Vote Then Read: Volume III

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Vote Then Read: Volume III Page 138

by Aleatha Romig


  Chad held Dawson’s eyes for a long moment, some kind of silent communication occurring, then he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll grab a shower. Where are you staying?”

  “I booked a room at Dune’s Beach.”

  If it was unusual for Dawson not to stay with his family, it didn’t show on Chad’s face. He nodded his assent and turned away from us. He quickly tidied up the area where he’d been working, sweeping up some sawdust and dumping it in the trashcan before putting away his tools.

  “What do you have going these days for projects?” Dawson asked conversationally.

  “Oh, we’re working on several houses in a new subdivision. I’m doing the cabinetry work right now.” Chad closed the case over a power tool and turned to face us. “Let’s go.”

  Moments later, I watched Chad’s truck turn the opposite direction on the road. The blinker in Dawson’s truck clicked in the background as he waited for a car to pass on the road. “Not to be weird, but do you usually stay at a hotel when you visit your family?” I asked.

  Dawson didn’t turn to look toward me. His hand had been relaxed over the top of the steering wheel, but at my words, his fingers curled around it, gripping tightly. I could almost feel the ripple of tension run through him, and I suddenly regretted my question.

  “I guess I might as well give you a little background. No, I don’t stay with my family. My brother’s got his own place, an apartment above the main offices for his construction company. He took over the company after our dad died. My mom is in an assisted living home. She has emphysema and congestive heart failure. Not because she smoked, but probably because she spent too long sucking up the secondhand smoke from my father. She helps Chad with the accounting, but she doesn’t get out much. We still have the old family home.”

  He tacked on that last sentence almost as an afterthought.

  “Oh, how come your brother doesn’t live there?”

  Dawson hadn’t pulled out and seemed to have forgotten we were driving anywhere. He finally looked my way, his silvery-gray gaze holding mine. Looking into his eyes, I felt as if I were watching clouds gathering in the sky.

  “I hate that house. It’s not something I like to talk much about, but my dad was a fucking asshole. He knocked me and my mom around. He was a drunk, and then he got hooked on pills. He died there. If the house were in my name, I’d have sold it already, but it’s up to my mom and my brother.” He recited that brief history in a flat, weary tone. A jagged silence fell, and he released the steering wheel, running his hand through his hair and letting it fall to the seat where his fingers idly traced along a row of stitching.

  It felt as if a brick had hit me in the chest, the weight of those few sentences was so heavy. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Dawson. I had no idea.”

  My words felt entirely inadequate. I wanted to be able to reach into the past and somehow protect Dawson. Instinctively, I reached for his hand, curling mine around it.

  His eyes slid away, his lashes sweeping against his cheeks as he closed them. Not that I hadn’t already caught on, but I was becoming more keenly aware of just how little I knew about Dawson.

  When his eyes swept open again, the pain and regret there had tears stinging hot at the backs of my eyes. Yet it didn’t seem right for me to be the one crying. I waited, sensing he had more to say.

  The sound of him swallowing was audible in the small cab of the truck. “Yeah, it sucked. I love my mom, and my brother means the world to me, but I gotta love them from a distance. Being here brings up too much shit for me.” His fingers tightened around mine, giving a little squeeze. “I don’t know why I wanted to bring you here. I didn’t mean for it to be weird.”

  My heart felt cracked open, the depth of emotion I felt for Dawson multiplying the more my understanding of him expanded.

  “It’s not weird. Family is messy. My parents were loving, and nothing like that happened, but they were also kind of strict and pretty overprotective, especially after my sister died. So don’t ever apologize for stuff like that. We all have messed up stuff with our families.”

  His eyes held mine, and the intent and searching look contained within them stripped me bare.

  “Okay,” he said, his voice low and gruff. He leaned forward, surprising me when he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was brief, and there was nothing sexual about it, but it tugged on my heart, stitching me tighter to him.

  He leaned back, squeezing my hand again before he released it. He looked forward, watching as another car passed us by. When he turned onto the main road, he glanced sideways. “Dune’s Beach is nice, by the way. It’s where I usually stay. Maybe because when I was a kid, it was so far above my life, but now I can afford it. I might not be rich, but I’m sure as hell not as poor as I once was.”

  “It seems like your brother does all right,” I commented.

  “He’s done real well for himself, taking what my dad left behind and making it better.”

  We fell quiet after that. I looked out the window, watching the flat landscape unfurl. Half a day’s drive later, the mountains had given way to rolling hills about midway through the state before the land leveled to the coastal plains of North Carolina. We were driving on a highway along the beach. All the signs of the crowded coastal world were apparent with neon signs and shops everywhere. It was far less busy than when I’d been here in years past. I’d come here a few times in the summers with my family, and it was always packed to the gills with cars and people.

  With it being autumn, the crowds had thinned, and the beaches were empty except for a few walkers. The wind whipped across the Atlantic Ocean, and tangerine and gold streaked the sky as the sun slid down the horizon opposite the sea.

  “Unlike my dad, Chad stays sober and works his ass off. There’s good money in construction when you do that. I love to build, but there was no way I would take over my dad’s business,” Dawson added, his low voice piercing the quiet.

  “I understand,” I said softly, my heart aching to think about what Dawson’s childhood must’ve been like. I had only a sketch of the details, but I felt the echo of the pain he carried.

  The rest of the drive was quiet, but it was comfortable. I was coming to learn silence with Dawson was usually comfortable. I liked that about him and us. I was starting to realize that my heart was in real danger here.

  I didn’t suppose one step at a time meant my step being a stumble and fall into love.

  Dawson’s mother was lovely. I knew at a glance that his beautiful silver-gray eyes and the almost aristocratic bent to his features came from her. She had the same lovely cheekbones and strong nose. Her fading blond hair was tied up in a knot. She managed to be elegant even though she was on oxygen.

  She patted the chair beside her, her eyes on Dawson. “Now, honey. Come sit by me.”

  I wasn’t sure how to manage this, but Dawson said he wanted me to meet her. I’d had manners drilled into me by my mother, so I figured they would get me through this. Here I was, well on the way into being in love with her son with no idea how he felt about me, nor how she would interpret my presence with him.

  When Dawson reached her chair, he leaned over to press a gentle kiss against her temple. “How ya feelin’?”

  Her voice was reedy when she spoke. “I’m all right. I miss you,” she said as he sat gingerly in the chair beside her.

  He squeezed her hand. “Love you, Mom. Came to visit because I miss you.”

  The love and affection between them were so clear, it almost hurt to bear witness to it. Dawson glanced over at me. “I brought someone to meet you. This is Evie,” he said with a nod in my direction. “And this is my mother, Anita.”

  His mother looked over at me, her smile warm. “Well, hello, dear. Dawson has never brought a girl to visit me, so you must be special.”

  I smiled. “I didn’t know that. Now I’m kind of nervous,” I said honestly. “But it’s quite nice to meet you.”

  Anita angled her head to the chair on her other side. I sat down,
perching on the edge of the seat and folding my hands on my knees.

  “So tell me about yourself.”

  Her words were kind, but I had no idea where to start. I suppose when you visit someone sick, the likelihood they would cut through the bullshit was much higher. I imagine she didn’t want to waste time with small talk.

  “Well, I’m Evie,” I began, immediately wondering why I repeated the introduction. “I met Dawson because we both work at Stolen Hearts Lodge. I grew up near there.” Pausing, I looked at Dawson. I could see his expression was careful. Strangely, it gave me a sense of relief to realize this was possibly as new to him as it was to me. We hadn’t done the meeting the family thing, so it was new for both of us.

  Just as I was wondering what else to say, Chad arrived, taking the focus off me. I leaned back and mostly listened as they chatted. By the time we left, the tension had unspooled slightly inside me. His mother pulled me close for a hug when she stood, moving her oxygen out of the way on its wheeled cart.

  A short drive later, we were at a seafood restaurant with a lovely view of the ocean in the downstairs of our hotel.

  “So, Evie, tell me how you and Dawson met,” Chad said after we had ordered.

  Dawson rolled his eyes. “Dude, you already know that. How about you tell me what’s up with your love life?” he parried, kicking the can of the conversation right back to him.

  Chad chuckled. “Dude, I’m six years younger than you, and I’m running a business. I don’t have time for romance.”

  Dawson threw his head back with a laugh. “Fair enough.”

  They settled into an easy banter. Once his brother wasn’t questioning me about the status of our relationship, I discovered he had the same easygoing humor as Dawson. Only at one point did something tense come up.

  Chad commented, “So we need to talk about the house. Mom signed over her half to you. I’d like to put it on the market and unload it once and for all.”

  “What the fuck?” Dawson muttered. His hand tightened around the beer bottle he held. “Look, man, I told her I wanted nothing to do with it. I don’t want the money.”

  “Yeah, and she pointed out she’s fucking dying,” Chad retorted. “I don’t wanna argue with her about it. She did it behind my back. I’m assuming you’re on board with me putting it on the market?”

  “Of course. I don’t want the money.”

  “Let’s worry about that when we sell it.”

  Dawson stood abruptly from the booth. “Be right back. I’m running to the men’s room.”

  After he strode away quickly, I looked over at Chad and shrugged. “That seems like a touchy subject.”

  Chad sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back. “Oh, hell yeah. What do you know?”

  “Not much. Just that your dad knocked y’all around, and then he died of an overdose.”

  Chad was quiet for several moments, looking down at the table and tracing his fingertip along with the lines of a pattern on the placemat. On the heels of a deep breath, he lifted his head, lasering me with his eyes. “Look, Dawson is one of the best men I know. He took care of me when we were growing up. My father never laid a hand on me because Dawson always got in the way. I can tell things might be fresh between you two, but you gotta understand it’s fucking huge that he brought you here.”

  My mouth almost dropped open as I stared at him. Meanwhile, my heart ached a little more for the boy who’d protected his own younger brother so completely.

  “Oh,” I breathed, swallowing through the emotion tightening in my throat.

  Chad smiled, a touch of sadness and rue contained in his gaze. “Maybe I’m overstepping, but I wanted to say something because it seems like you really like him. I also know how my big brother can come across.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The class clown. That’s how he covers up. He’s funny as hell, so it comes easy. He’s also a relentless flirt, which I’m sure you know.”

  I laughed softly, pausing to finish off my glass of wine. “I might be familiar with that tendency of his.”

  At that moment, Dawson returned to the table, sliding into the booth beside me. Glancing at his brother, he asked, “So why don’t you just decide what the plan will be with the house and let me know?”

  Tension emanated from Dawson. His eyes were guarded, his lips pressed in a thin line, and his shoulders were stiff. I wanted to hug him close and tell him not to worry, but now wasn’t the time for that.

  “No problem,” Chad said easily. “I was already dealing with it anyway. I just didn’t want you to get surprised if you got something in the mail about it since Mom signed over her portion to you.”

  Dawson nodded tightly. “Thanks, man.” After a beat, he shifted topics. “You going to get out to the mountains to visit me any day?”

  Chad flashed a grin. “In all my spare time.”

  A smile teased the corners of Dawson’s mouth, and I could sense him relaxing a little. “It wouldn’t do you any harm to take a break.”

  “I’ll think about it. Maybe come summer when it’s so fucking hot here I could use a few days away from the construction sites.”

  Chad deftly moved the conversation onto lighter matters after that, sharing a few funny stories from local friends. By the time we left to go to the room, Dawson was relaxed again. He insisted on covering the bill, giving his brother a back-slapping hug before we left. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

  “Of course. Should I just meet y’all here?”

  “No, let’s grab breakfast at Candy’s old diner. She tells me it’s still good,” Dawson replied.

  When Chad nodded, Dawson smiled, sliding his arm around my shoulders as his brother turned away with a wave. When he glanced down at me, I thought I still saw a glimmer of pain in his gaze. My heart gave a little squeeze, and I wanted to pull him close and remind him that pain was just something you had to learn to live with sometimes. I sensed he knew it already, but he tried so damn hard not to dwell.

  While I couldn’t say I had the same experiences—because none of us shared the same life—when my sister died, I truly felt as if a part of me was ripped away. In a way, it was. She was my identical twin, and that kind of bond wasn’t something I’d ever find again. Even in the face of what felt insurmountable at first, the gaping wound in my heart had eventually scabbed over and healed.

  Scars are tougher than unblemished skin. Even those invisible scars we carry on our hearts. Those become the strongest of all. Because you learn you can walk through the fire and come out stronger on the other side. You might actually get burned, but you’d still be okay and be all the tougher for it.

  Dawson’s hand slipped from my shoulder and along the curve of my waist to rest on my hip. Pausing beside the elevator, he glanced down again and promptly stole my breath, sending butterflies aflutter in my belly. The look in his eyes was dark and intent, barely leashed desire.

  16

  Dawson

  I could feel the soft give of Evie’s skin under my palm. I was wound tight inside. Although her presence here added to my sense of confusion, I was beyond relieved she was here.

  I tried to visit every few months, yet the ghosts of the past were always waiting for me. I hated that my mother was sick. I knew death was a foregone conclusion for all of us, but it didn’t seem fair for her to be sick.

  She’d put up with too much fucking bullshit and pain doled out by my father—sometimes with his fists and sometimes with emotional cuts. After he died, all I wanted for her was an easy life. Every spare penny I had went into covering her long-term care insurance, which wasn’t cheap. I just wanted her to be comfortable.

  And that fucking house? I wanted nothing to do with it and no profit from it. I’d already decided I would simply sign it over to my brother.

  Evie’s presence was like a beam of sunshine. Her warm smile and the promise contained in her gorgeous blue eyes eased the coldness that could so easily descend over me whenever I came home.

&nb
sp; Once we were in the elevator, I leaned against the wall and pulled her close. She didn’t hesitate, her soft curves pressing against me. She’d become so much more than a distraction. She didn’t know it yet, but she fucking owned me. And I had no idea how to play this, to get her to see how much she mattered to me.

  How much we mattered.

  For tonight, I would lose myself in her.

  I brushed her silky hair away from her face, watching her eyes darken slightly, and her tongue dart out to moisten her lips.

  “Thanks for coming with me. I suppose I should’ve warned you,” I said.

  “About what? Your brother’s a nice guy, and your mom is a sweetheart. I’m sorry she’s sick.”

  My chest felt tight, and I ignored the voice that wanted to tell me I didn’t deserve someone like Evie. Because this girl? She just did it for me.

  Here she was, being sweet, even though I got all pissed at my brother about our childhood home.

  “I got a little cranky back there,” I explained with a shrug.

  “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. We all have stuff we have to carry.”

  She leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. I thought she meant the kiss to comfort me, but as spun tight as I was inside, it instantly morphed into the fiery desire burning between us. When I was close to Evie, the heat was always banked, so all it took was the slightest bit of fuel. Her lips on mine were more than a little bit.

  I slipped one hand into her hair, cupping the nape of her neck with the other gliding down her back to squeeze her sweet, lush ass. She dived right into the flames with me, opening her mouth on a sigh.

  Moments later, we were both gasping for air when the elevator stopped. Stumbling out, I held her hand tightly in mine. She hurried down the hall with me through the door into our room.

  Kicking the door shut behind me with my boot, I spun her around, and we slammed against the wall in the narrow entryway. Our kiss was hot and messy. I devoured her mouth, and she met me stroke for stroke, never once hesitating, never once backing down.

 

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