Page 39 of Sweet Surrender
He cleared his throat. “And we’ll start your self-defense lessons later this week too.”
She smiled, genuinely excited. She had a lot of rage and…tension to get out.
Chapter 11
Beau packed away the last set of dumbbells from his bodypump class, watching as the ladies filed out of the gym slowly, still shooting him sweaty, lingering smiles over their shoulders. He cleaned up and then locked the gym. Next he headed around the back of the house to meet the construction crew to get an update on how work was progressing on the swimming pool and sauna.
This was the precise reason he had bought this house. He needed the land that came with it so he could expand and build his own fitness center. He gazed around and pride bubbled in his chest for the first time in a long while as he could see his plans all coming together. He truly loved what he was creating here, more so than the last gym he owned in L.A. His classes and PT sessions were already a hit with the locals, and the elderly residents were loving the yoga and stretch classes to help with their aging joints. Business would only grow even more once the pool and sauna opened.
He said goodbye to the crew and headed into the house to grab some extra clothes, and if he was moving into Taylor’s place then he was definitely bringing his TV. He couldn’t believe she had accepted his demand to move in, let alone offered to share her bed. He wasn’t sure how he was going to find sleeping next to her each night, especially now they had laid down their arms, so to speak.
He felt like an even bigger ass after their therapy session. Demanding a kiss as his reward for carrying out this charade with her; he certainly wouldn’t hold her to it now. He had done it out of spite towards the person who hurt him the most in his entire life. But after that session with Justine, it turned out she hadn’t meant to do that at all, and his heart ached at the realization. He was consumed by shame at his behavior towards her, and not just from one but from multiple encounters. Add to that this new knowledge of what his actions had led to: her inability to bear her own children. Guilt twisted in his gut. He didn’t know if he would ever forgive himself.
When he’d cradled her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her like he had done so many times as a teenager, he’d felt something shift inside him. It was as if all the animosity had just left him, replaced by something else, something he couldn’t name.Sometimes our deepest hate stems from something else entirely…
He wasn’t sure how they would cope living together but he would do what he needed to and put aside his feelings to keep her safe. Though he couldn’t help but dwell on the words he discovered scrawled on her bathroom mirror. Was she saving all her kisses for someone? She made ‘no kissing’ one of their rules and even when he had tried to get her to kiss him, she refused. Did she not like kissing at all? He thought at the time that she was ignoring him or using the moment to snipe at him, and maybe she had. But was she also using it to avoid kissing him?
It wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before.She’d been his first kiss and if he was honest that was still the best kiss of his life, though it pained him to say it, given how much experience he had since then.He still dreamt about it; that kiss haunted him. So yeah, if he got the opportunity, he could admit he would go there again. But what was the big deal? Surely she had kissed loads of guys over the last fifteen years?
He shook his head and loaded up his car with his clothes and TV then grabbed some more protein powder. He was doing a final sweep of his house, checking he wasn’t forgetting anything when his phone pinged.
Taylor: Can you be at the cabin in an hour?
Beau: Sure, everything okay?
Taylor: Locksmith coming. Kayleigh’s sick, can’t leave.
Beau: No worries, I’ve got this.Thumbs up emoji.
He finished his final check, grabbing the last item he wanted and locked up. He headed back to the cabin and the locksmith arrived soon after. Beau positioned the new TV, putting Taylor’s old one in his cabin next door. While there, he emptied the place of his belongings as it might be a while before he was back. Once the locksmith was finished and gone, Beau began to unpack the rest of his stuff.
Taylor had made some space for him in her drawers, so he put his clothes away next to hers. She had even made an effort to tidy up, which he appreciated. Once he was finished, he lingered, looking around her room. He inspected the picture collages on her walls, ran his hands over the white veneer of her dressing table, felt the soft texture of her make up brushes, the weight of her perfume bottles.
He knew he was being intense, but he just couldn’t help it. He hated to admit it, but she still fascinated him like no one else. He had a burning desire to immerse himself in her life, to fill the void of all the years they’d missed. He needed to get to know her again. Eventually he snapped out of it, unpacked his toiletries and then grabbed the last thing he’d brought with him from home. He stood in her room and looked around for the best place to display it. He rearranged some of the scented candles on her dresser and slid the picture frame into place.
Riddled with anxiety over the picture frame, he watched TV until closing time at the bar when he went to fetch her. She stepped outside into the cool air, her whole body sagging, her expression one of complete exhaustion.
“Tough day?” he asked, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans as she looked up.
“Uh huh.”
“Was it busy?”
“Uh huh.”
Okay, noted, she’s too tired to talk.They walked back to the cabin in silence. When they went inside she trudged straight over to the couch, ignoring the giant TV or just not seeing it in her tiredness, and dropped down, letting the couch swallow her into its cozy cushions.
“The locksmith came, there’s only two keys for this lock now. Yours and mine,” he said, dangling both sets in the air.
“Uh huh,” she mumbled, her mouth covered by cushions and her eyes drifted closed. He smiled to himself.A tired Taylor is a docile Taylor, I need to remember that.She’d had a tough day before she even started her twelve-hour shift alone at the bar. She wouldn’t have eaten properly today so he padded into her modest kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. Her little snores soon reached him, and he smiled again, looking over his shoulder at her, her sassy mouth parted in slumber.
He found some instant mac and cheese then frowned. Her cupboards were pretty much empty except for strawberry milk powder and his protein powder, as was her fridge. She really didn’t have any food in and that just wasn’t going to work. He was Mr. Food Prep, no way could he live like this. He heated their dinner and set her little bistro dining table for two, clearing it of her crap first. He made her usual drink then went and shook her gently.
“Dinner’s ready,” he said softly, not wanting to startle her.
“It is?” Her tone was so hopeful that his chest hurt. He wondered how many proper meals she ate. It was no fun cooking just for one, he only did it because his diet required it.
Her jaw cracked with a huge yawn and she sat down at the table, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and he tried to ignore how freaking adorable she looked. He really did try, because it would do them no good if he noticed stuff like that too often.
