Dare You Forever (Brothers of Ink and Steel #2.5) (3 page)

Chapter Five

Sophie

Holy fuck the man can kiss!
At first
I lose every semblance of reason under his spell.
But the bummer-man delivers, and he’s in full form this afternoon.

You know this is only temporary, right?

Shut up.

He won’t love your sorry ass forever.

Shut. Up.

You might as well get out now with your dignity intact.

Shut up!

You know, maybe you’ll be able to handle the rejection and hurt again, but what about Charlie?

SHUT UP!!! I don’t have to run anymore! I can let the walls stay down.

This constantly replaying argument with myself is killing me! I keep trying to convince myself, but I’m a walking contradiction.

What will make me stay or go? Is there a magic solution that will give me peace and security? Or is it just going to take time?

And honestly, how the fuck much more do I need from the man to know he’s mine? To know Charlie and I are safe?

How much more do I need to understand it internally and to finally silence my tortured mind?

I’ve already leaped with both feet!

I’ve said yes to marrying him, we purchased a home together, we work together—Charlie and I travel on a tour bus with him—I’ve seen him at his best and at his worst. I’ve seen him naked both physically and emotionally, and I was right—I knew when he finally gave his heart away he’d be all in.

He is all in with us.

I know it, I feel it, I sense it. There is nothing to be afraid of any longer.

Jim is dead.

And Josh is
not
Jim.

But it doesn’t stop the thoughts that gnaw and nag like a deeply embedded splinter. It’s been ingrained in me—love isn’t real and it doesn’t stay.

Then I think about the people in Josh’s world—his mom and dad, his uncle and aunt—they’re the kind of people who seem to stay forever.

I believe Josh
is
that kind of person.

“What are you thinking about? ’Cause I know it’s not us and right now.” Josh just worked my pants down my legs and I’m a thousand miles away.

I put my hand on his jaw and guide him back up on the bed to me. His dark, hypnotic eyes bring me back to the present.

God, please make me right! I love him!

His jaw clenches sexily at my touch before he lands on top of me with a high voltage kiss that curls my toes. I grab his ass and pull him against me as I spread my legs wider, welcoming him.

He hikes up my skirt and grinds his amazing shaft over my already dripping panties.

“Hmmmm … you’re going to feel so fucking incredible on our wedding night,” he purrs into my ear.

“Yeah …” I think. “Wait,
what
?”

“We have to wait for the wedding night,” he declares.

“You’re joking, right?” I chuckle.

“Nope, no joke.” He’s still sucking on the flesh on my neck and pressing his muscular chest against my tits.

“Mr. Wedding-night, I’d like to remind you that we have already christened every room in this farmhouse.”

“Shh …” He places a tentative finger over my wanton lips. “We’re just making out like horny teenagers—and by the way, I’m psyched to have rounded second base.”

“I can’t wait till you slide into home.”

“Oh fuck, woman! You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” He brushes my lips with one more kiss then crawls painstakingly off of me to stand up and rearrange his bulging package.

“Where are you going?” I ask, my body immediately protesting his absence.

“It’s not where I’m going. It’s where you’re going.”

“What?” I’m so confused.

He looks over toward the window and then at the bedside clock. “You have a lot to do between now and Saturday.”

Josh goes into the walk-in closet.

“I do?” I sit up half-naked in the bed and crane my neck to see what he’s up to.

He reemerges with a stuffed dufflebag in one hand and a golden envelope in the other with the word “Instructions” scrawled across it.

“Now, no cheating,” he warns playfully as he holds the envelope out of my reach. “And zero protesting.”

“Oh, there’s definitely going to be protesting.” I think of my poor, needy body.

He takes my hand and pulls me off the bed. “Up and at ’em!”

“Josh …” My tone sounds like Charlie’s when she wants a cookie.

“Do you love me?”

I sigh. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me.”

***

The only piece of info I got out of him before he dropped me off here at the local Starbucks was that Charlie would be staying with his mom—his entire family is renting a guest house here in St. Paul for the wedding—so I’m left with more questions than answers. He did tell me to wait until I ordered a coffee and sat down before I opened the envelope.

And why am I going along with this?

I answer myself,
Because … Josh! Duh.

“Sophie!” I automatically turn and see Britt and Quinn sitting at an outside table with iced lattes in hand and a backpack on the ground next to their feet.

“What the …?”
Oh, that man’s been plotting alright.

I walk over. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re wondering the same thing,” Britt states. “All we know is that Josh gave us each an envelope.”

“And made us pack for up until the wedding,” Quinn says. “And promise we’d take care of you. You guys okay?”

“Never better.”I study the envelope in my hand. My fingers go to rip the corner.

“Wait!” Both girls jump up from their chairs, scraping the metal across the concrete patio.

“Josh gave specific instructions to open them
together
!” Britt holds out her hand to stop me.

I scowl. “So we
have
to do everything Josh says?”

Britt regards me like I’m nuts. “Your gorgeous fiancé wants to send you on an exciting adventure with friends, and you don’t want to …
why
?

That breaks through the sexual frustration and my immediate mistrust of something new.

“You’re right … absolutely right. I don’t know what I’m thinking,” I’m thinking I don’t understand what’s going on. “You guys chill out, I’m going to get a coffee, I’ll be right back.”

I order an iced caramel macchiato and meet the girls back at the table.

We sit for a moment quietly, all of us studying each other and the thin envelope in front of us.

“I really can’t take anymore. Are you ready?” I ask, becoming more curious by the minute.

“Whenever you are.” Quinn smiles and straightens her off-the-shoulder shirt.

“On the count of three then.” I look to each of them,

“1, 2 … 3,” we say simultaneously then tear open our envelopes.

I puff the sides of the envelope out, reach my fingers inside and pull out the neatly folded golden note.

We all take a second to look at each other and the papers in our hands. Why do I feel so nervous?

“Read yours first, Britt,” I whine, not even able to begin to guess at what Josh is up to.

She rolls her eyes and unfolds her letter. “Hey, Britt. Knowing my girl like I do, she’s going to ask you to read your instructions first. Don’t worry about it. She’ll get used to this game I’ve devised and have so much fun she’ll be tearing hers open and reading it first with relish soon enough.”

Now she throws a scolding glance my direction.

“Okay … so he just … thinks … he knows me …” I start slowly, feeling embarrassed and dumbfounded. I decide to wave her on quickly so I don’t have to feel that way any longer. “Just keep reading.”

“For the next three days before the wedding I have some very special things planned for Sophie to prove to her that I will never hurt her or Charlie and that I love them with my life.” Her expression becomes puzzled and concerned. “What’s he talking about?”

“You’re still having the bad dreams?” Quinn leans against the table on her elbows and asks sympathetically.

I nod, feeling very defeated.

“Josh confided in Liam. He thought maybe I could help somehow,” she explains. “I’m sorry if that’s an intrusion.” She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it kindly.

“It’s not,” I say to Quinn, then shrug at Britt. “I just didn’t want to talk about it. I thought they would’ve gone away by now.” Or should have.

Britt offers a soft smile before she continues with Josh’s note. “She needs a cheering squad—that’s where you and Quinn come in. Just hang with her and make sure she’s okay. Thanks and more instructions coming soon.”

At this point Quinn is silently reading over hers. When she looks up she says, “He wrote pretty much the same thing but did say that the rest of the envelopes will only be for Sophie to open.”

“Rest of them?” I look at the girls, baffled. “There are more?”

They both shrug.

“Read yours, Sophie,” Quinn urges.

I can’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Britt asks.

“It’s just … my fiancé … feels like he has to resort to tricks to convince me. I feel terrible.” My finger smooths along the note’s edge.

“No, I don’t think he feels like he has to
convince
you, but maybe reassure you,” Quinn tries. “You know, put your mind at ease. Josh is a powerful, alpha guy who wants to make you happy. Maybe try to look at it that way; play along and see where it leads. He obviously has something he wants to communicate to you through this.”

“Not to mention he’s fucking hot and ridiculously sweet—remember the giant pink teddy bear he brought the first time he met Charlie?” Britt cocks her head like a know-it-all.

I smile at the memory of the hulking tattooed fighter I hardly knew meeting me and my three-year-old daughter Charlie at his private jet. His hard, inked, muscular arms were wrapped around a massive, fuzzy-soft, baby-pink bear. It was a great tactic.

I laugh out loud and shake my head. “He’s known what he’s doing this entire time!”

“Yeah, you never stood a chance,” Britt agrees.

Quinn chuckles as I surrender and unfold my letter and then read it aloud.

To my soon-to-be Mrs. North,

Some people go through their whole lives never feeling true love. Beyond near impossible odds we were brought together—call it destiny or fate, serendipity or a happy accident—we can call it whatever the fuck we want because it’s ours, and us, and belongs to no one else! I was meant to love you. And I’m so grateful to you for showing me what love really is. Now I know that love takes a lot of energy and dedication—divorce rates are sky-high, and some people give up on what they believed in—but I make this commitment to you: I will never give up on you or our love.

I will work my ass off every day to prove this to you.

And I know I’m going to blow it a million times, and someday, if you ever decide to go your own way, I’ll let you—and you’ll have no need to fear me or repercussions or revenge, no matter what happens—because I’ll remember this most amazing time we had together and I’ll remain forever thankful to you and Charlie for that gift until the day I die.

Now, with that out of the way, it’s time for me to prove my words. So during these final hours of your single life …

I dare you … forever.

With all my love,

Josh

Each word roots itself into my soul as my eyes and fingers graze over the ink and paper.

When I finally look at my companions, I see their eyes are swimming in puddles.

“Greatest guy ever,” Britt declares.

A barista stops at our table. “Excuse me, are you Sophie?”

“Yes,” I say, still lost in what I just read.

“I have these for you, compliments of Josh.” She smiles big and sets down a to-go box of flaky croissants with melted chocolate flowing from the sides. On the top of the box is a gold envelope that reads. “Sophie, Enjoy.”

“Croissants? Does he
not
know I have a wedding dress to stuff
all
of this into?” I sweep my hand across my body.

“Jesus Christ, OPEN THE ENVELOPE!” Britt explodes.

Quinn laughs at us.

I tear the end carefully, slip the paper out and read it.

“Take a taxi to the Lake Como boat landing. Further directions await.”

“Let’s go!” Quinn pushes out her chair, jumps up and grabs my arm.

Britt picks up the coffees. “And so the adventure begins.”

Chapter Six

Sophie

At the docks is a man who looks to be in his sixties sitting in an old lawn chair next to a small boat with a trolling motor. He has the look of a seasoned fisherman with his worn out jeans and Bass Pro ball cap.

“You must be Sophie,” the guy says with a thick Minnesotan accent as we approach.

“I am.”

“I’ve been waiting for you ladies. Friends call me Coors.” He shakes my hand with a firm grip. “Step aboard.”

Coors takes each of our hands to help us as we step down into the boat, then gives us each a life jacket. “I can’t remember the last time I had so many pretty ladies in my boat.”

When we’re ready, he turns over the motor and says, “Josh wanted me to remind you to enjoy the scenery.”

“Enjoy the scenery,” I echo. “Got it.”

The lake is beautiful this time of year. Fish investigate the surface of the water, and every now again you’ll be looking at the right place at the right time and see one jump right out of the water to catch its own meal. Deer dot the shoreline, nibbling on grass or tree bark. And it’s so quiet. I find I can just let every thought in my mind go.

It doesn’t take much time to reach the center of the lake, and Coors stops the vessel and shuts down the motor.

“What’s going on?” I inquire, suddenly reminded of Josh’s game. I look around, wondering what he has in store for me, but I can’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Coors reaches into a cooler and retrieves a Ziploc storage bag with a golden envelope secured inside and passes it to me. Then he gives each of us a Molson before he cracks open his own Coors can.

He smiles and shrugs. “The brews are on Josh.”

I shake my head in light and excited laughter and fish out my envelope.

Read to yourself—it’s intimate.

By now you’re sitting in the middle of the lake, soaking up the warmth of the sun. Notice how the sky is clear and the breeze floats over the lake to cool your skin like a kiss. It’s easy to see the shore on a day like today—tall trees reflect off the surface of the lake while the green hills in the distance rise up out of the earth. Hold this peace in your heart—breathe it in.

Now know that Monday calls for severe thunderstorms. The lake area, so clear at this moment, will be covered with dark, ominous clouds filled with cold, bittersweet rain. Still—the same rain and wind that blinds the sailor and makes the vessel toss and tip also feeds the flowers and animals and humanity with the fresh water that carries life.

You can’t have one without the other.

But remember, when your vision is obscured and you can’t see your way home to shore, it will pass—it will become clear again, you won’t ever stay lost for long. And I swear I’ll hold your hand through each storm, and even when you’re furious with me and don’t want to touch me, my sorry-ass apology will be like that life preserver around your chest, holding your head above water and hugging your heart.

Thanks for forgiving me.

Large, full tears tumble down my cheeks. I can feel all of the boating party—including Coors—staring at me, but I can’t bring myself to look back at them yet. I fill my lungs with the sweet fresh air around me and add being greatly poetic to my fiancé’s many incredible skills.

We all sit quietly for a little while, and no one interrupts my thoughts. Once we’ve finished our beers, Coors brings us back to shore.

When we reach the docks, he ties the boat and then helps us get sure footing again.

“One more.” he says and gives me a new Ziploc baggie with another envelope protected inside.

I read the contents without hesitation. “Take taxi to Vanhorn Metal Works.”

***

The wide, handsome knotty pine barn doors are open, allowing the outside air in to cool the area where large fires burn in rugged stone fireplaces.

It’s empty but for a couple blacksmiths working.

Britt croons, “Nothing turns me on more than a guy pounding iron.”

Quinn and I smile.

One guy is welding while the other is hammering down a large plate-like shield—the guy’s arms the size of Thor’s.

We stand there, a bit awkward, until Thor notices us and waves us over closer.

“You must be the North party,” he states. “Which one of you is the bride-to-be?”

“That would be her.” Britt points a thumb at me. “I, however, am available.”

Quinn and I barely keep from busting up.

I swear Thor undresses Britt with his eyes. “Good to know.”

And it’s obvious she enjoys every second of it.

When he tears his eyes away, he looks back at me. “I have something special for you from Josh.” Then he points to the wall where protective aprons and eyewear hang.

We get the hint and prepare ourselves. When we’re ready, he indicates for us to come closer and watch what he’s doing.

He sets the shield thing aside, walks over to the fire and removes a solid bar of iron that’s so violently hot it glows. He sets it over a thick iron cylinder and begins to hammer—hard and precise.

Every few minutes his eyes trail up to Britt. She rewards each look with a flirtatious gesture.

The iron bends and comes alive. Tiny chips flake off, and soon a slender decorative rod appears. He flattens the tip almost effortlessly, rotates the rod, and now the tip is a flat circle. He continues to work it until, magically, a delicate calla lily appears.

I look to Quinn and Britt and back again. It’s flawless. And he created it with a hammer!

He changes his tool to a smaller spike-headed hammer and carefully adds dimension and detail. After he’s satisfied with it, he uses a steel brush to smooth it out.

“Beautiful,” Britt says.

“I appreciate that,” he replies. “I was thinking the same about you.”

When he looks away she wraps her fingers around my arm in a Kung-Fu grip. She’s swooning.

Thor puts the iron flower to the side to cool then leads us to the other side of the barn where the retail shop is. Amazing works of iron decorate every square inch. He goes over behind the register counter and hands me a large box wrapped in golden paper.

I bite my lip in anticipation. “What has Josh done now?”

Britt starts talking to Thor while Quinn browses the shop. I take the quiet moment to step outside.

The sun is going down. I take a seat on a wood and iron bench perched in the grass and lift the flap of the gold envelope on top.

You watched the blacksmith create his art. Pretty fucking amazing, right? Sometimes I think of you that way—like a nearly indestructible piece of iron who was beat down for most of her life. But instead of allowing it to break you, you became the most exquisite bloom. I’m so proud of who you are.

Now check out what’s in the box.

I rip open my gift in excitement.

Resting in the box is a gorgeous candle wall sconce made of intricate woven iron. I pick it up out of the box to admire it.

Underneath it lays another golden envelope.

See how each iron piece twists and wraps around the others, making it stronger, and how it holds the candle? That’s us—alone we could make it—but together we become whole and strong as iron, lighting each other’s way.

I love you, Sophie.

“I love you too, Josh,” I whisper. “I love you too.”