Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1) (15 page)

Refreshed and relaxed from a nice long, hot bath, Sam made her way through the hallway, following the incredible aroma that was filling every corner of every room. Her heart stopped ever so briefly, stunned and flattered by the sight before her in her living room—ivory colored candles of every shape and size bejeweled every available surface around the room, granting a certain ambiance of enchantment and romance.

As she scanned the room, eyes welling over, she took in the floral arrangement that sat in the middle of the buffet. It was surrounded by the mouthwatering feast he had prepared for her, that rested adjacent to couch he had set up for her comfort. Nobody had ever gone to such lengths for her. If she weren’t already head over heels for him, this would have sealed the deal in a heartbeat; how incredibly charming. Her life was becoming nothing short of a swoon worthy fairy tale.

He walked into the room, her frilly apron around his waist, each hand adorned in a pink flowery oven mitt, holding more plates of delicious smelling food that may or may not be the reason why her mouth was watering. Stopping dead in his tracks, shocked to see her standing there, he looked down at his hands and apron, before giving her a sheepish grin and raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I thought you were still in the…bath.”

“Nice outfit, did Ellie dress you?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, funny. So I thought I would have all this set up before you…”

“Its fine, Dawson, its lovely, really.”

“I thought sitting in the living room would be more comfortable for you.”

He had a bashfulness about him that she had not seen before tonight, almost shy, so utterly adorable and endearing. She was flattered by his efforts and attentiveness; he planned this night completely for, and around her circumstance, leaving her absolutely giddy. Her big, sexy, six plus foot, behemoth of a man’s man, standing before her, in pink, flowers, and frills melted her heart, made her warm in all the right places, but it also made her laugh, out loud.

“You’re really helping my ego,” he muttered, sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, it’s the pink and the frill. You’re basically in a pink flowery dress. So pretty!”

Her subtle chuckle turned to roaring laughter as his fists found his halfcocked hips, and his front foot began to tap like a scolding mother to a toddler. He turned on one foot, nose in the air, and left for the kitchen in an obvious pout, while she fell to the couch behind her, unable to contain herself, healing ribs beginning to ache. She hadn’t laughed like that in a great while. Laughter was healing, despite the pain, he was good for her.

***

The next several hours were spent indulging in the amazing meal he had prepared, and sharing the details of their lives they had yet to exchange. His story broke her heart and made sense of the person he was. He lost his entire family, those he loved most in this world, in a most tragic way.

After a disagreement with his father about joining the ranks of the family business that he had zero interest in, he was prompted to delay his trip a day to Aspen, where they would spend the holidays as usual, the only one to skip the flight, while he got his wits about him. He was left with tremendous guilt when their plane went down in the mountains in a freak accident, just before reaching their destination, leaving no survivors.

How cliché was that? The man who spent his entire life with deep rooted desires, a calling if you will, to help others and rescue anything from a stray cat to a dismally injured person, couldn’t do anything to help those he loved most. His disconnected affections, when she met him, made absolute sense. This is why he
didn’t date
and never saw the same woman twice. He was a great friend to those in their circle, but he had boundaries and kept everyone at arm’s length, until now.

Honored to be the one he let in, she vowed to never take it for granted. He was an alpha, take charge, hunky guy on the outside, but what she found on the inside was a sweet, caring, selfless man that was as gentle as he was thoughtful. It was in that moment that she realized that this
relationship
, that had yet to be fully defined, was as much a risk for Dawson as it was for her.

***

Sharing his story with Sam was freeing, he had not really spoken of it with anyone, until now. Discussing it, hearing it out loud, somehow put it to rest, after a decade; he would never forget, nor would he be haunted by it anymore. She allowed him that freedom, the ability to leave it behind and move on, without boundaries, and truly live for the first time in years.

She didn’t judge him, didn’t cast blame, just listened, and sympathized. Ironic, he thought, that two people with such binding, life hindering pasts could find each other, and heal one another. The only two people in their confined world that
didn’t date
, needed each other to move on with their lives, fate clearly intervened.

She filled all that he didn’t realize was missing or empty, she completed him. She understood loss through her own experience, so she understood him. She grieved a father she never really knew and a mother who chose men over her at every turn. Abandoned and lonely, she related to his guarded heart, because she was guarded. Their lives were perfectly paralleled through differing fortuity, yet still mirrored each other in a predestined connection.

***

“Wow! That…was…amazing!” Sam said leaning back into the pillows, hands over her stomach, indicating just how amazing and filling it was.

“I can’t take all the credit! It was Lou’s meat sauce recipe and Baker’s provided the bread and Tiramisu, but that salad, it was all me!” He offered proudly. Still learning his way around the kitchen, he would take whatever credit he could get.

“The salad was the best part, though!” She prided, allowing him a heroic kitchen win. It truly was a great salad, he deserved a pat on the back, even if it was really the pasta, bread, and dessert that sealed the deal and added ten pounds to her waistline just by looking at it. It may not have been his recipe, but he killed it in the kitchen tonight and that counted for something.

“I think you are trying to make up for that dress comment,” he fussed, obviously not ready to let her off the hook for her teasing, even if he too found it funny. No, he was going to let this one ride and see where it got him.

“Maybe. Seriously though, this was an amazing night, you went to a lot of trouble, made all of my favorites, no one has ever done that for me—thank you,” she said, all jokes aside. He really had gone above and beyond for her, and without trying, it was just him and what he did, a quality she found so true to who Dawson really was.

He leaned in and gave her a passionate kiss before removing what was left of their dishes and dessert, and put them in their designated spots in the kitchen, which he had already cleaned after he finished preparing their meals. No distractions, that was the goal, not even dishes! Her words lingered as he dove into thought about what she had said—
nobody had ever done this for her.
It saddened him, that thought, that such a little gesture went so far with her, and that he was the first to ever do it. She deserved nights like tonight, many, time and time again, he was committed to making that magic happen for her, as often as she would let him.

When he returned to her in the living room, he found her staring out the window with a distant melancholy look about her. Afraid the progress they had made was somehow lost, a subtle sense of insecurity settled in as he approached her, ready to fix whatever was broken in her world at the moment. Seeing her like this hurt him as much as anything could, he was so invested in her that even her emotions affected him.

He questioned her, hoping that insecurity wasn’t apparent, but that his genuine concern was. “Sam?”

“I’m fine.” The spell broken, she slowly turned to him with a faint smile, which was covered in what looked like sadness, when her eyes began to shine and tears threatened to spill over. “I’m just…being silly.”

“You can talk to me,” he stated, desperate to fix whatever was plaguing her. “What just took you away from here and left you…left you, not you?”

“This,” she said, waving a single arm in front of her, indicating everything before her.

Dawson’s heart sank at her admission. He thought they had made certain progress, that
this
was going well, and both were engaged in whatever
this
was. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand, I thought…“

She cut him off before he could say another word, realizing she was sending mixed signals and giving him a false sense that there was a problem, there was no problem, and
that
was the problem. “Dawson, it’s not what you are thinking. I’m sorry, I’m just a mess these days, this isn’t me, I’m normally much more together, and a hell of a lot less needy and nutty.”

He chuckled at her response, understanding that there were more layers to get through, and they had only reached the top. She was nervous, but why. “You can talk to me, you can tell me anything, let me help, Sam.”

There was that faint smile and the threatening tears finally breached their barrier, streaming her face, oh shit, we have tears. “I know, and that’s just it. You. You are
amazing
.
This
is amazing,” she finished, waving her arms again as if everything that represented them and their relationship was in that very room and she wanted him to see it.

“Oh. I see. Okay, I don’t see! I don’t understand what the problem is, help me understand so I can help.” He was frustrated, but tried to keep it at bay, he was still new to this
relationship
stuff and didn’t quite speak emotional woman, fluently.

Hands to her face, she looked down and shook her head with a dry chuckle, realizing she was all over the place, not even certain she was making sense to herself, or how to explain this feeling, this fear. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m just programmed to expect the worst, to expect this to end. I’m not exactly a fairy tale come true kind of girl.” Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She knew Dawson wasn’t her father, nor her mother, or even the father of an unborn Ellie, but the damage they had done seemed to hover in this moment. “I’m happy, Dawson, so deeply and painfully, blissfully happy and I’m afraid to be. I’m just waiting for you to leave and I don’t want you to.”

He took the seat beside her and pulled her to his lap where he held her close, kissing her forehead. “Sam, I’m not going anywhere, I am not leaving.”

Tears in full motion, nearly sobbing, she rested her head on his shoulder, wanting desperately to believe him, and wishing she didn’t feel so foolish wearing her emotions on her sleeve, or rather streaming down her cheeks as they were . “You make me happy, you make me feel safe, despite what has happened. You just came in here, swept me off my feet, swept
Ellie
off
her
feet…I’m afraid to be this kind of happy,” she paused as her voice shrank to a mere whisper, “ it hasn’t worked out well for me before.”

He stopped her, held her face, wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, then said everything she needed to know with a deep passionate kiss that was so full of meaning, full of intent. He took pride in her words, and felt relieved that their biggest obstacle right now was that she didn’t want him to leave, which was easy, because he wasn’t going anywhere. “All I
want
is for you and El to be happy. I want to
make
you happy. You have my heart, Sam, you both do, probably more so than I yours.”

The admission was as stunning to him as it was her, he really was ready to show all his cards, let her know he was all in, for good. “I could never hurt you, my life is better because of you, you give me purpose and joy. I feel like the luckiest guy to have you two in my life. You are my whole world, Sam. I love…”

Before he could finish his declaration, she had her arms around his neck, mouth to his, understanding and accepting everything he just put on the table. He lifted her with him, hands on her waist, when she said, “Me too.”

His bold smile and raised eyebrows gave everything away as their moods changed with the relief her words offered. As he pulled her closer and lifted her in the air, tossing her legs around his waist, he headed toward the hallway to her bedroom. Her head tossed back, chuckling at his playfulness, he found her neck, and made his way down her collar bone, before she hollered, “Candles!”

Stopping dead in his tracks, he quickly turned back to the room, arms full of Sam, blowing out each candle, while still holding her, until the last candle. He grabbed the final candle and handed it to her without blowing it out. “We’re taking this one with us.”

The room was dim, yet perfectly illuminated by the lone candle salvaged from their romantic evening, cascading their dancing shadows around the room. He gently put her down, mindful of her leg, and just stood there, admiring her, gazing so deeply into her eyes, she could feel him without a touch. He moved closer, not an inch to spare between them, bodies touching, the heat exhilarating.

Dawson reached for the hem of her fitted t-shirt and lifted it slowly over her head, enjoying his view, while exposing her nearly nude bust and abdomen. She grabbed his hands as he touched the scars left from her accident, but he responded by kissing each one, slow and soft, loving them, as much as he loved her. As he made his way down her body, he reached for the clasp of her bra, releasing her breasts that were clearly anxious for his touch.

Hands in his hair, as he made his way around her body, her erotic instincts took over and she reached for his shirt, removing it, wanting to feel his bare skin against hers. Pleased by her action, he rewarded her with his tongue lashing against one pebbled nipple, while thumbing the other, making her knees weak. God, he was good at that. He roamed her body, worshiping every inch of it, showing her how deeply he loved her, kissing, sucking, and nipping along the way.

He found his way to her collar bone, with his mouth, slowly moving to the sensitive side of her neck, while his hands fondled her breasts, massaging and tweaking as he saw fit, causing her breathing to become heavy and seductive. She was nearly his undoing when he felt her reach under the waist band of the sweats he was wearing, forcing them to the ground, before grabbing his goods with both hands.

Abundantly pleased with her more than a handful, she returned the pleasure he was sharing, matching his intensity, and pleased when his head fell back in response. Seeing his chiseled, hard body before her, took her breath away, just looking at him, and his beautiful body gave her pleasure and nearly finished her. She missed this part of her man.
Her
man, that felt right, he felt right, and she wanted to show him just how right they were together. She stroked him in a rhythmic motion that his breathing soon matched.

Dawson grabbed her by the hips, trying to distract himself with her body, not wanting to finish this way, above all not before her. He slid his hands down her sides, stopping at the tight little yoga pants she was wearing. The pants had been giving him a hard on all night. He needed to thank somebody for yoga pants, because they did wonderful things to her ass and he couldn’t stop staring at it.

His hands drifted below the cotton waist where they were met with surprise. No fucking panties! His eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store, only he wasn’t a kid, and this candy was fucking hot, and covered in sexy. “Commando?”

“They’re yoga pants, always.” She was a damn tease and knew it. Having a half-naked, smoldering hot woman in front of him did great things for his libido, but no underwear? Hallelujah, Lord have mercy, his virile proclivities took over like primal animalistic instincts.

He knelt before her, taking her pants with him, and he put her leg over his shoulder, opening her wide for his own pleasure, as much as hers. She drove him crazy in the most sensual and erotic way, he wanted to pleasure her, until she was fully sated, and completely spent.

He started high on her abdomen and kissed his way down to her core, where he was already stroking her folds, finding her sweet spot. Working her over, taking as much pleasure as he gave, his mouth found heaven, just as he slipped a finger inside her hot, swollen center that was so wet and ready for him.

She grabbed his hair; it was all that she could hold of him, while the rest of him was between her legs, about to give her a grand finale. She leaned back against the wall, unable to stay upright on her own, balancing on one leg, while the other was over his shoulder, as he continued to gratify the need he created. Her breathing quickened when his second finger entered, stroking her inner core, and his free hand went to work on one of her breasts.

She was reminded of their night at the creek, how he managed to pleasure her in every way, all at once, and this was no second place. No, he knew her, knew what she needed, knew what she
wanted
, and what she wanted was dirty and carnal, in the best possible way. She could hardly handle the intense bliss he was creating; breathing fast, moaning, calling his name, when euphoria settled around her and she came hard, literally at the hands of her man.

He enjoyed the waves of her ecstasy for a few more minutes, but couldn’t contain his own need any longer. Feeling her erotic finish was invigorating and was nearly his ending too. He removed his fingers and worked his way back up, not taking his time this round. No, he was a man on a mission, ready to take care of the needs she inspired.

He lifted her against the wall, her legs found his waist, and his mouth found hers. Still coming down from her high, she quickly found his rock hard manhood and took him in, all of him, in one erotic motion, and he was gone. She moved slowly, feeling every inch of him, enjoying every inch of him, while their hard purposeful kisses told a story only they heard. She was taking control, and he let her.

She took him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust; she was a goddess. Riding him faster and harder, against the wall, it was his turn to go weak in the knees as she generated a scene, worthy of a racy movie, he had to move. Never losing contact, he moved them to the bed where he sat down, and helped her finish, matching her every move, motion for motion, until he couldn’t hold back anymore and completely let go riding the final waves of their steamy encounter.

He held her the rest of the night, making love to her several times. This time, however, it was slow and sensual, marking the beginning of their beautiful love story. This day couldn’t have been more right, a defining, turning moment for both of them. The early morning approached when they drifted off to sleep, drawing a close to their magical evening, just as the candle dimmed.

***

Dawson woke her the next morning with a gentle kiss and a big, hot cup of coffee in hand, before he ran to town for some much needed sugary goodness from Baker’s. He missed their mornings there, and after such a great evening that lasted well into the early morning hours he thought it would be a nice way to keep it going—fritters together, like they had before the accident.

He gave her a beautiful smile that made her putty in his hands, she could get used to waking to this face every morning. Noticing he had his shoes and jacket on, she was secretly hoping he was just a get dressed, no lounging around in sweats kind of guy, because the idea of him leaving, even for a little while, made her miss him before he was even gone. She was relieved it was a quick fritter run, which had her heart racing. She missed their morning fritters together, as much as he did.

Not wanting to bother Gran or Evie, who were probably still recovering from late night shenanigans with Ellie, she convinced him to just go and not bother them, she didn’t need a
babysitter
for such a quick trip. She was going to shower and had a few things to tend to anyway, so the time would pass quickly. He left reluctantly, promising to make a quick trip of it, with a short detour to take some sweets to the gang down at the house. What could happen in an hour?