Until Now

“I got it with a little cream and a little sugar,” Marshall explained. “I didn’t know how you would like it.”

“This is fine.” She stepped toward the front door. “I don’t want to rush you, but if you’re ready to leave...”

“Sure.”

Tamara stepped out the door, which was almost flush with the ground, then waited for Marshall to join her. “Hold this for me?” he asked, offering her the bag with the sandwiches and the coffee tray.

Tamara took the items while he closed the door. She checked out the breadth of his shoulders, clad in a T-shirt this morning, and she noted that he was just as sexy in casual wear as he had been in his suit yesterday.

He turned to face her, and she quickly averted her eyes.

He took the coffee and bag from her and then started toward the car with an easy and sexy gait. Tamara followed him to the sleek, black BMW. She didn’t remember being in it last night, but she must have been.

What else had she done?

Marshall opened the passenger door for her, then went around and got in on the driver’s side. Tamara was about to get into the car when she saw a cushion on the seat covered with blond hair.

“What?” Marshall asked, looking up at her.

“Is that dog hair?”

Marshall grabbed the cushion and tossed it into the backseat. “Sorry, yeah.”

Tamara looked around anxiously, half expecting some giant fur ball to be lunging toward her. “You have a dog?”

“It’s a buddy’s dog. He’s gone for the weekend, asked me to check in on him. So I picked Sherlock up this morning and took her to the park so she could run laps with me.”

Tamara still stood there, not getting into the car.

“I already brought Sherlock home,” Marshall said. “What, you don’t like dogs?”

“Not particularly,” Tamara admitted. She had delivered flyers as a teen. More than one dog had chased her or barked savagely at her.

“Well, Sherlock’s at home.” Marshall dusted the leather seat to get any stray dog hairs off. “Will you just get in the car?”

With a sigh, Tamara did just that. Marshall then started the car, and loud hip-hop immediately blared through the speakers. Marshall reached for the volume control and turned it down.

Tamara said nothing, just sipped her coffee as a way of avoiding having to speak. She was desperate to find out what had happened the night before, and also terrified. She knew it was very likely that she had behaved inappropriately, but she was embarrassed to ask.

Perhaps there was a part of her that needed that kind of wild encounter with someone to help make her feel desirable again. It had been a while since she’d been with any man. And as much as it was clearly out of character for her to engage in a one-night stand, obviously, on some level, she’d needed to get it on with someone.

“So,” Marshall began, “did you have a good time yesterday?”

Tamara’s stomach twisted. Was he talking about the wedding? Or afterward? Tamara looked at him briefly and then averted her gaze. “If you mean at the wedding,” she said pointedly, “yes, it was lovely.”

“What do you think I mean?” Marshall asked.

“I—I don’t... I didn’t...” Tamara’s voice trailed off.

“I’m a trained investigator,” Marshall told her. When Tamara glanced at him, she saw that he was giving her a curious look. “It’s obvious there’s something else on your mind.”

Tamara said nothing.

“Tamara?” She could feel Marshall’s eyes on her. “Why don’t you tell—”

“Look,” she interrupted him, releasing a heavy breath as she stared at him. “I’ll make this clear. Whatever happened last night, it can’t happen again. I mean, here I am in your car after a night at your house that I don’t even remember. This isn’t like me. I do—” She faltered. “I do remember kissing you. And then...I wake up half-naked in your bed?”

Marshall’s eyes widened, as though intrigued. “You don’t remember what happened?”

“No. Which tells me I obviously wasn’t in my right mind. And you...you should have known better, even if I didn’t.”

“So that’s why you seem on edge,” he said, sounding as though he finally got it.

For someone who touted himself as a trained investigator, he was also a little dense.

“Of course that’s why I’m on edge,” Tamara responded, her words a little harsher than she’d intended. “I’m not the kind of woman you typically date.”

“How would you know the kind of woman I typically date?”

“It’s obvious.”

“Really?” Marshall sounded amused. “How is it obvious?”

Tamara had started something, something she wished she hadn’t. She should have just kept her mouth shut. Moved on from the mistake of the night before and forgotten it ever happened.

“Come on. You say something like that, you’ve got to explain yourself. I met you last night. How on earth can you act as if you know me?”

“Didn’t you start off at the wedding with someone else?” Tamara raised an eyebrow as if she had just scored a match point.

“My cousin, Renee. I told you that.”

“Right,” Tamara scoffed. “She looked like she just came from the Playboy mansion.”

“She is beautiful. And she’s also my cousin. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Tamara glanced at Marshall. He appeared truthful. Which only made her feel even dumber than getting so drunk the night before that she didn’t remember a thing.

But the truth was, she knew of Marshall’s reputation. He could pretend to be a choirboy, and maybe he had changed, but life had taught her that people didn’t just transform into better versions of themselves. She had married Patrick, ignoring his early bouts of jealousy, thinking he would calm down once he felt secure with the reality that she was his wife. Instead, Patrick’s behavior had only intensified.

Marshall had always had a reputation as being a ladies’ man, and she didn’t imagine that that would have changed throughout the years. The fact that she’d ended up at his house, in his bed, did more to prove he was the same man he’d been thirteen years ago.

“The fact that you took me home last night speaks volumes,” Tamara said.

“Does it, now?” Marshall asked.

“In my state of mind? Of course it does.” She still didn’t understand how she’d gotten so drunk, but that was a moot point now. “But I’m just letting you know that whatever happened, it was a one-time thing. I’m not the sort of woman who hooks up with men for one-night stands. That is totally not me.”

Marshall nodded slowly. “I see.”