Page 31 of Damned
Chapter Fifteen
Bree knew he was waiting for her to say something. Kruze was intelligent and perceptive. She meant to start small. Digging for details like the journalist she was, anything he might want to share would be a good start. Even if it was insignificant. She wasn’t planning to write a story about him, though. If she were, she’d have told him up front. She’d be totally honest. Because somehow, between her breakdown and him sharing his secret, she felt closer to him tonight than she’d ever felt before.
“So tell me about that mother of yours,” she murmured, her eyes on the chest hairs her fingers had discovered behind his top two buttons.
“Nothing much to tell. Scarlett Sinclair was a best-selling romance author and the best mom of all time.”
Bree’s eyes jerked up to his face. “She’syour mom?TheScarlett Sinclair? Oh, my gosh! I’ve read her works. All of them. She’s brilliant. You’re one of the three boys she mentions in the backmatter of her books?”
He nodded, still not smiling. “Don’t believe everything you read. Mom liked to brag.”
“I can’t believe I never made the connection. I should have, you look just like her.” Bree reached a hand to Kruze’s head and let her fingers comb through his dark black hair, the feel of it silky, lush, and cool. He’d trimmed the sides close but left the top longer. “You have her eyes and her hair color. Wow. Tell me about her. What was living with a famous mother like?”
Kruze shrugged. “If you’ve read her books, you already know everything. Single mom. Patriotic as all get out. Worked her ass off to make top ten in the country, then worked harder to make sure us boys knew life wasn’t meant to be easy.”
“That’s where you get your work ethic.”
“Maybe, yeah. I just know we had chores to do every day after school, and Mom didn’t believe in buying us boys cars just because we graduated high school. She co-signed our first loans, sure, but we had to have jobs by then, make car payments and pay insurance. He ran his hand through his hair. “And God bless us when we got speeding tickets. What about your parents?”
Bree relaxed listening to Kruze reminisce. “They’re the best. They adore me, and they’re always there whenever I need a babysitter or… or…”Oh, shit.Her mouth went dry. What had she done?
Kruze cocked his head. “I didn’t know you had kids. You were married?”
She shook her head as her noisy heart climbed back up her throat. “No, I’m—”
And suddenly, Bree was sitting alone on the passenger side of that bench seat. Kruze had his hands to himself and his back against the driver’s door. His eyes had gone dark. His brows were narrowed into an angry V, and the laugh lines bracketing his eyes were razor-sharp. “You’re married now? What the fuck!”
Bree raked her fingers through her ponytail, tempted to tear it out. “No, no, it’s not like that. It’s… it’s different.” She stalled. Different how? Keep lying? Come clean? Scare the life out of the man she’d finally gotten close enough to, that he trusted her with his truth? Destroy the trust she’d just earned with the lie she still kept? Kruze had shared the worst pain in his life. He’d broken down in her arms. He’d cried. What was she waiting for? But could she set Robin up like that? For heartbreak? Better Kruze than Robin, but…
Oh, sweet Lord.Bree sucked in a belly full of air, puffed her cheeks and blew it out, not sure she should tell him anything. And yet…
His fingers were tight on the door handle. His hair had flipped down into his eyes and he was angry. Livid. She’d lied to him, and he was leaving. Bree couldn’t blame him. Blowing out another breath, she started at the beginning. “Do you remember that night in Paris at all?”
Kruze blinked, his lashes slamming up and down like the shutters inside Navy signal lamps. Distress flashed with every blink. He swallowed hard, as if he couldn’t get his throat muscles to work. Raking his fingers through his hair, he pushed it back, staring her down. Daring her to keep talking.
“I was younger and prettier then.” She fingered her lifeless ponytail. “Maybe even a little overweight. My hair was red. Not carrot or ginger. More rust with red highlights. That’s my natural color. It was short and curly. You liked it. You told me so.”
His chest heaved, as if there weren’t enough air inside the car ad he couldn’t breathe. He was still trying to connect the dots between the woman he’d known in Paris and the disaster he’d rescued in Turkey. Between the carefree woman she’d been that magical night in France and the lackluster loser he was looking at now. At last, Kruze’s face scrunched with wrinkles. He licked the thin line of his bottom lip and whispered, “You’re her?”
He’d remembered. Good. But he didn’t yet believe.
Bree nodded, frantic to tell her side of the story before he launched out of the car, and she never saw him again. “I thought you loved me in Paris. I fell so darned hard for you.”
“I… I…” He shook his head, as if there were something in it that hurt.
So much anguish flickered across his handsome face that Bree wanted to throw up. She’d done this to him. She’d hurt him and she’d done it intentionally. Instead, she stiffened her spine and spilled her heart the same way he’d just spilled his.
“Kruze, honey, we made love like a couple of rabbits that night, and I adored every second being with you, and every single thing we did. I’m sorry but…” Now Bree needed more air, too. Swallowing hard, she finished with, “Only I’m not sorry, not one bit, and no, I’m not married, and I’ve never been married, because… b-because I…”Because I don’t want anyone but you. I’m stupid that way.
Bree pressed her palm to her chest to stop the relentless banging behind her breastbone. My Lord, her heart felt like it was going to explode. Drawing in another deep breath, she finally said the words she should’ve said years ago. “Because I’ve never stopped thinking of you, damn it. We made a baby that night, Kruze. You and me” —she toggled her index finger between herself and him— “and we have a daughter. I know we used condoms, but things still happened, and she’s beautiful, and if you hurt her…!” Tears burst from Bree’s eyes at the foolish threat she just leveled at the poor man who’d had no idea he’d fathered a child.
Poor Kruze hadn’t done a thing yet. He hadn’t left, hadn’t cursed, just looked so damned confused and stunned. He’d been blindsided, and that was on Bree. She inched closer until she could touch his knee.
The second her fingertips made contact with denim, he brushed them off. Okay, that was an acceptable response. Kruze was in shock, and she was wrong to think he’d forgive her so quickly. Or ever. He needed distance and time to think. This revelation might be one of those things he’d never forgive her for. Why should he? At least, he hadn’t left.
“I know you’re upset, but—”
“Quiet!” he hissed, his finger sternly in her face. “Stop talking. Just… Shush!”
