Until Dawn

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Lovely. The groom’s name is Marcelo Diaz. I’m trying to sneak him a message, and was hoping you could put me through?”

  She laughed again. “So long as you’re not planning on hijacking his bride.”

  I laughed too. “Hardly. I’m actually looking for a tip on how to get his sister to fall a little more in love with me.”

  “Well, that’s the best, sweetest thing I’ve heard all night, Ethan. Hang on for one second, and I’ll put you through.”

  “Thanks, Lise. Much appreciated.”

  I leaned back as the line clicked, then rang on the other end, and waited for the answering service to come on. Instead, Marcelo’s voice startled me into sitting up again.

  “Hey,” he said. “Whoever this is, it better be good, ‘cause I’m about to practice getting married!”

  I cleared my throat, unusually nervous. “This is, uh, Ethan Burke. I wasn’t actually expecting you to pick up.”

  “Ethan! Hey, man, yeah. Just forgot something in the room and had to sneak back up.”

  “You remember me from a few days ago?”

  “Can’t say I thought you’d be calling me here, but yeah, I remember. How could I forget? First date my baby sister’s had in literal years. Thought she was becoming a nun. Hoping she was, maybe.”

  I tried to force a laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. “That’s why I’m calling, actually.”

  “You’re starting a convent?”

  “Hardly.”

  Marcelo went silent for a second, then sighed. “All right. I was being deliberately flippant because I don’t want to hear about Mia’s love life.”

  “Sorry, man.” I scrubbed a hand over my chin, but made no offer to hang up. “I just wasn’t sure who else to ask.”

  “Okay. Bearing in mind that this is my sister we’re talking about, tell me what you’re after. No bullshit.”

  I took a second to organize my thoughts, trying to find a way to say things nicely. Appropriately. Using words that wouldn’t get me a black eye and a bruised kidney.

  “No bullshit,” I finally said. “I met your sister two weeks ago, but it feels like two years. She kissed me, and the world kind of shifted. It sped up. Then she decided not to kiss me anymore, and the world stopped. I’m in an unpleasant, zero-gravity free fall, and I’m desperate to undo it.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this,” he muttered. “But why?”

  “Why?” I repeated.

  “Why’d she decide not to kiss you?”

  I took a breath, then launched into the most succinct version of events, skipping over the best parts and highlighting the worst. Telling him why I’d come to town and about how my business worked, and how I was sure things with Mia weren’t work-related in the slightest bit.

  “Am I totally fucked?” I asked at the end, closing my eyes and waiting for the worst.

  It didn’t come. Instead, Mia’s brother sounded sympathetic.

  “With Lu, it’s all about trust,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “It’s not an unfounded fear, either.”

  “I know that too.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “She told you.”

  “About Gary,” I confirmed. “And about the money and about what happened after.”

  “She probably didn’t tell you that she still feels responsible for all of us. She thinks she let us down, obviously. And all that counseling she had…it made her so cautious that she doesn’t fully trust herself, or something. That’s the best way I can put it.” He exhaled heavily. “None of us blame her for a single damned thing. We sorted our shit out. Our parents and I both know the entire blame lies at that bastard’s feet.”

  Something clicked. “She thinks it’s her.”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “No. I mean, yes, you said it.” And if I apply it to us and our situation… “I need to make sure she knows she’s not a liability to herself.”

  “Yeah, man. That pretty much sums it up. She probably needs to be told in black and white that it’s okay to, uh—” He cleared his throat. “Fall in love?”

  The question sounded almost like a threat, and in spite everything, I smiled. “That’s my end game.”

  “All right. I’ve gotta hang up. Marriage rehearsal and all. But one other thing, Ethan…”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you hurt her, I will personally kick your ass all the way from here to Timbuktu.”

  “Noted.”

  I hung up the phone then, and swung my feet back up on the bed, feeling infinitely more settled.

  “Thank you, Marcelo Diaz,” I murmured.

  I closed my eyes, thinking about grand gestures and declarations of love and how best to use them. What words would work? What would make my favorite, honey brown eyes light up and fill with the trust I needed? I could think of exactly three. They were the right ones. But would they be enough? I damned well hoped so.

  Unexpectedly, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off with visions of red hair and freckled skin lulling me to sleep.

  * * * *

  Mia

  I stared miserably into my untouched gin and tonic and waited for Liv to say something. Anything, really. Though I was expecting something critical.

  The rehearsal and dinner had gone off without a hitch.

  My brother and Aysia were set to be blissfully happy.

  But I couldn’t get my mind away from Ethan. Away from the ache in my heart. In my soul. Which is why, in desperation, I’d asked Liv to join me at the hotel bar for a drink. I’d poured out the whole story to her. I started with the kiss. I gave her the syncopated version of Gary-the-con events. And I ended with the fact that I’d left him in my room. Yet Liv just sat there. Silent.

  “Say something,” I finally urged.

  “Ethan Burke.”

  “Not his name.”

  “No, but…really. Ethan Burke, aka E. B. Burke.”

  “All the letters make my head hurt. But yes. Him.”

  “The owner and operator of Burke Holdings”

  I made an exasperated noise. “Isn’t that what I said? You’re making me feel like I’m ridiculous for not knowing who he was in the first place.”

  “You’re not ridiculous,” she replied, “but there was the magazine article about him one time. One of those most eligible bachelor things. You know I’m always on the hunt. Let me see if I can find it.” She pulled out her phone, typed away furiously, but stopped abruptly and lifted her eyebrows at me. “Whoa. Wait. This is Ethan Burke?”

  I glanced down, my throat tightening at the sight of him on her phone. It was him. Expensive suit. Small smile. Dark, unreadable eyes.

  “Yes,” I said. “That would be Ethan.”

  “But…he’s the stripper!” Liv exclaimed.

  “Oh. Right. I guess I left that out. He’s not actually a stripper. Obviously.”

  “Hell of an oversight. Of course, now I feel ridiculous for not recognizing him.”

  “Can we please focus on the problem?” I pleaded.

  “I don’t know what the problem is, exactly,” she replied. “He’s a multi-millionaire! Probably a billionaire, actually. Like…top twenty richest men in the country!”

  “I know. Because he steals people’s companies.”

  “I don’t think reputable businessmen go around stealing companies.”

  “Did you hear nothing I just said?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I heard all of it. He tried to buy you out. You said no. He became insistent, you became defensive. There was some hot sex, and now you’re sitting here with me instead being upstairs, boinking him.”

  “Boinking? Seriously?”

  “Making crazy, uninhibited love,” she amende
d with an eye roll.

  I groaned. “He bought my damned building, Liv.”

  “And he said it was a mistake.”

  “How does that make it any less underhanded?”

  “Back the truck up a second. Let’s just assume he’s as crazy as you are. He’s totally desperate to not admit that he wants your company more than he wants your company. So he goes that extra insanity mile, only to realize afterward that he’s essentially screwed himself over. It’s kinda too late, so all he can do is apologize.”

  “There are so many assumptions in that scenario,” I replied.

  But something about it seems plausible, anyway, doesn’t it? Ethan doesn’t do things halfway.

  I shook off the thought and added, “That doesn’t make him any less of a ruthless bastard, though, does it?”

  “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, dropping my gaze back to my drink.

  “Okay. Hang on. The article. It might sway your opinion a bit.” She clicked the phone screen a few times, then read aloud. “In the world of distribution, E. B. Burke is king. Half a decade ago, he resolved to do something to save small business in Canada. When asked if his umbrella company might be counterproductive to that ideal, Burke claimed that he sees himself as nothing more than a middleman. He also states that his own family’s loss is the inspiration for forming Burke Holdings After giving in to pressure to sell to a large corporation, Burke’s father lost his life and his business in a suspicious fire.”

  My heart flipped in my chest. “What?”

  Liv held out her phone. “Read it yourself. The guy’s not a jerk. He’s a motivated businessman with a heart of freakin’ gold.”

  Not really sure I wanted to, I took the cell phone and scanned the rest of the article. The writer talked about how Ethan didn’t like to talk much about the rough years between losing his father, then his mother, and the time he started his business. How he wanted a clean slate and worked hard to get it. He was driven. Determined never to let someone else go through what his dad had been through.

  “I thought…” I trailed off, unsure what I had believed.

  That he was hiding something damning at the very least.

  “Oh, God,” said Liv as she took the phone back. “You’re so blind.”

  “I am?”

  “He’s in love with you.”

  I swallowed. “Impossible.”

  “Really, Lu? It’s the night before your brother’s wedding, and you’re here…” She waved her hand around the bar. “Talking about Ethan Burke’s terribleness. While Ethan Burke himself is upstairs in your room. Waiting for you. For an eternity, apparently.”

  “I have to go up there, don’t I?”

  “No shit.”

  “I’m sorry for dragging you out here to whine.”

  She snagged my gin and tonic and hopped up. “No worries, I know how to make the best of it.”

  I jumped up too, gave her the briefest hug, then scurried out of the bar, hope making me move with quick enthusiasm. But the buoyed feeling in my chest didn’t last quite as long as it should. By the time I was actually in the elevator, self-doubt had crept back in. My feet dragged as I reached the hotel room door.

  Liv might be right. Ethan might be in love with me. But was I even capable of accepting that? Was I capable of trusting someone? He’d asked me for a chance. But what made me so sure that he’d take one on me?

  I stuck the key card into the slot, then pushed open the door. It was so still and quiet that I thought for a second that I was too late. That maybe Ethan hadn’t waited.

  Trepidation made me cold.

  But then I spotted him sprawled across one half of the king-size bed, and relief slammed into me so hard that I swayed.

  I stepped closer and let myself stare down at him.

  How did he manage to scatter my thoughts and make my heart thunder, even when he wasn’t awake?

  I studied the familiar lines of his body, searching for an explanation.

  His face was heartbreakingly handsome. I’d established that the moment I laid eyes on him. The ever-present, five-o’clock shadow. The strong jaw and thick lashes. I didn’t even have to think about them, and the dark brown of his irises filled my mind.

  My gaze traveled down the rest of his shiver-inducing body. He’d obviously taken me up on my offer of the shower, as evidenced by the fact that he wore nothing but a towel. The smallish piece of terrycloth staying on at all was a minor miracle, considering the way he was splayed out. But there was something just as endearing as there was sexy about his arm thrown back over his head. Like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep like that, but hadn’t been able to help it.

  It made me want to smile and cry at the same time. It was completely unfair to be made to feel this way about him. To have my heart expand to the point of bursting but to be unsure that I could have what I so desperately wanted.

  Swallowing the tears that threatened, I lowered myself to the edge of the bed. I lifted my fingers and held them over his chest, shaking a little.

  I craved contact, and he wouldn’t turn me away. I was a hundred percent certain of it. But I also knew I wanted more than physical satisfaction.

  I tried to draw in a steadying breath and started to stand, but his heady, masculine scent made me sway again. It was just enough time for Ethan to shift on the bed too. His hand came up and landed on my bare thigh. Then tightened. Heat zapped through me. And as much as I tried to keep it in, a want-tinged gasp escaped my lips.

  Ethan’s lids fluttered, then dragged open. When his eyes fixed on me, they were filled with desire. Affection. Need.

  And his voice was the same. “Mia?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your parents?” I blurted.

  He blinked sleepily. “I did.”

  “I mean the hard stuff. The fire.”

  “Ah. You finally looked me up on Google.”

  “No. Well. I mean, I looked you up before, but I didn’t see anything about that.”

  He gripped the towel, then turned and propped himself up on his elbow. “That article’s not my favorite. The guy who interviewed me caught me on the anniversary of the fire.”

  I stared down at him, sudden understanding sweeping in. “You think it makes you weaker.”

  He did a single shoulder shrug. “I’ve got more than my share of pride. And softness is what got my dad killed, so…”

  “What happened?” I asked softly.

  Ethan rolled to his back. “Things were rough, financially. I told you that before. So when this so-called businessman came in and offered my dad a substantial sum for his shop—I was out of town when it all happened, but the last call he made to me, he told me he’d accepted the offer for love. He wanted time with my mother before she passed. But he no sooner signed the paperwork than the new owner burned it down for the insurance money. The firefighters said my dad must’ve come by for something and tried to put out the fire. Smoke inhalation killed him.”

  “I’m so sorry, Ethan.”

  “Me too, honey. Which is why I decided to make sure that shit never happened to anyone else. No bad deals.”

  “You’re a good man,” I said.

  “I want to be.”

  A further truth hit me. “I’m a source of weakness. Of softness”

  He rolled back and grabbed me so quickly that my breath caught.

  “You are not a source of weakness,” he said. “I always believed that I understood why my dad sold so quickly and without properly looking into things. But it wasn’t until you kissed me and those literal fireworks went off that I truly knew what he meant.”

  His words should’ve made me happy. Instead, they brought inexplicable tears to the surface.

  Ethan reached out to wipe one away. “Lu, what’s wrong?”

&n
bsp; “It turns out it’s me.”

  “What’s you?”

  “I’m the liar, Ethan.”

  “You’re not a liar.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m so completely full of shit. The second I fell out of that tree and landed on you, nothing else mattered.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not, but I’ll take it.” He smiled, but it quickly turned a frown when he realized I wasn’t smiling too. “It’s not a compliment. You’re not happy that you want me?”

  “Because I’m not supposed to want you. Not more than I want anything else, anyway. My business. My life. Those are the things that make me me!” The words burst out in a furious rush of untethered emotion, and I dropped my gaze, embarrassed.

  He paused, then said, “Look at me.”

  “Why?”

  “Please.”

  I made myself lift my face, sure that shame was written all over it. He brought up his hand and dragged his knuckles along my cheekbone.

  “I don’t want it,” he said.

  For a single moment, I thought he meant me, and my heart threatened to shatter. But as I drew in a ragged, pain-filled breath, my brain caught up with my ears.

  He said it. Not you.

  I exhaled. “You don’t want what?”

  “Your store,” he replied.

  “Don’t just—”

  “Lumia. I mean it. I don’t want it. In fact. Hang on.”

  He rolled over, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, clicked it couple of times, then handed the device over to me. I squinted down at what appeared to be a tiny, legalese-filled document.

  I gave up trying to read it, and sighed. “Why don’t you just tell me what it is?”

  “It’s the deed to your building,” he said.

  I swallowed against the immediate lump in my throat. “And you’re showing it to me because…?”

  “It’s yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “If you want it, Lu.”

  “You want to give me the building.” I blinked. “It’s gotta be worth—”

  “A lot,” he agreed. “You’d be your own landlord. And some other people’s landlord too. But we can work that out if it’s not something you want to take on. There are property management companies, and—why are you looking at me like you’re going to say no?”