Second Chance on Cypress Lane--Includes a Bonus Novella

by Reese Ryan

  God, he wanted this woman. More than anything.

  Suddenly, the opening chords of Donny Hathaway’s “A Song for You” blared, startling both of them. They pulled away from each other, chests heaving, as they turned toward her purse on the counter.

  “It’s my dad. He’s probably wondering why I didn’t come home last night, especially since my luggage is sitting by the front door.” Dakota whispered the words with a hint of apology. She rummaged inside her small purse for the phone and answered the call as Dex tried his best to slow his breathing, hoping Oliver wouldn’t hear him and wonder what the hell was going on.

  “Good morning, Dad. How are you?” Dakota raked her fingers through her disheveled hair. The same glossy strands he’d sifted his fingers through moments earlier. “Yes, I’m fine. We fell asleep during the second movie, so I just spent the night at Sin’s. I’m having breakfast now. No, I don’t need you to pick me up,” she added after a few moments of silence on her side of the conversation. “Dex lives in Sin’s building. I’ll catch him before he leaves, and we’ll swing by to pick up my luggage before we head to the airport.” A smile spread across her face. “You know I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, Dad. See you in a little bit. Thanks for checking on me.”

  Dakota ended the call and set the phone on the counter. She slipped her arms around Dexter’s waist, pulling him forward again. Her eyes gleamed and her sexy little smirk made his heart—and other parts of his anatomy—dance with anticipation. “Sorry about the interruption.”

  She leaned in again, but before his lips met hers, the oven timer blared angrily. Dexter groaned, forcing a rush of air from his nostrils.

  Damn oven timer.

  He rushed over to the stove to shut off the noisy reminder before it awakened all of his neighbors. Dexter removed the bacon from the oven and transferred it to a plate covered with paper towels.

  Eyes drifting shut, Dexter heaved a sigh, not turning to face her.

  He wanted Dakota in the worst way. But this road was fraught with danger—for both of them. He hadn’t initiated the kiss, nor had he expected it. But he’d welcomed it. And since he lacked the willpower to say no, the universe had obviously dropped one shoe and then another on his hard head.

  First Oliver had called just as their ill-advised kiss had started to escalate. Then the oven timer blared before they could resume their kiss.

  It was a sign. Or at the very least, a reminder.

  He’d finally told Dakota why he’d really broken things off between them. But the rest he wasn’t prepared to tell her. Not yet.

  No matter how badly he wanted Dakota, he realized that they could never have anything real as long as he was keeping the truth from her. Even if he was doing it for her own good. So he was prepared to tell her everything, if it came to that. But she intended to walk away in a few months. And he wouldn’t hurt her again for the sake of a temporary fling. So he’d keep his secret, and his hands, to himself.

  Dex turned around slowly and shoved his hands into his pockets. He leaned against the counter beside the stove, needing the distance between them.

  She opened her mouth, an impish grin on her face. But when her eyes met his, her playful expression crumpled, disappointment sliding into its place. It seemed she already knew what he was going to say, but he needed to say the words anyway. For himself, if not for her.

  He dragged a hand across his forehead, the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Dakota, I—”

  “I shouldn’t have come here, and I shouldn’t have kissed you.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Dakota, please don’t take this as a rejection. If it weren’t for—”

  “I get it. You don’t owe me an explanation.” She held up a hand. “In fact, I’d really appreciate it if we didn’t talk about it again. Like…ever.” Dakota raked her fingers through her hair. “I must look a mess. Is it okay if I use your restroom?”

  “Of course.” Dex gestured toward the hall and gave Dakota instructions on where the guest bathroom was located.

  She grabbed her phone, purse, and the elastic band he’d removed from her hair. Then she hurried down the hall and away from him.

  Dexter ran a hand over his head and groaned quietly. He’d done the one thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t: He’d hurt her again.

  Dakota had been worried that she looked a mess. But the truth was that she looked absolutely radiant with her glowing cheeks, flushed skin, and kiss-swollen lips. In fact, there were few things in the world that could render her anything less than gorgeous.

  He’d wanted to tell her that and so much more. But he bit back the words, knowing they would’ve only further complicated an already awkward situation. Instead, he stood there, his hands clenched at his sides, wishing the situation were different. Knowing it never would be.

  * * *

  Dakota stood in front of the mirror in the small, beautifully decorated guest bathroom in Dexter’s condo, her skin hot and her hands shaking. She pressed her palms to the cool countertop on either side of the vessel sink and focused on taking in deep breaths and slowing her racing heart rate.

  “You kissed him, you goof.” She pointed an accusatory finger at her reflection in the mirror. “What the hell were you thinking? You just made everything ten times worse.”

  Dakota sighed and pulled out her phone. Her first instinct was to call Sin. But her friend had been sound asleep when she’d left. Besides, she was thirty-four freaking years old. She needed to get her shit together. If she wasn’t capable of handling an inadvertent kiss with her ex at this age, would she ever be?

  She took a deep, cleansing breath. It was just a stupid mistake. A reaction to seeing that damn photo album and remembering how much she’d once loved him, coupled with all of the sweet and wonderful things he’d done on her behalf since she’d returned to the island.

  And then there was the blow of learning the truth about why he’d broken up with her.

  A part of her was angry that Dexter had taken away her choice in the matter. Yet, if she was being honest, nothing he could’ve said at the time would’ve deterred her from following him to college in Texas.

  She was so in love with Dexter back then. Spending the next four years in a long-distance relationship seemed unbearable. So despite her parents’ pleas, she’d been determined to attend the same university as Dexter. Even if she had to attend on a scholarship or work her way through college because her parents refused to support her decision.

  Dakota sighed. She’d spent so many years angry with Dexter over the breakup. But he’d done it for her. To ensure she remained on the path she’d chosen for herself.

  Maybe he was lying. Maybe he’d just fallen for someone else. But she was inclined to believe what Dexter had said. Because making that kind of sacrifice for someone he loved…that was the Dexter Roberts she’d always known. The boy she’d fallen in love with.

  No wonder she’d kissed him. She’d simply been responding to the overwhelming swell of emotions that had been building between them.

  And so had he.

  Dakota pressed her fingertips to her lips—still tingling from their kiss.

  God, he’s an amazing kisser.

  Dexter had always been a good kisser. He’d kissed her like kissing was the endgame, not something he was forced to do if he hoped to get to third base. Still, he’d certainly upped his game in the interim since their last kiss more than a decade and a half ago.

  She released a long, slow breath, opening her eyes and trying to force their kiss from her brain, which was playing it over and over on an endless loop, like some internet meme.

  Why couldn’t he have become a terrible kisser? That would definitely have helped.

  Forget about the kiss. It was a one-time deal. Never to be repeated.

  She reached for the ponytail holder on the counter, then froze. A shiver rolled down her spine as she recalled how Dex had removed it, gliding his f
ingers through her hair. How he’d fisted the strands as he’d deepened their kiss. That momentary feeling of possession had made her burn with desire for him. Dakota shuddered with the sensory memory, her eyes squeezing shut.

  Dex had always liked her hair down. He’d preferred it when she’d worn it natural. Had loved tangling his fingers in her unruly curls as he’d kissed her.

  She’d started straightening her hair once she got into television and was actively pursuing an on-screen reporting gig.

  Your natural hair is lovely, dear. But no news exec wants to worry that your hair will draw up like a cotton ball when you’re on camera.

  Dakota could hear her mother’s voice in her head as clearly as the day she’d said it. They’d been standing outside of an expensive salon in Manhattan during one of her mother’s visits. She’d “surprised” Dakota with a hair appointment with one of the city’s hottest stylists.

  It’d been more of an ambush than a genuine surprise, because Madeline Jones had known that Dakota wouldn’t like the idea one bit. They’d discussed it before. Dakota had insisted that she shouldn’t have to conform her look to mimic mainstream, European-centered concepts of beauty. Her mother agreed, in theory. But she contended that though it wasn’t fair, Dakota’s naturally curly hair was the only thing keeping her behind the camera rather than in front of it.

  “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, sweetie. But if you want the studio execs to take you seriously, you’ll have to make sacrifices for now. When you become the face of the station, you can fight the good fight, make demands, and help level the playing field for the little brown and black girls who will one day watch you on television and decide they want to follow your path. But you won’t get to do any of that if you allow your hair to be a barrier to achieving your dream.” Her mother’s eyes pleaded with her as she tugged on Dakota’s hair.

  What her mother was asking had gone against everything she’d believed. That people should be accepted for who they are. That it was categorically wrong to discriminate against someone because of their race, religion, disability, how their hair grew from their heads, or the hairstyle they chose to wear. But she’d given in that day, walked into that salon, and let the woman straighten her hair—though she’d refused to have it altered chemically.

  Sadly, it seemed her mother was right. Within six months of changing her hair, she’d been given her first shot at doing a story on camera.

  Dakota raked her fingers through the shiny, flat-ironed strands that fell to her shoulders and tried to create some semblance of order. She decided against pulling her hair back. Not because Dex obviously still preferred it down. Because it was easier.

  She finished up in the bathroom, washing her hands and fussing with her hair one last time. Dakota took a deep breath, then exhaled.

  You can’t hide in here forever. So put on your big-girl panties and get this over with.

  Dakota made her way down the hall and returned to her seat at the breakfast bar, where Dexter had her plate waiting.

  He stepped out of the kitchen carrying his plate, a sheepish look on his handsome face. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “We agreed never to talk about it again, remember?” Dakota tucked her hair behind one ear. “I promise you, we’re fine.”

  “Okay. Well…great.” He forced a wooden, lifeless smile that barely stirred the muscles of his face.

  Dakota turned her focus to the still-warm bacon, egg, and cheese croissant in front of her. She cut the sandwich in half and took a bite.

  “This is so good,” she mumbled, covering her mostly full mouth with one hand. The eggs and bacon were cooked to perfection. The croissant was light and flaky. It tasted freshly made.

  “Glad you like it. Coffee?”

  “Please.” Maybe if she’d had her first cup of coffee before she’d arrived on Dexter’s doorstep, she wouldn’t have made the colossal mistake of kissing him. “Cream, if you have it.”

  “Of course.” His smile seemed a little more genuine now, and his shoulders relaxed. “I only have Italian crème–flavored creamer. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s my favorite.” She tried to ignore the fluttering in her belly when their eyes met.

  “As you wish.” He winked, pouring a steaming mug of coffee. He set it and the bottle of creamer on the counter in front of her.

  Dakota couldn’t help giggling in response to his reference to The Princess Bride—one of her favorite movies. He’d teasingly called her Princess Buttercup after he’d watched the movie with her for the third or fourth time. Dexter laughed, too.

  The familiar teasing between them eased the tension that had settled in the pit of her stomach. It had filled the space around them like insidious black smoke, silently choking them and making it difficult to breathe.

  But their laughter seemed to clear the air, replacing the darkness with the light that had once been a hallmark of their relationship.

  As they ate their croissants and drank their coffee, Dexter shifted the conversation to something safe: work. He updated her on what he’d learned about the festival they were attending and a few others on the East Coast they’d have to compete with for attendees. After they’d eaten, Dakota helped him clean up the breakfast dishes. He grabbed his carry-on, and they made their way to his truck.

  Once his luggage was loaded, he settled into the driver’s seat and glanced over at her as she adjusted her seat belt.

  “I regret a lot of things about the day our relationship ended, Dakota. But what I regret most is that we weren’t able to walk away as friends. I know that’s my fault,” he added, placing a hand to his chest. “But things have been really good between us these past few weeks. I was hoping we could build on that this weekend.”

  Dakota nibbled on her lower lip, unsure of how to respond.

  Spending time with Dex again these past few weeks made it evident that she missed the friendship that had been the foundation of their relationship. But for her, being friends again would never be enough. The love and the friendship they’d shared had blossomed together and were inseparable.

  I’ve had enough rejection for one day, thank you very much.

  “We can’t go back, Dex,” she said softly. “But maybe we could forge a new friendship.”

  “I’d like that.” His mouth curved in a tentative smile as he shifted the truck out of park and they started on their way to her father’s house.

  Dakota turned to look out the window as they traveled through town. Dexter was her boss. Maybe they’d find a way to build some sort of friendship again, but there would be nothing more between them. And in a few months, she’d be gone. Just the way it should be.

  So why couldn’t she stop thinking of their kiss and wishing it had led to more?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dexter turned his truck onto Cypress Lane, the familiar pink-clapboard house coming into view. Just seeing the place again brought back a rush of memories. The first time he’d kissed Dakota was on her front porch after walking her home from a beach party. And the first time they’d made love was upstairs in her bedroom, the weekend her parents had gone to Asheville for her mother’s high school reunion.

  His heart thudded in his chest with the memory of that warm summer night and the taste of her salty skin as he’d kissed her neck and shoulders. Going all the way had been Dakota’s idea, but he could still remember how she’d trembled as they’d undressed in the dark, the moonlight filtering in through the small captain’s window in her bedroom. She was beautiful, and she’d given herself to him. It was the most meaningful gift he’d ever received.

  He’d fumbled his way through, making love to her awkwardly and impetuously, hoping she didn’t realize how nervous he was, too. Everything about that night was permanently etched in his memory. He’d never forget the feeling of being inside of her. How her warm, slick skin had glided against his in the hot room as he called out her name in the throes of utter bliss. Or the way she’d whimpered his.r />
  He’d loved her fiercely and couldn’t imagine a future without Dakota in his life. But little more than a year later, everything had gone wrong between them.

  It’d been a devastating blow from which it had taken him a long time to recover, if he ever really had.

  Dex pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park, staring up at the window to her room. He could tell himself that this trip was only about business, but no matter how many times he repeated the words, it wouldn’t make them true.

  He loved her still. Nothing would ever change that.

  “I’ll be fifteen, twenty minutes tops.” Dakota opened the truck door and hopped out. “I showered at Sin’s place. I just need to do a quick change, put on my makeup, and grab my bags. They’re already packed and right by the front door. You’re welcome to come in.”

  Before he could answer, Oliver appeared on the front porch with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

  “I wouldn’t have minded picking you up.” Her father gave Dex a pointed glare before shifting a look of concern toward his daughter, who seemed amused by his overprotectiveness.

  “Relax, Dad. Dex lives in the same building. It made more sense to catch a ride with him and let both you and Sinclair sleep in.” Dakota jogged up the steps and kissed her father on the cheek, careful not to jostle his coffee. “I’m gonna change before I go. Keep Dex company for me?” She had hurried inside the house before her father could respond.

  Dexter drew in a deep breath and climbed out of the truck. He made his way toward the porch, where Oliver stood with his coffee cup in hand as he assessed him.

  Dexter chuckled inside. Not much had changed. The old dog was still guarding the door.

  To be fair, he could only imagine how this must look to the older man. Him bringing his daughter home while the sun was barely up. Whisking her off for a long weekend.

  Of course Oliver wanted to look him in the eye and size him up. Suss out his intentions.