Read Love Me if You Dare Online

Authors: Carly Phillips

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

Love Me if You Dare (12 page)

BOOK: Love Me if You Dare
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“I’m staying over, remember?”

“I thought you just told my father and Vi you’d stay over so they wouldn’t worry. I can’t imagine you really want to sleep there,” she said of the bed-and-breakfast, the major point of contention in their marriage.

He stepped closer. “Is that what you think?” His heart slammed inside his chest.

She nodded.

“Well, you’re wrong. If the fire had happened earlier in the day, you could have been killed.” And he’d have lost any chance he had of making things right.

She leaned against the door and met his gaze. “You panicked. I understand. But that doesn’t change the truth about us.”

“Which is?”

“It’s one thing to dance together and to get along for twenty minutes without arguing. It’s another to agree on what fundamentally divides us,” Angel said softly.

He grabbed her forearms and pulled her close, kissing her hard on the lips. She stiffened in shock, then slowly but surely relaxed against him, kissing him back. Opening for him. Accepting him and everything he wanted to give but didn’t know how to express in words.

He broke the kiss first, leaning his forehead against hers. “Let me come home with you tonight. Let me make sure you’re safe.” He barely recognized his gruff voice.

She licked her lips, then slowly nodded. “Okay. You can come home with me.”

His heart began a race inside his chest once more.

“But nothing can happen between us,” she said, putting the breaks on.

He silently counted to five, unwilling to argue and lose ground. And
that
was a first for him. “I understand.”

But him staying over wasn’t enough. He needed to be back in her life for good. She still focused on his resentment of the B and B as the source of their prob
lem, but he believed they needed to talk and grieve together. Something she wouldn’t do unless pushed.

“What if we see a marriage counselor?” he asked, surprising himself. “That way we can make sure we agree on how to fix what’s wrong before we try.”

“And before I invest my heart again.” She blinked, and tears fell down her cheeks.

He wiped her cheek with his thumb. “Your heart is still invested,” he said gruffly. “And so is mine.”

As he followed her back to her place, for the first time, Nick felt a glimmer of hope. She’d agreed to see a marriage counselor. Maybe a trained therapist could help her learn to talk about the miscarriage and guide them toward redefining their future.

He didn’t know if either of them could make this work. But he loved her enough to try.

 

R
AFE SHUT THE DOOR
, locking it behind his brother and sister-in-law. Then he set the burglar alarm. “First thing tomorrow I’m calling the alarm company and having a perimeter alarm installed,” Rafe said.

“Isn’t that what you have?” Sara asked.

“No. I have one that just hits the main doors and entrances. Truth is, I only installed an alarm at all because I’m rarely here. The crime rate is so minimal, nothing more was necessary.”

Sara bit the inside of her cheek. Guilt was already eating away at her. If she had been the target
of the fire, she’d caused fear and aggravation for his family, not to mention the cost of the destruction of the booth.

“I don’t want you to spend more money on the alarm system because of me. If you didn’t need it before, you don’t need it now.”

“Don’t argue. It’s necessary. You came here to feel safe, and I intend to make sure you stay that way. Besides, it’s never a waste of money to invest in a better alarm system.” He shut the light in the kitchen and walked over to where she sat on the couch, sitting down beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t want to cause problems for your whole family. Maybe I should go back to the city.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If you do, I’m going with you. Then we’ll have to have a state-of-the-art alarm system installed in your apartment and on the main front door, which will only piss off the landlord. So? What’s it going to be?”

“Okay, you can upgrade the alarm here.” But she’d pay him back, no matter how much he argued.

A satisfied grin settled over his face.

He was sexy when he was worried, sexy when he was happy, sexy when he had a satisfied grin on his handsome face. Boy, she had it bad, Sara thought.

“Earth to Sara?” Rafe waved a hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, I was distracted,” she said, shaking her head. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you thought Biff and Todd seemed like possible suspects.”

She wasn’t surprised he’d asked. He’d disliked them on sight. Besides, they’d begun to make her uncomfortable with the way they were constantly around. “They’re odd, but I already discounted them because when they checked in, they said they’d had the reservations way in advance. We could ask Angel, but I have a feeling they’re telling the truth.”

“Yeah, odd doesn’t necessarily make them criminal. But I’m keeping an eye on those two.”

Sara nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Thanks for going easy on Angel. I think Nick took his cue from you,” Rafe said.

“She didn’t mean any harm.”

“Now do you see what I mean about how hard it is to live here, everybody in everyone else’s business? To Angel, telling the Bachelor Blogger about you was just like telling her next-door neighbor.”

She curled her legs beneath her, getting more comfortable. “Actually, I think it’s kind of nice. Do you realize that in the city we rarely ever see our neighbors? We rarely see our friends unless we make a huge effort! Around here, people
care
about each other.”

“You don’t mind that Angel turned you in for her own selfish business reasons?” he asked.

“I’d care more if she did it to hurt me, but she had no idea I was hiding out here.” She met Rafe’s gaze. “I guess I just like the idea of having a place where I feel a part of things, you know?”

“Similar to how I realize I’m coming to like you hanging out with my family,” he admitted, his voice gruff.

She thought back to their earlier conversation about his ex-fiancée and how he hadn’t wanted to share her with everyone or expose her to the chaos that came along with his family. He’d drawn an unspoken distinction between her and Sara. She felt herself being pulled deeper into this small community and this loving family, and she didn’t know what to make of it—or them.

“I’m tired,” she finally said.

“It’s been a long day. We should get some sleep.”

“I’ll be right in,” she said, needing time alone to regroup.

And to remind herself that she didn’t do long-term relationships or commitment. That as much as she liked his family, she was a visitor passing through and would be returning to her solitary life very soon.

The thought didn’t bring as much comfort as it should have.

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
HE NEXT MORNING DAWNED
bright and sunny, but the mood at the festival was dim. Word spread quickly that the pie-booth fire had been set deliberately, but the culprit was still at large. As a result, everyone was on edge, worried their booth might be next. Some parents kept their children home, and the carnival area was empty. It didn’t help that the smell of burnt wood lingered in the air, and red tape surrounded the area to keep people out.

With Rafe by her side, Sara spent the afternoon helping his family run the spice booth. She spent much of the day on a stool behind the booth thanks to the aching pain in her knee, a reminder that she had more to worry about than Morley sending men after her.

“What’s on your mind?” Rafe asked, coming up beside her.

She blew out a long breath. “My knee hurts. Up till now, I’ve kept busy enough that I haven’t had time to dwell on it.” She perched her chin in her hands and sighed.

He settled into an empty stool. As usual, he knew when to talk and when to back off, and right now he remained silent, offering support with his mere presence. But the anxiety she’d begun to feel still clawed inside her chest.

“If I don’t have my career, who am I?” The thought had occurred to her when she’d reinjured her knee and remained, always there, hovering.

“You’re a smart woman who is a lot more than her career. What did you major in?”

She thought back to her days in college. “Criminal justice and sociology.”

“All great stepping-stones. And you have great people skills. You could do counseling, be a social worker…. You could work within the department and not on the street.”

“A desk job?” she asked, horrified.

“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” he asked, ignoring her panicked question. No doubt because he couldn’t imagine being sidelined, either.

She shrugged. “I have to schedule one when I get back to the city. But I know my body, and it’s not healing right. I can feel it.” She rubbed her swollen knee, an ever-present reminder that her future might be far different than the one she’d envisioned or planned.

Rafe wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Don’t panic until you have to,” he suggested. “I know you’re scared, but I guarantee you’ll find
something equally rewarding if you can’t return to active duty.”

“Rafe!” Aunt Vi’s distinctive voice called out. Aunt Vi ran over to them, waving her hands.

“Sorry,” Rafe said.

Sara shook her head. “I was about finished with the subject anyway.” And she was grateful for the interruption.

Rafe rose, then held out a hand, helping Sara to her feet. “What’s going on?” he asked his aunt.

“Pirro has been acting very odd. He’s so quiet, which isn’t at all like him,” Vi said.

Rafe inclined his head. “I noticed the same thing last night. But the fire was enough to upset him, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but he’s been acting strangely for a while. It’s just worse now. And when we should be pulling together as a family, he’s more distant.” She pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose loudly.

“Maybe you’re worrying for nothing,” Sara said. “I realize it’s none of my business, but did you ever think of talking to your husband? I don’t know anything about being married, but I know plenty about divorce, and secrets are damaging to any relationship.”

“Which is why I asked Rafe to find out what’s going on with him!”

“Or you could just ask him outright.” Sara tried again to reason with Rafe’s aunt.

“I couldn’t! What if he is cheating? Do you think he’d tell me? And if he isn’t, I’ll do irreparable damage to our relationship by questioning his integrity! I need to know what I’m dealing with first,” the other woman said firmly.

Rafe grasped her hand in his stronger one. “I already promised to look into it for you, but you have to promise me you’ll calm down. Getting worked up like this isn’t good for you.”

Vi sniffed back tears. “I’ll try.”

“No, you’ll do it, or else I’m not helping you. You know you have to watch your blood pressure,” he gently chided.

Sara couldn’t contain her smile. Rafe liked to complain about his meddling, overreactive family, but deep down he adored them, and they relied on him for so much. Which was why he preferred living away from here, she realized now. When he was in town, he gave whatever they needed, but he had to leave to regroup, too.

“Okay, I promise.” Vi straightened her shoulders. “I’ll calm down, but only because I know you’re in charge.” She drew a deep, visible breath. “Okay. Calm. You see? Now I’m going home to soak in a warm tub. And maybe when Pirro finally gets home, I can entice him into bed,” she said with a dreamy sigh.

“Aunt Vi!” Rafe gave an exaggerated shudder.

Ignoring him, the woman walked away, humming.

Rafe groaned. “I swear sometimes I think she’ll drive me to drink,” he muttered.

Sara laughed. “She’s a character. I hope she’s wrong about Pirro.”

“I do, too. There’s nothing I believe in more than fidelity.”

Sara reached out and touched his cheek. “Angel told me about your father,” she said softly. “It couldn’t have been easy for you or your family.”

“It wasn’t.” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he struggled to explain, hating the memories that came back to him. “My mother would pretend to be strong for us during the day, then at night she’d cry herself to sleep. I wanted to hate him,” he said of his father. “But when he came home and made things work, I settled for promising myself I’d never be like him.”

She grasped his hand, knowing how hard the admissions must be for him.

“Let’s walk.” She guided him away from the family booth and any prying eyes or ears. She didn’t ask questions, either. She waited for him to talk when he was ready.

They strode down Main Street, toward where he’d parked his car hours earlier. “You want to know the ironic thing?” he finally asked.

“What’s that?”

“Right before I switched shifts and stopped being your partner, I nearly followed in his footsteps.”

“How?”

“By cheating on my fiancée with you.”

Sara opened her mouth, then closed it again, shocked by his words. She could still remember the way he had looked at her while he was buried deep inside her body. She’d been so shaken by the wealth of emotions he made her feel, and now this admission. He’d left their partnership to avoid acting on his feelings for her. The thought both thrilled and panicked her at the same time.

She moistened her dry lips. “But we never even came close to kissing. Or to admitting we had chemistry.”

“But we wanted to.” He met her gaze, a knowing look in his eyes. “And if I’d stuck around, it was only a matter of time before we did.”

Sara shook her head, everything in her rebelling at his words. “I’m sorry, but I can’t jump to the same conclusion as you. We wouldn’t have acted on it.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because I know you. You have more honor and integrity than anyone else I know. More self-restraint, too. You’d have to have it in spades be a hostage negotiator.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” A grim smile settled over his lips.

“You’re welcome. Now, quit being so hard on yourself,” she said, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.

“If you say so.”

Sara shivered despite the summer sun beating down on her from overhead.

They climbed into his car and headed back to his house to shower and change for the wine tasting that night. Sara remained silent, deep in thought. She had a new understanding of this man and his feelings for her. Whether she could handle them or not was something else entirely.

 

T
HE WINE TASTING
was held at a town park, the land donated by a wealthy vineyard owner who’d had a part in organizing this annual event. Tents had been erected and placed around the area to help shade the event-goers from the heat until the sun finally went down well past 8:00 p.m. Hundreds of wine vendors from the Finger Lakes area showcased their wines.

Sara held Rafe’s warm hand inside hers as they made their way through the mass of people. She’d managed to avoid any intimacy between them while they were home and was still working on shoring up her defenses. Never before had she felt vulnerable to a man, and though she’d gone into this thing with Rafe
knowing it was risky, she’d never imagined that sex could lead to such complications. Not for a woman who prided herself on moving on without looking back.

And she had more important things to concentrate on than emotional attachments. So far neither she nor Rafe had noticed or felt anything out of the ordinary. No odd people watching her, just a lot of strangers milling around.

“Is it my imagination or is it twice as crowded tonight compared to earlier this afternoon?” she asked him.

“It’s not your imagination at all. And it’ll only get worse as the weekend goes by. Friday midday brings in stragglers who can take the time off from work to get here for the opening festivities. By Friday evening, you’ve got people who left work early, and by Saturday, things are in full swing,” Rafe explained.

She tried unsuccessfully to glance beyond the bodies into the individual booths to see what they were giving away. Frustrated, she gave up. “I’m not really a wine connoisseur, but how do you compare tastes at an event so crowded?”

“You don’t. Hang on.” He pushed through the mass of people and returned with a plastic cup of white wine. “When the festival first started, it was more about actual wine tasting and comparison. Lately it’s become a drinking, partying event.”

She laughed. “Works for me.” She raised her plastic cup.

“Me, too. So, when in Rome…” He lifted his cup. “To…” He trailed off, obviously stumped.

“To friends with benefits,” she said, touching her cup to his and solidifying what they were to each other by saying it aloud.

She’d been so thrown by his comment about having feelings for her while still engaged, by the way he’d looked at her while he was buried deep inside her body, so frightened by the wealth of emotions he’d made her feel, she had to gather her defenses.

He stared at her, dumbfounded. His eyes, once warm, frosted over. “Thank you for the reminder.” He straightened his shoulders, his emotional walls firmly in place.

It was what she wanted, what she needed to do for herself, and yet the sudden chill between them scared her more than the emotions that had swamped her earlier. “Rafe…”

“There’s a deejay beyond the tent. Let’s go listen to music,” he said, then clasped her hand and headed out of the crowd and the tents.

The closer they got to the open arena, the louder the music became, geared more toward the young kids, with what Sara recognized as Top 100 music keeping things hopping. And though Rafe remained by her
side, there was no warmth between them anymore, no relaxed enjoyment of their time together.

She’d blown that in one selfishly spoken, fear-induced toast.

Sara didn’t kid herself, either. If not for his promise to the captain to help keep her safe, Rafe would walk away and leave her behind. But Rafe was a stand-up, honorable guy. And he deserved a lot better than a commitment-phobic woman like her.

The next hour flew by in a blur of people, introductions and wine being passed around by different distributors who wanted people to taste their product. Sara had no time alone with Rafe, and he made it a point of keeping busy talking to his friends and neighbors—and of introducing her as his ex-partner visiting from the city.

Not even as his friend.

Her heart lodged in her throat, pain she herself had caused nearly swallowing her whole. Just when Sara thought she couldn’t stand his aloofness anymore, the deejay suddenly began to speak into the microphone, capturing the crowd’s attention.

“I’d like to get this party started! I want more people on the dance floor, so if I say
Snowball,
you all know what to do!” The music immediately switched into high gear, and people began to couple up to dance.

Rafe grabbed Sara, keeping his word to stick close.
He held on to her hand, doing the obligatory dance while keeping the pace slow, careful to watch out for her knee.

It was the first chance she’d had to get him alone, and though she wanted to apologize or at least try to explain her thoughtless words earlier, words failed her. She couldn’t just launch into a bumbling explanation of how much he meant to her, but she couldn’t allow herself to feel more.

“What’s Snowball?” she blurted out instead. She’d work her way up to the apology.

Rafe wasn’t in the mood to talk, but better to discuss the type of dance than get into a discussion of feelings. She obviously had none.

“Every few minutes, the deejay says
Snowball
and the music stops long enough for everyone to switch partners.” Which meant it was probably time for him to get Sara out of here, he thought.

He wasn’t looking forward to being alone with her in his house, where anything they did together was a reminder that they were just
friends with benefits.
Even now, the words stung.

He shouldn’t have been shocked by her proclamation. Even when they’d made love, he’d known the minute she realized there was more going on between them than sex. That second when they’d locked gazes and
more
passed between them, she’d panicked and
attempted to pull back, but even then, she’d asked him to
make love
to her.

And he had.

Afterward, he’d refused to let his mind go anyplace but forward, and her words had been like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He ought to thank her for the cold shock of reality before he deluded himself even more.

“Snowball!” the deejay called out.

Shit. Rafe tried to hang on to Sara’s hand, but his brother immediately cut in, leaving Rafe with no choice but to switch partners and dance with Angel while keeping an eye on Sara from a distance.

“Uh-oh. You look like you want to kill someone,” Angel observed.

He frowned. “Sorry. I was just thinking it’s time to get out of here. The crowds are getting to be a little much.”

BOOK: Love Me if You Dare
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