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“I got it with a little cream and a little sugar,” Marshall explained. “I didn’t know how you would like it.”
“This is fine.” She stepped toward the front door. “I don’t want to rush you, but if you’re ready to leave...”
“Sure.”
Tamara stepped out the door, which was almost flush with the ground, then waited for Marshall to join her. “Hold this for me?” he asked, offering her the bag with the sandwiches and the coffee tray.
Tamara took the items while he closed the door. She checked out the breadth of his shoulders, clad in a T-shirt this morning, and she noted that he was just as sexy in casual wear as he had been in his suit yesterday.
He turned to face her, and she quickly averted her eyes.
He took the coffee and bag from her and then started toward the car with an easy and sexy gait. Tamara followed him to the sleek, black BMW. She didn’t remember being in it last night, but she must have been.
What else had she done?
Marshall opened the passenger door for her, then went around and got in on the driver’s side. Tamara was about to get into the car when she saw a cushion on the seat covered with blond hair.
“What?” Marshall asked, looking up at her.
“Is that dog hair?”
Marshall grabbed the cushion and tossed it into the backseat. “Sorry, yeah.”
Tamara looked around anxiously, half expecting some giant fur ball to be lunging toward her. “You have a dog?”
“It’s a buddy’s dog. He’s gone for the weekend, asked me to check in on him. So I picked Sherlock up this morning and took her to the park so she could run laps with me.”
Tamara still stood there, not getting into the car.
“I already brought Sherlock home,” Marshall said. “What, you don’t like dogs?”
“Not particularly,” Tamara admitted. She had delivered flyers as a teen. More than one dog had chased her or barked savagely at her.
“Well, Sherlock’s at home.” Marshall dusted the leather seat to get any stray dog hairs off. “Will you just get in the car?”
With a sigh, Tamara did just that. Marshall then started the car, and loud hip-hop immediately blared through the speakers. Marshall reached for the volume control and turned it down.
Tamara said nothing, just sipped her coffee as a way of avoiding having to speak. She was desperate to find out what had happened the night before, and also terrified. She knew it was very likely that she had behaved inappropriately, but she was embarrassed to ask.
Perhaps there was a part of her that needed that kind of wild encounter with someone to help make her feel desirable again. It had been a while since she’d been with any man. And as much as it was clearly out of character for her to engage in a one-night stand, obviously, on some level, she’d needed to get it on with someone.
“So,” Marshall began, “did you have a good time yesterday?”
Tamara’s stomach twisted. Was he talking about the wedding? Or afterward? Tamara looked at him briefly and then averted her gaze. “If you mean at the wedding,” she said pointedly, “yes, it was lovely.”
“What do you think I mean?” Marshall asked.
“I—I don’t... I didn’t...” Tamara’s voice trailed off.
“I’m a trained investigator,” Marshall told her. When Tamara glanced at him, she saw that he was giving her a curious look. “It’s obvious there’s something else on your mind.”
Tamara said nothing.
“Tamara?” She could feel Marshall’s eyes on her. “Why don’t you tell—”
“Look,” she interrupted him, releasing a heavy breath as she stared at him. “I’ll make this clear. Whatever happened last night, it can’t happen again. I mean, here I am in your car after a night at your house that I don’t even remember. This isn’t like me. I do—” She faltered. “I do remember kissing you. And then...I wake up half-naked in your bed?”
Marshall’s eyes widened, as though intrigued. “You don’t remember what happened?”
“No. Which tells me I obviously wasn’t in my right mind. And you...you should have known better, even if I didn’t.”
“So that’s why you seem on edge,” he said, sounding as though he finally got it.
For someone who touted himself as a trained investigator, he was also a little dense.
“Of course that’s why I’m on edge,” Tamara responded, her words a little harsher than she’d intended. “I’m not the kind of woman you typically date.”
“How would you know the kind of woman I typically date?”
“It’s obvious.”
“Really?” Marshall sounded amused. “How is it obvious?”
Tamara had started something, something she wished she hadn’t. She should have just kept her mouth shut. Moved on from the mistake of the night before and forgotten it ever happened.
“Come on. You say something like that, you’ve got to explain yourself. I met you last night. How on earth can you act as if you know me?”
“Didn’t you start off at the wedding with someone else?” Tamara raised an eyebrow as if she had just scored a match point.
“My cousin, Renee. I told you that.”
“Right,” Tamara scoffed. “She looked like she just came from the Playboy mansion.”
“She is beautiful. And she’s also my cousin. I wouldn’t lie about that.”
Tamara glanced at Marshall. He appeared truthful. Which only made her feel even dumber than getting so drunk the night before that she didn’t remember a thing.
But the truth was, she knew of Marshall’s reputation. He could pretend to be a choirboy, and maybe he had changed, but life had taught her that people didn’t just transform into better versions of themselves. She had married Patrick, ignoring his early bouts of jealousy, thinking he would calm down once he felt secure with the reality that she was his wife. Instead, Patrick’s behavior had only intensified.
Marshall had always had a reputation as being a ladies’ man, and she didn’t imagine that that would have changed throughout the years. The fact that she’d ended up at his house, in his bed, did more to prove he was the same man he’d been thirteen years ago.
“The fact that you took me home last night speaks volumes,” Tamara said.
“Does it, now?” Marshall asked.
“In my state of mind? Of course it does.” She still didn’t understand how she’d gotten so drunk, but that was a moot point now. “But I’m just letting you know that whatever happened, it was a one-time thing. I’m not the sort of woman who hooks up with men for one-night stands. That is totally not me.”
Marshall nodded slowly. “I see.”
“I suspect that’ll suit you just fine anyway,” she added in a voice that was almost a whisper.
“Excuse me?”
With a huge sense of relief, Tamara started to recognize her old neighborhood. “Oh, thank God. We’re almost there.”
“Can’t wait to get away from me,” Marshall commented, sounding as though he was speaking to himself. “I guess I should be offended.”
Tamara didn’t respond, just sipped her coffee. She wished she could be out of the car already.
Away from Marshall.
Maybe it was better that she had no recollection of last night. Even if all she and Marshall had done last night was fool around a little, it was still too much for her liking. Not knowing the details, she could pretend that nothing had happened.
Sure, it wasn’t the most mature way to look at things, but she didn’t particularly feel like being an adult about this. Because as she neared Callie and Nigel’s house, she was wondering how on earth she was going to explain herself to her son and to her friends.
Minutes later, Marshall slowed and turned into the driveway of Callie and Nigel’s home and pulled up behind Tamara’s car. Yesterday, between the wedding and the reception, Tamara had followed Callie to the house when she’d brought the boys to the sitter, and they had gone to the reception hall in one car. Tamara was extremely grateful she’d had the foresight to do that, which saved her from having to head back to the reception hall this morning.
As Marshall put the car into Park, Tamara began to undo the seat belt immediately. But as she reached to open the door with her other hand, Marshall took her gently by the wrist.
She looked at him. “What are you doing?”
“You don’t want to ask me what happened last night? You don’t want to know?” he said as he released her wrist.
Tamara swallowed. She wanted to know, but then again she didn’t want to know. Her chest tightened with anxiety even while her stomach fluttered with a different sensation.
“Whatever happened, I think it’s best that we for—”
“Forget it. Fine.”
Marshall’s response gave Tamara pause. Guilt made her stomach tense. She was being harsh with him, and he looked as though he had no clue why.
It was time she fill him in. “You dated my cousin,” she told him. “That’s how I know all about you. I’m not passing judgment out of thin air.”
Marshall’s eyes narrowed with confusion. “What?”
“Twelve years ago—thirteen, actually—you dated my cousin, and you broke her heart. Gloria Miller?” she added, when he continued to seem clueless. “You chased her, you got what you wanted and then you dumped her. She was crushed. And she wasn’t the only woman you used and abused. There were plenty. Your reputation...it was pretty infamous.”
Understanding filled Marshall’s eyes. “Ahh, so that explains your attitude.” He paused. “Then the kiss last night...?”
“Was a bit of payback. I was toying with you. Letting you know that you can’t get your way with every woman. The kiss was about...teaching you a lesson.” Tamara quickly looked downward, shame coming over her. Some lesson that had been.
“At least now I know why you think ill of me. But clearly, whatever lesson you wanted to teach me didn’t go exactly as planned.”
Tamara whipped her gaze to his. “I realize that! You don’t have to rub it in.”
Several seconds passed, seconds that seemed like hours. Marshall stared at her, and Tamara held his gaze, determined not to let her embarrassment get to her.
“I really do need to get inside.”
“And here I thought we’d made some sort of connection last night. I mean, that kiss didn’t feel like payback...”
“You need me to spell it out? I’m not interested. Not in a guy like you.”
“Ouch.”
“Okay,” Tamara said, breathing out harshly. “This has gone in a direction I never intended. Please, let’s just forget all of it. I apologize for being offensive. Obviously things got to a certain level between us last night and I’m upset about that. And now I keep putting my foot in my mouth. I’m embarrassed enough.”
“I’m not stopping you from leaving,” Marshall said.
“Thank you.” Tamara opened the door.
But as she was stepping out the car, Marshall said, “Though you might want to know that you don’t need to be embarrassed. At least not about what did or did not happen last night.”
Tamara halted but didn’t look at him.
“I have no clue how you got naked, because when I put you in my spare bedroom, you had your dress on. You must have taken it off some time in the night.”
Tamara spun around and faced him, her breaths coming rapidly.
“A beautiful woman like you—would I have wanted to help you out of your dress? Sure, if you had been conscious and willing. But you were out cold, and I put you in the spare bed so that you could get some rest and sleep it off.”
Tamara’s eyes widened as she searched his face. “You’re saying that we never—”
“No.” His eyes held hers for a long moment. “Not that I wouldn’t have been willing,” he added, and the words alone made her feel flushed. “But since you practically passed out in my arms when you came out of the restroom, and because I didn’t want to bother Callie or Nigel with the situation—or to have you go home in that state and have your son see you—I took you to my place.”
Tamara was stunned; she had no clue what to say. Not only had he not taken advantage of her, he’d actually been thinking of her son—something she greatly appreciated.
“Never in my life have I had to take advantage of a woman to get her into my bed, and I’m not about to start now.”
“You—you never took off my dress?” How had she gotten naked, then? She must have awoken, perhaps because she was hot. Yes, she had memories of being hot. She must have taken off her own dress and had no recollection of it.
“I guess you’ll believe what you want to believe,” Marshall said. “But, Tamara, the truth is that I didn’t touch you in an inappropriate way. As amusing as it was to watch you squirm, believing that we’d made love, I wanted to make sure that you knew nothing happened—since the idea of sharing my bed bothers you that much.”
“I—I’m sorry.” It was the only thing Tamara could say, even though she knew the words wouldn’t be enough. “I...I just... I thought... I really am sorry.”
She’d been flustered. Out of her element. On edge around Marshall.
“Nigel is my best friend,” Marshall explained. “I told him last night I was going to take you home, look out for you. And even if you think I wouldn’t care about taking advantage of you, there’s no way that I would disrespect Nigel and the trust he placed in me. You can take that to the bank.”
Tamara felt like a heel. “Like I said, I’m sorry. I don’t get drunk, and I still don’t understand what happened. Waking up in a strange bed had me out of sorts. So, I apologize for my attitude. And thank you,” she added faintly.
“Pardon me?”
Tamara couldn’t meet Marshall’s eyes. If she never had to see him again, it would be too soon. Her humiliation was at an all-time high.
She drew in a deep breath and faced him. Hadn’t she dealt with much worse in her life? “Thank you,” she said more firmly, meaning it. “Thank you for looking out for me last night when I couldn’t do it myself.”
“You’re welcome. And a word of advice? Lay off the alcohol.”
