Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) (2 page)

“Marry you,” Graeme said, his voice
strained. He avoided her gaze. Looking everywhere but at her.

“Let me see that.” Delilah pried it from her shaking fingers.

Her heart burst into flame before plummeting into her stomach and burning a hole right through it. Her limbs trembled. This couldn’t be happening.

“He’s kidding around.” A half-sob, half-laugh hitched in her throat. “Isn’t he?”

“He’s not.” His blue gaze was steely and unwavering.

“What a cowardly bastard!” Delilah said.

“Delilah…” Marion trailed off. He was still her fiancé.

“Well, he is.”

Graeme stared at her with an apologetic look. Tears stung the back of her throat, burning her eyes. But still, there was some part of her that believed this might be a joke. A cruel joke.

“This is a mistake.”
She shook her head slowly, her nerves shattered. Every part of her broken inside.

“I’m afraid not,” Graeme said, his words hard and cold.

She searched his face for an unwritten explanation, anything that would tell her this was a mistake. Graeme’s expression, though, held nothing but remorse. And Delilah still held the crumpled note of her shattered dreams.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.
” Tears slipped down her face, ruining her perfect expensive make-up she had sat so patiently for at the boutique.

“That son of a bitch.” Delilah breathed the words
in a fierce whisper. She flung the bouquets and note on a nearby table, delicate petals scattering across the hard surface, and started for the door. “I’ll take care of him.”

“No.” Graeme caught her arm before she reached the door. “That will make things worse.”

“Worse than leaving Marion at the altar?” Delilah nearly shouted, her cheeks red with her anger. “I don’t think so. That bastard needs to pay for this.”

“Delilah—”
Her breath hitched on a broken sob. She wanted to tell her to stop, not to worry about it. What was done was done. But the words wouldn’t come.

“I’m sorry, Marion
.” Graeme reached for her, then seemed to think better of it and dropped his hand.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Delilah said. “That bastard—”

“Yes, he’s a bastard,” Graeme snapped. “But causing a scene in front of the entire congregation won’t solve anything, Delilah.”

Marion hiccupped. She brushed away the tears that continued to fall. “He’s right. How long have you known about this, Graeme?”

“He handed me the note when I got to the church today.”

She
picked up the paper and turned away from him, her heart fluttering hard as she blinked away the tears. “Graeme, you’re his best friend. Why is he doing this?”

“I don’t know.”

And how could he do this? Leave her this way? With hundreds of guests waiting beyond those doors to witness a wedding? To see them pledge their love for each other forever? That wasn’t going to happen now.

Rage flooded her and she turned on him, her dress swishing with her sudden movement. “You mean you don’t want to tell me.”

“Marion—” He reached for her again, only to have her slap away his hand.

“Get out!” She clutched the paper in her fist and threw it at him. The wad hit him square in the chest.

He continued to stand there looking forlorn, his hands in his pockets and making no move to exit. What did he expect from her? Was he waiting to see her shatter into a thousand pieces?

“You heard her.”

Delilah moved to stand between her and Graeme. They stared each other down until finally he turned and left the dressing room. Her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor and wept. Her best friend was at her side, hugging her close, trying to console her. But all Marion could think about was her perfect life with Ethan was shattered.

Chapter Two

Six Months Later

“Hello, Marion.”

Her heart tumbled at the sound of his voice
. She looked up from her book to confirm her suspicions. There he stood in front of her table at the Bonjour Café, looking at her with a small grin and the sun at his back. There he was—the average man with the average looks and the average size penis that did above-average things to her. Correction.
Had done
. Past tense. She had once thought Ethan handsome and charming, but the past few months had jaded that thought.

She swallow
ed hard, her throat suddenly dry, and pinched her lips together to keep them from quivering. Every instinct wanted her to flee but instead she stared him down. To maintain eye contact to prove to him he hadn’t hurt her as much as he really had. That he hadn’t sliced a knife through her heart. That he hadn’t nearly killed her that day in the church.

She never
expected him to cross her path again. Disbelief tingled in the center of her chest, threatening to open that old wound. Threatening to let her bleed out here on the table. She cleared her throat.

“Ethan,” she finally managed around the cotton on her tongue.
It took all her strength to maintain a civil tone. She had never wanted to speak to him, much less see him, again.

It pained
Marion to look at him. She’d come to despise and hate him over the last few months. She hated the way his dark brown hair ruffled in the breeze. She hated his chestnut brown eyes threatening to draw her back into his web of deceit. She hated his crisp white shirt open at the collar hinting at the muscular chest beneath.

“Mind if I join you?”
He reached for the metal chair and sat before she could say no. It scraped along the concrete. Like nails on a chalkboard, it grated on her nerves.

She
reached for her sweating water glass and took a swig. She put aside the book she’d been reading, crossed her legs, tucked her hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. How dare he show up at this sidewalk café on a sunny Saturday morning to ruin her brunch? Her disbelief quickly dissipated into anger. Her body tensed and she ground her teeth. Wasn’t it enough he’d ruined her life, now he had to ruin her breakfast?

“What do you want?” Her voice was low and controlled.

“I wanted to see how you were.” He leaned on his forearms, giving her a small smile as if they were old friends. As if they were catching up after years apart.

Small talk. She couldn’t stand the small talk.
And he knew it. He continued to give her that same grin. She hated that grin.

“Never better, thanks to you. I narrowly missed making the biggest mistake of my life.”

Their three-year relationship had been stormy and passionate. Not a day went by since he left she didn’t think about him for six long months. She had destroyed every photograph she found of him and the two of them. Cut them into small pieces or put them through the shredder.

Looking at him now, a wave
of relief washed over her. Relief she wasn’t married to him and she’d gotten out before it was two kids too late.

And d
espite her wish not to, her gaze made a beeline for his left hand and found the ring finger devoid of a gold band. A sense of satisfaction went through her, glad to see he hadn’t found anyone else because she knew in her mind no one would be as good as her.

“Now, now.” He flashed a grin, as if he thought she was kidding. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I am?”

“No,” she said, the word acid on her tongue. “Why should I?”

“I’m good, thanks,” he said without missing a beat.

Oh, yes. She hated him.

As the lump emerged in Marion’s throat, the waiter appeared, his white apron tied around his hips
, a wavering contrast to the black pants and shirt.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Baxter. May I take your order?”

Marion glanced up at the waiter with an imploring
help me
look. But his attention was focused on Ethan. He ordered coffee, orange juice and eggs Benedict then turned to her when the waiter disappeared. He leaned his forearm on the table again and gave her a thorough once over.

His gaze dropped down the length of her, paused at her breasts and then came back up to her face. He gave her a knowing grin. She couldn’t stop the shudder that went through her at that lascivious gaze.

“Get a good look because that’s all you’re going to get.”

His mouth still quirked in a grin. The bastard.
“And I have to say, Marion, you do look great. I’ve missed you.”

She clutched the napkin in her fist, trying to remain completely calm but her emotions
wanted to erupt. She bit her lip to keep from blurting out the questions she wanted to ask. How was it he had the
nerve
to sit there and look at her like that? To tell her how great she looked when only six months ago they were moments away from pledging forever?

“I haven’t missed you.
Do you have any idea how much cash my parents and I dropped on that wedding? Or how humiliating it was to tell people to go home because there wasn’t going to be a wedding?” She lost her control, unable to stop the words that came in a flood. And somehow, she didn’t care. He was a prick and he deserved to hurt as much as she had.

“I know I hurt you—”

“Suck it.”

His expression turned from cocky to one of the boy who lost his puppy. Good. She wanted to cause him as much pain as he caused her.

She couldn’t believe she would be forced to finish her brunch with the very man who walked out on her. Why hadn’t she thought to ask for the check? On second thought, she could drop the cash on the table and run. She stared at a half-eaten piece of bacon and held her breath, trying to keep the other half from coming back up.

“Did you come here to dredge it all up again? I’m over
it. I’m over you. In fact, I’m seeing someone.” Her breath caught. What in the devil made her tell that lie? “And it’s serious.” Another lie. “Very serious. In fact, we’re moving in together.”

Good God, Marion. Can you shut your damn mouth?
She clenched the napkin tighter, making her hand ache. What the hell was wrong with her?

He pursed his lips the way he did when he had nothing else to say. They formed a thin straight line making them all but disappear.
She forgot how much she detested that.

“I didn’t know…”
His words drifted away. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

She wanted to stand up and shout her triumph. She hoped her lie was as good as any punch in the gut.

“Of course you didn’t. How could you?” she snapped, feeling the rage bubble inside her. She reached for her handbag and clutched it under her arm. “You were busy with everything else in your life and made it very clear I wasn’t that important to you. Oh, and need we mention the woman I found you in bed with?”

And that was only a day
after
they were supposed to get married. She had gone to move her stuff out, thinking he’d be at work when she walked in on them. Again he was silent with that same pursed-lip look.

“I thought not,” she continued. “
You’re
the one who left
me
standing at the church in the big white dress. And by the way, since you’ve ruined my brunch, you can pay for it.” Her chair scraped against the pavement when she stood and she flung her napkin in the seat.

To her horror, he stood with her. “Marion, wait. I want you back
.”

“Too bad!” His face paled at her raised voice and she knew she attract
ed the attention of several other patrons. She also knew he hated outbursts of emotions in public and unnecessary attention being drawn to him. “You had your chance with me, buddy, and you blew it. You couldn’t even break off our wedding in person. Instead you had to send someone else to do your dirty work. No explanation, no nothing other than a little note. Did you write that yourself, or did you have someone else do it for you too?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking forlorn and defeated. His shoulders drooped, his gaze shifted downward. She
resisted the urge to slap him. When he didn’t respond, Marion took a step toward the sidewalk. He caught her arm, his damp hand like a vice grip on her bicep and she paused, staring into those chestnut brown eyes that seemed to challenge her.

She tensed her arm and
glanced down at his hand. “You can remove your hand now, or I’ll remove it for you. You have no right to touch me any longer.”

“Marion,
let me explain.”

Okay, so that’s the way this was going to go.
She tried to jerk her arm free but he held fast. “It’s too late for that.” That familiar burning in the back of throat signaled tears. She choked them back—he wasn’t worth any more of her tears.

“Is there a problem here?”

She turned from Ethan to see a man standing a few feet away on the sidewalk. Her savior had several inches over her five-foot-six height. His glittering green eyes signaled warning.

“No problem,” Ethan said.