Tanner
He could hear the muffled cry from the bottom step. She couldn’t possibly forgive him for this. Hell, he couldn’t forgive himself.
No, losing Belle was not an option. He’d fix this. He’d prove that even though he screwed up, he still loved her more than life itself, and he would fix this. That was his job. He was the oldest, the heir to the company his father built, and the one who could take care of everyone. Especially Belle. He moved up the stairs slowly, quietly.
At six-foot two, he couldn’t sneak in anywhere, but if he could find a positive aspect to her gut-wrenching sobs, it was that they were loud enough to drown out his steps as he approached the bedroom door.
The last thing Belle wanted was him anywhere near her. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. But for more than a decade, when she needed something, he was there. When she was sad, he made her feel better. When she was crying, he held her. He was there. Every damn time he was there.
He softly dropped to his knees on the opposite side of the door. This wasn’t like every other time. Another hiccuping sob sounded through the closed door, and in a move he thought impossible, his heart shredded more. This time the cause of her heartache lay squarely on his shoulders.
Tanner put his hand against the door, resting his forehead beside it as gently as possible. He wanted to find someone willing to punch him. He wanted to beat his head off the doorframe. More than anything he wanted to turn back time and never leave for that ridiculous bull riding tournament. Or go back to his hotel instead of following his brother to the bar. Or…
No amount of wanting could fix what he’d done. He turned around and leaned his back against the doorframe, closing his eyes. No, she wouldn’t want him here, but he wasn’t leaving her.
Why? The question had repeated over and over in his brain the entire trip back from Nashville. He left hours earlier than he’d initially planned, driven by the need to see her. She wasn’t just his wife; Belle was his best friend. When she smiled, he still felt that flip-flop in his stomach. When she cut that sensuous sideways look his way, every part of him jumped to attention. Twelve years and two kids had done nothing to lessen his desire for her. She was still the sexiest damn thing on two legs and so much more than he deserved.
None of which answered the question of why. Belle was perfect for him. He had known that from the first day he met her. In spite of the churning in his gut, a small smile played about his lips. She still had no idea he had spent nearly two weeks planting himself in the quad in between classes to make sure he was in her line of sight as much as possible. She never knew that on the fourth day back at Wake Forest he saw her for the first time and was almost positive that was when he fell in love. She certainly didn’t know that he personally threatened half the football team when a kicker started running his mouth about the hot freshman brunette with olive skin.
He screwed everything up because he wanted to go shot for shot with his brother. He wasn’t embellishing in the slightest when he told Belle he hated himself far more than she ever could. At least he hoped it was true. He hoped somewhere in her heart she could still love him and find some way to forgive him.
Lost in thought, he hadn’t realized the sobs from the other side of the door had silenced. Gingerly, he pressed his ear against the wood to see if he could hear any movement. Seconds ticked past, and he swore if he didn’t hear at least a rustle from the room he’d break the damn door down to make sure his Belle was okay.
The click of the lock registered just in time for Tanner to jump to his feet and take one big step back from the door before he fell through. If he thought he was gutted before, that was nothing compared to how he felt looking at Belle’s gorgeous brown eyes turned red and swollen. Every fiber of his being was screaming to hold her and he barely controlled the instinct.
“I, uh, I…” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Listen, I know you don’t want to see me or touch me or talk to me, but dammit, Belle, I can’t sit downstairs knowing you’re up here crying. I just needed to be near you.”
He wanted her to scream at him. Throw something. Hit him. Do all three. Hell, he didn’t care. He deserved it. But she just stood in the doorway staring blankly at him, not a trace of the sparkle that always lit her eyes. “Did you bring your bag in?”
His brow drew down, and he shook his head. “My what?”
She folded her arms in front of her, and the shielded posture made him wince. This was not his Belle. She never closed herself off to him. Just ten minutes ago, she jumped in his arms when he got home. And his cowardly ass couldn’t bring himself to hold onto her the way she deserved. What had he done?
“Your bag? Your suitcase? Did you bring it in?” With each question, her eyebrows lifted, but her expression remained impassive. “I need to finish doing the laundry and I’ll throw your clothes in with the last load.”
Clothes? He had done something unthinkable, unimaginable, possibly unforgiveable, and she wanted to wash his clothes. They needed to talk, she needed to call him every name in the book, they needed to work this out because there was no way he was going to let Belle go. And she wanted to do laundry.
Belle waved a hand over to the stairs. “Is it in the back of the truck? I’ll just grab it.”
“No.” He nearly shouted the word and stepped in front of her, blocking the stairs. “No, Belle. I’ll get it, I will, but we need to talk. We need to fix this. I need to fix this. Tell me what to do, Belle.” She lifted her desolate gaze to meet his. Broken. His sweet, fiery, beautiful Belle was broken, and it was all his fault. He really did need someone to kick his ass.
“Don’t call me Belle again.” She pushed past him and walked down the stairs, taking the air out of his lungs with her as she went.
***
“Aren’t you tired of this yet?”
He shoved his book in the side pocket of his backpack and grinned at Belle. “Nope. I’m getting caught up on all my reading so I can keep up with you.”
The truth was he had been late to football practice the past three days, but she didn’t need to know that. They could start without him anyway. He was only the quarterback. The team captain. Really not necessary.
She shifted on her feet and bit her lower lip. “I’m not going to go out with you, Tanner.”
Her words stung, but he affected an unconcerned smile. “That doesn’t mean I have to stop asking, Belle. Besides, I won’t be able to sleep tonight unless I walk you to the library and know exactly what book you pick this time.” That was a lie. He’d sleep like a baby and dream about the girl currently shooting him down again.
A tint of pink tinged her cheeks. Damn, that was cute. She grabbed his arm and pulled him around the side of the building, gaining a little more privacy than the front steps could afford.
“Why?” She crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows meaningfully.
He shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could muster. The truth was pretty simple. He had no clue. Was it the fact he caught her reading the same books he loved in the cafeteria on the extremely rare occasion she was there? Was it because the first time they talked she claimed almost all of his favorite movies as her own? Maybe it was because he never knew what sarcastic comment she’d lay on him next? Or simply because she was the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen?
Whatever the reason, for the past three weeks, he couldn’t think of anything other than the petite brunette with light brown eyes. His usual patience flew out the window with her, and his initial idea to entice her to come to him was quickly abandoned in favor of walking her to and from her classes as much as possible between his own.
She narrowed her gaze and pursed her lips. “Why, Tanner? Why do you spend every free minute waiting out here just to walk me from one building to another?” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “And why in the world do you call me Belle?”
With every word she spoke, his eyes followed the movement of her lips. Her perfect Cupid’s bow mouth covered in a light pink gloss caught the rays of the late September sun and seemed to sparkle. He dropped his backpack to the ground and took a step closer.
“Why? Because every night when I go to sleep, I think about what your hair would feel like between my fingers. Because I can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to hold you in my arms. Because I have an insatiable need to know what your lips taste like. Because, sweetheart, you drive me absolutely crazy.”
He took another step forward, and her backpack joined his on the ground with a thud. He cupped her cheek with one hand and the other rested on her hip as he backed her against the brick wall of the building. At that moment, he could care less if anyone saw him. His heart soared at finally being exactly where he dreamed, with Belle in his arms.
Tanner lowered his head until his lips were a breath away from hers. The eyes that had haunted him for weeks were wide with excitement, her pupils dilated with desire. Yeah, she felt the same way he did. “And I have to call you Belle. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”
Before she could answer, his lips touched hers. Lightly at first, barely meeting, until he felt the little gasp from Belle and her hands went around his neck. He groaned against her mouth and deepened the kiss, pushing her harder into the wall. His hand moved from her cheek to the long brown waves that were every bit as silky as he’d imagined. He tangled his hand in her hair as he cupped the back of her head.
His tongue ran across her bottom lip, and the corners of his mouth quirked up when her fingers crawled up the back of his neck into his hair. She slowly opened her mouth beneath his, inviting him in shyly. Tanner dug his hands into her jean-clad hip, and he nearly fell to his knees at the first taste of her. His most vivid fantasy couldn’t compare to the sweetness that was the reality of Belle.
He had no idea how long they stayed connected before he had to pull back and suck oxygen into his lungs. He leaned his forehead against hers. After a few more deep breaths, he was confident enough to speak. “That’s why, Belle.”
Her swollen lips turned up in a small smile. “Those marketing strategy classes are working. I’m definitely sold.”
Tanner chuckled and pulled his head back slightly. “So I can keep calling you Belle?”
A spark lit up her eyes, and she tugged his head back down. “As long as you keep kissing me like that, you can call me Belle forever,” she murmured before their lips met again.