Page 44 of Back in the Texan's Bed
I lowered my personal standards to become the plaything of a man who deemed me good enough for a fuck but not to escort past the kitchen. Every time I wear that necklace it’s a reminder to myself to never repeat that mistake.
He locked his knees, steadying himself as Charlotte’s words threatened to knock him back into the chair. Yes, they’d disappeared during the event and had sex. And later that night, after they returned home, he’d lost himself in her again. But he couldn’t eject those words from his head. Couldn’t convince himself that, although she’d apologized, she hadn’t meant them.
She’d called him a mistake and it was nothing he hadn’t thought before. A mistake to her, to his parents, even to the women he’d fucked and forgotten. Which made sense in a screwed-up but logical way. Because if he was truly important to them, how could they so easily walk away from him?
So while he’d had Charlotte’s body, he didn’t have her loyalty. Definitely not her love, not that he’d asked for that, and not since she’d made it clear he was an error she’d never repeat. The bottom line was he had no hold on her, except their son, that would compel her to stay with him. And Charlotte had proven her capability in raising Ben as a single parent.
No.
The objection blasted through his head, loud and furious. Ben was his son. And regardless of whether she left or not, he wouldn’t allow her to take Ben away from him.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Ross said, arching an eyebrow and forcing an indifference that was a lie. “I won’t come crawling back. And I’ll make sure to use you as an example. Both you and Sarabeth.”
With that, he spun on his heel and left Rusty’s office. His every good intention in this visit had backfired. But he’d emerged crystal clear on one thing.
He couldn’t count on his father to be there.
Couldn’t depend on Charlotte, either.
The only person who would never fail him was himself.
Fourteen
Charlotte sighed, sliding the key into the front door. Usually, Mondays were a slow night, but for some reason, it seemed as if every person in Royal had decided to drop by Sheen tonight. Jeremy had credited the unprecedented influx with her presence at the Soiree on the Bay fundraising event over the weekend as well as the samples of their dishes. Possibly. She’d shared his opinion with Ross when he’d brought Ben by the restaurant to see her, and he’d managed not to throw an “I told you so” at her.
She frowned, unlocking the door and twisting the knob. Actually, Ross had been distant and aloof tonight. Since Saturday, they’d formed a tenuous truce, but he’d reverted to being that cold, reserved man she’d met at Sheen weeks ago. A tight ball of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach and remained there for the rest of the evening like a pebble she couldn’t shake from her shoe. It had been a relief when the night ended, because she’d come to a decision sometime between preparing the sauce for her signature dish and plating dishes for a party of twelve—she needed to be honest with Ross.
She had to tell him that as hard as she’d tried, as angry as she’d been, she’d never stopped loving him.
Fear trickled through her as she entered the house. But intertwined with those dark tendrils was excitement, too. He’d been jealous, possessive on Saturday. And there was no denying he’d been hurt by her. That had to mean he feltsomethingmore for her than he would for a tolerable person to co-parent with... God, she hoped so. Because she’d been here before, three years ago. Uncertain. Scared. Hopeful.
Only to end up broken, devastated and alone.
Would she survive that kind of agony again?
Would she have to?
It was those two questions that had her wavering back and forth. She didn’t know if her heart could stand losing him again...but what if she didn’t lose him?
That damn hope. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Still, she couldn’t just continue to exist in this torturous limbo. Tonight, she’d have her answer. Tonight, she’d—
“Dammit.” She stumbled to a halt, her toe throbbing in protest at whatever she’d just stubbed it on. Frowning, she glanced down. “What the hell?” she murmured, spotting the set of black luggage in the foyer. The smallest of the two listed to the side from the kick she’d inadvertently delivered to it.
“Charlotte, I need to speak to you.”
She shifted her gaze from the suitcases to Ross, who stood just inside the entryway to the living room. It was a little after twelve, and most nights when she arrived home, worn jeans or loose-fitting sleep pants adorned his tall frame. But tonight, a dark gray suit had replaced the pajamas and T-shirt.
Her frown deepened. “Hey.” She set her bag and purse down on the table beside the door. “Did I forget you had a business trip or were headed out of town?”
“No,” he said, both his voice and face shuttered. That knot in her stomach pulled taut, and dread crept inside her, an unwelcome intruder. “Can we talk in here?”
He turned, but she didn’t move. “No,” she whispered. He halted and slowly pivoted back to face her, and she shook her head. “No,” she repeated, stronger, louder. “Whatever you have to say, we can do it right here. Especially since you’ll be leaving directly afterward, right?” His expression remained a mask of stone, but she caught the flicker in his eyes, and she let loose a low, jagged chuckle that abraded her throat. A heavy, suffocating weight settled on her chest, shortening her breath, causing an echo in her ears. She recognized this feeling. The forerunner of panic, of an onslaught of fear. But she shoved it back, focusing on the silent, brooding and cruelly beautiful man before her. “Let’s just get this over with so you have easy access to the door.”
“Fine.” He nodded, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his suit. How could he be so cold? So unfeeling when she was shattering into pieces? “I haven’t been honest with you. After a meeting with my financial advisor, I can’t afford to pay you the half-million dollars that I promised. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect you to hold up your end of our agreement when I can’t. Of course, you and Ben can continue to stay here—”
“Liar.”
