Until Now

Spotting Deanna speaking with a couple of young females at the edge of the dance floor, Tamara rose from the table and started toward her. Seeing her approach, Deanna’s eyes lit up, and she stretched open her arms in the offer of a hug.

“Tamara,” Deanna said in a singsong voice as Tamara walked into her embrace. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course,” Tamara told her. As she pulled back, she took Deanna’s hands in hers and squeezed. “Congratulations, Dee. I’m so happy for you and Eric. He seems like a great guy.”

“Thank you.” Deanna’s smile was as bright as the sun. “He is a great guy. An old friend I never saw as anything more than a friend until I came back to Cleveland and we got to know each other.”

“You both look very happy.”

“We are. And I can hardly believe it. When I came back to Cleveland, I never thought that I would find love. In fact, that was the last thing on my mind. Yet, here I am. Married.”

“Let me see the ring.” Deanna extended her left hand, and Tamara eyed the stunning engagement ring and wedding band encrusted with diamonds around the entire band. “Gorgeous.”

“Thank you. Of course, it’s not about the ring. It’s about the man.” Her eyes lit up as she glanced beyond Tamara’s shoulder. “And there’s my baby now.”

Deanna looked up at her new husband with a loving smile, and he grinned down at her as he came beside her and slipped an arm around her waist. It was a beautiful moment between two people who loved each other, and reminded Tamara that relationships were fundamentally good. She had just been with the wrong man.

Tamara extended her hand to Eric. “Eric, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Tamara, Callie’s best friend.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to meet you, and thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for having me. Your ceremony was beautiful, and the reception has been exceptional.”

“Thank you,” Eric said.

“Where are you two heading for your honeymoon?” Tamara asked.

They both looked at each other, as if determining who would answer. A moment later, Deanna spoke. “Well, we wanted to do something different than the typical Caribbean honeymoon. Eric has always wanted to go to Scotland, so that’s where we’re headed. We’re going for two weeks to tour the country. We’ll even be staying in an old castle and everything.”

Eric pulled Deanna close. “I’m not the type of guy who likes to just sit on the beach for seven days. When I want rest and relaxation, I go to my parents’ cottage on the lake. I wanted our honeymoon to be an adventure.”

“It will be. As long as we’re together.” Deanna looked like the happiest woman alive. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go.”

“Well, congratulations again. You both look very happy, and that’s what matters.”

Tamara was walking away when suddenly she felt a hand on her arm. She turned to see that it was Deanna who had touched her. Deanna walked a few more steps with her, out of earshot of Eric, and asked, “How did everything go in Florida?”

Tamara made a face as she shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Patrick got what he deserved—a forty-two-year prison sentence. And I got my closure. But it was emotionally draining for me and for Michael. Of course, Patrick was livid. He uttered more threats as he was dragged out of the courtroom, saying that he’ll get out on appeal and then I’ll be sorry.” Tamara waved a dismissive hand. “But I’m not afraid of him.”

“Good,” Deanna told her. “With what he did, there’s no way he’s going to get out of prison. He can’t hurt you any more. And if he ever does live to see freedom, he’ll be old and certainly won’t be dumb enough to try to come after you.”

“I know. I’m not worried about him.”

“That’s good,” Deanna told her. “I just wanted to add that I know you might be feeling out of sorts and uneasy, but we’re all here for you. I went through my own scare with a crazy ex—nothing as serious as your situation, of course—but still, there’s life after an abusive relationship.” Now Deanna smiled. “For me, coming back to Cleveland was what led to my ultimate happiness.”

“Are you trying to forecast that I’m going to find love here, too?” Tamara asked, flashing Deanna a look of mock skepticism.

“It’s my wedding day. I guess it’s fair to say I’m full of hopeful optimism.”

Behind Deanna, Tamara noticed Marshall enter the banquet hall. He’d eaten dinner, then left, and Tamara had thought he wasn’t coming back.

Not that she was keeping tabs on him.

“Basically, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” Deanna continued.

“I’m good. Actually, I’m happy to be back here. Over the last year, I’ve gone through a lot of counseling. Both me and Michael. I feel strong. And I’m ready to make changes in my life for the better.”

“Good.”

The song changed from an upbeat tune to a slow ballad, and Deanna instantly turned. “I should get back to my groom.”

“Of course.”

Tamara watched Deanna hurry back to Eric, remembering how happy she had been on her own wedding day. How in love. How she had wholeheartedly believed her marriage to Patrick would last forever.

Stop thinking about Patrick, she told herself. This is Deanna and Eric’s day, and they’re going to have a wonderful life together. Tamara was certain of that. Just looking at them, she knew they had that inexplicable X factor she and Patrick hadn’t. The ease of communication, the obvious respect. A gentle kind of love that would carry them through the hard times.

“Can I have this dance?”

Tamara turned. And her heart slammed against her rib cage when she saw Marshall standing there.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“May I have this dance?” Marshall repeated and extended a hand to her.

Well, this was a surprise. He hadn’t given her more than a fleeting glance after the ceremony, and he had passed her by when everyone had been mingling at the reception hall. She had, however, caught his eye more than once, but the fact that he hadn’t made a point of saying hello had led her to believe that he wasn’t interested in talking to her.

And now here he was, asking for a dance.

“You want to dance with me?” Tamara asked.

“Why do you seem so surprised? A beautiful woman like you? What man in his right mind wouldn’t?”

Tamara narrowed her eyes. Didn’t he remember her? All this time, she had expected him to approach her to say hello. When he hadn’t, she’d assumed it was because of his date. Some women got irrationally jealous if their man talked to another female. But now, as he looked down at her, Tamara figured that he must not remember her. Surely if he knew who she was, he would address her with a sense of familiarity.

“Don’t make me beg,” Marshall continued, the corners of his lips lifting in a charming smile. “This is a wedding. I assure you, I’m not some creep from off the street.”

That confirmed it. He had no idea who she was. It was a little bit humorous, in fact. He had gone after her cousin with such steadfast determination that he had obviously taken no note of her.

“All right.” Tamara took his proffered hand, smirking with the secret knowledge that he was clueless.

Marshall led her the short distance to the dance floor and then took her in his arms and pulled her close. Her breasts flattened against the hard wall of his chest, and the unexpected sensation of his body against hers caused her breathing to halt for a few seconds.

What a physique he had. His chest was muscular and strong, and so were his shoulders where she’d brought her hands to rest. She hadn’t been able to see his sculpted figure beneath his suit, but she could certainly feel how fit he was now that they were dancing.

Of course he had a magnificent body. A man like Marshall would make sure to stay in tip-top shape for the ladies.

He pulled her a little closer and lowered his hand down her back, causing a shiver to dance down her spine. His hand stayed a respectable distance above her behind, but the warmth of it emanated through her dress and across her skin. And when his fingertips urged her even closer, she felt a startling flush.

It had to be the wine, she told herself. She’d had a couple of glasses with dinner. Clearly, the alcohol was getting to her head.

“See? No reason to fear me,” he said into her ear, his voice low and deep.

And as if he had whispered sweet nothings in her ear, she felt another flush.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the wine. Maybe it was the fact that Marshall was a manly man, one who knew how to touch a woman, how to look at her and make her feel incredibly beautiful. That was all a part of his charm, and clearly Tamara wasn’t immune to it. And that surprised her.

Though maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. Obviously, she wasn’t dead. A woman would have to be blind and without any senses at all to not know that Marshall was an attractive man. More than attractive. He was fine.

And not only did he look good and feel good, he smelled good.

Tamara’s eyes widened with alarm. Why on earth was she thinking about the fact that he smelled good?

“I hear you’re from Cleveland,” he said, distracting her from her thoughts. “How is it I’ve never seen you around before?”

“You’ve seen everyone within the city limits?” Tamara challenged.

He eased back to look down at her. “Someone like you I would have noticed.”

Tamara leaned her head forward so that he wouldn’t see her face and rolled her eyes. He was so predictable. Did every player in the world have to comment on how odd it was that an attractive woman had escaped his prowl?

“I didn’t exactly look like this when I moved from Cleveland the summer after my freshman year of college. I was too skinny, had no fashion sense. I didn’t attract a lot of male attention.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

Tamara eyed him, thinking it ironic that he didn’t realize his very words were proving her point. Obviously, her very boring appearance had to be why he hadn’t noticed her when he was dating Gloria. True, she hadn’t met him many times, but it was clear that his encounters with the shy, gawky kid she’d been had not been memorable.

One of the reasons Tamara had been drawn to Patrick when they’d met was because he had seemed smitten with her. Patrick had been older, worldly, and saw her as a diamond in the rough in a sea of more sophisticated women. Ironic, when Tamara had started to become a more confident person, Patrick hadn’t liked it.

“I didn’t hang out much,” Tamara added. “I was more of a bookworm. I didn’t do the club scene.”

“Maybe that explains it,” Marshall said. “You must have been hidden away somewhere. Your father was probably afraid to let you out into the world.”

Tamara rolled her eyes again. So he really had no clue.

A few seconds later, when the song ended, Tamara began to ease back. “Well, thanks for the—”

“Oh, no no no. I’m not ready to let you go yet. The music is still slow. We can keep dancing.”

She eyed him with curiosity as the Charlie Wilson song began to play. “Seriously, don’t you think your date will get upset?” Tamara hadn’t seen the woman in a while, but she didn’t have to see her to know that a second dance with another woman would no doubt irk his date.

“My date?” Marshall looked confused. “Oh, my cousin. She left.”

“Your cousin?” Tamara asked doubtfully.

“So you noticed me,” Marshall said, sounding amused.

“Who wouldn’t?” Tamara countered. “Tell me, was her dress painted on?”

Marshall chuckled, a throaty sound that was all too enticing. “Renee likes attention, I’ll give you that. She had to head home right after dinner. She agreed to accompany me because I didn’t have a date.”

Now Tamara was the one who laughed. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who has a hard time finding a date. Unless, of course, you’ve gone through all the women in Cleveland...”

“Ah!” Marshall exclaimed, his lips widening in a grin. “I like you. You’re funny.”

She wasn’t trying to be funny. She was diplomatically letting him know that she knew exactly what kind of man he was.

But the interchange between them was becoming more interesting by the second, and she was suddenly feeling a little mischievous.

“So, what’s your name?” she asked, her voice taking on a little flirtatious subtext.

“Marshall,” he answered. “And I’ve already heard your name. Tamara.”

“That means you’ve inquired about me?”

“Like I said, I noticed you. And I understand that you’re back in town for a while.”

“You’ve certainly done your homework.” Tamara looked up at him and gave him a quizzical look, and even batted her eyelashes. She would play his game. Play it so she could get the satisfaction of rejecting him.

“Someone like you—of course I did my homework.”

“My, is this how you are with all the women? Total silver tongue?”

“You’ve got me all wrong,” Marshall said. “If you’re implying that I’m simply a sweet-talker, that’s not me.”

Again, Tamara eased back to look at him. “You’re telling me that you haven’t broken your fair share of hearts?”

“I’ve had my heart broken, too.”

Yeah right, Tamara thought. Men like Marshall didn’t get their hearts broken, because they didn’t have a heart. When it came to relationships, all that mattered were the notches on their bedposts. Men like Marshall stayed with a girl until he grew bored with her. Then quickly moved on.

His hand went to her upper back and urged her closer. Tamara’s cheek pressed against pecs that were rounded with muscles. And—she couldn’t help noting—a perfect place for a woman to lay her head.

Good grief, what was wrong with her?

The second song ended, and Tamara slid her hands down Marshall’s arms and began to step backward. “Again, thank you for the dance,” Tamara said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

She saw Marshall’s eyes widen with lust, and she had to inwardly smile. Yeah, she had his number. All a woman had to do was bat her eyelashes and give him a little bit of feminine charm, and he would eat it up.

“You’re leaving me already?” Marshall asked once she had maneuvered herself out of his arms.

“Fast song. And I have two left feet.” She smiled sweetly.

He came to stand beside her and leaned into her. “Let’s go to my table, then...to talk.”

“Thank you,” Tamara reiterated firmly. “The dance was nice.”

“But I haven’t even begun to get to know you.”

Tamara simply shrugged, then started to walk away.

Marshall fell into step beside her. “I see. You’re going to make me chase you.”

“Aren’t there some other attractive women here that you’d like to get to know?”

“The only woman I’m interested in getting to know here is you. Trust me on that.”

Tamara already knew his game. He liked a challenge. He had chased Gloria until she finally gave in, and once she had surrendered to him, that had been it. The thrill for Marshall had been gone.

“I’ll see you around, Marshall.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.”

But when Marshall placed a hand on her arm, Tamara shrugged out of his touch and kept walking. Seconds later, she turned to look over her shoulder and saw him standing and staring after her with his hands placed on his hips and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

Poor Marshall. He clearly had no clue how to handle rejection.

Tamara chuckled as she made her way over to Callie.

Chapter 3

“Tamara,” Marshall said as he pulled out a chair and took a seat beside Nigel. “I want to know everything about her.”

Nigel looked at him askance. “Didn’t I just see you dancing with her?”

“Yes. But it ended too soon.”

“Ahh, rejected,” Nigel said with a grin.

“Feels more like a game to me,” Marshall said. Tamara had undoubtedly flirted with him. And now she wanted to see if he would chase her. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s been Callie’s friend for years. She’s the one who Callie had to go to Florida to testify for.”

“Ahh, that’s right. The one with the crazy ex.”

“So I wouldn’t say she’s playing any cat-and-mouse games. I seriously doubt she’s ready for any of that.” Nigel looked him dead in the eye. “You’re interested?”

“Can you blame me?” Marshall looked in her direction. “Look at her. She’s gorgeous.”

“And she’s off-limits,” Nigel said.

Marshall jerked his gaze back to Nigel, frowning. “She just ended her marriage. You telling me she’s already dating someone else?”

“No, I mean she’s off-limits to you.”

Marshall began to smile. “Should I be offended?”

“What I’m trying to say is that she’s had a rough year. She’s just closed the door on her abusive ex-husband. She’s not the typical girl you like to hook up with, the kind who’s interested in having a hot fling and nothing more.”

Marshall nodded. “So basically you’re telling me I should stay away from her because you think I’d hurt her.”

“Not on purpose. But considering I doubt she wants what you want, yeah, I see the risk of her getting hurt.”

“No worries, Nigel. I’m not planning to hurt her. I’d just like to get to know her a little bit better.”

Nigel gave him a knowing look.

“You telling me I can’t even talk to her?”

“You’re a big boy. I’d never tell you that. But she is Callie’s friend, which means I want to look out for her. She’s got to be vulnerable right now, so I would take that into consideration.”

“I’m your best friend, Nigel. You know I’m not some evil guy.”

“Of course not. If you were, we wouldn’t be friends. Just...keep in mind what I said. She’s fresh out of her marriage, so I don’t imagine she’d be interested in anything. But I do know that I don’t want to see her hurt any further.”

“Duly noted.”

Marshall looked in her direction again and caught her looking at him. She quickly averted her eyes. He smiled, because he’d caught her looking.

Oh, yeah, she was interested in him. At the very least, she liked what she saw. She hadn’t told him to get lost, and then there had been that whole flirtatious exchange. Marshall knew when a woman found him attractive.

But she was vulnerable. He could deal with the fact that she’d been hurt.

Because he wasn’t planning to cause her any more pain.

In fact, his thoughts were far from that.

* * *

Half an hour later, the crowd was cheering as Eric made a production of taking the garter belt off of his bride’s thigh. With Deanna seated in a chair, Eric teased her as he slipped his hands beneath her gown, much to the crowd’s delight, and lowered the blue garter. As people whistled and clapped, he gripped the garter with his teeth once it was past her knee and dragged it down to her ankle.

The crowd went wild.

Deanna blushed as Eric finally pulled the garter over her toes. Then he jumped to his feet, triumphant.

“All the single men, get ready for the garter toss,” the DJ announced.

The eligible men went to the dance floor behind Eric and vied for the best position to catch the garter. Tamara and the guests laughed as Eric pretended he was going to throw it one way—more than once—before ultimately tossing it over his shoulder high to his far right.

Marshall, who’d actually been standing just left of Eric about ten feet back, leaped so far to the right that he was able to snag the material with the tips of his fingers. Victorious, he secured it in his fist and did a little dance while the other men around him accepted defeat.

“Of course,” Tamara muttered.

“What was that?” Callie asked her.

“Nothing.”

“And now it’s time for the single ladies. All single ladies to the dance floor for the bouquet toss!”

When Tamara didn’t move, Callie made a face at her. “Aren’t you getting up?”

Tamara scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Tamara. It’ll be fun.”

Tamara shook her head. “There are plenty of single ladies getting up already.”

“Most of whom look too young to get married. Get your butt up there.”

“It’s not nec—”

“Last call for all the single ladies to the dance floor,” the DJ said. “Don’t be shy.”

“You heard him.” Callie got up from her chair and approached Tamara.

“What are you doing?” Tamara protested as Callie reached for her hand.

“Just get up. Come on. This is the fun part.”

With Callie physically taking her hand, Tamara sighed and stood. Those around her cheered as she made her way to the dance floor.

As if she wanted to catch the bouquet after Marshall had caught the garter.

Fine. I can stand here, but I don’t have to be the one to catch the cursed thing. While some of the teenagers around her looked supereager, Tamara resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Then the music began, and as Eric had done, Deanna teased the teen girls and adult women by pretending she was about to release the bouquet. And then she did.

And it sailed in the air straight toward Tamara.

Reflexively—so the bouquet didn’t hit her in the face—Tamara caught it. And then people began to cheer, and she realized what she had done.

But the realization truly hit her when she looked to the edge of the dance floor and saw Marshall standing there, grinning at her as if he had just won the lottery.

“Give them a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ said with enthusiasm. People clapped. “And welcome the couple to the dance floor to share a dance!”

The guests cheered and whistled their encouragement for Tamara and Marshall to dance. And then Marshall began to approach her.

Tamara’s stomach sank. Good Lord, would she never escape the man?

“So we meet again,” Marshall said as he stopped before her. “How fitting.”

Tamara swallowed. What she wanted to do was flee. But with all of the wedding guests watching with smiles on their faces, that was the last thing she could do.

The DJ began to play Eric Benét’s “I Wanna Be Loved,” and there was nothing Tamara could do but accept her fate when Marshall slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close.

Her stomach fluttered, and her body tensed.

“That’s right,” the DJ said, urging them on, “get to know each other.”

All eyes were on them as if the guests believed that Cleveland’s newest couple had just been crowned.

“Smile,” Marshall told her. “People are going to start wondering what’s wrong.”

Tamara inhaled a shaky breath and then tried her best to force a smile. She had enjoyed the dancing when it had been on her terms, but now it was as if fate was laughing at her.

“You’re as stiff as a board,” Marshall whispered. “What happened to the woman I was dancing with earlier tonight?”

That woman had been playing a game, or so she’d thought.

“I’m not exactly comfortable with public attention,” Tamara said by way of explanation.

“It’s just a dance. Not a date with the executioner.”

Tamara wished that his voice wasn’t so deep and sultry. And that he wouldn’t whisper into her ear the way he did, as if they had developed some sort of comfort level already.

She tried to ease back as far as possible without looking uncomfortable, and when the song came to an end, she was relieved. It was clear to her that she’d lit Marshall’s fire, so to speak, and that he was interested.

“Excuse me,” she said and stepped away from him.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need a drink,” she told him. She felt as if her whole body was burning up.

“I’ll join you.”

Tamara headed toward the punch table. She had abstained from the cocktail when she’d arrived at the reception, but with Marshall on her heels, she poured a full cup and gulped it down.

She saw Marshall looking at her with humor in his eyes as he slowly poured a cup and sipped the beverage. Humor and determination.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Tamara put her empty cup on the edge of the table and plastered a smile on her face. “Nature calls.”