Taking the Plunge Read online

  “And he’s humble about it,” Sydney said with a smile.

  Coen grabbed her chair and pulled her closer to him. “I’m humble, baby.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? You’re the cockiest guy I know.”

  “I’m only cocky with you. And that isn’t a bad thing. I know what you like,” Coen answered.

  Derek wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Where are we watching the game? Tully’s?”

  “It’s too loud,” Henry said quickly.

  “I guess we can use my place,” Coen said.

  “I have to study,” Sydney said quickly. “The TV is too loud.”

  Coen rolled his eyes. “You always have to study.”

  “Maybe you should try it,” she snapped.

  “It’s hard to when my wife is a supermodel,” he said as he leaned close to her.

  She tucked her hair behind her ear then smiled.

  “You can come to my place,” Thatcher said.

  “Cool!” Derek said. “Where do you live?”

  “The art gallery,” Thatcher answered.

  “You live there?” Henry asked.

  Thatcher nodded. “The top floor is my living quarters. I literally work from home.”

  “Thanks for the invite,” Coen said. “I’m excited to go to a real bachelor pad. We all got women or roommates.”

  “Well, Nancy practically lives there now,” Sydney said.

  “Kick her out,” Henry said. “The men need to drink beer and hang out in a man cave.”

  Ren rolled her eyes. “You’re the most sensitive and compassionate man I’ve ever met.”

  “I’m only like that with you,” Henry said quickly.

  Derek looked at them then rolled his eyes. “So tomorrow, then?”

  “Tomorrow,” Thatcher said.

  After they had their lunch, Nancy and Thatcher returned to his house. She walked downstairs to get back to work and he returned to his office, splashing paint everywhere. She sat at the desk and went through his emails, sending price quotes for some of his pieces and updating his website. It wasn’t difficult work, but it was time-consuming. Now she understood why Thatcher hired an assistant to deal with the forefront.

  When someone opened the front door, she was disappointed because she still had several assignments to do. She didn’t work on Friday since they were traveling and the work quickly piled up.

  When she looked up, she saw her father looking at her, wearing one of his ridiculously overpriced designer suits. They were both silent as they stared at each other. Nancy tried not to think about him since the last time they spoke, but his face kept resurfacing in her mind. She was angry and hurt by him. She couldn’t shake the feeling.

  He approached her desk with his hands in his pockets. “Hello.”

  She didn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

  He moved his feet, clearly uncomfortable. Her father looked at the ground for a long time before he looked at her. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “We had ten tears to talk. You should have used your time more wisely.”

  “I came here to apologize. You haven’t returned my calls or my voicemails. I’ve been worried, Nancy. I’ve never been more scared my whole life.”

  She stood up and glared at him, feeling the anger explode. “Let’s not do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “You don’t love me and you don’t care about me. I get it and I’m fine with it. I know a guilty conscious has brought you here, nothing else. I don’t need you in my life so please leave. I don’t care about you and I don’t love you either. The feeling between us is mutual.”

  He averted his gaze and stepped back. Her father said nothing for a long time. “Nancy, of course I love you and care about you. You’re my daughter.”

  She grabbed a vase on the table and threw it at him. He stepped out of the way and it shattered into pieces. He looked at her, stunned.

  “GET THE HELL OUT!”

  He raised his hands in the air, trying to surrender.

  “You’ll never understand how much you’ve hurt me. I gave you plenty of chances to get it right but you never took it. I’m not waiting anymore. I don’t give a shit if we’re family. You’re a greedy, cheating, sleazebag. I want you to leave my life and never come back. I have all the family I’m ever going to need. Now go.”

  “Nancy—”

  “I SAID LEAVE!”

  He lowered his hands to his side and gave her a sympathetic look. His eyes coated with tears. “Please.”

  “Fuck you,” she snapped.

  Thatcher came out of the hallway, running. He was wearing his work clothes, covered in paint. “Nancy, are you okay?” He looked at the scene and saw the shattered glass and her father standing before her.

  Nancy ignored him. “I asked you to go. You aren’t welcome here.”

  Her father turned to Thatcher. “Please. Please help me.”

  Thatcher said nothing, staring at him.

  Nancy stared him down, clenching her fists at her sides.

  Thatcher grabbed his arm and led him to the door. “I’ll talk to her. But I think you should leave for now.”

  He nodded. “Please help me.”

  Thatcher nodded. “I’ll try.”

  Her father left and Thatcher closed the door behind him.

  Nancy came around the desk, her arms swinging. She was pissed at her dad but she was livid with Thatcher. “I can’t believe you told him where I was.” She shook her head, glaring at him. “I fucking trusted you.”

  “Nancy, he’s been calling me for weeks, begging me to tell him something. I didn’t tell him where you lived and I didn’t tell him you worked here. He obviously figured it out and came to talk to you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was calling you?”

  “Because I knew you would get upset.”

  “Fuck you, Thatcher.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that,” he snapped.

  “And you aren’t helping him. You’re on my side. I don’t want to talk to him ever again. I mean it.”

  “You told me he doesn’t love you or care about you. That’s obviously wrong. He’s been checking on you this entire time and he even came down here to talk to you. Give him a chance.”

  She shook her head then turned away.

  He grabbed her arm. “Nancy—”

  “Leave me alone, Thatcher.” She jerked her arm back, hitting him in the face and pushing against the wall. His head collided with a picture frame and the glass shattered, falling on the floor. They both stilled after the impact. Nancy looked at him, her eyes wide. “That was an accident. I’m so sorry.”

  Thatcher placed his hand over the back of his head. When he brought his fingers back, they were covered in blood.

  “I’m so sorry!” She came to him but he stepped back, not letting her touch him. “Thatcher, I didn’t mean to push you.”

  He kept his eyes closed and breathed through the anger. His body was shaking, his muscles tensing. “I think you should leave, Nancy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thatcher!”

  He turned and disappeared down the hallway.

  She stayed rooted to the spot, hating herself for hurting him. Nancy was still angry that he betrayed her, but her concern for him outshined her emotion. She followed him down the hallway and walked up the stairs.

  Thatcher was in the bathroom, running the water over his head in the sink. Blood dripped down and dyed the water red. She came behind him then gently touched his back, trying not to scare him. He flinched but didn’t pull his head away. She ran her hand over the cut, pulling his hair away.

  Thatcher stood up then turned off the faucet. Water was dripping down his face and neck, and his eyes were wide with anger. Unaccustomed to the severe response, she stepped back.

  “It was an accident,” she repeated. “I would never hurt you on purpose.”

  He stepped forward, his arms hanging by his side. “I asked you to leave. I want you to leav
e.”

  She took a deep breath, letting the words sting. “I’m just upset that—”

  “I know why you’re upset. We just talked about it second ago,” he snapped.

  She flinched at his anger.

  “In case you don’t remember, my dad died. He’s dead, Nancy. I’ll never see him again, hear his voice, or show him a painting. Your dad is still alive. Obviously, he fucked up and made some mistakes, but he clearly wants to make things right again. Don’t you dare yell at me for trying to do what’s best for you. Good people lose their way and make mistakes. It’s called human nature. He realized his mistake and wants to make it up to you. How dare you get angry at me for helping you. I want what’s best for you—always.

  “How would you feel if I held all your sins against you? I’ve never asked you how many guys you slept with because I don’t want to know. That’s in your past and it shouldn’t affect our present. You dated Derek, who was a complete ass to you, and you picked a major just for job security. Those aren’t flattering qualities, Nancy. But I’m not going to think less of you because of them. I gave you a chance because I love you. Now give your dad a chance to make it right.

  “Without trust there is no relationship, Nancy. I’ve said this to you three times now. I would never do something that wasn’t good for you. You keep doubting me and I’m sick of it. I’m not upset that you slammed my head into a wall and got a piece of glass stuck in my skull. I’m pissed that you immediately attacked me, yelling at me like I did something terrible to you. I deserve your respect. I more than earned it.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the window, avoiding the intense look in his eyes.

  He pressed a towel to the back of his head then looked at it, seeing the blood. “Now please leave.”

  “Thatcher, I’m sorry.” The tears fell from her eyes.

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I’m too upset to talk to you right now.”

  “Can I at least help you? You need bandages.”

  “I can manage,” he snapped.

  “Thatcher, please.”

  He looked at her, anger still brewing in his eyes. “Fine.” He turned around and returned to the bathroom, sitting on the toilet.

  She grabbed the first aid kit then cut the hair away around the cut. There was blood on the strands and she wiped her hands then poured alcohol into the opening. Thatcher didn’t react as she placed a cotton ball against it. He stared straight ahead, not speaking. She grabbed a few bandages and covered the cut, pulling the rest of his hair down so it was covered. She washed her hands then put the kit away.

  “Now get out,” he snapped.

  “Thatcher, I’m sorry.”

  “No you aren’t. You’re just saying that because you’re scared I’ll leave you. Once again, you don’t trust me.”

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror and took a deep breath.

  He stood up then left the bathroom, slamming his bedroom door shut. She knew that was her cue to leave. Nancy grabbed her purse then left the house, crying the entire ride home. When she got inside, she crawled into bed then cried to herself, hating herself for hurting Thatcher. Remembering the blood on her hands just made her cry harder. Eventually she fell asleep and woke up hours later.

  She pulled on one of his shirts then walked into the living room, lying on the couch with a blanket. Nancy never felt worse than she did now. It was late, past ten, but she didn’t feel like sleeping. Instead, she stared at the ceiling, a few tears dripping down her cheek.

  A knock on her door made her sit up. She wiped the tears away and sniffed before she approached the door. When she looked through the peephole, she saw Thatcher standing on the other side. Relieved, she opened it and looked at him, not caring that she just wore a t-shirt and her underwear.

  He looked at her, leaning against the wall. “Since you don’t have a phone, or choose not to use it, I decided to come over here and check on you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling disappointed. “Oh. Well, I’m fine.”

  “Please turn on your phone so I can call you if I need to.”

  She nodded.

  He turned around and walked away.

  “Thatcher, please,” she begged.

  He stopped and turned around.

  “Don’t go. I’ll do anything to make you stay. I’ll tell you I’m sorry a thousand times if I have to.”

  Thatcher stared at her for a long time before he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when he walked inside.

  His hands wrapped around her waist then he picked her up, holding her to his chest. He carried her to the bedroom then laid her down, moving on top of her. Thatcher pulled her underwear off then pulled his shirt off, tossing it on the ground. Nancy unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them to his ankles. When he was naked, he moved on top of her then pinned her legs back, slipping inside her without preamble.

  She gripped his back. “Oh my god…”

  He moved into her quickly, faster than he ever had before. His face was pressed close to hers, and his hips worked as he slid inside her repeatedly.

  Nancy couldn’t believe how good it felt. Thatcher was right when he said it wasn’t anything like sex. With him, it was totally different.

  His cock made sex noises as it moved into her, getting soaked in her wet pussy. After a moment, he went faster, making her bed shake with the momentum of his quick thrusts.

  She opened her mouth, moaning and sighing as the feel of his swollen cock made her pussy light on fire. “Thatcher…”

  He squeezed her legs as he moved harder, making her center feel tender even after the orgasm was over. Thatcher looked into her eyes as his movements became irregular. He bucked inside her a few times as he released. He moaned, his lips slightly open.

  Thatcher pulled out then lied beside her.

  She moved to his chest, holding him tightly. “I’m sorry.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Can we talk about it without you pushing me into a wall now?”

  She sat up and looked at him. “It was an accident. I swear.”

  Thatcher’s hand glided through her hair. “I know. I’m just teasing you.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “I would never hurt you on purpose. I love you.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I know that too.”

  Nancy lied down beside him. “How’s your head?”

  “It still hurts a little.”

  “Did you take enough pain pills?”

  “I didn’t take any.”

  “Why?”

  “I just avoid it unless absolutely necessary.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “It’s harsh on the body. I do natural remedies as much as possible.”

  “You’re such a hippie,” she blurted.

  “That’s completely true.”

  Her hands moved down his chest, feeling the muscle. “That was some good sex.”

  “You can’t go wrong with make-up sex.”

  “Maybe we should fight more often.”

  He smiled. “I guess we can start a few wars.”

  “Thank you for coming over,” she whispered.

  “I was worried about you. I’m sorry I was so mean earlier.”

  “You don’t need to apologize, Thatcher. I knew you were upset. You had every right to be.”

  He nodded. “I think you should talk to your dad.”

  “No.”

  “Nancy,” he pressed.

  “I understand your point of view, but no, it’s not going to happen.”

  Thatcher sighed. “I think you should hear him out. If he says everything you’ve wanted to hear, you should give him a new start. If he doesn’t stick with his word, then turn your back on him. If he does keep his word, you can salvage the relationship you used to love.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t handle it if he hurt me again.”

  He stared at her. “Now I understand your h
esitance. You’re protecting yourself.”

  She nodded.

  “I think you should take the risk, Nancy. He’s been calling me every day, asking about you. He even went to the university so he could speak to you but you already withdrew from the school, which was another surprise to him. He couldn’t figure out where you lived and he was growing desperate. I kept your secrets, Nancy. I’m sure he came to the house because he knew you would show up eventually. He seems determined to get his daughter back.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “You’ll regret if you don’t. He’s your father.”

  She stared at the ceiling. “Only if you are there.”

  “So, that’s a yes?”

  “I guess.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m only doing this because of you, Thatcher. If he messes up, I’m gone and I’m never looking back.”

  “And I’ll accept that if the event comes to pass.”

  She closed her eyes, feeling his warm body against hers. “Thank you for putting up with me. I know I’m damaged goods.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll put you back together.”

  “You already did.”

  27

  Thatcher had the guys over for the game and they sat in the living room, watching the TV while they drank their beer. Thatcher bought pizza for his guests, but he made himself a salad wrap for dinner. The guys didn’t question him or tease him about it. They probably didn’t notice.

  Nancy stayed in the office while she worked on a painting. When she was done, she walked into the living room and sat in Thatcher’s lap, straddling his hips. She kissed him, rubbing her nose against his, while the game still played on the television.

  Thatcher moved his lips to ear. “Can we turn it down for now?”

  She pulled away, surprised by the request. “What?”

  He returned his mouth to her ear. “I know Derek is supportive of your love for me, but he has his limits. We can get frisky when they leave.”

  She sighed while she looked at him, realizing he was right. Nancy moved to the spot next to him and caught Derek glancing at them. His eyes returned to the TV like he hadn’t been watching. Nancy grabbed Thatcher’s beer, which was full, and made a face when she realized it was warm. It must have been sitting out for a long time. She returned it to the table but didn’t comment. Nancy knew Thatcher didn’t like beer. He was obviously just keeping up appearances.