The Fall (23 page)

“Thirty percent,” I shot back.

“Pucker up, baby,” Ollie said confidently.

“Atta boy,” I said before shutting his door.

“He’s right, you know. You wear your heart on your sleeve. You are going to need to toughen up.”

“I’m tough!” I defended.

“In the smart assed, sassy, women’s lib kind of way. But you’re emotional, too.”

“Ew,” I said, walking toward the elevator. “I’m off to the dark side with Pierce. Wish me luck.”

“I had fun. Thanks for today,” he said, getting in the elevator with me.

“Sure,” I nodded pushing the button for each of our floors.

“So was that speech about love more for you or for me?” he asked as he took a step toward me. “I don’t believe a word of it.”

“Stop it,” I hissed vehemently.

“Let me get it right this time,” he said. I looked up to see him coming at me full force, his lips crashing down to mine. I yelped and he used it to his advantage as he thrust his tongue in deeply, taking my breath away. I sank against the elevator as he made love to my mouth urgently and said a quick “I’m not giving up” then let me go abruptly before the doors opened to let others on. I stood gasping and mourning the loss of him as the new crowd of riders stared at me oddly. I recovered, mumbling “Texas heat” as I fanned myself. A few of them nodded and one commented, “Supposed to reach one hundred and four today.” Dean didn’t bother to mask his laughter as he eyed me. When we were alone again, I glared at him while he whistled. I got out on my floor, flipping him off before the doors closed.

I heard Beatrice laughing hysterically as she caught my obscene gesture. I turned to see her hands up in defense as I gave her the evil eye. “What did he do?”

I shook my head as I pulled my phone out of my pocket to send a quick text.

DALLAS: I don’t want to be your friend.

DEAN: That makes two of us.

DALLAS: That’s not what I meant. Keep your hands and mouth off of me! It’s assault!

DEAN: That’s not what your tongue told me.

DALLAS: Go to hell.

DEAN: I was there yesterday, naked and on top of you.

I let out a frustrated groan as I threw up my hands. I spent the latter part of my shift cursing in frustration as I finished my charts alone in my office.

"I love you, I've always loved you, you own my heart, I have never loved anyone else". Laura (Room 212)

Dallas

• Now
  

Sunday I was at my mother’s, waiting on the arrival of my sister and her future husband. I spent the day decorating the house for the celebration, helping her cut roses from the garden and arranging them throughout the lower level of our family home. It looked absolutely perfect by the time guests started to arrive. Most were friends of Rose, who I’d met throughout the years, and a few friends of Grant. I’d learned from my mother Grant had recently been orphaned after his father’s recent passing and had no other living relatives. His mother had passed a few years prior, and besides the few friends invited here today, my sister was all he had left. I felt a certain level of sympathy and protectiveness for him and my sister’s bond before I’d even had a chance to meet him. I hoped I would feel the same as my mother and be able to embrace this stranger enough to trust him with the happiness of the person closest to me.

I opened the door for the next guest and froze. “Dean, what are you doing here?” He looked absolutely gorgeous in khaki slacks and a white button down shirt. He held a case of expensive champagne and gave me a knowing smile. I was instantly on guard.

“You look beautiful. Mind if I set this down?” I opened the door to usher him in then greeted the people waiting behind him.

“Jennifer,” I said, greeting Rose’s roommate and her longtime boyfriend Alex.

“Hey, Dallas,” she said as she walked in holding his hand. “Are they here?”

“Not yet.” I smiled, grabbed the wine she offered then followed them in. “What do you think of him?”

“Just wait,” she said, giving me a wink. “You’ll love him, I promise.”

“So I hear.” I suddenly felt the overwhelming guilt of not having met him. It seemed I would be the last one. Dean walked back to me from the kitchen, his scent intoxicating me. I was dressed in a floor length taupe dress that highlighted the small amount of curves I had and was accented by a little bit of sexy with thigh high slits on each side. I wore a pair of high-heeled wedge sandals that added height as I took Dean in at eye level. I’d worn my dark brown hair down in soft waves and done light makeup, aside from a heavy emphasis on my green eyes. I felt feminine, a feeling I had long missed since my daily wardrobe at home consisted of yoga pants. Dean’s appraisal of me now, made me feel even more so.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said as he walked up to me and gave me a brief hug in greeting.

“Thank you, you look nice as well,” I commented letting my eyes take him in.

“I was invited,” he said carefully as he weighed my reaction to him, “by your mother.”

“Of course you were,” I said in slight amusement.

“Dean! Oh, honey, you came!” My mother said, stepping between us to give him a long hug. I took a step back and blew out a frustrated breath as my mother rambled on.

“Dear, God, you are gorgeous!” she complimented as she hugged him again, giving me a subtle wink. I rolled my eyes.

“Dean, what are you drinking?” I snapped rudely, which got me an amused look from both of them.

“Scotch?” he asked my mother who nodded.

“I’ve got it,” I said, walking out of the room, but not before I heard her tell him. “Give her time. She’ll come around.” I paused, waiting on his reply.

“I’m counting on it.”

Don’t hold your breath, asshat.

As strong as my attraction to him might have been, I had no intention of giving in. The sooner they accepted it the better. They could plot all they wanted. Every day I was determined to get stronger in my resolve and more confident in my decision in regards to my life. I returned to the living room, Dean’s scotch in my hand as he shook hands with my father, both of them smiling.

“It’s so good to see you, Dean,” my father said, patting his back as they chatted away. I held Dean’s drink toward him, eager to get away from the love fest. Dean took it without looking my way.

“You’re welcome,” I said heatedly as he leaned over and brushed my cheek in the most tender kiss.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding in my direction before ripping his eyes away from mine and concentrating on my father’s words. I stood motionless for a few seconds then turned on my heel.

“You must be so proud of them,” Dean said, humoring my father, though I heard a sense of pride in his voice as well.

“Hellooo!” Rose called from the entryway.

“Oh!” I said, turning the corner and froze when I took in the sight before me. Grant was brushing her hair away from her face as he murmured in her ear. She looked absolutely beautiful as she smiled and nodded before chasing his words with a soft kiss. Grant saw me first.

“Dallas.” He smiled as he made his way toward me. I stood motionless, unsure of how to greet him, before he pulled me in a long hug. The first thing that hit me was the sheer size of him. He must have stood six foot four and had the build of a lumberjack. He felt like he was made of stone as he swallowed me in his arms. He pulled back, smiling as I caught his deep blue eyes twinkling. I was instantly smitten. He was a beautiful man and warmness emulated from his every pore. “I promise, I’ll be so good to her. I’ll be a good brother, too.”

My eyes watered as I nodded to him and he pulled me in for another hug. My eyes met my sister’s over his shoulder as she teared up herself.
Wow
.

There was something comforting about Grant’s presence, something that made him special, and I wasn’t immune to it. My mother and father came in to greet them both, and after they were greeted with words of congratulations and fierce hugs, the champagne began to flow and the music started. Rose had decided to have a small wedding on New Year’s Eve. I watched her and Grant make their rounds to greet their guests. Grant shook Dean’s hand, and I could tell he too was impressed with him as I listened to their conversation. Grant seemed to be naturally honest and had an air about him that people seemed to embrace. Rose was absolutely glowing as she watched him.

My mother beamed at the happy couple as I watched the two of them steal a kiss, or give each other a knowing look. It was insanely intimate and I could feel their connection and found myself a little envious of what they shared. More so, I was elated that Rose had found Grant. He had long jet-black hair that suited him. He was no Dean Martin, but I had no doubt he’d been a heart breaker just the same. I watched as he caressed my sisters hand, adored her with his eyes. They were breathtaking.

“It’s a beautiful thing to watch,” Dean said, taking me by surprise. “You used to look at your parents that way.”

“I still do,” I admitted as Grant pulled Rose’s hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles before turning to give his attention to my mother.

“I like him. They seem good together,” he said before turning to me. I ripped my eyes away from my sister to look over at him. His eyes were roaming my body.

“Would you like some more scotch?” I asked, still playing hostess.

“No,” he said roughly.

“Dean—”

“What I want is to throw you over my shoulder, drive you back to my house, and make love to you all day long, and every day after that for the rest of your life.”

I pushed out a shaky breath.

“You used to look at me that way,” he said, his voice full of remorse, his face filled with longing. “I’d give anything to have that look back. I want you with every single breath I take. Familiar or not, I want all of you.”

Paralyzed by his confession and unable to tear my eyes away, I stood on my newly shaky legs, completely speechless. Dean had never been a subtle man, especially when it came to the way he felt about me, aside from hiding his feelings in high school. Our adult relationship had been the opposite. Dean had never once held back from exactly what he wanted me to know about himself, the way he felt about me, and what our relationship had meant to him. It kept me more than sated in our union. It was one of the reasons I had trusted him so completely when we were together, and why I’d fallen so damn hard.

He’d never made me guess about his whereabouts, never purposefully made me jealous. He never played games with me. I always knew where I stood and it was always as his first priority. I lied to Ollie about the fact that he’d been a shitty boyfriend. He had been an amazing friend and lover. A flood of memories came back all at once, rushing to the surface, and making their presence known. These memories consisted of nothing but the talks we used to have about our future, days and nights filled with endless laughter and amazing sex, rainy days spent studying while trying to remain dressed in my dorm room, our summer at the lake, and the last unbeatable night Dean had called me his own. Fighting with him had even been enjoyable in its own right. I saw all these things in the crystal blue depths of his eyes. He was a passionate man, much like his mother, a natural romantic. It never felt forced with him, only natural. I’d never left his side without a smile, or his bed without feeling completely full of him, confident in our relationship.

“You remember,” he whispered as he pulled my hand to his beautiful full lips and placed small sensual kisses against my knuckles before letting it go. I nodded in agreement to his statement. We
were
beautiful. If not the same, than even more so than Rose and her fiancé. Loud laughter filled the room next to us as the front door opened and Josh walked in then froze. Our posture was intimate, though we were feet apart as he openly glared at us.

“I’ll refill my own glass, thank you.” Dean acknowledged Josh with a nod as he made his way back to the party.

“Why the hell is he here?” Josh said, irritated as he scanned me from head to toe as he approached me.

“My mother invited him. He’s an old friend of the family. Rose wanted him here,” I defended.

“I thought he was an old college friend,” he bit out viciously, unable to hide his distaste.

“I’ve known him since high school,” I said, dreading his reaction.

“I got my shift covered at the last minute and thought I’d surprise you. Looks like you weren’t missing me,” he hissed, leaning in possessively.

“Stop it. Don’t act like a jerk. This is an important night for my sister,” I scolded. “Don’t act pissy around my family.”

“Fine, you’re right, but you promised me you would stay away from him.”

“Again, I didn’t invite him, but he’s not going anywhere. You might want to get used to that,” I said defiantly as he gripped my wrist, turning me to face him.

“And I’m not supposed to take offense to that? I’m thinking maybe you don’t want me here. It’s written all over your face.”

“Suit yourself,” I said, ripping my wrist away and rubbing the soreness out from his too tight grip.

“Josh,” my father greeted, “come and see my newest design.” I mouthed a thank you to my father, who seemed to be picking up on the animosity between us.

“Sir, it’s good to see you,” he greeted, shaking his hand. I looked up to see Dean had watched the scene play out. His deadly gaze was fixed on Josh. I shook my head at him then turned my attention to Rose.

Now was not the time. I hurried upstairs to get myself together. I walked into the bathroom, seeing evidence of my arousal from Dean’s words all over my face. I shook it off. I didn’t want to entertain it any further or I was sure I would happily let him whisk me away to fulfill his promise to touch me the way I craved him. Every word I’d said, every promise I’d made to myself fell away with Dean’s words. I couldn’t stop shaking. If I gave in to Dean, what would that say about me? I’d come so far from the girl who had begged him not to break her heart in New York, from the fifteen-year-old who vied desperately for his attention. No matter what decision I made about Dean, I was becoming more certain about Josh. He was right. I hadn’t wanted him there. I should have been relieved when he showed up. I had been slowly withdrawing from him and he knew it, but I refused to let Dean be the reason.

“There you are,” Rose said as I made my way down the stairs. “I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I’ve been playing hostess, but I’m all yours,” I said cheerfully.

“Come on, let’s go hit our spot,” she said, grabbing my hand. She led me out to my mother’s rose garden where we took a seat on the cedar bench. It had been a rendezvous point for the women of our family for as long as I could remember.

“He’s beautiful, Rose, truly,” I complimented as she smiled broadly.