Tattered Love (Needle's Kiss)

left, I was exhausted. Mace called in the troops within ten minutes of making a phone call. His mother and sisters walked through the door. Marcy set about making dinner, while the girls cleaned my bathroom within an inch of its life. I was convinced it had never looked so clean; it almost sparkled. Having Mace so close to me all day wasn’t helping my resolve a whole lot. Neither was the fact he was acting as if nothing was wrong, being all attentive and sweet, touching me as he walked by, and dropping chaste kisses against my shoulder and head.
    I came to a stop in the kitchen to find Marcy doing the dinner dishes, everyone else had left for the night. “You don’t need to be doing that. You cooked,” I told her.
    “Oh, shush now, sweetie.” Marcy cleared her throat “I actually wanted to talk to you a minute.” Wiping her hands on the dish towel, she took a seat beside me at the table. I was momentarily taken back to the crazy-hot monkey sex Mace and I had on that very table, his calloused hands brushing across my nipples, nibbling his way down my stomach. Marcy’s voice drew me out of my thoughts. I mentally shook my head, a flush creeping up my neck.
    “He really screwed up didn’t he?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, just kept going. “Men are idiots; I can attest to that. I lived with the biggest one for years.” Smiling sadly to herself, she reached out and took my hand. “But don’t give up on him, sweetheart. He knows he messed up. He’s going to try his hardest to fix it, and he’s like his father, so it’s going to annoy the hell out of you. He won’t give up.”
    “He did give up though. He gave up when he walked out.”
    Smiling, she squeezed my hand. “Oh Scarlett, don’t you see? He was scared.”
    ‘Scared? What the hell did he have to be scared about? He had me. He had all of me,” I quietly objected.
    “Oh, baby, he’s scared of you.” Marcy reached up, cupping my face in her soft warm hand, smiling sympathetically. My skepticism must have shown clearly across my face. “He loves you. Whenever Mace has loved, it’s been taken away from him. He’s going to try to protect that love, baby. He’ll just sometimes do it in a stupid way.” I heard the front door open just as Marcy stood and quietly whispered, “You’re his rainbow at the end of the storm.”
    I sat there dumbfounded for a moment. Mace’s deep voice had my head coming up. Why the hell was he back here?
    “Thanks for waiting, Ma. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before bending down to kiss her cheek. I moved toward the front door where Mace watched his mother get in her car and drive away. Looking down, I noticed a bag in his hand.
    “What are you doing ?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t what it looked like.
    “Staying the night, babe,” he answered, completely matter of fact.
    Hell to the no!
    “ Like fuckery you are! I don’t need nor want you to stay. I’m a big girl and I’m perfectly capable of being alone.”
    His eyes shone with amusement that I was really not feeling. “Suck it up, princess. I’m not leaving.” He made his way round to the sofa, dropped his bag and shucked his shirt .
    Crappity crap crap crap !
    It was hard enough talking—or arguing rather—with Mace when he was fully clothed, let alone half naked. He walked past me to the hall closet where I kept spare pillows and blankets. Pulling out what he needed, he made up the sofa, clearly not listening to me.
    I stood there staring like a twit, simply because I was. The sight of Mace sans shirt left me a drooling mute, even when he was pissing me off. Pulling myself together, I turned away clenching and unclenching my fists in an effort to calm myself down.
    “I expect you to be gone when I get out of the shower,” I threw over my shoulder, stomping off toward the downstair’s bathroom. Not a chance was I stepping foot in the other knowing some creep had been in there.
    Just before closing the door, I swear I heard him chuckle, “Game on baby.” Something told me Marcy might be right; Mace was going to be an annoying jackass until he got his way. Question was, how long could I hold out before I forgave him?
    I stepped out of the shower and reached for the lone towel I kept in the rarely used bathroom. Wrapping it around myself, I realized I didn’t have any clothes down here. That meant I’d have to make a run for it.
    Knowing my luck, I’d fall face first on the stairs.
    Opening the bathroom door, I didn’t