She needed to get a grip on herself. She had an entire day to get through and, she just remembered, a string garden class to teach tonight. When she reached the end of the dock, she sat down with her feet hanging over the water and her arms wrapped around her middle, bracing herself against the anguish that gripped her.
This was what it felt like to love someone so much she had to be honest with him. This is what it felt like to be honest—and to lose him. How would she ever go back to being who she was? Which brought her to a more troubling question. Who the hell was she? Was she the good girl her parents had raised? The rebellious coed? The proud business owner? Or was she, really, the Naked Baker? A woman who dressed in nearly nothing for money? She knew who she wanted to be. A flower shop owner, big sister, and Blue’s girlfriend. That was all she wanted.
But what she wanted didn’t matter, and she’d accepted that when she’d committed to helping Maddy.
She buried her face in her hands as an even more treacherous thought hit her.
What would Blue think of her if—when—he watched the videos?
She pulled out her cell phone and sent him a text—I’m sorry I hurt you—and then she lay back on the rough, hard pier and stared up at the sky, praying he’d forgive her.
***
BLUE CLUTCHED HIS phone, staring at the text from Lizzie, remembering the way the color had drained from her face when he’d told her she’d deceived not only him, but she’d also deceived herself. He shoved his phone in his pocket, unable to deal with the roller coaster of emotions rattling through him.
He’d stayed up half the night watching the Naked Baker videos. There were so many of them that he’d been sick and angry watching one after another, feeling his heart chip away with each one. How many guys had watched her while they jerked off? How many drunk college guys gathered around their computers laughing about all the things they’d like to do to her as she strutted around nearly naked? He had a good handle on the vast number of people who had done just that. He’d surfed message boards and forums for posts about the Naked Baker and had been disgusted by what he’d found. Chat rooms filled with anonymous posts about her breasts and ass and all the dirty things guys would like to do to her. How the hell could he protect the woman he loved from those types of attacks?
He pushed from the chair on his back deck and paced, as he’d been doing all morning. How could she have demeaned herself like this?
Even after watching the videos, he couldn’t reconcile the Lizzie he knew with the seductress on the videos. His Lizzie was seductive and sexy, but the woman on the videos brought it to a whole new level. Or maybe brought it to a whole new low. All those muffins and treats she’d left for him in the mornings were just leftovers from the dirty shows she’d taped the night before, made for the enjoyment of some other guys. And not just some other guys, but probably thousands of perverted guys.
How did she live with that? How could she uphold such a wholesome image in her daily life and slip into this other persona at night?
And why?
He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the why of it. He should have let her explain, but he couldn’t have listened to another word last night if his life had depended on it.
He stormed into the cabin and headed for the bedroom, stopping cold in the doorway. He couldn’t look at the bed without seeing Lizzie lying beneath him, looking up at him like he was her everything. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to move across the floor to the dresser. Yanking open the top drawer, he took out the notes she’d left for him over the last few weeks and clenched his fist around them. He wanted to burn every last one of them, to rid himself of her memory. He strode into the kitchen and turned on the gas stove, clutching the notes over the flame. The heat seared his shaking fingers.
“Damn it!” He threw them on the kitchen floor and turned off the flame, unable to burn them. Burning them wouldn’t change a damn thing. He loved her more than life itself, and he didn’t want a fucking empty memory. He wanted Lizzie, but he had no idea how to deal with this shit.
His cell phone rang and he pulled it out. Trish’s smiling face flashed on the screen. She was in Los Angeles. What the hell was wrong that she’d call at this ungodly hour?
“Hey,” he answered sharply.
“Whoa, B. Are you okay?” Trish asked.
“Yeah, sorry. What’s up, sis? Something wrong?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about Cash and Siena. What did you get them as a gift?”
“You’re thinking of gifts? What time is it there?”
She sighed, and he knew something was wrong. He rose to his feet, his protective urges surging forth.
“Trish? What’s wrong?”
He hated that she lived so far away from him and his siblings.
“Nothing.”
He exhaled loudly. “I suck at this figure-it-out shit. You know that. Do I need to come out there and kick the shit out of some asshole?”
She laughed. “No. God, B. I can do that myself.”