Page 93 of Fighting for Scarlett

“I know you'd never put me in danger,” she assured him. Until Raul was caught and the mole identified, she would continue to be in danger, but at least her name was cleared, and she had people she trusted watching her back.

“Never,” he agreed. “And I wasn’t trying to say I didn't want you here. Because if I didn't want you here, I wouldn’t have brought you here.”

There was so much anxiousness in the man she was used to seeing as sure, and confident, if a little arrogant and jerky for a while there, that it softened the edges of her own insecurities. “I know that, Tate. I wasn’t worried that you had left, I was at your place after all, I just … missed you,” she admitted. “I wish you’d been here when I woke up.”

“I wish I had been, too. But there was something I wanted to do for you, and I wanted it to be a surprise.”

That piqued her interest. “Oh yeah? What?” Surprises were great fun, but not something that was a big part of her life. As a kid, there hadn’t been many birthday or Christmas gifts, and what she and Zander got were never fun presents like toys, they were usually practical things like clothes, toiletries, and school supplies. And not fun clothes either, but practical jeans and T-shirts, and sensible sneakers.

“Well, you told me how much you love cooking, and you know that I don’t know how to make pretty much anything other than the basics. So, I went to a cooking class this morning,” Tate told her, somewhat nervously, like he wasn’t quite sure if she would think that was a good reason for him to disappear for a few hours.

“You took a cooking class?” she asked, thinking it was possibly the sweetest thing ever.

“You’ve been through a lot, and you’ve never really had anyone to take care of you, not in the way you should. I was looking up classes while you were sleeping, and I just took the first one I could find.”

“What was it?”

“Vegetable soup and bread. I know you already know how to make both but?—”

“But it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Scarlett said, cutting him off. No one had ever done something like that for her before, and for all the reasons Tate hadn't been there this morning when she woke up, this one had to be right up the top of the list. “Thank you.”

Now that he knew she wasn’t angry with him, Tate grinned and leaned down to press a kiss to her mouth. “I’m glad you're not mad. I have all the ingredients, why don’t you go take a bubble bath, relax, and I’ll get the soup cooking and the bread … proofing, and then I’ll whip us up some sandwiches for lunch.”

As nice as a bath might be, right now, she’d much rather hang out with Tate than go off and be on her own. She’d had more than enough alone time to last an entire lifetime. “Actually, I’d love to watch you cook,” she said with a grin. Sweet as it was that he’d gone and taken a cooking class just because cooking was something she enjoyed, and because he wanted to take care of her, she doubted he’d picked up many skills this quickly. Watching him in the kitchen was going to be highly amusing, she was sure of it.

Tate’s unusual eyes narrowed. “Do you think I'm going to make a fool of myself, Ms. Madden?”

She giggled. “Umm … no … of course not.”

“I think you do.” His lips nibbled at a sensitive spot on her neck, making her moan and arch into his touch. Kissing and nipping his way up her neck, his tongue touched a spot behind her ear that drew another moan from her, and then he kissed his way along her jaw. When his lips touched the corner of hers, a content sigh slipped out this time as she waited for his mouth to claim hers.

Only it didn't.

Instead, he stepped back and smirked. “Come on, my little fighter, let’s go give you some entertainment.”

“You're mean, you know that?” She pouted, but followed him into the kitchen anyway when he scooped up the bags and headed through the living room.

Tate laughed. A wonderful free sound she hadn't heard from him before. It warmed her heart, and she didn't even hear whatever it was he said because she was too busy feeling such a wonderful array of emotions.

Climbing onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar, she watched as Tate slipped on an apron and began to bustle around the kitchen. His movements were a little clunky and it was obvious that he didn't spend much time cooking. She could have chopped the vegetables in half the time, but she liked watching his large hands and muscled forearms as he worked. Who knew a shirt rolled up to the elbows, showcasing forearms was so sexy?

This was the future she wanted so badly.

Simple things like hanging out in the kitchen cooking. She wasn’t after anything extraordinary, she didn't need big gestures or expensive gifts. All she wanted was to be loved, to feel important to someone, and to know that no matter what happened, someone would always be there for her.

“I talked to Piper Hamilton-Eden,” she announced.

From the way Tate froze, his eyes lifting to meet hers, she knew he knew who Piper was. “To help you process what you went through?”

“In part. But I also had a lot of time to think while I was sitting in that prison cell, and I realized that I have issues from my childhood I want to address. I’ve been so desperate to be loved that I’ve tried to force relationships with anyone, just so I wouldn’t be alone.”

For a moment Tate looked stricken. “Are you trying to tell me that you're rethinking things between us?”

That shocked her enough that she jumped out of her seat and hurried around the counter to wrap her arms around his waist. “No. Not at all. I knew the second I met you that you were different. I’ve felt so unworthy and unlovable for so long, that I was prepared to pretend to be in love because it was easier than being alone. But with you … I can't even explain it. It’s so … big. So filling. All that emptiness is just gone when I'm with you. I had doubts about you at first, I couldn’t believe you would put your job on the line for me, but you did. You pushed to keep your team helping Prey with this situation when you didn't have to, and you're here with me now. I want what we have to be real, I want it to grow, and I hope it lasts a lifetime. For that to happen, I know I have to confront my feelings of unworthiness, and abandonment issues. I want to be my best, for you.”

“Sweetheart, you already are the best.”

“It’s sweet you say that,” she said, snuggling against him, resting her head against his chest where she could feel the steady beating of his heart. “But I don’t want to have doubts. I want to be able to love me for me. I don’t want to feel unworthy anymore. This is something I want to do, and I'm excited to do it.”

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