Still he forced himself to move through the sprawl of rooms. To see for himself so he could accept that she’d run and formulate a goddamn plan to go after her. He checked the entire house—first downstairs to check the room he’d first given her. She’d spent the first couple of weeks there while he’d ached for her in the apartment, imaging her sleeping, showering, forcing himself to not move into the main house so they were both breathing the same air, so he could at least smell her, hear her.
Empty. He looked in the bathroom. She’d taken a shower, but the air still held a hint of warmth and moisture and the honeysuckle scent of the shampoo she used. He inhaled deeply as if he could still hold part of her to him. Then the kitchen. Nothing. Then he saw a note taped to the fridge.
“I’m not running away. I just need to think. And I want you to be happy.”
How the fuck was he supposed to be happy without her?
How the hell was she not aware he wanted her more than he wanted his next breath or any breaths after that?
Lock swore, ran his fingers through his hair over and over, as if that would somehow pull a plan out of his skull, because all that was happening now was he felt like a truck had run over him and parked on his chest. She was gone.
“Think. Think. Think.” He yelled and paced his kitchen, faster and faster.
Where would she have gone? The station? No. Stupid. He’d taken her off the roster after the scan revealed not only their pregnancy but twins.
Mim? Rachelle? Sarah? No. They’d become close, but Dare was at heart more of a loner, like him, especially when she was hurt and needed to think. She’d want to be alone, and she’d want some distance.
Idiot!
The airport.
She was running away.
No matter how she looked at it, she was running away from Lock. Dare looked out the window of the cab as the familiar streets rolled away and she left the river behind. She already missed the ribbon of blue. It linked her with Lock. She loved how he’d taken them to different parts of the Yarra, talking about Melbourne’s history, his two years at the university on the rowing team, and then he’d shown her where he’d rowed as a teen, the regattas where he’d placed and where he hadn’t.
He’d shared so much of his life with her in the two months she’d lived in the city. Even when they hadn’t been lovers, the first couple of weeks where they’d both struggled to keep their distance, they’d gone on long runs together. Grilled out.
Dare squeezed her hand tight around the thick leather strap of her duffle.
Lock had shared his life with her from the beginning. His history, his thoughts, his humor, his kindness and his body, oh God, his body, and the thought of never touching him again made her want to puke.
She was running away even though she told herself she wasn’t, yet she wasn’t running toward anything. What was she doing? Panicking? She couldn’t take her twins away from Lock forever. What did she think she would do? Haunt Ryan’s grave to keep his spirit safe? Raise her babies in a graveyard? She’d dragged herself out of her depressive episode and her grief determined to live strong, and instead she was running away when life got tough.
“Stop,” she told the cabbie.
He looked back at her like she was a hormonal, mess of a woman, which she probably was, damnit.
“Really, I mean it. Stop. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to go to the airport.”
“Want to go back to the house then?”
Dare swallowed. She watched the meter run. Her palms were sweaty and the nausea threatened a little reminding her that, even a couple of miles from Lock, she was not alone.
The house. Lock. He might be back from the call by now. What if he checked on her? Realized what she’d been about to do?
“No,” she said decisively. “I feel like a walk.”
She paid the fee and got out of the cab, carrying all of her bags. Just like she arrived.
She sucked in a deep breath. Squared her shoulders much like she’d done on that Melbourne street corner a few months back. This was it. The next part of the rest of her life. She’d made a promise to Ryan to live. And to do that, she couldn’t run away from anything or anyone ever again. She’d face Lock and they’d hash it out. What he wanted, really wanted, not just him doing what he perceived as the right thing. And she’d tell why she couldn’t marry him. Or maybe why she could.
The thought sent a bolt of fear zinging through her, but she ignored it and walked along the river front at a quick pace. The last five blocks to Lock’s house were the hardest. She was trembling, not sure what she’d find. Maybe he was relieved she’d gone. After all, he hadn’t once talked about her staying on before he found out about the babies. Only one way to find out.
She forced herself into a run feeling determined and a little bit epic, like there should be music swelling behind her. She was taking a big step. A potentially life-changing step. Only there was no soundtrack other than the drone of a garden service mowing a lawn, and the swish of cars on the high street. And instead of open arms, there was a locked gate. Dare gripped the bars. This was so stupid. She didn’t know the code. They’d always walked in through the back gate or they’d been in the car, and Lock had used the remote.
The front door flung open, Lock had his keys and was clearly in a rush. He pulled up short. Stared at her. Oh, God, why wouldn’t her throat work and why was he all blurry?
He walked toward her, the sexy, rolling, fluid walk and she remembered the first time she’d seen him. The question she’d asked herself.
“Definitely better walking towards,” she whispered as he met her at the black iron gate. “Absolutely.”
His hands came through at the same space where she clung to the bars and covered her white knuckles. They were warm and comforting.
“I definitely like seeing you walk towards me better than away,” she said. “I wondered that the first day I met you at the pub. At Rosie’s. You have such a beautiful walk and a beautiful body and I couldn’t tell which angle I liked better.”
“Dare.” He let her babble. His eyes, dark with emotion, searched hers.
One tear chased down her cheek followed by another.
“I’m not crying,” she said.
“I know.” He kissed her knuckles one at a time through the gate. More tears fell.
“Still not crying.”
“Got it. Come inside because the view I’d really like of you right now is in the house figuring this out. You gotta talk to me, Dare. I did that before, not talking in a relationship and avoiding all the scary and ugly and painful and angry and it was bloody awful, and I know, I absolutely know that you are tough enough to work with me.”
She sighed and then kissed his thumb.
“I just... I just... I can’t make that jump. I want to make the jump. I want to be with you but I feel... I still feel like I’m betraying Ryan.”
She expected him to dismiss her or curse or yell at her that Ryan was dead and buried and ten years of dragging him around with her was enough.
“I know you do, Dare. I know.”
“And I’m not really sure of what you want us to do.”
“Get married. Be a family.”
That stopped her short. There was no hesitation.
“You don’t have to marry me just because I got pregnant. You already married once for what you admit were the wrong reasons.”
“Dare, I want to marry you because I love you. Babies or not, I love you. Pretty sure that’s the right reason and the best reason.”
“But you only want to marry me because the baby.”
He leaned his head against the bars.
“If I have learned anything about the last two months of being in love with you,” he said softly, “is that when I think something or feel something about you, I need to act on it immediately or else it will turn around and bite me in the ass. That will be rule one.”
“You do have a gorgeous ass,” she whispered.
“Let’s go inside,
Dare, and not give neighbors a full view of our dramatic reunion.”
“Not very dramatic. I was only gone half an hour.”
“Too long,” he said. “And I don’t need any more videos of you bouncing around on the internet, especially one where I strip you naked and take you against this gate, because these bars are giving me one hell of a visual fantasy. Rule two...” He opened the gate and pulled her into a tight embrace as soon as he could. His heart pounded like they’d gone for a race. “We touch and talk a lot.”
“That’s one rule I would actually follow.” She wound her arms around his neck. “Does rule three have to do with lots of PDA?”
“I’m beginning to think that with you it might.”
“Damn straight.”
He laughed and kissed her. She could tell he meant it to be a quick kiss, but it wasn’t because she needed to kiss him, hard and fierce and his instant response—he took control of the kiss, his heart slammed against hers and he was instantly hard and nudging between her thighs—was thrilling.
“I think rule four should be something about no distractions when we are trying to work things out.” He broke the kiss ruefully.
“Not going for that unless there’s an exception clause for make-up sex.”
“We didn’t fight and we sure as hell never broke up,” he said.
They walked toward the house. The door was still open. Dare slipped in first, pulling him with her and then slamming the door with her back.
“We still need make-up sex.” Dare already peeled off her panties, leaving her boots and short, flared cotton skirt with a mehndi print on. Her shirt was next, and she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Lock’s eyes were dark with lust, but his brain was still trying to kick in with an opinion or a rule.
“Dare, we need to talk first.”
“I need you,” she said rawly. “I just have too much going on in my head. I can’t sort through it. Please.” She brought one of his hands to her breasts and whimpered as his fingers cupped and stroked. “I’m so crazy sensitive,” she confessed “when you touch me. I need you to touch me.”
His breathing was ragged. He dragged his other hand now to her slick folds. He hissed in a breath, stroking her, his face reverent. Dare shook. It was insane how much his touch aroused and soothed her. She pushed forward into his hand whispering her approval.
“Don’t you think we should...” Lock seemed poised to rally so she unzipped his pants and she took him in her hand and let her thumb stroke the broad head, already beaded with moisture and then she brought her thumb to her mouth.
“I love the way you taste,” she said.
Then she walked him back towards the living room, tugging his pants down to his hips before tipping him back on a large couch and straddling him.
“And feel.”
She lowered herself onto him slowly, wanting to feel all of him and watch his expression.
Lock moaned and slid his hands up her short skirt. He’d gone from hell to heaven the moment he’d opened his front door and although there were so many things left to resolve between them he let Dare have what she wanted, not what she’d said she needed. He looked at her face, so beautiful and intense and intent on him, gauging his pleasure.
“Can you get your shirt off for me, Lock I want to see you and touch you and taste you and you’re wearing all your clothes. Again.”
He managed to sit partially up enough to pull off his short-sleeved T-shirt and Dare sighed happily, lowering her body so her breasts caressed his chest along with her mouth and her hands.
He wanted to grip her hips and pound into her, but he let her set the pace, frantic, then slow and sensual until the buildup was going to drive him out of his mind. Twice she brought him to the brink before they finally orgasmed together. Still he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t trust that she was really here.
“You feel so good,” he repeated, helplessly thrusting to wring out the final sensations her spasms caused. It was the first time they hadn’t used a condom, and not only were the sensations more incredible and intense, but he also felt the symbolism of no barrier all the way to his heart. “So amazing.” He could barely make his brain work.
That was the most inadequate word for how he felt. Being with Dare, being inside of Dare, knowing he was part of her life made him happy in a way he’d never conceived possible. He’d thought his life was fine, but he had no idea how empty it had been. He’d thought he had resolved his hurt over his failure of a marriage long ago, but he’d realized he hadn’t been willing to open up again, to trust again. Dare had given him that.
And now he was going to be a father. And, if she’d have him, a husband, only this time he was truly going to be a husband. His heart soared. He and Dare had created life and he had to hold onto it with both hands. Dare collapsed on his chest, sweaty and her breathing ragged.
“I love you.” He stroked the silky platinum chunks out of her face so he could see her. “I wanted to tell you when we weren’t naked or having sex, but I couldn’t keep it in at the clinic and I can’t keep it in now. I love you. I think I fell in love with you in the tattoo parlor when I saw how you kept the memories of your friends and family safe on your body. You are so wicked brave and strong and alive that I just want to hold on to you, to us with both hands.”
She looked up at him, barely lifting her face from his chest. “We’ve only known each other a few months,” she said wonderingly.
“I know. But for me it was practically instant. I loved watching you interact with your cousins at Rosies—your humor, your strength, your all-in attitude and then the little hitch of vulnerability now and then. I was just a goner. I love how you think. Your courage. Your edges. The way you commit to everything whether it’s a workout or running in a burning building or talking about something. I’m just undone by your tenderness and fierceness when we make love. I love how you’re so strong, but I think you need me a little, and I need you a lot and I know I can always count on you to have my back, and I swear to you that as long as I have breath in my body you can count on me. From now until the end, you will have me.”
Dare sighed shakily at the declaration and the long speech that she’d needed. She laid her cheek against his chest for a moment. Then she kissed him and propped herself up.
“I love you, Lock. I kept trying not to, but I failed miserably, but you don’t have to marry me. I know that your last marriage left scars.”
“Scars are what make us stronger,” he said. “I wasn’t ready to be a husband. I didn’t want to be one. I wanted a mother for my brothers and sister. I want you for my wife. For my partner. I want us to make decisions together.”
“Yes, but you didn’t feel like that before,” Dare said, her tone practical. “The babies got you all domestic. I don’t want you to feel up against a wall again.”
“Hold that thought.” He got up, grabbed his pants and pulled a small box out of the pocket. He handed the blue velvet box to her and she stared at it like it might bite. “Don’t open it yet.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through it.
“Okay. Don’t look at the price. Look at the date.”
Dare peered at the receipt on his phone. She had to move it around because Lock’s finger was blocking part.
“Three weeks ago.” She said wonderingly.
“Now, open it.”
“Now?”
“Hell, yes, now.”
“Lock.” Dare swallowed hard, barely looking at the sparkling diamond in the filigree setting. “You don’t have to do this.”
He sat up so they were face-to-face. His hands cupped her cheeks. “I want to do this. I want us to get married. I brought the ring with me to the bushfire. The stone was my grandmother’s. The setting was my mother’s. I had it reset and added the aquamarines that reminded me of your eyes at a jeweler’s while you were at the bushfire. I don’t have my parents or grandparents to be a part of our lives, but I thought that if you wore their rings it would be like—” He broke off not
sure if she was getting his garbled explanation or not.
Dare was shaking and holding the ring out to him. God, he’d blown it. He’d gotten this all wrong.
“You have to ask,” she whispered, her voice tremulous, her eyes brimming.
The relief made him light headed.
“Dare...” He didn’t break contact with her beautiful blue-green eyes that never failed to make him feel connected and like he was drowning at the same time. “Will you marry me?”
She nodded and held out her hand. He slowly slipped the ring on her finger, feeling the rightness of the moment down to his bones. Her breath hitched and she bit her lower lip.
She looked at the ring sparkling there and then back at him.
“You really like to live dangerously,” she whispered.
“No, I love to live happy. And you make me happy. Do I make you happy?”
It was an asinine question but Dare nodded and some of the anxiety seeped out of her expression.
“There’s so much to decide,” she said softly.
“We have time.” He wrapped her in his arms and then slid down on the couch again pulling her with him so he could feel her along the whole length of his body. “For now, just let me hold you.”
Dare linked her fingers with his and made a pillow of their hands on his chest.
He slid something else on her finger. Dare looked at the woven band that sparkled with diamonds and aquamarines. It looked like a match for the setting for the engagement ring. “You have to put the wedding band on after the ceremony,” she said. “Even I know that.”
“I will. That’s the eternity band because I want forever with you, Dare. Forever.”
Epilogue
Dare looked at her engagement ring, eternity band, and wedding band as she sat in the rented Honda CRV in the ocean view cemetery. She gulped in a deep breath because this was a goodbye. It was time. Lock sat in the driver’s seat, his hand over hers, not saying anything. They’d been in California for two weeks with her family. They had had small, simple wedding with her family and his brothers and sister in her parents’ backyard, and then were going to have a big party with what seemed like it was going to be most of Metropolitan in Melbourne and then the whole Brisbane Knight family when they went home back to Melbourne.
Burning Both Ends Page 18