Desperate to make her listen, King called out, “Cara, please don’t leave. Give me a chance to explain and make this right.”
This time she didn’t turn around. He stared at her back and watched her walk out of his life, leaving a hole in his chest and an ache in his throat that clogged the tears rising in his eyes. She climbed into her truck, started the engine, turned in the seat to watch out the window as she reversed down the driveway without ever looking back at him again.
He pressed the heel of his hand against his brow between his tingling eyes. He couldn’t lose it here. Not now. But he foresaw a lifetime of lonely nights feeling this pain and loneliness and the regret and guilt that he’d done this to himself.
Worse, he’d never forgive himself for hurting her.
“Are you just going to let her go?”
He’d nearly forgotten Tim was standing there watching the destruction of his life. “For now. But I’m not giving up.”
He’d give her time to let her anger and hurt settle, then he’d remind her how good they were together and show her what it would be like if they made a life together. He’d make her happy, and he’d love her the way she deserved to be loved.
All he had to do was get her back.
Chapter Thirty
Cara woke in the unfamiliar bed and room to the same emptiness she’d lived with these last two weeks on the road, going from one place to the next with no destination in mind or plan for what happened next. She’d become a wanderer in her life just like her mind drifted from one thought to the next. But as she moved from town to town and hours on the road took her away from Montana, her mind circled back and landed on one thing. Him.
Her hand lay on the empty pillow beside her, but in her mind he lay with her, golden hair mussed from sleep, his handsome face still rugged and chiseled even in sleep. His rough jaw dotted with stubble that made him appear dangerous until he smiled at her and all she saw was a deep kindness and light. And when his blue eyes stared back at her, they were filled with something she’d wished for her whole life: love and acceptance.
His big body, all tight muscles and the scars from a life filled with loss and fighting for what’s right, warmed hers and made her want to get closer. Close enough to feel every inch of his skin pressed to hers. Closer still, his hard length filling her, his arms holding her heart to heart as he showed her in every way how much he wanted her.
Her cell phone rang on the bedside table behind her. She rolled over, picked it up, and checked the caller ID. Her heart fluttered with anticipation. She accepted the call, but like every other time these last two weeks, she didn’t say a word, because she didn’t know what to say or how she felt besides hollow.
“Morning, sweetheart.” His deep voice sent a ripple of longing through her. “I’m up early for work.”
Yeah. Kentucky’s two hours ahead of Montana and it’s barely dawn there. Bright light seeped through the slit in her motel room curtains.
“I wish I knew where you are. I wish you were here. You feel like you’re a million miles away.”
He paused. She didn’t say anything. “Still not talking to me, huh. That’s okay. Did you sleep well?”
No.
“I didn’t think so.” He answered his question like she’d spoken her thought. He’d become adept at carrying on whole conversations without her saying a word. Because he knew her well enough to guess her part. Which made her think even more about him, what they shared, what she’d lost. What she’d left behind.
Which was exactly his intention. And wasn’t that just a lovely thought even if she didn’t fit into his world. She didn’t feel like she fit anywhere anymore.
“If you miss me one-tenth of how much I miss you, you’re probably as lonely as I am without you.”
I am.
“I woke up this morning thinking about the way you smell. Coffee and cinnamon-sugar donuts and spring.”
You smell like the forest after it rains.
“I can’t go into a coffee shop without a thousand memories flooding my mind. I miss the hours we worked together side by side in the kitchen. I missed you so much yesterday I made a bunch of cherry tarts.”
Your specialty.
“I liked making those the most. Maybe I’ll take some into work for Trigger and the guys.”
Your first day back now that they cleared you for the shooting. Does it weigh on you? Does it wake you in the night in a cold sweat? I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about how close we both came to dying. The thought of losing you . . . Well, I did lose you. Didn’t I? Do we still have a chance?
“I’m not sure I’m ready to go back. It still feels unfinished.”
Like things ended wrong.
“With things the way they are between us . . . I have so much more to do to make it right.”
Nothing feels right without you. A hard admission to make because her head reminded her that he’d lied, but her heart warmed with the love he showed her then and still showed her today.
“When you’re ready, I’ll prove to you that all I want to do is make you happy. I will never lie to you again. I say that all the time, but it’s the truth, sweetheart.”
I know. She couldn’t deny the earnestness in his voice or that all the time they’d been together he’d gone out of his way to always tell her the truth even while he lied about being DEA. She understood that he’d had to keep that secret and why. She even believed if he’d had a choice, he’d have confided in her. But he couldn’t risk his life to do it.
You didn’t trust me.
“I had an obligation to the job, even if it went against what I believed wholeheartedly: you’d never do anything to hurt me or put me in jeopardy. Because you’re a good person, Cara. Better than all of us. And you love me. At least I hope you do, because I love you more than I ever thought possible.”
Loving the people in my life nearly destroyed me.
“I know you don’t want to hurt anymore, Cara. It hurts so damn bad missing you, not having you here with me, not hearing your voice, or feeling you next to me. You’ve lost everyone, but you still have me. You will always have me. I will wait as long as it takes, but please, Cara, have mercy, come home.”
He ended every call with those same two words. And she spent the next five minutes staring at the water spots on the ceiling with tears sliding down her cheeks and her heart aching to go to him.
The depth of sadness and wanting and loneliness in his voice reverberated through her heart and mirrored her own feelings. He was sorry. She didn’t want to punish him. She didn’t want to keep punishing herself because she hadn’t been able to save . . . everyone.
She’d wanted so much for Tandy, her uncle, and her father. Far more than they wanted for themselves. But somewhere along the way she’d stopped wanting everything for herself, pretending she didn’t want it, until Dawson King came into her life. She may not have known his real name or what he did for a living, but she’d known him to be a good man. A kind man.
A man worth dreaming of forever with.
A man who wouldn’t give up on her.
A man she couldn’t ignore any longer.
She lay on the bed facing the empty spot beside her, the letter he left in her truck and the heart-shaped rock sitting on the bedside table. A reminder of the one thing she believed with her whole heart: he loved her.
Have mercy.
She should show him and herself some.
Lying on her back at the edge of the bed with her keepsakes next to her on the table, she held the phone above her and snapped a picture. She texted it to him, hoping he understood all she couldn’t say yet.
She didn’t know what would happen between them. Would his family accept her? He seemed very close to them. They’d all shown up at the hospital to see him.
She and Dawson grew up so differently. He had the ideal family. She had none left. Add to all her other concerns, her father’s and uncle’s sordid pasts, she no longer had a job, a home she wa
nted to go back to, or a life.
What the hell did she have to offer him?
But after ditching him and giving him the silent treatment these last two weeks, he still wanted her to come home.
Her phone dinged with a text. She swiped the screen and stared at the selfie. Dawson lay in his bed, hair mussed, jaw sporting two days’ worth of scruff, chest bare, and a smile, despite it looking a bit sad. She touched her fingertips to his handsome face and swallowed back the lump in her throat as the tide of missing him washed over her.
Another text came up under his picture.
KING: This is where you belong.
Damn the man. The truth in that made her miss him even more.
She rolled to her side, grabbed the rock and wrinkled letter she’d read a hundred and fifty times if she’d read it once over the last two weeks. She fell back on the pillows and placed the heart-shaped stone on her chest, one hand over it, the letter in the other.
Cara,
My real name is Dawson King. I joined the DEA after Erin died in the car accident and I found out the guy who hit us was under the influence. I believe in taking dangerous men and drugs off the streets. I’m sorry in this case I had to lie to you to do it. You have my deepest sympathy for the loss of your father, uncle, and friend. I know how much you loved them. In the end, you paid a high price for their deceit and betrayal. I’m sure it feels like you lost everything, but for what it’s worth, you will always have me.
I crossed the line knowing that doing my job meant losing the best thing that ever happened to me. I tried to do my job and be the man you deserve. I tried to protect you. I regret like all the others, for all my good intentions, I still ended up hurting you. I’m so sorry, Cara. If I could change it, make it all perfect like the night we spent together, I would.
I didn’t expect it, I don’t know how it happened, but I fell in love with you probably from the moment I met you. I will always love you, because you became a part of me. I miss you every second we’re apart. With every breath I take, I wish for you. Please forgive me.
Believe in me the way I believe in us.
I love you.
Come home.
Dawson
Tears gathered in her eyes. He meant every word. He showed her how much by calling her day after day, trying to get her to see that she did indeed still have him.
But here she lay alone and lonely.
She’d run away because she thought she had nothing left, but she’d left something behind that she wanted more than anything: love.
Dawson was right. Maybe the way it happened and the timing of it wasn’t ideal, but it didn’t discount the depth and truth of it.
He loved her. She loved him.
She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life hoping for a happy life when she had a chance to live one with Dawson.
She sat up, caught the heart-shaped stone against her chest, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and listened to all the declarations of Dawson’s love in her head and the one thing that repeated over and over again.
Come home. Come home. Come home.
She set her treasures on the table, bounced off the bed, and headed for the shower. She’d been aimlessly wandering, but her heart had always been pulling her in one direction: back to him. Home.
Chapter Thirty-One
King liked being back at work, falling into the routine, being around friends, and having something to do to distract him from wanting to commit several crimes and break a hundred rules and use the tools at his disposal at the DEA and track down Cara.
If he couldn’t get her to talk to him on the phone, making her talk to him face-to-face would only bring out the anger simmering inside of her. She needed time to cope and heal. She left to do it in her way and in her own time.
He needed to be patient, but it was damn hard.
He stared at the photo on his phone she sent him four days ago. God, he missed her. The close-up showed the empty pillow beside her and part of her face. He stared at the sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks, the sadness in her blue eyes, and the letter and heart-shaped rock she’d kept with her on her journey to nowhere. It gave him hope.
“Where are you, sweetheart?”
His father came up beside him and glanced down at the photo. He placed his hand around King’s shoulders and hugged him to his side. “Instead of talking to your phone, you might use it to call her.”
“I call her every day.”
His father studied the picture. “What does she say about coming back?”
“She doesn’t say anything. I do all the talking.” King stepped away and leaned against the porch post, staring out at the ranch he grew up on and the horses dotting the nearby pasture. The last rays of sunlight faded and stars began to crowd the darkening sky. “I don’t know how to make her believe I love her.”
His father planted his hands on the porch railing and leaned forward, staring at the same view, everything he’d built over a lifetime with Dawson’s mom. “From what you’ve told me, people have proclaimed that to her time and again, and time and again showed how little they meant it. If she’s really the one, never give up. Put her first. She saw what a good man you are. Remind her of that every chance you get.”
“I’m trying. I want her back, but she’s still lost and out there somewhere.” He stared at the vastness of the land before him and wondered if she’d settled in one place or simply drifted from one town to the next.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost everything and everyone in my life.”
King turned back and caught his father watching his mother through the window reading one of her beloved romance novels on the sofa.
“She didn’t lose me.”
His father met his gaze. “She must feel like she lost the you she knew.”
“I’m that guy.”
“No. She knew an ex-con looking for a second chance in society and with his family. A guy who made the wrong choices in life. That’s not you. You had to downplay the best things about you. You’re smart. You have integrity. You believe in always doing right by yourself and others. She thought you were like the other people she’d known her whole life, but you’re not. You’re a cop. You fight against everything the people in her life did.”
“She saw those qualities in me. That’s why she let her guard down and we ended up together. I hope she sees that the good things she saw in me make me a good cop as well as a good person.”
“I hope she remembers soon. For your sake. Your mother and I hate to see you hurting. It’s Friday night, and instead of a date with her, you’re visiting your mom and dad.”
“I’d rather be here than alone at home staring at the picture on my phone.” He glanced down at her picture again. Every time he looked at it the ache in his chest pulsed and the urge to go after her nearly overtook him. “I want to give her so much. A home. A family. My friendship and love. A life filled with happy memories.”
His father sighed and put his hand on King’s shoulder. “I want those things for you, too, son.”
“I have no idea if she’s coming back or when. Four days ago she sent me this picture and I’m still not sure it means what I hope it means.” Had he finally convinced her to come home?
“I’m sorry, son. I wish there was something I could do.”
King tried for a smile to ease his dad’s mind. “She’ll come back. I know she will.”
Cara hated the quiet, her own poor company, crappy motel mattresses, the rattle of the air conditioner, and that she was stupid enough to leave a good man. She didn’t miss her house, the property, or her coffee shop the way she missed him.
He’d done the one thing her father and uncle never did for her: let her go. If you love someone, set them free. She finally understood what that meant. Dawson understood that in order to hold on to what they had, he had to let her go so she could decide for herself what she really wanted. Yes, she’d left because she was done with her old life. She wanted a new one. One th
at she chose. One that she wanted. One that made her happy.
She hadn’t left him.
Dawson was the life she wanted.
She just needed a minute to say goodbye to her old life and grieve for all she’d lost, all the dreams she’d wanted but would never have now that her father and uncle were dead. She couldn’t fix that relationship. Her father would never have the chance to right his wrongs and be a real part of her life. He’d never walk her down the aisle or see his grandchildren.
But he had lived long enough to see her fall in love and to show her with one selfless act how much he loved her.
She had a lot of regrets. Not getting the chance to tell her father how sorry she was for always thinking the worst of him and never seeing the motivation behind his actions would remain the biggest regret of her life. Somehow, in the end, she believed he understood that even if she hadn’t said it.
She wouldn’t let losing Dawson become the regret that haunted her the rest of her life. She’d fight for him. For them. No matter how hard it was to face all the people in his life, his buddies at the DEA especially, all of them knowing who she was, where she came from, and that her family was responsible for the death of one of their own.
She hadn’t forgotten or dismissed the agent who died at her restaurant with Tandy. She had no idea how Dawson felt about it, if the man was a close friend of his, or if he blamed her for being so blind to what her uncle was capable of doing to innocent people.
Dawson had gone out of his way to make sure she was okay after what happened, despite her lack of participation in their conversations. She wanted to be there for him. If she had this much trouble dealing with her loss, she couldn’t imagine how Dawson felt being the one who pulled the trigger. He’d saved her life. She owed him a debt, but more than that, she wanted to be someone he counted on. They’d started as friends. She hadn’t been a very good one lately.
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