If she let him in for even one night, her first line of defenses would be burned to ash by morning. If she let him haveeverynight, she’d soon be naked before him in a way that had nothing to do with shedding clothes. And then he would see the scars, the shame, and the bruises on her soul that might never heal. He would see that she was damaged. And though she suspected Robert shared her taste for a little kink in the bedroom, she doubted he would relish coming face to face with the destruction another man had left behind.
Maybe if the other important people in her life had stood behind her, she would have healed by now, or at least learned to hold her head high and find strength in surviving betrayal, but they hadn’t. They had thrown stones, inflicting a new set of wounds before the first round had a chance to heal. The shame that should have evaporated over time had instead soaked deep into her bones, poisoning her from the inside out. She would never be the same. She would never be that girl who had fallen in no-holds-barred love with a man again, and she’d been a fool to think for even a second that she had it in her to trust anyone that way. Even Robert.
Especially not Robert. She wanted him too much, and she didn’t need a private session with her Buddha-quoting yoga teacher to tell her that wanting anything that much was giving despair a hand-written invitation into your life.
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice trembling as she twisted free of his arms. “I can’t.”
“Marisol, wait,” he said, capturing her hand before she could make a run for the truck.
“Please!” Panic coursed through her as she tried to pull away, only for Robert to tighten his hold. He had to let her go, before it was too late, before she fell to pieces and he saw the ugliness behind her carefully erected shields.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I swear, I—”
“Then let me go,” she said, giving her arm another tug.
“Marisol, please,” he said, his voice as gentle as his grip was unrelenting. “I don’t know who or what made you so scared, but I—”
“Let me go, Robert, or I’m going to scream.” Her throat was so tight she wasn’t sure she could get a scream out, but she would try. She would do whatever it took to get some distance from this man before it was too late.
Robert released her with a harsh sigh; a second later she was power-walking down the sidewalk away from him.
She aimed her body toward where she’d parked near Lavender and Lace, realizing only after she was halfway down the block that she’d left the keys to the truck at Mia’s shop, along with her purse and laptop. She had her cell phone, driver’s license, and a couple of twenty dollar bills in her back pocket, but everything else was locked inside Lavender and Lace, where Mia had promised it would be safe until they were done for the night.
Marisol had no way of getting the keys to the truck without calling Robert’s best friend and explaining why she’d bailed on the rest of their night out, and she wasn’t sure where she would go even if the keys were in her hand. She couldn’t go back to the Lawson ranch and wait for Robert to come home, and she couldn’t drive back to Austin, leaving him stranded. Even if he wasn’t her client, that wasn’t the kind of thing you did to a friend who’d brought you home for the week.
Client. Friend. A whisper away from becoming her lover…
She didn’t know how the lines had gotten so blurred in just a few days, but by the time she turned the corner at the end of the street, her panic had faded and a new fear had settled in her chest.
She’d put a stop to things before it was too late for her heart, but what about her bottom line? She had other clients, but none of them were anywhere close to breaking out. She was counting on her fifteen percent from Robert’s ever-more-successful career to pay the bills for the rest of the year. She had savings, but not enough to hold her over while she started from scratch with another artist.
She couldn’t afford to let him go, and she didn’t know how to move forward from here. They’d both pretended the kiss two days ago had been a performance, nothing more, but after tonight there was no mistaking what they both wanted, or how much they wanted it.
God, why had she allowed things to become so complicated? Even after two years of celibacy, she should have had the strength to realize indulging her sexual attraction wasn’t worth losing the most promising client she’d ever signed.
But even as she cursed herself for being an idiot with more hormones than sense, a part of her knew she wasn’t being completely honest with herself. It was more than lust she felt when she was in Robert’s arms. She wanted him to spank her and tease her and all those other delicious things he’d promised, but she also wanted him to hold her after. She wanted to lay her head on his strong chest and confess that she admired so many things about him. She wanted to fall asleep next to him, believing it was okay to care about the man beside her, and wake up caring a little more. A little more and a little more, until fear became faith, and she could believe she was capable of loving and being loved, after all.
And that was the most terrifying thing about Robert. He made her want to hope, to reach out and see if the wonderful thing hovering just out of reach might stay put long enough for her to lay hands on it.
But she hadn’t reached out, she had run away and now she didn’t know what she was going to do.
Marisol slowed her power walk and leaned against the brick wall of the dentist’s office down the street from the hotel with a heavy sigh. She would like to say this was the first time she’d found herself locked out and at loose ends, but it wasn’t. That was the thing about running away. “Away” was not a destination. “Away” only took you further from something you feared, it didn’t get you any closer to where you wanted to be.
She didn’t know where she wanted to be, but the sun would be setting soon, she didn’t have enough money for a hotel room, and she couldn’t sleep on the streets of Lonesome Point. The few homeless people she’d seen had seemed nice enough, but she didn’t want to add body lice to her list of issues.
Swallowing her pride, she pulled out her cell and dialed her most recently added contact. She and Mia had already been in contact via email, but Marisol was still surprised by how immediately they’d hit it off this morning. She had her share of girlfriends, but she’d rarely felt so comfortable with another woman right off the bat.
Hopefully, Mia had felt the same way and wouldn’t be freaked out by Marisol’s unexpected request.
“Hey, where are you guys?” Mia asked by way of greeting. “Sawyer’s already devoured an entire basket of chips. If you don’t get here soon, there might not be any left in the entire restaurant.”
“Sorry,” Marisol said. “I’m not feeling well, and thought I’d better cut out.”
“I’m sorry,” Mia said, sympathy replacing the teasing note in her tone. “Do you need anything? I’ve got antacid and pain relievers in my bathroom cabinet. I can meet you back at the shop. Or you can just let yourself in, if you want. There’s a key duct-taped to the bottom of the dumpster out back.”
“That’s actually why I was calling,” Marisol said, deciding to take Mia’s offer as a sign. “I don’t know if I’m up to driving right now. Would it be okay for me to crash at your place tonight? I can sleep on the couch or—”
“Don’t be silly, take the bed in the guest room. It already has fresh sheets on it and everything. I changed them after Clementine and Tulsi slept over last week.”