Always Love Me: A Standalone Second Chance Romance

by Derrick, Zoey

  Dribbler and Jessie leave the wheelhouse in favor of the stern and the dock most likely.

  “What are they shopping for?” Rebel asks as she grabs her coat to put it on.

  “Groceries.” A light bulb goes off. “Shit, what kind of food do you want? I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”

  She laughs, “No worries, I can eat what you guys eat.”

  I scrunch up my nose. “You might want to think about that. These guys are carb and grease-crazy fools. If there’s fresh veggies on board, you’ll be really lucky.”

  She shrugs. “Afraid I’ll get fat?” she laughs.

  I snort, “No, more that you’re probably not used to that kind of food every day. Eggs and bacon for breakfast, pasta for lunch and dinner.” I laugh, “When we’re fishing, the carbs are important. I guess they just get in the habit of eating that way all the time.”

  “Well, I can put together a list if it would make you feel better. Otherwise, I can just grab some stuff. Besides, we’ll be in port, not like we can’t go get something to eat.” She winks.

  “If you think I’m letting you off this boat after tomorrow, forget it.” I close the distance between us in two huge steps and wrap my arms around her.

  “I like the sound of that.” She returns my embrace as I kiss the top of her head.

  “I’d go get packed up and go shopping right now…” She trails off. Then giggles, “But I’d rather get drunk.”

  “Come on then.” I interlace our fingers, dragging her down the stairs into the empty galley. I pause, looking to the left and I see Tommy packing his stuff up. “Fly safe, brother,” I tell him.

  “Will do, see you back in Seattle.”

  “Yup.”

  I lead Rebel into the wet room. We pass Dribbler and Jessie who are smoking while sitting on stacks of crap they turned into chairs some years ago. I don’t even know what’s all under there anymore.

  “Be back tonight. Come join us if you want,” I tell both of them as we pass.

  “Or tomorrow,” Rebel teases.

  “Right-oh,” Jessie hollers after us. They probably won’t come. Dribbler’s one vice, besides cigarettes, in this world is alcohol. He kicked the habit a few years ago, and I know, especially when we’re in port, he struggles the most. I’m so happy Jessie is here for him. Jessie will keep him on the boat and busy. If it gets bad, the hydros will get fixed tonight. That’s what Dribbler does when he can’t hack.

  We step onto the deck, and Randy turns toward us. “Rebel, are you riding with us or Dirk?”

  I look down at her, our eyes meeting. I smile and shrug, letting her know it’s up to her.

  “Dirk.”

  Randy grins and nods. Kathleen has a Cheshire grin on her face when she notices Rebel’s hand in mine.

  “I need to call Diem,” Rebel says, reaching into her pocket for her phone. “He and Scott are at the house I rented. They were going to join us tonight so I could drink.”

  “Call him. He can take us both to your place.” I wink at her.

  Her mouth falls slack, and I feel her hand tighten around mine as she pictures what we’ve been doing on the boat. After a few heartbeats, she pulls herself together. “Don’t you have some place to sleep?” she asks.

  I frown, “Yes, but it’s here.” I point toward the cabin of the boat. “I don’t generally sleep on land.” Not here, and not at home. But we’ll save that tidbit for when I get her to Seattle.

  “Well, alrighty then,” she giggles. “My place it is.”

  “Good. Call him,” I tease and take her phone away from her as soon as she unlocks it.

  “Hey,” she says, reaching for it. I stretch to my full height and raise my arm. I don’t even have to straighten it to keep it out of her reach.

  I laugh. “Give me a second,” I tell her and look at the phone. I find the phone icon on the iPhone 11 Pro Max. It’s a model better than mine, but I need indestructible, and this screen scares the hell out of me. I go to contacts and click the plus and put my name in.

  Then I add my phone numbers. My cell, the boat’s sat-phone, the boat’s regular line. Then I add my email address, and I smirk when I add my address.

  I save it and then click on her contact information. I see everything from her email addresses, including work. Two phone numbers—cell and office. I smirk and click the send contact card button and it opens a text message. I fire it off to myself and then back out of everything. Just as I hand her phone back to her, mine chimes.

  “What did you do?” She cocks an eyebrow at me.

  “You’ll see.”

  I open my messages, and sure enough, all her information is there. Including her three addresses. I don’t ask about the third. One I know is home, the other is the office. I save it to my phone, and I text her back.

  Dirk to Rebel-girl: Hello Beautiful. Will you be my date tonight? I won’t take no for an answer.

  I hit send and her phone doesn’t make a noise but I see it light up. She blushes when she sees the message.

  Then I laugh when she starts texting me back but I look away, watching a couple ladies climb up the ladder for the dock.

  My phone chimes.

  I smirk.

  Looking at it.

  Rebel-girl to Dirk: What’s the point of asking if I can’t say no?

  I bust out laughing. Randy looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Kathleen looks like she’s on cloud nine as she looks at the two of us.

  “The point is not giving you a choice. I want you with me tonight.”

  “Yes,” she breathes. Her response holds a hint of unspoken promises I’m eager to explore.

  “Come on you two,” Randy hollers from the dock. His laugh follows shortly after.

  “Shall we?” I ask her.

  She straightens herself a bit; she still looks rattled by my request. It’s almost as if she’s internally pulling herself together when she retakes my hand.

  I lead her to the ladder and offer it to her first. Randy is on the pallets on the other side. She climbs down, and Randy offers her his hand. She takes it and jumps onto the shore. I smile and climb.

  I have no problem climbing up and down stairs, but this shit is for the birds as I climb up one foot at a time. I learned early on that climbing a ladder is difficult, no matter how many times I’ve done it. I just take my time and find my footing at the top. Rebel waits for me down a step. I smile and leap across. That I have down to a fucking science.

  Her face shows no impatience and no remorse for what I live with every day, and I can’t help but let it make me smile. One of the reasons I worked so hard at walking was because I didn’t want the looks of sympathy from people as I walked around. The only reason I keep a crutch on the boat is because getting out of bed in shitty seas is a bitch with two good legs, let alone one.

  Chapter 19

  Rebel

  I watch as Dirk disembarks. He moves quickly and nimbly with a practiced grace. If I hadn’t seen him naked, I would be none the wiser to his prosthesis. I can’t imagine the lengths he’s gone to in order to ensure his secret remains hidden from most people.

  When Dirk climbs off the stack, I notice he limps and jumps a bit, lifting his right leg as he goes. His face bunches in pain. “You alright?” I ask softly, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to him.

  “No,” he groans in pain.

  “What can I do?” I plead.

  “Come here,” he murmurs. I move to his right side. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and leans into me.

  “Better?”

  “Much,” he smiles at me.

  “What happened?” I inquire. I know his leg was hurting before, but he seemed okay once he got dressed.

  “I just stepped funny. Happens all the time, but I’m already sore.”

  He leans on me a little less the closer we get to the truck. The rest of the boat’s guests are getting into their vehicles, including Randy and Kathleen. Randy grins sweetly at me. He has a knowing look in his eyes; h
e understands. But to everyone else, it just looks like Dirk is holding me against him.

  We get to the driver’s side of the truck and he looks down at me. “Thank you,” he whispers before his lips find mine. I wrap my arms around him, holding him to me as my breathing falters and catches in the back of my throat. My pussy clenches with more need and desire. I love sex, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like I’ll never get enough of this man. I whimper as his tongue finds mine. He groans, pulling me into him. His hand slides to the back of my neck, gripping me and holding me tight.

  He gently grabs my lower lip with his teeth and I moan.

  Dirk breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine. We’re breathing hard. It takes a minute for my breathing to settle. “Come on, beautiful.” His smile reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners, making him look like the boy I knew 20 years ago. It steals my breath for a moment. I nod and move around the front of the truck and climb in. He climbs in and settles himself to drive.

  “I’m sorry you’re hurting,” I whisper.

  He looks at me, his eyes glistening with hope and happiness. “I’ll be all right.”

  “If you hurt this bad, why do you run the boat?” I question, inquisitiveness getting the better of me.

  He starts the truck and answers, “Normally, it’s not so bad, and I love what I do. It usually overrules everything else. But today has been…” He pauses, taking a deep breath, and I get his meaning.

  “Overwhelming,” I offer.

  “Yeah, that.” He puts the truck in drive, and we take off down the dock and around the building. We’re back on the road headed into town.

  “Are we going to the bar?” I ask.

  “Yup.”

  I pull my phone from my purse and find Diem’s number. I press the call button.

  “Hey,” he answers after barely a ring.

  “Hey, we’re headed to the bar,” I tell him.

  “I’ll be there shortly. How’d it go?” he asks.

  “It was…” I exhale, “emotional.”

  “Understandable, but you’re okay?”

  I smile. “I am now, yes.”

  “Good. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “We need to talk, there’s a change of plans for tomorrow.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ll explain when I see you,” I tell him.

  “Alright, see you soon.”

  “Yup.” I hang up.

  “What’d he say?” Dirk inquires when I toss my phone into my purse.

  “Oh?” I laugh. “He accepted my answer. So, I will let him know when he gets to the bar.”

  “He won’t give you any trouble, will he?”

  I raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re kidding, right?” He looks at me and shakes his head. “I pay him. He is my employee. I do what I want, and he has no choice but to follow along with my plans.”

  He nods. “I understand that, but I imagine the change in plans might make him a little uncomfortable if he’s that protective of you,” Dirk states matter-of-factly.

  “Maybe, but regardless of how he feels about it, what I do is my choice. The only person I see throwing a fit about it is Dawson.”

  “Who’s Dawson?” Dirk asks.

  “My assistant in New York. Everything is crazy back in New York. As much as he’s my assistant, he’s also my right hand. I couldn’t ask for a better assistant.”

  “Sounds like a great guy,” Dirk remarks.

  “He really is.” I smile thinking about Dawson. I look at my watch, calculating the time in New York, and decide against calling him. Dawson is always on call, but it’s after 10:00 in New York. “He’ll either be pissed off or ridiculously happy. I’m not sure which side of him will come out,” I laugh.

  “Well, let’s hope for the happy Dawson,” Dirk chuckles. “Are you going to call him?”

  “Nope, it’s after 10:00 back home. It can wait until tomorrow. Besides, it’s Saturday, he’s probably in a bar somewhere trying to pick up a date.”

  “Like you’d be doing right now?”

  I scowl at him. “You think you know me so well,” I grumble.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Yes,” I say terse.

  He catches it and glares at me. “Tell me something then.”

  “What?” I snap.

  “Have you slept with anyone since January?”

  I glare at him. “Do you really want that answer?”

  “Yes, because I don’t think you have.”

  Fucker. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying,” I grumble.

  “What was that?” He quirks an eyebrow up in question, side-eyeing me as he drives.

  “It wasn’t for a lack of effort,” I say louder.

  “Struck out, did ya?”

  “More like Dirk’d out,” I groan.

  His head snaps in my direction. “What was that?”

  “No, I didn’t sleep with any men because every time I tried to take anyone home, I got into my own head and couldn’t stop thinking about you,” I groan and fold my arms over my chest.

  “That’s what I thought.” He scowls and cocks his head; I can see the wheels turning as he processes what I just said. “Wait…didn’t sleep with any men?” he asks for clarification.

  “No, I didn’t sleep with any men.”

  “How many women?” he asks terse.

  “Three.”

  “Didn’t do it for you, did it?”

  “Such a smug ass, aren’t you?” I snap, irritated that he can see through me like this. I’ve never let anyone get close to me for this reason, and it’s pissing me off and seriously making me rethink this change of plans. We’re too close. Too fucking close for comfort. “Are you saying you’ve slept with other women?” I counter, trying to turn the heat off of me.

  He pulls up to a light, stopping, and he looks at me. “I flew to New York to seek you out and fuck you stupid…what do you think?”

  “That you’re desperate,” I quip looking straight ahead.

  He laughs, like deep belly laughs. “Oh sweetheart, I am far from desperate. I didn’t need to fly to New York to fuck you or anyone else.”

  “Then maybe you should go find them,” I snap.

  He glares at me, narrowing his eyes. I can’t tell if it’s irritation or anger staring back at me. The light changes, and the car behind him honks. “Fuck,” he snaps, turning back to the steering wheel and slamming on the gas pedal. The tires squeal and spin before he lets up enough for them to find traction, and off we go. I hear him take a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

  I shake my head and close my eyes. I’m not sure what I’m more pissed off about. The fact that he read me like a fucking book and played my strings like a guitar in the most expert way. Or the fact that while I’ve been so fucked in the head over a one-night stand with this jackass. “So, you felt nothing in New York?” I whisper, unable to trust my voice.

  “I didn’t say that,” he says slow and deliberate. “But I tried to fuck you from my system.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “Fucking failed miserably,” he admits.

  I still can’t look at him. “What are we doing, Xavier?” I ask bluntly.

  He side-eyes me, but keeps his eyes on the road. We’re in town and there’s a little more traffic. Though, I say more, but it’s like five cars. One of which is Randy and Kathleen’s truck. I just stare at it. Waiting for his answer.

  It doesn’t come.

  Then he’s turning into a parking lot, and we’re pulling in front of the bar. People are climbing out of various vehicles, most of them are obviously fishermen in boots, slicks, and rain jackets. There are a few dressed like Randy, Kathleen, and myself. Though, I don’t recognize anyone from our boat except the three bitches I kicked off earlier today getting out of a car near the side of the bar. I shake my head.

  I feel his hand at my side and he unclicks my belt. I look at him. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Come here,” he says softly, and he
grabs my arm. I relent and let him slide me over the bench seat and then he’s lifting me up, pulling me onto his lap. I’m impressed at his strength. I’m not overly heavy, but my five-nine frame isn’t light by any stretch of the imagination. I’m settled on his lap and his left hand reaches up, pulling my beanie off my head and my hair falls down my back. His hand goes into my hair. His other hand wraps around my waist, pulling me into him, and his face goes into the crook of my neck where my shoulder comes together.

  I hear him inhale my scent.

  “I don’t know,” he says.

  “Don’t know what?” I retort softly.

  “What we’re doing. But fuck if I can stop myself from finding out.” His voice is husky,

  “Have you slept with anyone since January?” I ask, again being blunt, and I honestly don’t know if I want the answer to that question.

  “No, beautiful girl, I haven’t.” He sighs. “As much as I wanted to, to purge you from my system, I just couldn’t do it.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” I need to know what’s really in his head. I need to know so I can decide if these next few days are going to kill him or me faster.

  He pulls back, his hand at my waist coming to my chin, turning me to look at him. “I’m trying to tell you, Skylar, that I let you walk away 20 years ago because I was young and you were younger. I was stupid. I…” He drops off.

  “You what?” I ask.

  He gives me a sad smile. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “I can’t let you walk away again. It’s why I left that morning. I could have woken you. I could have…” Again, he pauses, and he takes a deep breath. “But I needed time to sort out what happened that night. I needed time to process. I knew exactly who you were, and you didn’t know who I was. I thought I could use that to let you go. That if you’d cared anything for me 20 years ago, you’d have known exactly who I was.”

  “Xavier, I didn’t….”

  “Shh,” he breathes. “It’s alright. I understand now why you didn’t realize it was me. But I used it as an excuse, and it didn’t work.”