off by him? She would think it was wrong to date her brother’s best friend?

  He followed her into the house and hung up their coats while Liza ran upstairs and slammed her bedroom door. Just as he suspected, those memories were doing a number on her and she wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe that was a good thing. He really wasn’t ready to hear the words she had already tried to get through his thick skull: “We can only be friends.”

  Unbuckling the big, black belt, he dropped the Santa coat on a side chair and headed for the shower.

  A half-hour later, he came into the
kitchen to get a glass of water and found her sitting on the sofa in the soft glow of Christmas tree lights, wrapped in a satin robe.

  “I thought you went to bed,” he said, coming into the living room. Her face was freshly washed and her hair fell in soft waves down her back. With her legs tucked behind her, she shook her head and patted the cushion beside her.

  “We need to talk.”

  The four worst words in the English language: we need to talk. How many break-ups, how many broken hearts had begun with we need to talk? He knew it was coming, so he might as well take his medicine and try not to choke on it. He sat beside her and put his glass on the coffee table.

  “Tonight was crazy, huh?” She picked up his hand and held it in her lap.

  “Crazy.”

  “And just to be clear, I didn’t encourage Bret’s kisses or ask him to do it or anything like that.”

  “Yup, I got it.”

  “But I did remember everything from the wreck, including the hateful things I said to you.”

  Here it came. They would forever remain just friends. She thought it then and had figured it still made sense now.

  “Tucker, I’m so sorry.”

  He braced himself, prepared for the hammer to come down.

  “I was so awful to you that night. If I could, I’d take it all back. I was a stupid teenager who didn’t know what an amazing guy you were…and still are.”

  Wait, this didn’t sound like the bomb drop he was expecting. She crawled over to him, rose onto her knees, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “You said I was smart to wait for a great guy like you to come along, and I’m glad I did.”

  “You are?”

  “You know…” Liza leaned in and grazed her lips across his cheek. “In case you were wondering…” She pecked soft kisses behind his ear. “I haven’t been faking.” Her tongue drew a wet line down his neck. “I tried to convince myself we should just be friends, but…” She stopped her tender assault and locked her eyes with his. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  Happiness swelled in his chest. She was ready for more than just friendship. Things couldn’t be more perfect than right at this moment. A flickering candle gave off the smell of fresh pine, the Christmas tree lights glowed softly, and the woman he loved was in his arms.

  He ran his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head, and poured every blessed ounce of love into a kiss that brought a sweet sigh and her arms tighter around him. They stayed locked in the kiss while his hands explored the soft contours of her back and bottom. A moment ago he was ready to have his heart crushed and handed to him, but instead she was kissing him like her life depended on it. She straddled his lap with her pajama-clad legs and he rubbed his hands over her thighs and…

  She stopped. Her arms dropped from around his neck and she scooted off his lap, tucking the robe tightly around her. What the hell happened?

  ***

  “There’s more I need to tell you before we, well…”

  “What’s wrong?”

  How could she begin to explain about her leg, its ugliness, and how much she wanted to make love with him? What if he rejected her?

  “Tell me what’s bothering you? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No.” She turned toward him and draped an arm over his shoulder. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s me.”

  “Please don’t start with that passionless, tease business.”

  “No, that’s not it. I need to warn you of something, something few people know about.”

  They were sitting too close. His big, brown eyes were full of confusion. She needed space, some air between them. Popping off the sofa, she paced slowly in front of the fireplace, keeping her eyes on the flickering flame.

  “My parents know, and Brody, of course, and Kate and Riley have seen it. It’s so embarrassing and if I could I’d shield you from it but we’re growing so close and obviously we’re attracted to each other and eventually we’re not going to be able to stop so I don’t want you to be shocked when you—”

  “Liza.” She didn’t even realize he had crossed the room and now his hands were cupping her face. “Tell me what it is.”

  There was no turning back now.

  “You know my injuries from the wreck were—”

  “A badly broken leg and head injury.”

  “Right, but what you don’t know—haven’t seen—is the damage to my leg.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She took a deep breath, shook her head against the fear, and blurted, “My leg was mangled, not just broken, and I have a hideous scar that I’m afraid will totally gross you out.”

  The room turned deathly quiet and Tucker dropped his hands to her shoulders. She glanced up, catching his baseball-sized stare. That was it; he knew her truth and was shocked and disgusted. When she attempted to get away, he tightened his grip on her shoulders and threw his head back in loud, raucous laughter.

  “It’s not funny.”

  He continued laughing and anger swelled inside her.

  “Stop laughing, you big oaf. It’s horrible. It runs from my hip to my knee and it’s all pinchy and jagged and…why are you still laughing?” She wrenched out of his hands and jabbed her elbow into his ribs before heading toward the stairs.

  “Wait, wait, wait.” He grabbed her arm just as she stepped onto the first tread. “I’m sorry, wait, I wasn’t laughing at you.”

  “Well, if you weren’t laughing at me, who were you laughing at?” She folded her arms over her chest and watched him struggle to wipe the smile from his face. How dare he laugh at her deformity? Did she make fun of him when he was overweight? Well, maybe she had, when she was thirteen, but this was completely different.

  “I’m laughing—but not anymore—not about your injury. That’s terrible for sure. But, Liza, do you think that matters to me? Babe…” He unfolded her arms, placed them on his shoulders, and pulled her into his embrace. “It wouldn’t matter if you had an ugly scar running from your head to your toes, I’d still think you are beautiful.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You haven’t seen it.”

  “Will you show me?”

  Actually, she had hoped he’d never see it. When they finally made love, she planned to keep the lights off and the room in pitch darkness. Perhaps that was unrealistic. He needed to see it and determine for himself if it was something he could live with.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” He lifted her off the step and pulled her by the hand back to the sofa. “Take off your pants and show me.”

  “Right here?”

  “Yeah, right here. If you want, I’ll close my eyes while you pull them down.”

  Tucker settled back against the cushions, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. At least she was wearing a robe. She could open it like a flasher, give him a quick peek, and then wait for him to reject her. It would all be over in a matter of minutes.

  She pushed her pajama pants to the floor and stepped out of them, leaving them lying in front of the fire. After adjusting her robe and tightening the sash, she walked over and stood in front of Tucker, her quivering knees threatened to buckle.

  “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

  When he did, they immediately dropped to her legs and he leaned his elbows on his knees.

  “I’m just going to open my robe enough so you can get a quick look and that’s it. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Her hands shook as she gathered the satin robe in her left hand and slowly pulled it up over her knee. Afraid to see his reaction, she kept her eyes on the task at hand, fighting to keep her breathing slow and steady. He didn’t say a word as she raised the robe a little higher to expose the worst part of it where the injury had left a deep crevice in her flesh. He’d seen enough. She dropped the silky fabric from her hand and he grabbed the robe, pulling it open to expose her entire left leg.

  “Tucker, no.”

  “Hush.”
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  As light as a soft breeze, his fingers grazed along the scar, as if they were following the route on a road map. His eyes were hooded and his mouth set in a firm line. Why didn’t he say something? How long would he make her endure this humiliation? She brushed his hand away and closed the robe, but he grabbed her wrist in one hand and pulled the garment away with the other. He touched his lips to the most hideous part of her scar and she jumped back, but just as quickly his arm snaked around her waist, stopping her escape.

  “Please, Tucker, stop.”

  “Nope. Not stopping.”

  Her knees locked and she squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to curl into a ball and hide when he began feather soft kisses down the length of her scar. How mortifying to have him so intimately close with his lips touching her awful deformity. She released the air from her lungs when he finally quit kissing her mangled leg. Instead of letting the robe drop, he pressed soft kisses on the other, unblemished thigh, and all at once her legs turned to jelly.

  No longer frozen with fear, she melted to his touch and ran her fingers through his hair. This was nice. Her head tipped back and she sighed as he ran his hands up the back of her thighs. Palming her bottom, he let the robe fall back in place and smiled as he pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He’d taken a horrifying moment and turned it into something beautiful. Letting out her pent-up breath, she snuggled in closer and laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Thank you for not being repulsed.” She chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “No, I wasn’t repulsed, but you weren’t kidding. That scar is hideous.”

  “Tucker!” Tears filled her eyes and she attempted to push out of his arms, but she was no match for his strength. He forced her back onto his lap and held her head against his chest.

  “Listen to me.” Three sweet kisses grazed her forehead. “That scar is horrible, not because of what it looks like, but what you must have gone through to get it. I knew you spent a long time in the hospital, but thought it had something to do with your head.”