Authors: E. L. Todd
17
Thatcher and Nancy didn’t talk much on the way home. On the plane, he didn’t hold her hand or touch her. She didn’t reach for him, thinking about Derek the entire time. She didn’t call Derek or question him about it. She would wait until she saw him in person.
When they landed, Thatcher turned to her. “Is Derek picking you up?”
“No.”
“Can I take you home?”
“Please.”
They got in the car and drove to her house. She was surprised that he knew exactly where she lived.
“How did you know that?”
“I know your dad. We have the same lawyers.”
“Lawyers?”
“For tax purposes and contracts.”
She didn’t get out of the truck even though he was in the driveway.
Thatcher grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
“I know,” she whispered.
He leaned toward her, moving his fingers through her hair.
“I wish I was wrong, Nancy.”
“I know that too.”
“Will you allow me to break my word to you?”
“What?”
“Please let me kiss you.” He looked at her forehead. “Here.”
She nodded.
He leaned in and pressed his warm lips against her forehead, letting them stay there for a long moment. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his touch. When he broke apart, she didn’t want him to go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Thank you for taking me.”
“Thank you for coming with me.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
She got out of the truck then carried her bags to her car. She threw everything in the trunk then got inside. After she started the engine, Thatcher drove away. She wasn’t planning on going inside her house. The only place she wanted to go was Derek’s.
She drove there with the music off, too upset to concentrate on anything. She didn’t remember the drive. When she arrived, she didn’t know where the time had gone. She pulled out her phone and called him.
“Baby?”
“I’m outside,” she said quietly.
“Is everything okay?”
“Just come outside.” She hung up then got out, waiting in the yard for him.
He came outside, wearing shorts and a t-shirt. His eyes were wide with fright. When he reached her, he extended his hands, but she stepped back.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“This can go down in two different ways. If you lie to me, you not only lose me as your girlfriend, but you lose me as your friend. I’ll never forgive you or speak to ever again. If you don’t lie to me, you still lose me as your girlfriend but you get to keep our friendship. The decision is yours.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you cheat on me that night of the surf competition?”
He stared at her, his shoulder
s tensing. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. His silence rang in the air.
“Derek?”
“Baby, I’ve changed so much.”
She covered her face with her hands and felt the tears fall.
“Please don’t leave me,” he said as he grabbed her waist. “Please. I was an asshole then but I’m different now. I’ve changed. I regret everything that happened. I know you believe me.”
She pushed him as hard as she could,
sending him to the ground. “I can’t believe you lied to me! I thought you were my best friend.”
He got to his feet. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
She slapped him across the face. “After all the shit I forgave you for, I could have forgiven you for that if you were honest with me. But I can never be with a liar. That trust is gone forever, Derek. We’re done.”
Tears fell down his face. “Nancy, please. We’re doing so
good. I’ve changed so much. I—I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“I can’t believe you just said that! Fuck you, Derek.”
“I mean it!”
“No, you don’t. I can’t believ
e anything you say. I can deal with a cheater and an asshole, but I can’t deal with a liar. Go fuck yourself.” She turned to walk away but he grabbed her. She twisted his arm and pushed him back. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
He stepped back. “Please give me another chance.”
“No.”
“Please!”
She climbed into her car then drove away, leaving him standing in the front yard, tears falling down his face. She passed the speed limit as she drove back to her house, tears pouring down her face. She was sick of being treated like shit. She didn’t deserve it.
When she came back home, she stormed in the house, still sobbing.
“Kiddo?” her dad asked, surprise on his face.
She totally forgot about him. He was never home on the weekends, and today he decided to show up. Talk about bad luck.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“
DON’T ACT LIKE YOU GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ME!”
He dropped his suitcase on the ground, shocked by her outburst.
“You have no right to ask me what’s wrong! You don’t care about me, you don’t love me, so cut the shit. You’re a fucking greedy asshole. Fuck you.” She turned and stormed out of the house, her dad following behind her.
“Nancy, stop!”
She slammed the door in his face then jumped in her car, hauling ass. She drove down the road, not sure where she was going or what she was going to do. She wanted to call Sydney and crash there, but now that Sydney was married, Nancy felt uncomfortable intruding on her life like that. She thought of Henry, but he was sleeping with Ren, equally encumbered. Without thinking, she drove to Thatcher’s house and parked outside.
After she stopped crying, she called him.
He answered on the first ring like he was expecting her. “Hey.”
“Can I stay with you tonight?” She heard the sound of the stairs as he headed toward the front door.
“Are you outside?”
“Yeah.”
“Come in.”
She hung up then walked to the front door. When she reached
it, he opened it, wearing sweats and an old t-shirt. “I’m sorry. I have nowhere else to go. I don’t want to bother you.”
He stared at her, sadness in his eyes. He kneeled down and picked her up, closing the door with this foot then carried her upstairs. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he carried her, trying to crawl inside him so she would never feel pain again.
He walked into his bedroom and placed her on the bed. “You’re always welcome here, Nancy.” He opened his drawers and pulled out clothes before he set them on the bed. “I’ll give you a minute to change.” He closed the bedroom door.
She grabbed the clothes and smelled th
em, recognizing his scent. Then she changed and crawled into bed, clutching a pillow. He returned a few minutes later and slid into bed beside her. She moved to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. Thatcher ran his fingers through her hair and down her back.
“You were right,” she whispered.
“I didn’t want to be. Honestly.”
“When I went home my dad was there, even on a Sunday. When he asked why I was crying, I flipped out and yelled at him, screamed. I stormed out. Now I can’t go back there. Sydney is married and I don’t want to bother her. Henry is practically married. I have no one in my life to count on. I only have myself.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes and tried not to cry.
His hands continued to rub her everywhere. Thatcher pulled her to his chest and brushed her hair with his lips, breathing into her ear. Now that she with him, she felt a little better. His hands calmed her mind and stilled the tears that dripped behind her eyes.
“I
’ll look for an apartment tomorrow.”
“You’re welcome to stay with me until you get on your feet.”
“No, it’s okay. I should get it figured out by tomorrow.”
“I have a truck. I don’t mind helping you move.”
“Thank you. I can’t ask my friends because I don’t want them to know where I live.”
“I figured,” he said. “But I do have an extra bedroom. You can share my office with me.”
“No, Thatcher. But thank you.”
“The offer stands whenever you want it.”
“You’re the coolest boss ever.”
He smiled. “That’s what happens when the boss falls in love with his employee.”
She stilled. “You’re in love with me?”
“You didn’t catch that?”
“It’s just hard to believe.”
“I don’t see why.” He buried his face in her neck and held her close. “I know you’re in love with me too.”
18
When Nancy opened her eyes the next morning, Thatcher was staring at her. His hand was tangled in her hair, lightly touching her. She released a deep breath and moved slightly, inching closer to him. His hand moved to her waist then under her shirt, resting on her small stomach. His thumb rubbed her gently, feeling warm against her skin.
“How did you sleep?” she whispered.
“Better than I have in a long time.”
“I’m glad. I hope I had something to do with that.”
Nancy rested her hand on his arm. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”
“You can take the day off if you want. I can manage without you.”
“Thank you. I need to move my things.”
“I can give you a pay advance so you can get your apartment.”
“I have money saved.”
“Okay.”
She moved closer to him, her face close to his. Being next to him made her feel better, safe. He took a deep breath when she came close to him, like he was caught off guard or excited.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
She rested her hand on his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt.
“I want to ask you something.”
“Yeah?”
she asked.
“Can I change my promise?”
“Change it?”
“Can I kiss your forehead whenever I want?”
“I like it when you do that.”
He smiled then leaned toward her head, kissing her gently. “I like doing it too.”
“I don’t want to get up and face the day,” she said with a sigh.
“Don’t you have school?”
“I’m not going.”
“Now that you’re going to be a famous artist, you should just drop out.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
“That sounds tempting.”
“Nothing in life is guaranteed, but I’m certain about this one.”
She was speechless. “You’ve done so much for me, Thatcher.”
“No, you did it all. I didn’t paint those works of art. That was all you.”
She sat up and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“You want brunch?”
“Brunch? What time is it?”
“Eleven.”
She sighed. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”
He touched her waist. “It’s okay.”
“I have so much to do today.”
“It’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”
They walked into the kitchen and Thatcher made breakfast. He was quick and efficient. He made the waffles while he cooked the eggs and bacon, working all three pans at the same time.
“You’re good at that,” she said while she drank her coffee.
“Thank you. My mom was impressed too.” He set the plates on the table and they ate quietly. She loved wearing his clothes because they were so comfortable. And she loved the smell. Thatcher ate his food slowly, chewing each bite more than necessary.
“You’re cute,” she whispered.
“I’m cute?”
“You eat so
slow.”
He laughed. “I’ve been teased for that my whole life.”
“Why do you eat like that?”
He shrugged. “It’s just how I am.”
When she was done, she washed the dishes in his sink.
He came next to her. “What are you doing?”
“The dishes.”
“You’re my guest. Don’t worry about it.”
“You cook and I clean.”
“We can do it together.”
“Okay.”
After she changed and got ready, they drov
e to her house and parked outside. Thatcher backed his trunk in the driveway so it would be easier to transport the furniture.
Her father wasn’t home like she expected so they went into her room and moved her belongings. Thatcher carried the heavy things without any problem
s. He moved her dresser and her bed without hitting the walls or denting his truck.
Nancy packed her glasses
, clothes, and art supplies then placed them in the back of his truck. When she looked at the pile, she realized her possessions were pathetic. She didn’t have much of anything.
Her father’s Lamborghini pulled into the driveway, and Nancy’s heart fell at the sight. She wasn’t expecting him to come home in the middle of the day on a Monday. She wondered if he had used the silent alarm to figure out when she returned. Her father didn’t love her, but he predicted her behavior accurately. He parked his car in front of Thatcher’s trunk, closing him in. Thatcher looked at Nancy, silently asking what she wanted him to do.
Her father walked up, unbuttoning the front of his jacket as he moved. “What’s going on?”
She took a deep breath and kept her back straight. “I’m moving.”
“You’re moving?”
“Yes. Please move your car.”
“And where are you moving?”
“An apartment.”
“You’re so ungrateful. I give you everything and you don’t give a damn.”
Thatcher stepped away, trying to give them some privacy.
“I don’t care if you think I’m ungrateful,” Nancy said. “You don’t give me what I need.”
“I pay for you
r education, buy you food, give you a place to live.”
“Well, I don’t need that anymore so what’s left? What do you have to offer me?”
He stared at her, his eyes glistening with menace.
“I need a father, someone who loves me, not buys me things and holds it over my head every day. Now that the money is gone and I don’t need you anymore, what’s left? You don’t care about me, ask me about my day. You didn’t care about the painting I drew. You don’t eat dinner with me. You didn’t show up to my art show. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, your car, your money, and your stupid bimbos.”
“What art show?”
“I told you about it the night before
the event. You said you would be there.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. It slipped my mind.”
“Or you weren’t listening to begin with. Now move your car so I can get out of your life for good. You can entertain your girls here. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, not that you ever did.”
He placed his suitcase on the ground then looked at her. “I’m sorry. What do you want me to say?”
“That’s the worst apology I’ve ever heard. Don’t say something unless you mean it. It dilutes the purpose. Let’s be real here. You don’t love me, you don’t even like me. Let me leave and we’ll just forget about each other.”
“Kiddo, of course I love you.”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” she said. “Now get the fuck out of the way.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Or what? You’re going to cut me off?” She rolled her eyes. “You know what I miss? I miss when we lived in that beat up shack and we barely had enough food. You were my best friend and we did everything together. After you started the hotel, you became a different person. You used to fingerpaint with me, saying I could be an artist if I wanted to. You believed in me, told me to chase my dreams. But I bet you don’t even remember that. All you care about is ripping off your employees, making more money, and having your fancy cars. Now get the hell out of my life. You were never in it.”
He stared at her then looked down at the ground, his hands on his hips. She marched to him then grabbed the
keys from his hand then advanced to the car.
“What are you doing?”
he asked.
“What? Are you afraid I’ll wreck it?” She got inside then pulled forward, getting it out of the way. She came back and threw the keys at his feet. “Have a good life, Dad. Let’s go, Thatcher.”
Thatcher stepped forward and nodded to her father before he got into the car then drove away, heading back to his place. She said nothing on the drive, looking out the window so he couldn’t see her tears.
He reached over and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her skin. She didn’t look at him, focusing her gaze out the window. When she sniffed, he pulled his hand away then rested it on the back of her neck, massaging her gently. The touch immediately reminded her of the way Coen to
uched Sydney, the intimate embrace that was both possessive and gentle.
They came back to his house with her luggage in tow. They walked back inside and she went into his bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Thatcher respected her privacy and left her alone. She felt like she would fall apart any moment and she needed a moment to collect
herself. When she came out a few moments later, he was sitting at the kitchen table, his laptop on the surface along with a cup of coffee.
He looked at her then patted the seat next to him. “I found a few places.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
She sat next to him and he dropped his arm over her shoulders.
“These two apartments are close to work and affordable. I found a few closer to the university, but those aren’t in the best area. I found a few houses you can rent. They are more expensive but you should be able to afford it on your new salary.”
“Thank you,” she said as she looked at him.
He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.
“Of course.”
“I’ll check out these apartments.”
“Okay.”
She picked up her phone and made the call. Luckily, she was able to see it today. “I’ll be back.”
“Are you going to check it out?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No,” she said quickly. “You’ve taken so much time out of your day already.”
“Don’t worry about it. I want to come.”
“Okay.” She was happy he was coming. She was scared to do this on her own and she was grateful he was willing to help her so much.
They went to the apartment, which had two bedrooms with an expansive living room. There was a patio where she could paint.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
He looked around, checking every faucet, the ventilation system, and the toilets. “It’s good.”
“I’ll get it
, then.”
She went down to the office and paid for the first month plus her deposit. After she got the keys, she and Thatcher spent the afternoon moving her things. He brought her small bed into the bedroom then assembled it and arranged h
er dressers. She took care of the smaller boxes and unpacked everything. By the evening, they were both tired.
“Thank you so much for helping me,” she said when they sat in the living room.
He placed his hand on her thigh. “No problem.”
She blinked her eyes, feeling the emotion flood her body. “I don’t have anyone else.”
“That isn’t true,” he whispered.
“Yes, it is. You’re the first person who’s—taken care of me.”
“I know your friends would be here in a heartbeat. You’re just afraid to show them who you really are. I can guarantee that they wouldn’t treat you any different.”
“You think?”
“I know,” he said as he ran his fingers through her hair.
“Maybe.”
He stared at her, seeing the moisture behind her eyes.