Tatum

“So, I’m just going to come out and ask. Did you sleep with the sexy Dean Wagner?” Erica asks, steps out of the dressing room, and spins around for me to look at the sixth pair of jeans she’s tried on. She keeps her attention on her skinny little ass in the mirror instead of looking me in the eye after asking such a blatant question. My face heats, knowing there are other women inside of this overpriced store. Rich, snooping bitches I’m sure would love to hear gossip about one of Hollywood's eligible bachelors.

“Can you be any louder?” I proclaim the second she raises her eyes to mine. “No, I didn’t. You should get those, by the way. They make your ass look huge.” I purse my lips, shake my head at her, step back into the dressing room, and shimmy out of the jeans. It feels good to get out and shop. I haven’t thought about buying anything new in years. Haven’t had the desire to give a shit, really.

“Oh, stop. There isn’t anyone around us. Do these really make my butt look big? I kind of love these ones.”

“No, they don’t. You should get them. They're you,” I answer, fold the jeans, set them on the shelf, and grab the box with the boots I like. I’d much rather pay the clearance price for them, which is still high, instead of four hundred dollars for a pair of jeans just because they have a famous designer name stitched inside.

“Are you getting a pair? The ones with the rhinestones on the back looked cute on you.”

“No, I can buy a pair similar to these two streets over for fifty bucks.” I leave it at that, and so does she. Erica has spent a lot of money on me over the years. Things I don’t need. She has a heart dripping with generosity; unlike her, though, this expensive stuff isn’t me. I’ll bet she’s in there now trying to figure out a way to sneak them in her pile. If this is how Erica wants to spend her hard-earned money, then she can. Me on the other hand, I can’t afford it. Even if I had all the money in the world, I still wouldn’t pay this price. It’s robbery, and legal at that.

I sigh, think back to the day when all I wanted to do was give up after Sam and I split. I might not have owed anything on my building, but the bills for the remodel, my home, car, and daily expenses added up. I wasn’t sure I would be able to make ends meet. When you're used to living a certain way, then half of it is taken from you in a matter of hours, you flip your shit for a bit, then you pull your head out of the hole you're in, and plow straight ahead. I’m just now getting comfortable with spending money, and it still feels weird.

Thank God, Dean isn’t one to flash his money around. He might have a big house, more money than he knows what to do with, but he doesn’t act like it. He’s subtle, sincere, and I appreciate the fact he doesn’t spoil Leila with it.

“Did the two of you talk about what happened at the beach? Does Dean know everything that asshole did to you? How you went through a horrible experience? On your wedding day, no less. If you did, I bet he wants to kick his ass.”

I walk a few steps across the tiled floor, stop, and look at the boots in the full-length mirror and wonder if this is Erica’s subtle way of changing her nosey tactics. I should be grateful she didn’t ask her questions in front of Leila. But I’m not. It’s annoying as hell. Maybe she’s curious to know how much Dean hates my ex. I don’t know why, but the way she sidetracks her questions without actually saying Sam’s name has me contemplating her line of questioning. I’m quite sure it has more to do with Sam than anything else.

I glance up at my face. I woke with a huge smile this morning. Worked all day with it plastered while envisioning more happening between Dean and me. With my sister being direct yet evasive, there isn’t a chance of one creeping on me now.

I’ve seen Dean more this past week than I thought I would. I went to see Joslyn and the baby, and he was there. Outside. Shirtless and sweating. Apparently, Roman couldn’t wait to put together a giant-sized hammock for them to lounge around in with the baby. Dean came over to help him put it together.

I did my best to focus on visiting with my friend instead of preoccupying my mind with dirty thoughts as our gazes kept locking on each other. His body with rough edges, smooth chest, and well-defined back was hard to ignore as his muscles flexed with every twist of the screwdriver he had in his hand. I kept imagining him screwing something else with those flexible fingers while sweat was dripping from both of our bodies.

Once Joslyn caught wind of my daydreaming, we made our way outside, where the four of us talked for hours. It ended up being a carefree, relaxing day. One I could surely get used to.

He came into the store the next day at Leila’s request. She wanted him to see what she had done with my window display and talk him into trying a cup of chocolate coffee. His brutal honesty when he told her, “No fucking thank you” had me laughing so hard that when he turned around and noticed me, my laugh died rather quickly and in its place my mouth held on to the smile, but my thoughts waned with the intent stare he shot my way.

If Leila hadn't been standing there, I would have gladly stripped out of my clothes and let him take me on the floor. His eyes searched mine deeply. And when he licked his lips, I tried not to follow the movement of his tongue or think about how it would feel touching my skin. I did everything I could not to storm over where they were standing and kiss him.

I couldn’t stop myself from stealing glances at the man who is beginning to consume my every thought as she showed him around. I also became highly aroused and nervous the closer they got to the back room. It was the first time I didn’t want someone to go in there without me being the one to show them. Not that either one of them would have known what it was for, but I had my idea I wanted to experience with him tucked in the corner in that room. I just hadn’t conjured up the nerve to ask him yet. But the more I saw him and the more we talked, the more those nerves faded. Thank goodness several customers walked in before she could finish. He left with a promise to call both of us.

I would never talk out loud about the description I have of whatever is happening between us because of the massive respect I have for Dean. It’s like my head and heart are burning out of control for him. It’s a raging wildfire, out of this world, shining with all its heated glory across my skin. The burn along with the welcoming passion it delivers has me thinking that everything I’ve held inside of me for far too long is burning out of control with one strike of a match across my body. We are like fire, and I wanted to pour fuel on the smoldering flames.

“We talked a little bit about him. Sam doesn’t have anything to do with Dean and me. I’d prefer to leave all of that in the past and start fresh. Both of us do, actually. He’s a great guy, Erica. I like him. Why are you bringing this up suddenly?” I sit down, pull off the boots, and decide they are not in my budget. I smile to myself when I think back to Dean and his protective parenting nature. I find it charming, sexy, and incredibly hot. I picked up the hard love part with the way he took Nash out of Roman’s hands whenever they took a break. He has a huge heart surrounded by thick, heavy layers of his past that are covered in dark ash. All they need is for someone like me to come along and blow them away.

As Erica whips open the curtain of the dressing room she’s in and glares at me, I realize she’s not satisfied with my answers. The longer she scowls at me, the more I realize there’s something troubling her. “Erica, if pressuring me about Dean is why you wanted to go shopping tonight, then you can take me home.”

I have a ton of work to do, anyway. How I ever got everything done before Leila started working with me beats the hell out of me. Owning your own business can be rewarding at times. At others, all I want to do is pull my hair out. Specifically, jumping from one holiday to the other. I swear there’s chocolate for everything under the sun.

She stops scowling at me for a second before she lifts her trembling chin. Her mouth is hanging open in transparent shock. Erica and I never argue. We did very little of it when we were kids. Our mother would swat our asses hard when we did. We learned our lessons quickly. As we grew older, she became the boulder that always stopped my fall. Her constant badgering over wanting to know everything about Dean is driving me crazy. I’m tired of it. She needs to stop snooping and get to the point.

“The saving-your-life part, that’s what this is all about.” She grabs her bag, a few pairs of jeans, a shirt, and sits down beside me.

Mournful eyes graze my confused face. I can’t tell which one of our stares is more a chaotic mess. I know what I’m feeling, what I hope she’s seeing. A mix of excitement about Dean that thrashes me from side to side like a rollercoaster ride, and pain with seeing her struggle with what to say. I have no clue why she would think that. It hurts. Especially coming from her.

But I know my sister, I know her fears, and as she opens her mouth to speak, then closes it with a sharp snap, I can’t help but remember so many things about the night I thought I lost everything.

I remember seeing my life race in black and white before my eyes. I remember seeing the struggles our mother went through by working her fingers to the bone, coming home and taking care of us, loving us to the fullest while making sure we appreciated everything life had to offer. Never taking anything for granted and working hard to achieve goals. Be happy and telling us how one day, the right man was going to come along and sweep us off our feet in one epic swoop. I thought Sam was the man to do that for me. After getting to know Dean, I realized more than I did before how wrong I was.

“Erica, you aren’t making any sense. What the hell is going on?” I ask, so she’ll spit out what she’s trying to say. She’s frustrating me.

“Listen, I’m not interfering. I’m on your side. Always, Tatum. I’m proud of you for finally talking to him. I’m busting at the seams with happiness you went out with him. He’s brought you out of your shell. I couldn’t be more grateful to him. I just want to make sure you like him for the right reasons and not because he saved you after Sam broke your heart.”

I swallow when she spits his name out like acid. I despise that man. I don’t want to talk about him at the same time I talk about Dean. Those two are complete opposites. Sam is a ghost from my past, one who used to haunt me, but the look of determination in Erica’s eyes tells me she’s serious. She’s going to push me about whatever is weighing on her mind like she always does.

Tears sting my eyes. I refuse to believe I’m attracted to him out of some twisted fulfillment because he pulled me out of the water. I won’t let anyone put that doubt in my mind. Not after the things he and I have shared.

I internally roll my eyes at the thought. I’m a grown woman. Dean is a grown man. It’s nobody's business what we do.

Erica isn’t just anybody, though; she’s blood, my best friend, and I see so clearly what she wants me to see. She’s worried and concerned. Her ability to put me before her is a quality I’ve always admired. Despite that, she’s not going to get off without me finding out why she doubts my sanity.

I scoot over on the couch, angle my body toward her, and narrow my eyes. A deep love overflowing from my heart inside of me.

“The other day, you were pushing me toward him, and now suddenly you think I’m interested in him because he saved my life. Erica, you know me better than that.” Her eyes widen even more. I’ve grabbed her attention with a little harsher tone than what I feel dangling from my mouth.

“Contrary to what you think, this is not me being nosey. I can see you like him. I’m in your corner, remember? Dean and Sam hate each other. There are unresolved issues between them, whether you want to admit it or not. I don’t want you to get hurt, Tatum. I know you see where I’m coming from. If you tell me you like him for the man he is, then I believe you. I need to know he likes you, too. I wouldn’t be a good sister if I didn’t bring it up.”

And there it is. She’s frightened for me. Either she thinks I’ll backpedal and take Sam back if he comes pleading, or she’s frightened he’ll run my name through hell.

I don’t have to guess which one she’s worried about. It’s written all over her. She’s afraid of what people will say about me. My God, I love this woman so much that I scooch right back to the spot I vacated.

“This time, I don’t think you're nosey. This time, I think you’re beating around the bush about something else. They might have unresolved issues. A lot of people do when it comes to how Sam operates. He’s slime. I love you, Erica, but you are hiding something from me. It’s not like you to play a game of chicken shit with me.”

Her face turns white, and she fidgets with her fingers. Which she never does. With all I have in me, I know this entire conversation has to do with Sam. She’s going to tell me something I don’t want to hear.

“I’m not hiding anything. I want you to be happy, is all. Why is that so hard to believe?”

God. I feel guilt bury in my throat. My heart stops its thunderous beating in my chest. It slows to a barely-there thump. My sister took such good care of me. Picked me up off the floor more times than I can count. Carried me to bed, showered me. Fed me and loved me despite the wreck I was. She never pitied me. Never told me to get my ass in gear until she knew the time was right. Even though I’m better off without Sam in my life, I hate him for making my sister worry about me.

“I know you do. I want that, too. For both of us, Erica. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care if you dive in headfirst with the man. Go for it. Let him screw your brains out. Fall in love. Make me an aunt. I’m asking you to be careful because we both know Sam won’t sit still on this if he finds out. You have the biggest heart, Tatum. What that man did to you took you away from me. I see glimpses of my sister now. She’s brighter than she was before. Sam is an evil man. I wouldn’t put anything past him; if he thinks he can hurt Dean through you, he’ll do it. I know it’s early in this relationship, but I’m telling you now he better treat you like the queen you are, or I’m going to kick his ass. And if Sam comes around and pulls his shit, then I expect Dean to defend you.”

“An aunt? Now you’re really losing it,” I voice, lifting my brows and shaking my head before laying it on her shoulder. “You’re the best sister I could have ever asked for, Erica. I haven’t any idea where Sam is. In hell where he belongs, I hope. The man can’t hurt Dean or me unless we let him. I won’t let him hurt me. If it’s my name you’re worried about, I don’t care what people think of me. I know who I am. The people who care about me know who I am. I’m Tatum Field, the woman our mother raised, the woman who thinks the world of her older sister. I owe nothing to anyone.”

I vaguely remember when our dad skipped out of our lives. The one thing that always stuck with me was how defensive Erica was with me. She would jump down anyone's throat when they looked at me in a way she didn’t like. She was always waiting outside of my class after school, and together we would walk to the bus that eventually dropped us off a block away from the store. I was a whiner. Didn’t understand why a father would leave his wife and children. Erica knew; she would always tell me he was a chicken shit. That if he were a real man, he would take care of the people he loved.

“Dean is good for me. Both he and Leila are the best people to have walked into my life in a long time.”

“Okay, could you do me one favor, then?” She lifts her hand, twines our fingers, and squeezes.

“As long as it’s not letting you buy me those jeans.” I grin.

“It’s not. Could you at least put that smile back on your face? I have a feeling you’re going to need it for the cameras.”