Chapter Fifteen
Daniel held her tight for long minutes, absorbing her sobs until they softened into sniffles.
“Hey, look at me.” He kept his voice gentle as he tipped up Tasha’s chin. She’d stopped crying, but her lashes were still damp, the rims of her eyes reddened.
“I didn’t mean to cry all over you,” she said in a voice still thick with tears. “I just needed to tell you the whole truth, with nothing left out.”
The pain of what she’d experienced clenched in his gut. Yet he was grateful that she’d finally given him her trust, confided her deepest secrets. Each of the Mavericks knew just how deep into the darkness family secrets could drag you if you let them.
“Your guilt, your belief in your culpability—those aren’t the truth,” he said. “You’re not to blame, Tasha. Not for any of it.”
She blinked, slowly, finally looking up. “It is the truth, Daniel. Everything I told you.”
“Not the part where you load the blame on yourself, taking responsibility for not seeing through your father’s lies.”
His heart hurt for the loss of her illusions about her family. Hell, it made his chest tight just to skirt around the issue of possible bumps in the road between his mother and father, so he could understand how much her family’s long con must have devastated her. But to blame herself? He couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t accept it.
“We’re not the products of our parents, with no ability to change. We don’t need to live with their stigma. And we don’t ever have to be like them. We can be better than they are and rise above our circumstances.”
Every one of his friends had come from a hell created by their parents. That’s why his mom and dad had taken them in. And still, the Mavericks had risen far above their backgrounds—and their bad genes, as Tasha had called it—not just in terms of money, but in their integrity, their loyalty, their kindness toward others.
“You wanted to see only the good in your dad.” He cupped her cheek, stroking her skin with his thumb, the contact necessary to his entire being. “That’s natural, even admirable. Children are born having faith that their parents will take care of them, watch out for them, love them. But if your parents blow it—that’s not your fault.”
“Can’t you see how weak I was?” she insisted. “Living in la-la land where everyone is good and no one ever does anything simply for their own gain and at the expense of others.”
“My mother always looks for the good in people,” he countered, “and she’s the farthest thing from weak.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He laid his finger on her lips, reminding himself of her sweet taste, how good she felt in his arms. “I know you didn’t mean anything against her. I’m trying to show you that it’s okay to give people a chance instead of judging them too quickly. Mom believes you have to see the good in people and everything around you. Or life is just misery. Even though she’s wrong sometimes—because not everyone is good—I admire that about her more than I can say.” He caressed the fine hair at Tasha’s temple. “And I admire that about you too.”
“I bet your mom never met anyone who did things as evil as my father.”
He almost snorted. “Oh yes, she has.” But he wouldn’t tell Tasha about Whitney right now. Or the other Mavericks’ parents. Or the selfish punk who’d run Jeremy off the road and left him with brain damage. This moment needed to be all about Tasha. The rest could come later. “You’ve got to remember that your father did those things, not you. All you did was miss the clues about him. That’s not evil. It doesn’t make you bad.”
“I just don’t know if I’ll ever see it that way.” Her words were harsh, full of pain.
And they broke his heart.
He couldn’t make her see the truth in one blinding flash, but he needed her to understand what he saw when he looked at her. “You’re loving and caring. You’re loyal. You still love your brother and believe there has to be a reason he took the actions he did.”
Tasha was a pure soul, even if she didn’t know it. She was Maverick material.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “My mom is my hero. You’ve probably already figured that out. And you have so many of the same qualities. She would adore you.”
Tasha shifted against him, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I’ve been so afraid of what you’d say when you learned the truth. How you’d hate me.”
He ached that her words clearly proved she still didn’t believe him. “I could never hate you.” He kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t care about someone who callously hurt others.” He kissed her eyelid, tasting the lingering salt of her tears. “I would only want to help someone who can’t resist rescuing puppies.” He kissed the tip of her nose and slid his fingers into her hair. “Not to mention someone who loves my do-it-yourself videos.”
She laughed softly, a sound he’d been desperately waiting for, and he took her parted lips with his. What he couldn’t make her hear with words, he tried to say with his kiss.
It was a kiss of acceptance and forgiveness.
A kiss to say he didn’t give a damn about her family or what they’d done.
Their first kiss had moved the earth like a 7.0 quake. Tasha’s finally opening herself up to him, so beautifully, so completely, had been more than anything he could have hoped for. Better than any fantasy.
But this kiss was beyond his wildest dreams—pure, sweet, unconditional emotion, laced with sizzling heat.
Tasha’s hands fisted in his shirt as if it were the only way she could remain on her feet as he cupped her nape in his hand and plundered her mouth the way he wanted to plunder her body. He forgot they were standing in the middle of her living room. All he desired was her body against his, to taste her, to show her with his hands, mouth, and soul that her past was immaterial.
Only the beautiful person she was inside mattered.
Her fingers loosened and she rose on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around him, her breasts pressed to his chest. She smelled like a fresh rain shower and tasted as sweet as fruit. Her hair fell in a silk web over his hands and arms, caressing him like the sweep of her fingers across his skin.
He lost himself in her sweetness, kissing her until his head swam, being kissed by her until he couldn’t feel the floor beneath his feet.
Nothing existed but Tasha.
He would have kissed her forever if, behind them, someone hadn’t cleared his throat.
* * *
Tasha felt lightheaded, not just from that glorious kiss, or from realizing Daniel’s friends had been standing in her shell of a living room watching them for who knew how long.
No, she was dizzied by the miracle that Daniel didn’t hate her.
She’d worried about his reaction for so long and so hard, convinced he’d think the worst of her. The fact that he hadn’t was like drinking champagne bubbles so fast they went straight to her head.
He hadn’t walked away from her in horror. He hadn’t withdrawn the help he’d offered.
Instead, he’d said her family’s crimes weren’t her fault.
Then he’d dazzled her with his kiss.
She still didn’t feel she deserved his unconditional acceptance. Nor did it feel right to love anything half as much as she loved Daniel’s kisses.
She had so much to make up for—and so much more courage to find within herself. Which was why she had to step away from him now, though every cell in her body craved his closeness. It was why a kiss that beautiful could never happen again.
But at least she wasn’t living under a cloud of lies anymore.
Now, she had another test, another act of bravery. She had to face his friends’ reactions to the truth. Evan certainly hadn’t been pleased when he’d found the damning evidence about her father and brother. He couldn’t be anything but furious to find her wrapped so cozily around Daniel.
As though he could read her mind, Daniel tightened his hold on her, not allowing even an inch of space between them.
“It’s not their business,” he said softly. “It’s your story and your right to keep it to yourself.”
“I need to tell them everything, just like I told you.” She’d been weak for so long, she had to step up now, no matter how scary it was.
“We’re heading down to the big house to get some dinner and wondered if you two wanted to come along.” Sebastian’s comment was the world’s most subtle way of saying, It would be nice if one of you told us what the hell is going on.
Tasha’s heart was beating like hummingbird wings, but she pushed the words out. “I’ve just told Daniel who I am and why I’m here. Now I want to tell all of you.” She looked straight at Evan. “You’re his best friends, and I know how much you care about him. I didn’t set out to hurt anyone—”
“Tasha.” Daniel’s voice was warm and gentle. “They’re not going to judge you for what your family did.”
But she couldn’t let him speak for his friends. Without further preamble, she told them everything, exactly as she’d told Daniel.
When she finally took a breath, Evan closed the distance to stand in front of her. “I spent the past hour up on the roof knowing there had to be more to your story than what I found online. But it was my own history that made me paint things in black and white, without even knowing what the hell I was talking about.” His eyes were shadowed, anger with himself marring the curve of his mouth. “Forgive me for being an ass, Tasha.”
Before she could tell him he didn’t need her forgiveness for anything—who could blame him for wanting to protect his friend?—the others chimed in.
“We never thought you were anything but good,” said Will.
From Matt, “You don’t owe us explanations. Ari and Noah will love you.”
And a heartfelt, “Come here and give me a hug,” from Sebastian, who, with his arms gentle and accepting around her, whispered, “Sorry we interrupted right when things were getting good between you and Daniel.”
The Mavericks were the men she wished her father could have been. The men she wished her brother actually was.
All the while, Daniel stood tall beside her, believing in her.
His unconditional acceptance—and that of his friends—blurred her eyes with tears all over again. She’d dropped her guard and nothing bad had happened. She’d told the truth, and they hadn’t snarled like rabid dogs the way Eric had.
She still had so much more to make up for, but she was proud of taking the first step, of confessing her greatest faults to people she respected.
There was so much more to do, a long road of actions she had to take, but first, she needed the Mavericks to know how grateful she was. “I can never thank you all enough for everything you’ve done.” For working on her house. And, more important, for pardoning her terrible mistakes. “I appreciate your help from the bottom of my heart.”
Daniel took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers lightly, spreading his warmth through her. “You’ve got the Mavericks behind you, Tasha.” He grinned. “Whether you want us or not.”
“I’m starving.” Matt’s stomach growled right on cue. “Steak for dinner sound good to everyone?”
Tasha couldn’t believe they’d forgiven her and, just like that, moved on to practical matters like food and who’d lost the extra box of roofing nails and if the weather would hold out until the new roof was finished tomorrow.
But instead of following them, Tasha said, “I’ll be along in a little bit. Don’t wait on dinner for me, okay?”
Daniel got that stubborn look, the one she was starting to know quite well, readying himself to insist on staying with her. Until she whispered, “I’m not going to run. I promise. There’s just something I need to do.” She gave him a small but heartfelt smile.
He left with obvious reluctance—and no small measure of concern for her creasing the corners of his eyes. As soon as the men were walking down the mountain toward his house, Tasha went to her laptop.
She hadn’t been into her email for so long that she fumbled her password a couple of times. But if she was brave enough to tell Daniel—and the Mavericks as well—then she couldn’t stop there.
It was time, long past time, to find out where Drew and her father had gone.
She sent her brother a quick email. Moments later, she got a domain notice saying the email address didn’t exist. Just as she’d thought. She sent a brief note to Barbara, her father’s receptionist, saying the usual, Hi, hope all is well, heard from my brother or my dad? Thanks. Who else could she contact? She trolled her history, finding a group email from her brother that included addresses for a couple of his friends. She sent queries their way too. A polite opening, then, Heard anything from my brother?
She stared at the screen, thinking, thinking. Who else? She didn’t bother with either of the investigators who’d talked to her. If they’d tracked down her father and Drew, they’d already be in jail. But hadn’t there been a lawyer her father had brought in? Tasha pressed her fingers to her temples to try to squeeze a name out of her brain. Nothing came.
Barbara might remember. As soon as the receptionist emailed her back—if she emailed back—Tasha would ask her. Heck, Barbara might know lots of other names to try.
For now, though, Tasha couldn’t think of anyone else, which made her realize how pitifully little she knew about her family.
Her heart was beating fast and her fingers trembled slightly on the keys of her laptop as she waited for someone to reply. But her inbox remained glaringly empty. She’d have to wait, hoping someone would have a trail she could follow.
Yet despite the failure to receive any answers, it was good to finally do something constructive. She wasn’t running, she wasn’t hiding. She was being proactive.
And the person she had to thank for that was Daniel. Because without his touch, his kiss, or his belief in her, she might never have found the courage.