Dangerous (28 page)

“Before I go, I have something for you.” I went to the backpack fastened to my motorcycle and pulled out the small gift I had wrapped for her.

I handed it to her. “It’s not much, but I thought of you when I saw it. Take it as a peace offering. No matter what happens between us, I want us to be friends.”

I placed it in her hands.

She quickly
unwrapped
it and smiled through her tears.
“A hummingbird keychain.”

“Tom told me that you had gotten a car. I thought you might need a keychain, and the hummingbird made me think of you.” I laughed before I let the bleakness of the entire situation settle back in my bones. “You don’t know how much I wanted to be your sweet drink of nectar.”

“Stone….”

I held my finger to her lips to silence her. I couldn’t deal with this right now, and I turned and hurried toward my motorcycle. After our conversation, I had a lot to think about, and I needed to ride.

Chapter 15

Stone

It had been so long since I had given a shit about anything that I had difficulty deciding what I should do. I ached to talk to Dara, but with the new revelation regarding her father, I needed some space from her. Damn it. Just when it appeared that I might actually be able to end the crazy ass ride I’d been on for the last three years by braking to a nice, slow stop instead of crashing and burning in a fiery wreck as I toppled over a cliff, life threw another gut-wrenching twist at me. Could I have a relationship with her without thinking about the atrocity that happened to Luke? It was bad enough that I carried my own burden where he was concerned. Could I take on the burden of looking at her every day, knowing that her father was the one who killed him?

I considered calling Mike but changed my mind. He was my only real male friend. After I left boarding school, communication with my friends had eventually come to a screeching halt. When I started Quail Mountain High, I really had no desire to socialize, except for the girls who were merely pawns to take my mind off of my miserable life.

I wondered when things had started to change. Dara was certainly a catalyst, but I thought perhaps the change started a few months after my father bought the bookstore. In an odd way, the bookstore made me feel closer to Luke because he would have loved it. He had enjoyed reading for as long as I could remember. Personally, I could never understand it. Sometimes, instead of riding his dirt bike, he would sit outside under a tree and read, looking up occasionally to see what I was doing.

I looked out my bedroom window, visualizing Luke under the old oak, an open book across his lap. I wished that he was here, even if it meant that I wasn’t. Luke wouldn’t be wasting his life the way I had been. And there it was. Maybe that’s what my father had been hinting at all this time. Shit. I owed it to Luke to take advantage of…life. It was a precious commodity, and one never knew when death would
come
calling.

I exhaled, letting some of my troubles dissipate with my breath. For the first time since Luke had died, I
needed
to talk to my father.

I spotted him through the large windows at the back of the house. He was sitting on the back patio with a cup of coffee in his hand, his reading glasses perched on his nose, and a newspaper spread across his lap.

I walked through the kitchen, opened the back door, and stepped into the early morning sunlight as it peered over the mountaintops, casting a golden hue over the treetops.

“Dad.”

He glanced up from the paper.
“Yeah, son?”

“I don’t want you to close the bookstore. I need a little more time.”

He looked exasperated. “Stone, we’ve already talked about this. The line has to be drawn somewhere. I can’t throw good money after bad.”

“Dad,” I began, ramming my hands through my hair, “sometimes things are about more than just money.”

He looked at me, as if waiting for me to explain my comment.

I blew a breath out, preparing myself for an awkward conversation. “The bookstore reminds me of Luke. I feel a connection to him when I’m there, like he would approve of what I’m doing, you know?”

My dad sat quietly for a moment, pondering my words.

“Dad, this is important to me.” All my emotions hit me at once, and I cursed as I struggled to get them under control. I pinched the bridge of my nose. I hadn’t shed one tear in front of another human being since I was in elementary school, and I wasn’t going to start crying like a lovesick schoolgirl now. “I’ve been engulfed in darkness for so long, knowing that it should’ve been me. I should be the dead one. Not Luke.”

My dad set down his coffee and brushed the paper to the ground, and in one fluid motion, he stood in front of me, grasping my arms. “Stone, don’t say that. If I’ve ever said anything that would make you think that, then I’m sorry. It was never in my thoughts, and it was never my intent. I love you both. I’ve only tried to push you because you haven’t been the same since he died, and it scares the hell out of me. I’ve lost one son. I don’t want to lose another one.”

I was doing pretty well at holding the shit in until I saw the tears in my dad’s eyes. That’s when I lost it. “I miss him so much, Dad.”

My dad pulled me to his chest. “I know, son. We all do.”

I could feel the tears burning as three years of pain, guilt, and anguish rushed to the surface. “He would still be here if it wasn’t for me. It’s my fault that he’s dead, Dad.”

He hugged me hard.
“No, son.
It’s not your fault. Let it go. Luke wouldn’t want this for you. He wouldn’t want you to be in so much pain.”

I nodded my head as I struggled to regain my composure. I knew that if our roles had been reversed, I wouldn’t have wanted Luke to blame himself. But that didn’t necessarily make it any easier.

He finally let go and looked at me. “I’m sorry, Stone. I’ve failed you. I knew you were hurting, but I didn’t know how to help you. You refused the counseling and support groups. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“The bookstore helps, Dad.”

“I had no idea the bookstore meant so much to you. You’re right. Luke would approve. If you want to make a go of it, then why don’t we give it another six months? Then, we can step back and take another look at it.”

I couldn’t stop the grin that shot across my face as relief flowed through my body. I felt as if a crushing burden had been lifted from my lungs, as if for once, I had done something right. “Thanks, Dad. I’m going to make Luke proud.”

My dad pursed his lips and nodded his head. “Yeah, you will. You’ve already made me proud, son.” He sat back down, scooping up his newspaper and retrieving his coffee. “Now, get out of here. You’ve got a bookstore to run, and from everything I’ve heard about Dara Golding, I wouldn’t let her slip through my fingers if I were you.”

I turned to leave, grateful to my father for his unsolicited advice where Dara was concerned. After hearing his comment, I knew that he would have no issues with Dara if I continued dating her, which most likely meant that he and my mother had discussed it. If my father had no issues, it was a pretty safe bet that my mother wouldn’t, either.

Now, I had to figure out whether
I
would.

Dara

The small wedding chapel was decorated beautifully on the day of Granny’s wedding. Tears filled my eyes as Granny and Mr. Milton spoke their wedding vows and promised their undying devotion to each other. They made the sweetest couple, and my heart swelled at the love they shared. I missed my Papa, but Mr. Milton was a good man. He would make Granny happy.

I didn’t notice Stone until after the cake-cutting ceremony at the reception. Looking extremely handsome in a black suit, he sat alone at a small table in the back of the room, and he was watching me.

Slowly, I made my way to him, greeting guests as I meandered along the circuitous path between the tables. Up close, he nearly took my breath away. He stood as I approached, his ice blue eyes studying me with a hint of seriousness. His dark hair was combed neatly off his forehead. His angular jaw, my favorite feature, was cleanly shaven, and I had the overwhelming desire to touch his face, his hair,
his
lips.

He pulled out the chair beside him. “Do you want to sit down?”

“You came.” I said
,
relieved to see him and glad that Granny had successfully delivered the invitation. I realized his question still needed an answer. “I want to talk to you, Stone, but I can’t right now. I need to get back up front in case Granny needs anything.

“Could we talk after the reception? Maybe you could come over to my house?” I asked, desperately hoping that he would agree.

“I’ll be there.”

“Great.” A mixture of relief and fear flooded me. I was glad that he agreed to come over, but what if he was waiting to deliver bad news? What if he never wanted to see me again?

I refused to dwell on it. Today was Granny’s wedding. “Why don’t you get some cake?”

He straightened his silky, red tie. “I may in a few minutes. I’m not really hungry right now.”

“Okay, well, I’m really glad you came.”

He nodded and sat back down in his chair. I turned and scampered back to the front of the room, not wanting to miss out on a single moment of Granny’s reception.

I thought perhaps today was the happiest I had ever seen Granny in recent years. She looked beautiful in her simple, white dress, adorned with pearls and sequins, but it was her smile that radiated her joy.

When she and Mr. Milton prepared to get in the limo, I lined up with the other guests, birdseed poised in my palm. Granny was ahead of us, though, and she popped open a dainty, white parasol, which she wielded like a shield, deflecting the birdseed. She and Mr. Milton slowly made their way to the limousine that waited to deliver them to the airport. Mr. Milton held the door open for her.

I ran to her and hugged her. “Have fun, Granny.”

“I will, honey. You take care while I’m gone.”

“I’ll be fine,” I promised.

They climbed in, and I waved as Mr. Milton swept his bride away to a seven-day cruise to the Bahamas for their honeymoon.

Stone was already gone when the reception was over. Dread churned in my veins as I wondered if he had changed his mind.

But when I pulled into the driveway at home, I parked beside his dad’s sports car. I found him sitting in the porch swing. He had already removed his jacket and tie, and the first few buttons of his crisp, white dress shirt were unbuttoned. His sleeves were rolled up just below his elbows.

I got out of the car, carrying my sparkly high heels by the ankle straps. I set them by the front door and walked to the swing, stopping in front of him.

“Hey, Dara,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

“Hey.” My voice came out in a squeak, revealing my nervousness.

He opened his arms, motioning for me to sit in his lap. I
obeyed,
my heart pounding furiously as his masculinity surrounded me. The smell of his cologne made me breathe a little deeper than normal.

His hand rested on my knee, his thumb caressing my skin. “I missed you,” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. “I took your advice.”

“What advice is that?” I asked
,
staring at my hands folded in my lap.

“I talked to my father about the bookstore. I told him how much it means to me, and he agreed to give me at least six more months.”

I couldn’t help but feel relieved. I knew how important it was to Stone, and Tom would get to keep his job. “I’m glad.”

“Look, Dara. I’m sorry.”

“Is this where you tell me you can’t see me anymore?” Apprehension consumed me.

His warm fingers tilted my face, so that our eyes met.
“No, baby.
This is where I tell you how sorry I am that it has taken me this long to work through this. You know I’m no good at relationships.”

“I thought you were good at everything,” I countered, a small smile on my face.

He took my face in his palms, his thumbs continuing to caress. “I’m in new territory now. Dara, I don’t know how to love someone, but I’d like to learn to love you. I think I already do.” He kissed me lightly on the lips, his palm moving to my leg and sliding along my thigh, sending shivers of awareness cascading through my body. “I want you to be mine. Will you?”

I pretended to contemplate his question, not wanting to appear too eager.

“Come on, Dara. You’ve already admitted that I’m a sexy beast. How’re you gonna say ‘no’ to this?” he asked, his hands motioning down the length of his body.

I grinned and rolled my eyes. “You’re so conceited.”

“Conceited and a badass,” he whispered, nodding his head slowly as if that was the most magnificent combination on the face of the earth.

“What?” I asked, cupping my hand around my ear, pretending that I couldn’t hear him. “What did you say? Conceited and a….”

His index finger pressed against my lips, my intended insult silenced.

He slid his finger out of the way, replacing it with his lips. All coherent thoughts slipped from my mind as he gently cradled my face, kissing me as if I were something precious to be treasured.