Hold on to Me (3 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth Naughton

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Against All Odds#2

BOOK: Hold on to Me
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“Wh-where is Shannon?” she managed, looking down at his chest so she didn’t have to see those gorgeous eyes. Eyes she knew were going to haunt her for a very long time.

“Spending the night with Julia. I want you all to myself.”

That was all she wanted too—him, all to herself. But she couldn’t have him. Not now. And oh God, Shannon wasn’t even here. Her eyes slid closed, and pain lanced through her chest.

“Hey,” he whispered, concern replacing the sexy timbre of his voice. “What’s wrong?”

Indecision roared while she fought back the tears. Maybe she should just tell him the truth. But if she did…she’d be putting him at so much risk.


The less you know, the better off you’ll be. Trust me
.”

How many times had Steve said that to her? Too many to count. She understood why he’d done that now, but it didn’t make what she had to do any easier.

Her stomach rolled, and that pain grew sharper.

Focus. Plan. Execute
.

She mentally repeated the words and pushed out of his arms. Words that had gotten her through the agony of leaving her old life behind. Words that had saved her after Steve’s death. Words she would depend on now. His brow dropped when she pulled away, but she ignored it and gathered her courage, pulling up every wall he’d worn down over the last six months.

Behind him, she spotted the table set for a romantic dinner for two, and noticed, for the first time, the delicious Italian scents in the air.

He’d cooked.
Shit.
The man never cooked.

She quickly looked away from his manly kitchen with its black granite counter and cherry cabinets and refocused on him. Then realized he’d shaved—something else he didn’t often like to do. His wavy hair had that sexy tousled look where she’d run her fingers through it, and he was barefoot.

Her walls started to crumble. Why the hell were his feet so damn sexy?

Focus. Plan. Execute
.

Right. She could do that. She straightened.

“Simone?” He reached for her hand, but she took a step back so he couldn’t touch her. If he touched her, like he’d done at the door, she’d never get through this. And she had to get it done and over with so she could get to Shannon.

“I’m leaving, Mitch.”

“What? You just got here.”

“I don’t just mean right now. I mean…I’m leaving San Francisco.”

Panic filled his eyes. Panic that was going to wear her down if she didn’t get out of fast.

“My dad isn’t doing well,” she lied. “Shannon and I are moving back to Connecticut.”

“Okay,” he said slowly.

Okay?
Her own panic slithered in.

He raked a hand through his hair, sending his already disheveled locks sticking out all over, and looked down at the floor. She could practically see the gears working in his brain, trying to figure out how they were going to make this work on opposite coasts.

His gaze lifted to hers, and he reached for her hand. Strong, steady, everything she wanted but couldn't lean on. “Tell me what you need me to do. I’m here for you.”

She didn’t want him to be there for her. Not now. Not when she knew what it could cost him.

She pulled her fingers from his and moved out of his reach once more. “I don’t want you to do anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“Simone—”

He stepped toward her, and she moved back again. “I’ve thought about this a lot, and this is the right decision for me and Shannon.”

“For Shannon? Look, I understand needing to be with your family if your dad’s sick. If my dad was in trouble, I’d be the first one on a plane to Seattle, but permanently uprooting Shannon isn’t the answer.”

“You don’t know what’s right for Shannon.”

He held up both hands to calm her down, and she knew her voice was starting to rise, but she couldn’t stop it. “I’d never tell you what’s best for Shannon, I’m just saying…there’s no reason to do something drastic. I can take some time off from work. We can all head to your parents’ place. Ryan can get someone to look after your house.”

“Mitch… No.”

Confusion swirled in his eyes. “Why not? Simone, talk to me. I’m here for you. What’s really going on?”

She stepped back when he moved toward her. Her mind spun. Sweat broke out all over her body. She couldn’t seem to think clearly. And she hated that he was pushing her toward doing something she didn’t want to do. Toward saying something she didn’t want to say.

“It’s not… I can’t…” She brushed both hands through her hair and dropped them. “I never wanted this. I told you I don’t do relationships. It’s too much responsibility.”

“Okay. Okay,” he said, holding up his hands again. “Just…relax for a minute. I’m not trying to push you. I’m just trying to help.”

But he wasn’t. Couldn’t he see that? She looked up at him. Saw the rolling emotions in his eyes. And in the silence between them, her heart broke. Just cracked and shattered at her feet, because she knew she wasn’t going to be able to make this break clean and easy like she wanted. She was going to have to hurt him to ensure he didn’t try to follow her.

“Mitch, I’m not changing my mind. Simone and I are leaving. I only came here tonight to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” he repeated in a low voice. “And you don’t care what I have to say about it?”

“No, I don’t. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

In the seconds that followed, she watched his eyes harden, his jaw clench, and his hand drop to his side as the reality of what she was saying finally sank in. “So that’s it. You’re leaving for good. No discussion.”

She swallowed hard and told herself this was the only way. “No. I mean, yes. No discussion.”

“All because your dad’s sick?” Disbelief flashed in his eyes. “I don’t get it. What’s
really
going on? This isn’t like you, Simone. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

There were a thousand things she wasn’t telling him, but he was better off not knowing.
Like a Band-Aid. Rip it off
.

“This is what’s going on.”

“Don’t lie to me. Just tell me the truth. You owe me that much.”

Every emotion she’d been fighting back slammed into her, forcing her voice higher and her nerves humming. “You want to know what’s really going on? Here it is. I had a husband, Mitch. I’m not looking for another. I should have ended this a long time ago because I knew you wanted more, only I didn’t because I was selfish. I liked being with you. But this last week I realized…it’s too much. I don’t want you to be Shannon’s father, I don’t want to play house, and I don’t want to have to worry about you when I make decisions. This situation…with my parents… It just reinforced this is the perfect time to end things before either of us gets any more involved in something that never should have started.”

His eyes narrowed. “So earlier, when you kissed me—”

“That was physical,” she said quickly, desperate now to get this over. “Physical between us has always been good. It’s just everything else that’s not working for me.”

Hurt flashed in his gorgeous green eyes. “Physical,” he repeated. “That didn’t feel like physical to me. That felt like a whole lot more.”

It felt like a whole lot more to her too, only she couldn’t tell him that now. She swallowed hard. Knowing there was one thing she could say that would end things for good. Only saying it…

Bile pushed up her throat.
Oh God

She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry but I just…”
Shit.
“I don’t…love you, Mitch, not the way you want me to.”

His face paled, and he took a big step back. Wiping one hand across his mouth, he rested the other on his hip and looked quickly away.

And in the silence, the pain of a thousand burning suns scorched through her, because the sick look rushing over his features wasn't one of just shock, it was pure and utter betrayal.

“Ouch,” he said after several seconds. “That hurt more than I expected. You, ah, sure know how to drop the gavel, Counselor. You should have been a judge.”

Pinpricks of heat stabbed at every inch of Simone’s body.
No, no, no. I lied. I take it back!
Thoughts spun out of control and mixed with emotions she hadn't expected to feel. She had to do something to make this better. She had to fix this before it was too late. She stepped toward him. “Mitch—”

“Don’t.” He moved back and held up a hand, this time to stop
her
from touching
him
. “I, ah, I get it. Loud and clear. You don’t have to say it more than once.”

A sob pushed up her throat. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had to tell him the truth. She didn’t care if it was breaking the rules or if it put her in more danger. Admitting she wasn’t who he thought didn't even compare to the pain of knowing he believed she didn’t love him.

“Mitch.” She’d been so careful not to say the words these past few months. Afraid of losing control, of giving up a part of herself. Now… Now she wished she’d said them a hundred times so he’d know she was lying. “Wait—”

He gripped a kitchen chair and moved behind it, putting it and the table between them so she couldn’t touch him. “You need to leave, Simone.”

She faltered, and panic spread through her. A desperate need to make him understand urged her forward. “Mitch—”

His head swiveled her way. He gripped the chair back with both hands, his knuckles turning white. But when his eyes locked on hers, she drew up short. Hard, cold, blazing eyes. Eyes she’d never seen before. “Are you deaf? I said get out!”

A buzzer went off in the kitchen, and Simone startled. It took several seconds to realize it was the timer on the oven.

Dinner. The romantic dinner he’d made for her was ready. He didn’t break eye contact, didn’t move to turn off the timer. In the silence between them, candlelight flickered off his hard jaw and chiseled face, and she realized she’d been wrong. She’d spent the last hour worrying what he’d think of her when he learned about her past. What she should have been afraid of was this. What it would feel like when he hated her.

A chill swept over her body, and heartache lanced through every cell. In a daze, she stepped back, then turned for the hallway, her pulse a roar in her ears that drowned out Van Morrison’s voice as he sang about crazy love.

Hand shaking, she found the doorknob and somehow managed to get outside. Cool air whooshed around her when she stepped onto the front porch. The door slammed at her back, and as the sound echoed in her ears, the dam finally broke. Every emotion she’d held back since Will’s call flooded in and knocked the wind right out of her body.

She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming and ran for her car. She’d done exactly what she’d planned when she’d left the airport. But she hadn’t expected it to burn like this.

A burn, she now knew, that would leave a scar she’d carry with her forever.

CHAPTER THREE

M
itch waited until the sound of Simone’s car faded into the darkness before he let go of the chair.

His body vibrated as if an electrical current ran through it. Crossing the room, he punched off the stereo so he didn’t have to listen to Van Morrison’s fucking voice anymore, then moved into the kitchen and flipped off the oven.

The special dinner he’d made forgotten, he grabbed a glass and the Jamison he kept above the stove. After walking into his living room, he poured a generous shot and downed it in one long gulp, then stared into the flickering flames of the fire.


I don’t love you
.”

Anger and stupidity whipped through him, so hot it singed every vein. He dropped the bottle on the coffee table, then hurled the tumbler toward the fireplace, a perfect pitch that shattered the glass against the bricks into a thousand pieces and did shit to calm the storm raging inside. Body still humming, he extinguished every candle he’d lit to set a romantic mood, flipped off the lights, and stalked upstairs to his bedroom.

Everywhere he looked, he saw Simone. Lying across his bed, smiling that sexy grin. Sitting on the counter in his bathroom, watching while he shaved. Perched on the window seat in his bedroom, wearing his favorite Mariner’s T-shirt and nothing else, her dark hair a sexy mess around her face, her lips swollen from his mouth, her eyes wicked and seductive as she crooked her index finger and tried to coax him to come her way.

Holy hell, he was such a moron. He’d been so head over heels in love with her, he’d completely ignored the signs. The way she refused to talk about the future. The way she wouldn’t discuss her feelings. The fact he’d had to argue like a freakin’ lawyer just to get her to leave Shannon with him for the week. And the kicker—the giant neon warning sign he should have clued in to long ago—the fact she’d never once told him she loved him.

His legs gave out, just dropped him on his ass on the carpet like a big ol’ wuss. And his chest cinched down so tight it stole his breath.

Holy shit.
This
was why he was still single. Because nothing in the world was worth the pain currently stabbing through every inch of his body.

The future rolled out in front of him like a long, unending carpet while he braced his hands on his knees and sat there for…he didn’t know how long…just trying to breathe. Not a future with a family of his own like he’d envisioned this morning, but him alone, as he’d been for years. Looking out for the only thing that mattered: himself.

He needed to get the hell out of San Francisco. He had to get away from the memories before he lost it for good.

Before he could change his mind, he pushed to his feet, crossed to his closet, and yanked out his bag. He didn’t pay attention to what he pulled from the hangers, just stuffed clothes inside, then went into his bathroom and gathered his toiletries. After throwing on his boots, he came back into the bedroom and bent to zip his bag. Something sharp poked into his hip.

Slowly, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring, then just stared at the shimmering diamond. Another wave of agony washed through him, but this one was quickly followed by a burst of anger at his own gullibility.

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