by Eden Summers
“I didn’t realize you were so tired,” she whispered, creeping closer. “Did I steal your stamina, grandpa?”
His lips kicked, the tiniest grin announcing his consciousness. She’d learned to recognize his fake smiles, the ones he gave to placate strangers. But this was one of hers. He gave her patented grins and smirks. Ones exclusively made for her.
“Is it time for your nap?” She stopped in front of him and squealed when he leapt at her, pulling her down to be mercilessly tickled.
“Don’t!” She screamed and wiggled for her life. “Please!”
He ended the torture with a kiss, tangling their tongues, combing his hands through her hair. When he backed away, she whimpered, still unable to come to terms with never being sated. No matter how much he gave, she wanted more. More kisses, more affection, more attention. She didn’t think she would ever get enough. At least not in the weeks she had left.
“Is that all I get?” She pouted.
He guided her to straddle his thighs, his heavy-lidded eyes staring back at her. There was no lust, no carnality. He was devoid of energy.
“You are exhausted.” She cupped his cheeks, taking in his heavy breathing and pale skin. “Are you getting sick?”
He shook his head, the movement slow and unconvincing.
“Then what’s wrong?”
He reached for his cell on the armrest and typed with a smirk—You’re killing me. I can’t keep up with you.
“Really?” She rocked slowly against his crotch, proving otherwise. “I don’t think all of you agrees.”
He gave a breath of a chuckle and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the sofa.
“Keenan?”
Something was wrong. A slowly building throb of guilt started to take over her chest. She should’ve been paying more attention. She should’ve noticed sooner. He’d been less energetic for days. Their nights had begun ending earlier, the mornings starting later. She’d vaguely laughed at the idea that his fatigue may be a case of too much horizontal exercise and not enough sleep. But this was more than that.
He wrapped his arms around her and continued to rest.
“Would you tell me if something was wrong?”
His eyes opened and a lack of reassurance stared back at her, the same wariness she’d come to expect when she pried.
He shook his head. “Nothing is wrong.” He brushed the stray hair behind her ear and smiled. “Tired.”
He was lying. Placating her.
She knew better than to fight for answers. He never caved to her determination. He only ever told her what he wanted her to know. Even though these moments had begun to fade, it was that stubborn secrecy that had made her cling tight to the words her heart wanted to give to him. Three little words she’d never spoken because she wouldn’t release her last shield against vulnerability if he wouldn’t either.
But she could give him something. A tiny piece of her that nobody else had. “You know, I never thought I’d care about a man, the way I do for you.”
His eyes softened, the tiniest spark of understanding gleaming back at her.
“My father left when I was a teenager. For me, it was out of the blue. I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t even know there was a problem in my parents’ marriage. He just left. One day he was my father, the next he wasn’t. He never called. Didn’t write…” A gentle hand swept her hair behind her ear, comforting the memories she usually chose to ignore. “I didn’t think it affected me much. I was leaving school at the time and starting my career. I kept myself busy and pretended it was a part of growing up.”
But it wasn’t normal, and it had affected her. How else could she explain the lack of love in her life? She’d broken contact with Dominic, wasted time on relationships she knew had no future, and cocooned herself in a safe existence.
“I’ve never had this.” She waved a lazy hand between them. “I’ve never felt like this.”
“Me, too,” he mouthed.
Her heart squeezed at the sincerity focused back on her. It was true. He did feel the same way, just maybe not enough to divulge whatever was hiding in his eyes. She sat there, taking in his motionless affection, his silent appreciation. Waiting. Hoping.
There was another wistful swipe of his finger through her hair. A brush of his thumb along her cheek. He bathed her in adoration and continued to leave her starved for his secrets.
“Let’s go home.” She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and scooted backward to stand on the floor. He wasn’t ready yet, and that was okay. She could deal. At this point, she had no choice because leaving him wasn’t an option. “You can sleep while I drive.”
* * *
He did. Keenan dozed the entire way home while she watched the snow slowly dwindle the further she drove toward Seattle. She wanted to mother him, to escort him to bed, wrap him in blankets and figure out how the hell to make chicken noodle soup.
Only smothering him would give him more control. She needed to do the opposite to remind him of her impending farewell.
“We’re here.” Her words were soft, slowly lulling him into the land of the living.
She opened the gates with the spare remote he’d given her, and drove to the front of his house. Her sternum ached as she cut the engine and met him at the back of the car.
He reached for her luggage, and she placed a hand on top of the suitcase to stay him. “Leave mine there.”
He raised a brow, not releasing the handle.
“I’ve been monopolizing your time for weeks. You need a break to recharge.”
He shook his head and began lifting the case.
“Yes.” This time she pressed down harder, and one by one lifted his fingers from the handle. “You’re unwell.”
“No.”
“No?” She closed the trunk, well aware she’d almost taken off his hand in the process. “Then what is it?”
His narrowed gaze returned, the fast snap of something defensive falling between them. Everything had been smooth since Thanksgiving. Too smooth. Too choreographed to perfection. Keenan had helped her to find staff to fill the vacant positions. Penny had become a fading memory within the Rydel building. She’d even told Spencer she’d met someone, and he hadn’t lost his mind, only his control over profanity for a few minutes.
A future with Keenan was within her grasp. They were a breath away from together forever. The only thing stopping her from searching local employment opportunities and instigating a permanent relocation plan was that look. That painful knowledge that he hadn’t given his all to her yet.
“Forget it.” She didn’t want to cause a fight. “I know you have things you don’t want to tell…” It was a push, a provocation.
He pulled out his cell, typed—You mean everything to me, Savannah
Her heart clenched, practically initiating a cardiac event.
“Then trust me.”
He grabbed her wrist, his expression screaming for understanding. “I will.”
“Just not today, right?”
He winced.
“It’s okay.” She soothed the discomfort between them with a soft smile. “I know you’re not ready to share everything with me. I can wait.” At least a few more weeks, anyway. The days left to discuss the future were dwindling. She didn’t want to force his secrets from him with an ultimatum, but she also wouldn’t start uprooting her San Francisco life if she didn’t have all of him.
“Text or video call me before you go to bed.” She kissed his cheek and backtracked. “Make sure you rest.”
He stepped away from the car, his arms crossed over his chest and a petulant frown marring his brow. A little extra distance would be good for them. It would also be her first opportunity to start Christmas shopping.
“Don’t be grumpy.” She opened her driver’s door and gave a sneaky smile even though she didn’t want to leave. “As soon as you’re full of energy, I plan on stealing it away again.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The drive
from his house was more desolate, the solitary trees waving in the breeze, telling her to go back. She had to do something to drag away his defenses. At least push them to the side a little.
But how?
Time didn’t helped. Passion hadn’t either. She had to give him more.
“What if I tell you all my secrets?” she whispered to herself. “And said that I was so close to being in love with you, so close to being entirely vulnerable and all I needed was your trust? What if I told you that it hurts to breathe when I think about boarding that plane to San Francisco? If I gave you those secrets, would you give me yours?”
She imagined his response, the subtle lift of his chin, the shock in his eyes.
And still it wouldn’t be enough.
He’d already described his emotions in vivid detail. He’d painted a picture of affection and lust. Love had been on his lips, too.
She needed to do something bigger. To forget about her previous stipulations and the restraints on the relationship that revolved around secrecy. For weeks she kept their time together to herself.
A few people in Seattle were aware she had a lover. Kelly had specifics, Grant only had an active imagination. Neither questioned her. It was an unspoken rule, and the only thing to show for her time away from her hotel room were the surveillance cameras in the parking lot.
She’d hidden Keenan. Not merely for her career, or to ward off Penny. It was also to gain a foothold on whatever was building between them. She enjoyed the hell out of his company and didn’t want anyone encroaching on their space. But maybe it was time to let it all go.
The answer to gaining Keenan’s trust could be as easy as telling the world they were together.
She pulled to the side of the road, a smile tugging her lips as she clicked her cell into the hands-free unit. Her heart and her hands trembled in excitement with the press of the call button. The ring tone had her holding her breath.
“Yeah.”
The unenthusiastic welcome muted her buzz. “Hey, Dominic.” She wanted him to hear the news from her first. Not second-hand when her mom went on a gossip spree. He deserved to know she was in love, even though he hadn’t thought it possible with Keenan.
“Hey, yourself.” There was no charm, none of the usual playfulness.
“It’s been a while. I was hoping to catch up and see how you’re doin’. How was your Thanksgiving?”
“Evidently, not as busy as yours, because I had the decency of picking up the phone.”
Damn, that swipe cut deep. The guilt over dismissing his Thanksgiving call had weighed on her for days. She hadn’t been willing to lie to him about her whereabouts. The only option had been to keep her distance. She’d messaged him back, claiming to be on the verge of losing phone battery and hadn’t found the guts to call him since. But they’d texted over the weeks. Only now it was becoming evident that his short replies weren’t due to being busy.
“I’d worked late with a wedding the night before.” She still wouldn’t lie to him. “Comprehension wasn’t my strong point for days after.”
He scoffed, the sound tinged with loathing. “No kidding.”
She gripped the steering wheel and tried to imagine the look on his face as he spoke. Tried and failed. Dominic wasn’t prone to anger around her. They were buddies. Friends. Or they had been until the bug crawled up his ass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s supposed to mean that I’m sick of this bullshit. And I’m fucking annoyed that you ruined our Thanksgiving.”
Something blossomed in her chest. Something dark and grave and unwelcomed. “Ruined…”
“Mom was upset that Keenan cancelled lunch without notice. Penny was an A-grade bitch because he was with you. And frankly, I was fucking disappointed that, yet again, you didn’t take my advice and stay away.”
Her mouth gaped. Her throat tightened. The visual of Penny as an A-grade bitch was crystal clear, thankfully keeping her mind away from the image of Aunt Michelle’s reaction to Thanksgiving.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Her voice was low, barely audible through the white noise. “Why didn’t you yell at me back then?”
“I was angry. Still am. But I’d warned you—”
“I like him, Dominic. I really like him.” There, she’d said it.
Her chest expanded a little. Relief sped through her veins. The truth wouldn’t set her free from this conversation, but it gave her hope for when she was with Keenan next. “I’m contemplating moving to Seattle.”
“Savvy, you’re only history repeating itself. Trust me,” he offered softly, as if she were a child who didn’t understand. “Contemplating anything with him is a mistake.”
“Why, because he can’t speak? You think I don’t know him because he hasn’t given me words?” She shook her head. “Well, you’re wrong. I’ve been with him since Thanksgiving. I’ve practically lived with the man for weeks.” All his secrets may not be at her disposal, but she understood all the important parts. She knew he loved her. She knew he was determined and focused and smart. She knew they fit together—heart, mind, and soul. And she also knew her life was far more vibrant with him in it. Words or not.
“No, you know what he wants you to know and nothing more.”
“Well, that’s enough for me.”
“Good for you. Just don’t expect me to pick you up when he knocks you down.”
She scoffed. “He won’t.” She couldn’t fault Keenan’s commitment to her. She was almost ready to jump on a sword for him, at the very least stick up for him against Dominic’s assault. “If you were a true friend, you’d let him be happy.”
“He’s not happy, Savannah. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. If he was happy, you’d know the truth.”
“I guess we need to agree to disagree.”
“To be honest, I don’t need to do shit. He’s asked more than enough of my family because of you. I’m not giving any more. While you’re with him, don’t bother calling me again.”
Air escaped her lungs in a painful exhale. He was no longer giving her advice. He was laying down the law. Making her choose—him or Keenan.
A childhood of memories flashed through her mind. His smiles, his laughter. The times they’d caused trouble and mischief, along with the unending conversations about all those life or death challenges of school. All of it was there. Just there. Then suddenly it was gone.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I can commit to that.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
She turned the car around, ignoring the desolate road and taunting trees. Sick or not, she needed to see him for a few seconds more. To hold him. To reassure herself that this slight case of apprehension was unwarranted before she spent the night alone.
If it was Penny’s history Dominic was referring to, then it wasn’t a repeat at all. Keenan had told her that much. They’d had a fling. An affair based on sex and nothing else. Just like Savannah’s mistake with Spencer.
What she had with Keenan was deeper.
Steady and sturdy. Yep, they were solid…
“Shit.” She slammed her hands against the steering wheel and cursed her cousin’s name. She had to forget it. Ignore it. Put it to the furthest spot in the back of her mind and throw stones at it.
Whatever jealous, childish obsession the Augustines had over Keenan wasn’t worth fretting over. She was going to make this right. Tomorrow morning she’d call Mathew Rydel and give him the news. She’d admit to falling in love with the competition and assure him, contrary to the truth, that it hadn’t affected her role in Seattle.
Then she’d call Spencer. And her mother. She was going to let the whole world know she was owning her relationship with Keenan. That she knew him better than anyone else and was laying her heart on the line to prove it.
She knew Keenan. She knew what made him laugh and what made him angry. She could read his thoughts and sense his unease. She doubted anyone else in the world could read him better.
His house loomed ahead, the building filled with memories that made her heart grow reassured. She opened his front gates with a press of the remote button, and raised his garage door with another. She wasn’t going to ask for answers. Nope. She was going to stifle that crap. What she was going to do was walk in there, kiss the apprehension from her lungs, and stick by him while he overcame the flu or cold or whatever illness was dragging him down.
She was going to love him just to spite all the people trying to pull her away. She was going to devour every inch of his skin. Mark him with her teeth and savor him with her tongue.
Her grin spread ear to ear as she parked in his garage and cut the engine. This was what was going to get him to open up. She could feel it.
The faint whoosh of running water welcomed her into the house. The soft tumble of her belly accompanied her enthusiastic footfalls down the hall. From the staircase at the front door, she could hear the shower and a soft hum of music from his room. He would be naked. Wet. Entirely lickable.
The higher she climbed, the louder her heart pounded in her ears. The rush of water became clear, and the lyrics floating through the air were almost decipherable. But it was her chest that begged to be heard. This time she wasn’t going to hold back. She was going to say those words. Those three, vulnerable words. Each one slowly. Succinctly.
I love you.
She reached his door and poked her head inside, finding his suitcase still packed near his bedside table. She could see him through the open bathroom door, too, the water cascading down his back, over his ass, along his muscled thighs. He was divine. Truly a magnificent specimen.
Only, the image before her didn’t sit right. Her intuition was sounding an alarm.
He turned toward her, his eyes closed as he scrubbed white foam from his hair. She’d never forget that sight—his gorgeousness, his appeal that was wrapped up in a bundle of pure agonizing torture.
She struggled not to retch as pain exploded in her chest.
There was no radio, no tunes flowing from his cell that sat dormant on his bed. His lips were moving, not in mime or in breath. His mouth was dancing in song, the melodic sound of his voice filling the air.