Taking It All(40)

"What time do you want me there?" Chessy asked quietly, not sounding certain that she would be welcome.

Tate nearly lost his shit over that but made a visible effort to relax   so he didn't come across sounding like an asshole. But there were some   things that needed to be addressed.

"Baby, you do not have to ask what time it's okay for you to come to   your own house. I don't plan to start cooking until you get here. I   thought you could sit at the island and ride herd while I try not to   ruin our supper."

This time he heard the smile in his voice and he ached all the way to   his soul for one smile, directed at him. Her looking at him like he'd   hung the moon. It was the way she used to look at him. Pure adoration   that was there for the world to see. She was a magnet for people. They   were inexplicably drawn to her just to gain a smile or a few sweet   words. Men and women alike walked away as if they had just been in the   presence of royalty. And well, she was in a way. She was his princess.

He'd done everything to outfit the princess, to transform her into a   woman who never had need of a single item. Her credit card had no limit   and he encouraged her frequently to go out and buy something for   herself. She was infuriating in that regard because she always had the   same answer. She didn't need anything. Tate gave her everything she   wanted. How he'd loved hearing those heartfelt words come from his   wife's sweet lips. What man wouldn't be absolutely agog over the fact   that his woman gave not one damn over wealth or material possessions.   What she wanted above all was  …  her husband. And that should have been   the easiest slam dunk of all.

All he had to do was give her his undivided attention. Thinking back,   yes, he'd desperately wanted to net this client because she was also   entertaining other options. It was what had prevented him from giving   Chessy what she deserved.

Tabitha Markham would indeed have been a coup. He had no doubt that she   was being courted, wined and dined by other financial businesses like a   duck on a June bug. But he had practically told her to fuck off once  he  heard Chessy scream in pain and terror. And he couldn't care less  which  financial advisor she decided to go with now. If he lived to be a   hundred, the sound of Chessy's cry would haunt him to his dying day.

"I should let you go then. I still need to shower and change. I haven't been feeling well lately and unfortunately it shows."

Tate was immediately filled with concern. "Is my girl sick? Who's taking care of you? That's my job."

It angered him, this helplessness that he couldn't reach out to his wife   when she needed him most. Chessy didn't fall ill very often at all.  She  always got glowing checkups from her doctor, who announced she was   fitter than the majority of patients he saw.

But the few times a cold had gotten the best of her and one particularly   vicious bout of strep throat, Tate had been within an arm's length the   entire time. She'd wanted to sleep in the guest bedroom because she  was  afraid she would make him sick, but he was having none of that.

Every single night, or day if she were simply taking a nap, he carried   her to bed and tucked her in, ensuring all the pillows were in the exact   position she liked them. And even more generous, he handed over the   remote for the TV in their bedroom.

While she binged on the HGTV channel and watched countless renovation   episodes, Tate's head was always about to explode, but he let her   torture him with her girly shows because he knew how much she enjoyed   them.

She sounded extremely weary now and it alarmed him even more. So help   him, if she didn't show tonight now that he was worried out of his damn   mind, he'd go over there and haul her out of Jensen's house, police be   damned.

"I'll tell you all about it tonight," she said. "I don't want to get into over the phone."                       
       
           



       

Tate's heart lurched. His stomach knotted to the point of pain and   nausea welled in his throat. He had to suck in deeply through his   nostrils so he didn't completely lose it.

"How soon can you be here?" he demanded.

"Uh, well I don't have anything else scheduled. I mean I guess I could   come at any time. I figured I'd come when you were ready to eat."

Tate checked his watch. It was five. Certainly not out of the realm for   preparing dinner. By the time Chessy drove over and they settled into   the kitchen and he started preparations it would be six. Perfect timing.

"Can you head over now?" he asked, trying to keep his enthusiasm at bay   and sound normal even though when it came to Chessy, anything at all to   do with Chessy, normal wasn't part of his vocabulary for sure.

He couldn't wait to finally see Chessy one-on-one for the first time   since the night she'd walked out, when she had been devastated and so   damn fragile looking. As though she'd break if someone stared at her too   hard. And yet he had let a brute of a man put his precious girl  through  the paces, warming her up for when Tate would have taken over.

Chessy could have been seriously injured. For all practical purposes she   had been raped. Just because the bastard hadn't fully penetrated her   didn't mean he hadn't forced himself on her, even as she was screaming   her safe word.

To still his restless mind and whirling thoughts, he began to prepare   the crepes while he waited for her answer. In theory this recipe was   damn good. But it was all in the execution. And Tate wasn't one to ever   follow the letter of a recipe. He always improvised, adding stuff he   liked and experimenting until he got the flavor he wanted. He and Chessy   had always taken turns being the guinea pig and then they'd offer   constructive criticism. Not enough Cajun seasoning. Too much black   pepper. The lobster and crab smelled and tasted too "fishy."

There was no modesty from him when it came to this dish. He and Chessy   could make themselves sick on it, eating way beyond the point where they   were already full. It was always "Oh, I'll just have one more bite,"   and then a moan of pleasure followed by another bite and another  …  Until   they groaned in agony and flopped onto the couch in a vegetative state   and watched mindless reality shows to get their minds off their   miserably full stomachs.

"Yes," Chessy said finally. Was there a hint of excitement in her voice   or was he simply hearing what he wanted. If she had missed him only  half  as much as he was missing her, then he had a shot. "I'll leave in a  few  minutes after I shower and change. If I wait any longer, someone  will  want to take me, and as I said, I'd rather not have an audience  for what  I want to talk about."

Again that tendril of dread curled tighter and tighter around his neck.   "Tell me at least that you're okay. That there's nothing seriously  wrong  with you. Don't leave me to my worst imaginings, Chess. You've  got me  scared shitless."

"I'm fine, Tate. Truly. It's just  …  complicated, which is why I wanted to say it face-to-face."

Whatever got her back home where she belonged, even if it was only for a short time, worked for him.

"Okay then. Head this way. I'm putting together supper now."





TWENTY-FIVE


KYLIE and Joss, as well as Jensen and Dash, faced Chessy with concern as   she prepared to leave to go back  …  home. She still considered it her   home no matter that she hadn't lived there in several weeks. Maybe she'd   always consider it home.

Moreover, when they'd bought the house, she'd picked it out with a   family in mind. It was a huge house for just the two of them. Four   bedrooms, three bathrooms plus a guest room downstairs, space for an   office, two living areas, a formal dining room plus an eat-in kitchen   and an island bar.

In her mind she could so easily see having children and raising them in   that house. Most couples didn't buy their forever home right after   marrying, but Tate had been financially secure enough to purchase the   house and once she'd seen it-and envisioned their future in it-she'd   instantly fallen in love.

Five years later she was pregnant with the child she'd always   desperately wanted but her marriage was in ruins and the house she'd   once dreamed of raising a family in was off-limits. Even if she did end   up getting the house if she and Tate divorced, how could she ever raise   her child in a home that screamed Tate from every corner?

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go over there alone," Dash said firmly.