The Debra Dilemma (The Lone Stars Book 4) (16 page)

“Of course, I’ll pay for whatever remodel you’d like.” Hell, he’d buy her a new condo or better yet, move her into the penthouse with him.

“I just might take you up on that.” She looked around. “It could have been worse.”

He wasn’t sure how, but since the Universe was out to get him, he wasn’t going to say that out loud.

“You should be furious. Why aren’t you?” He shook his head. She’d always surprised him and done exactly the opposite of what he’d expected.

“What good would it do? I’d still have to get a new kitchen.” She scooped up more foam with the curtain and shoveled it into the garbage. “Would it make you feel better if a screamed and yelled?”

“Yeah, a little bit.” It would make him feel a lot better.

“Too bad.” She shoved the curtain into the trash. “At work, I see the worst humanity has to offer. The other day a woman came to us after her husband had beaten her unconscious, because when she sharpened the pencils he likes to use for his crossword puzzles, she didn’t line them up exactly one inch apart on his desk. He stabbed her repeatedly in the arm with those pencils. Why she didn’t pick up the stapler or a cast iron frying pan and beat the crap out of him, I’m still dealing with, but this,” she waved to the mess of her kitchen, “is fixable. The pencil lady, I’m afraid, is not.”

“How do you do it?” He was in awe of her. Here she was standing in her ruined kitchen putting her life into prospective. One day, he hoped to be able to do that…he really wanted to be able to see things for what they really were – whether vitally important or just asinine.

“It has taken me a long time to figure out that life happens in the gray area between black and white. Nothing is simple and yet everything is simple. On a daily and sometimes hourly basis, Safe Place reminds me of what is important and what isn’t. My life, while it’s sometimes lonely, isn’t dangerous. I don’t live in fear, I don’t hate myself anymore, and I can stand on my own two feet. For me, nothing else matters.” She pointed to the ruined microwave. “This is an opportunity to fix something that I’ve hated for a long time.”

He was lonely too.

He liked this mellower version of the girl he remembered as being a worrier. “You’ve been through a lot, I can see how your perception would change.”

“My father was never physically abusive, but he was verbally and emotionally abusive. Every single day he chipped away at my self-esteem, and I let him. I allowed myself to be a victim. That’s why I love taking Krav Maga. It teaches you to never be a victim. You don’t back down, you take back what is yours and beat the crap out of anyone who tries to hurt you.”

“You’re a fighter. I saw that the first time I met you. Your father was convinced that you needed to go to boarding school, and you calmly stated your reasons for not going and then had statistics to back up your argument. He didn’t know what to do with all of the facts you hurled at him. He had no choice but to give in. You’ve always been a fighter.” He really liked this new version of Debra, still a fighter, but with a different focus.

A slow smile bloomed on her face. “I remember that discussion. I guess I did win.” Her whole body smiled. “Yeah, I am a fighter. I like that.”

Because he’d put that smile on her face, he felt like he could move a mountain all by himself.

“Knock, knock.” Sweet Louise called from the living room. “I smell fire. Is something burning?”

She ran into the kitchen. “Holy Mary Mother of God. What happened?”

The plastic cake holder in her hand dangled from side to side.

“I accidentally burned down her kitchen.” Warren did a lot of staring at the white travertine floor tiles. They were nice and still mostly white. There was a little bit of ash here and there, but none of them were burned so that was something.

“Excuse me?” Sweet Louise carefully placed the cake plate on the island. “You did what?”

“He microwaved a metal container.” Debra picked up a dishtowel and wiped up more ash and foam. “He did use the fire extinguisher though.”

Sweet Louise turned to him, and he knew he was about to get it. Now, here was one woman who didn’t forgive and forget easily. “So after you poisoned her, you fire bombed her house?”

It didn’t seem like a good time to bring up the Christmas tree so he kept his mouth shut.

“Hands down, this is the worse win-the-girl-back plan I’ve ever seen. What’s next? Are you planning to light her hair on fire just to see if it’s flammable? Or maybe you could throw her in the pool and hold her down just to see how long she can hold her breath?” Sweet Louise looked at him like he was the stupidest man alive.

Debra tossed her head back and laughed. “He isn’t trying to win me back, he feels guilty about AJ.”

In the very least, he owed Debra honesty. “Oh no, I’m trying to win you back. I just suck at it.”

Her mouth fell open and her eyes turned huge. Judging by the shock on her face, she truly had no idea that he still had feelings for her. For someone who thought of himself as a ladies’ man, he clearly needed to work on his dating skills. It appeared that she hadn’t realized that they were on a date.

“Yep, risking your life is his way of showing that he cares.” Sweet Louise went to the pantry and grabbed a mop. She walked over to Warren and handed it to him. “Get to work.”

He held his breath waiting for Debra’s reaction. This was the make-it-or-break-it moment of his future life.

Slowly Debra’s mouth closed and she looked him directly in the eye. “You do suck at this. You’d better step up your game because I deserve the best.”

He let the breath out slowly. Hell yes, she deserved the best and he loved that she wanted the best for herself. Now, if he could only stop messing up around her.

Warren wanted her back. Wow, Debra hadn’t seen that coming. While she’d occasionally fantasized about what it would be like to be one-half of Team Warren and Debra, she’d never really thought it would happen.

Fighting the childish urge to bite her fingernails, she opted to rub her index finger over her thumbnail a dozen times. It would have felt so good to chomp away at her left thumbnail, but the new Debra didn’t bite her nails. She glanced down at her hands. Her nails were perfectly polished coral, glittery half-moons. It would be a shame to mess them up. Instead she moved to rubbing her middle finger against her left thumbnail. Not quite as satisfying as biting, but it was better than nothing.

“So, it’s settled.” Sweet Louise rolled up from the sofa. “Dinner at Warren’s house.”

“I’m sorry. What?” When were they having dinner?

“Everyone’s already in route with the food. They were worried about you, and Summer didn’t want to make you come all the way to her house so we’re bringing dinner to you. We can’t have it here because it smells like the inside of a barbeque pit.” She held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I love me some barbeque, but I don’t want to smell like it.”

“Do you live close by?” She glanced over to Warren. She had a feeling that she’d missed more than one important detail.

“Upstairs.” Warren pointed to the ceiling. “The penthouse.”

“He bought it to be closer to you.” Sweet Louise’s tone suggested that it was the dumbest thing ever. “It’s creepy.”

“It’s romantic.” Warren countered.

“It’s cro-mantic.” Sweet Louise did the one eyebrow up thing.

“I can live with that.” He nodded, stood, and then offered his hand to help Debra up.

“What? Now?” She looked back at her ruined kitchen and made a mental list of what food she had on hand—nothing. “I don’t have anything to bring.”

She couldn’t show up at a dinner party with nothing. Even she, who’d never been to a dinner party, knew that.

Sweet Louise waved a hand dismissively. “You almost died and your kitchen was fire bombed. You definitely get a pass on bringing a covered dish. Between me, Summer and Grace, we have things covered.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Listen, between them, Sweet Louise, Summer, and Grace could run the world, so a dinner party is nothing.” He linked his fingers with hers and gently pulled her up from the sofa.

“Okay, but let me change.” She eyed the dark patches on her jeans left by ash and whatever flame putter-outter stuff had spurted out of the fire extinguisher.

Was she supposed to dress up?

Uncertainty crept up and reminded her of the pile of clothes she’d left on her bed yesterday when she’d fretted over lunch with Summer. Did this friend thing ever get any easier? Life had been so much simpler when everyone hated her. “It will just take me a minute.”

“Here, take my keys. I have a spare.” He took one key off and handed the rest to Sweet Louise. “We’ll be up in a minute.”

Debra went to her bedroom, walked into the bathroom, and through to the adjoining closet. What to wear?

She ripped off her red sweater and shucked out of her jeans. She left them right on the floor where she’d stepped out of them. Sweet Louise had been dressed up in a royal blue silk pantsuit, but then again, she was always dressed up.

After a minute or two, Debra decided on some black skinny jeans with a untucked green silk shirt. On a whim, she slid on some mile-high black heels left over from her floozy days, and an opera-length gold necklace that had belonged to her great grandmother.

She had a date with Warren…sort of.

On a whim, she swiped on some mascara and then some pinky-red lip gloss.

Taking a second or two to admire her image in the full-length mirror behind her closet door, she turned this way and that. She considered this version of herself…not quite soccer mom and not quite floozy. Then she smiled at her reflection and nodded. Yup, she liked this new version of herself.

With her fingers, she fluffed out her hair and headed to the living room.

She had a date with Warren and damned if her pulse hadn’t kicked up a notch. She rolled her eyes. She’d never thought of herself as a giddy ninth grader, but here she was going all giddy.

She stepped into the living room.

Warren’s mouth dropped open, he blinked twice, and then swallowed. “You’re beautiful.”

Her inner ninth grader giggled and jumped up and down. Thank goodness, that was her inner self and her outer self managed to stay calm.

“So you’re trying to win me back?” She hadn’t meant to say it, but once the cat was out of the bag…what could she do?

“Yes.” He put his hand in the small of her back and led her to the front door.

“What’s your plan?” She might as well find out what she was in for.

“Still working on it.” He opened the door for her. “I’m just grateful that you haven’t thrown me out.”

She grabbed the keyring that she always left on the table next to the front door. “The evening just started. Give me time.”

“I…um…I guess we don’t have to go up together.” Gently, he took the keys from her, locked her door, and handed them back to her.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m kidding. I’m willing to see where this goes.”

“Really? Even after today?” He sounded so grateful that it tore at her heart. Where was the confident man she’d known so well?

“Why not?” She took his proffered elbow. “Besides, if I cut you loose are you going to give up?”

“No.” There was the confidence that she remembered.

“Well then, it doesn’t look like I have any choice.” She didn’t like being a foregone conclusion, but she wanted for him to fight for her. He hadn’t fought for her before, and she realized that now she held that against him. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is.” He pushed the button to call the elevator.

“The penthouse…why?” Sure he was wealthy, but he’d never been the type to show off.

The elevator dinged and the doors rolled open.

“It was the only thing available and I wanted to be close to you. Sweet Louise threatened to have me arrested for stalking if I ever parked outside of your house again.” He held the door open for her and stepped in after her. From his trouser pocket, he produced a key, shoved it into the slot under the ‘PH’, turned it, and the elevator went up.

“You parked outside my house?” She ducked her chin watching him from under her lashes.

He stared at her for a full minute. “You still do the chin thing.”

Her hand went to her chin. “What chin thing?”

“Where you tuck it in close to your chest and look up at me with your eyes half closed. Love it…always have.” He wasn’t being charming, just simply stating a fact.

Her cheeks heated and she could feel the blush spreading from her cheeks down her neck and to her chest. Of all things…blushing…her? She hadn’t blushed in what…ten years, and now she’s blushed twice in two days? In fact, she’d done just about everything under the sun that should have made her blush, but at the mere mention of something as innocent as ducking her chin and looking at the man she loved—wait a minute—man she loved?

All of the blood rushed from her head like it was trying to get away from the very thought. She leaned against the elevator wall for support.

She loved Warren.

Why did that piss her off?

“Are you okay? You’re shaking.” He put an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

“I’m fine.” She let out a long, deep breath. Suddenly she didn’t trust herself or him for that matter. All love had ever gotten her was heartache. She wanted to believe that it would be different this time, but all in all, people rarely changed that much. Only in fiction did people recognize their wrongdoing and do a one-eighty.

“What’s wrong? You sound mad.” His hand rubbed up and down her spine.

“I just realized something about myself and I’m really disappointed in me.” Her heart wanted to believe that this time, Warren wouldn’t hurt her, but her mind wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Stop being so hard on yourself. Are you nervous about having dinner with some of the players you slept with?” He bit off the last two words like he wanted to chew them up and spit them out.

“I am now.” One more reason not to trust herself. Just when she’d thought she was getting her shit together, the Universe goes and adds more shit to the pile.

“Sorry. Clint, Devon, and Chord are great guys. They won’t care.” He growled out as he whole body tensed.