Vote Then Read: Volume III

by Aleatha Romig

  Valentina sat in the back of the staff kitchen, her feet tucked over the rungs of a stool as I eyed the wild tumble of curls. “Only an inch,” she said firmly.

  “Yes, ma’am. Shall I gather the clippings and put them in a locket for Lucas?” I teased.

  Valentina blushed, and her cheeks went pink as she rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Somehow, I doubt Lucas would think so.” That earned me another eye roll. “How are things with you two, anyway?”

  Valentina pursed her lips as she considered my question. “Good. I think.”

  “Are you still having hot as hell sex?”

  She giggled and nodded when I caught her eyes as I leaned around her shoulder. I decided I could use her advice. “So tell me, do you think I’m being crazy about Dawson?”

  She shook her head firmly, her curls swinging as I lifted a comb off the counter beside us. “How come?” I asked as I carefully began to comb through her curly hair.

  “Because of the way he looks at you.”

  Valentina’s words held such confidence. Just as I was about to reply, the door to the hallway opened, and Lucas stepped through.

  He looked toward us. I knew what Valentina meant about the way a man looked at someone. The way Lucas looked at her was enough to make me feel as if I’d interrupted a hot and heavy moment.

  Lucas had always been the tall, dark, and inscrutable type. At least, in my estimation. But when he looked at Valentina, his eyes cleared as if the sun had just broken through the clouds after days of rain. Oh, and he looked like he wanted to eat her up.

  He leaned his shoulder against the wall by the door. “You’re getting your hair cut?”

  I stepped away, pausing to sip my cup of coffee. Valentina nodded. “Just a trim.”

  I caught Lucas’s gaze and winked. “I promise I won’t cut more than an inch.”

  He chuckled. “Well, thank God for small favors. I was trying to be a good sport, but I love those curls.”

  Lucas was not a man to say much, so I almost melted on the spot at how sweet his words were. Not for me, but for my friend. I looked at Valentina. “You’re stuck with those curls forever.”

  She smiled, her cheeks blooming pink as Lucas pushed away from the wall and crossed to her quickly, closing the distance between them in a few strides. Leaning down, he cupped her cheek and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. He stepped back swiftly, almost as if the distance was necessary to maintain his control. Considering how totally hot Valentina was, I surmised it was entirely necessary.

  “I have a hike this afternoon. Are you coming over tonight?” he asked, the hopefulness in his voice making my heart squeeze for them.

  Valentina nodded. “If you want.”

  Lucas arched a brow. “Of course, I want,” he teased.

  Valentina and Lucas had only recently got together. They were trying to take things slow for the sake of his daughter. After Rylie’s mother died, most of Lucas’s life revolved around her. While I commended them for their restraint, it was obvious they were deeply in love.

  After Lucas left, I drained my coffee and returned to Valentina’s curls. The rich dark shade of red was so gorgeous it was hard to believe it was natural. “You two are so romantic it hurts to watch,” I commented as I began combing through her hair.

  Valentina shrugged lightly. “Really?”

  “Oh my God,” I replied, fanning my face and sighing. “Sweet Jesus. One of these days, Lucas is going to set a building on fire with the way he looks at you. It’s so hot and sweet.”

  Valentina took that comment and spun it right back to our conversation before Lucas interrupted us. “That’s what I mean about Dawson.”

  “What? He does not look at me that way.”

  When I glanced around her shoulder as I stepped to her side to begin trimming, her grin was knowing. “Oh yes, he does. He always has. Or at least as long as I’ve been here. Here’s the thing. He covers it up because he’s such a tease, but before you two got together, there was his regular teasing, and then what he does with you. You’ve always been in your own special category for him.”

  “Oh,” I replied as I snipped at the ends of her curls, turning the idea over in my mind.

  Though it was hard to believe Valentina when I wasn’t swimming in the currents of self-doubt, if I let myself consider the look in his eyes when we were alone together, I knew how it felt. His gaze washed away the world around us. Everything else fell away in the space we held together.

  Dani sent me to Asheville with Dawson, ostensibly to pick up supplies. We were, in fact, picking up supplies for the restaurant and lumber for the cabins Jackson and most of the guys were building before the snow flew. Although we had good reason to go, I sensed she was doing her best to throw us together. Not that she needed to try very hard.

  We were spending every night together as it was, but I still had those lingering worries about the weeks when he shut me out and the reasons behind it.

  We were driving one of the lodge trucks today, a giant truck with a bench seat. Dawson tugged me to his side as soon as we started driving. With his warm, strong palm curled over my thigh, I was finding it hard to focus.

  “You know, you don’t have to have your hands on me all the time,” I muttered, restlessly shifting my legs. When I glanced up and his silver gaze caught mine, the now familiar desire flickering there, I felt a tug in my belly and squeezed my thighs together.

  “Are you complaining?” he countered.

  “Not exactly. It’s just sometimes I need to focus.”

  His low chuckle warmed my heart. After we got the lumber, he suggested we grab lunch at Candy’s Diner. Seeing as I was starving, and I knew the food was guaranteed to be good, I was happy to go along.

  Once we were seated, Dawson glanced over at me. “So what are you getting?”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “I’m going for her massive everything breakfast. I’m fucking starving.”

  “What’s in the everything breakfast?”

  “Bacon, eggs, hash browns, and a side of biscuits and gravy.”

  “That’s what I’m getting.”

  When a smile slowly stretched across his face, emotion rocked me out of nowhere. There was something so mundane about stopping to get breakfast together. It felt real and true and simple and everything. Just breakfast.

  After we ate, Dawson went to the restroom before we left. Candy stopped by our table, holding up a pot of coffee in question. “Oh no, I’ve had enough for today. Thank you,” I said.

  She looked at me for a long moment after she lowered the coffeepot. “I hope you know how much you mean to him.”

  I nodded, my pulse fluttering wildly. “I think I do.”

  At that moment, he returned to the table, and I took my chance to take a bathroom break. After we left with hugs from Candy and were back in the truck, Dawson glanced over, his gaze suddenly serious.

  “She told me to stop being an idiot,” he said.

  “How are you being an idiot?”

  “I explained why I kind of flipped out and kept you at a distance. I was afraid of how much you meant and whether I could be the kind of man you deserve.” He idly traced his finger over the curve of the steering wheel.

  His lashes brushed against his cheeks when he closed his eyes, and my heart squeezed. The man I had come to know was so much more than what he showed on the surface. He felt things deeply, and because of what he’d gone through, he held everything close inside.

  “Dawson, I can’t say I understand exactly what you’ve experienced because we all go through things differently. But I know what it’s like to feel the dark side. It’s different, I think, than what you’ve experienced, but after my sister died …” I paused, needing to take a breath because the pain hit me sharply just then. I’d learned the knife of grief dulled over time, but it was always there. And every so often, it twisted.

  He opened his eyes, his gaze clear. I didn’t have to explain further.
“I know. We’ve got this, right?”

  My heart opened wide. It felt as if the sun was pouring in so brightly I almost couldn’t bear the warmth of its blaze. “We do,” I said, reaching over to catch his hand.

  He squeezed tightly and then unfurled my hand, dropping a kiss in the center of my palm. “If there’s one thing I figured out, it’s that everything is better with you.”

  We made out in the truck, right there in the parking lot. We might’ve pushed the limits a bit too far because a horn nearby had us breaking apart, gasping for air.

  Epilogue

  Evie

  A year or so later

  I leaned back, the rock surface cool through my jacket. Dawson’s warmth emanated from beside me, and I rolled my head sideways to look at him in the moonlight. Because nature had graced him, perhaps too much, in the good looks department, I sighed.

  With the moon gilding his hair, I admired the clean lines of his profile, his straight nose, and his chiseled, square jaw. His sensual lips were nature giving a swirl on the mastery of his face.

  “You’re ridiculous, you know?”

  He glanced sideways. In the pearly light, I caught his silver-gray gaze. “How am I ridiculous?” he countered, the teasing tone in his voice making my belly ripple.

  A full year had passed, and I still felt as if Dawson had some sort of secret code into every part of my body. With nothing more than a smile, the sound of his voice, or God forbid, his touch, he could send an electric sizzle down my spine and heat spinning through my veins.

  I rolled onto my side, adjusting my elbow on the jacket he’d laid on the rock for me. “You’re too good looking. God, I hope you lose your hair or something. If not, I’ll spend my entire life feeling inadequate.”

  His grin stretched wider. “Cut that shit out. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  The thing was, when Dawson said it, I believed it. It wasn’t about whether I was objectively, but more the way I felt when held in his ebullient gaze.

  “And you’re a flatterer and a tease,” I countered.

  He rolled to his side, mirroring my position so we faced each other in the darkness. This was our last night here at Stolen Hearts Lodge, and we decided to visit the rock where everything had started. I’d come to accept that we’d likely have found our way to each other no matter what, yet the night we ran into each other here had certainly set the universe turning.

  “Maybe,” he said, lifting a hand and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. A little shiver chased down my side at the brush of his fingers along the sensitive skin there. “But you’re the only one I flatter and tease anymore.”

  My heart squeezed, and I shifted a little closer, tucking my knees against his. “Mostly. Except for the animals, the guys, and well, everyone.”

  His low laugh vibrated through me. “Okay, let me clarify. You’re the only one I want.”

  Dawson had turned out to be the best kind of boyfriend. He was ridiculously attentive, and when we were in public, I was half-embarrassed most of the time. Smiling, I dusted a kiss on his cheek and pulled back. “So, you ready?” I asked.

  “For what?”

  “Moving into our house. It’s kind of a big step.”

  He lifted his shoulder in a small shrug. “Not with you. Everything is easy with you. I have a question.”

  He said that last bit almost offhandedly, dropping it in so casually, it snagged my attention, and it suddenly felt momentous. I couldn’t say why, but I was always fumbling with this echoing feeling that I might lose him somehow. It wasn’t because of anything he’d ever done or because of anything horrible some other man had done.

  No, rather, I think it was because of the echo of my twin sister’s death. Dawson was the only other person I’d been this close to. My connection with him was a different kind of connection—for obvious reasons—yet it contained an intimacy I had never experienced before. My belly tightened in a nervous, spinning anticipation.

  As he looked at me, the anxiety started to calm. After we stumbled through the beginning of our relationship, Dawson had become the most stable, centering force in my life. My parents loved me, as did my brother, but I’d been the one in my family who struggled the most in the aftermath of Krista’s death. No one quite knew how to help me, so I’d often feel alone, swimming in a grief that almost drowned me at times.

  Dawson rarely spoke of it, but he was so one-hundred-percent rock solid there. For me.

  He shifted, sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a ball of tissue. Upon closer inspection in the darkness, I saw that it was a silk handkerchief.

  “Marry me, Evie,” he said simply.

  I had prepared myself for many eventualities with our transition, but I hadn’t prepared for this. My mouth must’ve fallen open because Dawson reached over and tapped his knuckles lightly on my chin. I snapped my mouth shut; my eyes hot with tears as emotion crashed through me.

  “Are you serious?” I asked, my voice thick.

  He cupped my chin, his thumb swiping across my cheek and catching the tears as they fell. “Of course, I’m serious. You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t want to waste any time. It’s not like we rushed. We knew each other for two years before anything ever happened, and it’s been a year since then. If you want to wait, I’ll understand. But I just want you to know where I’m at. There is no doubt in my mind that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  The thing about a man whose fallback was to tease was that when he was serious, it was breathtaking.

  My own heart was going completely wild. If it could have burst into song and dance, I was certain it would’ve. Although I supposed the number my heart was doing on my ribs was some form of crazy tap dance.

  I couldn’t seem to speak, but I managed to nod and swiped a few more tears away. He never once looked away, holding my gaze the entire time.

  I hiccupped. Only I could manage to get the hiccups when the only man I ever loved asked me to marry him.

  “Yes,” I finally whispered, joy bursting open inside.

  Dawson let out a slow sigh. He closed the distance between us, catching my lips in a searing hot kiss. When he drew back, he unfolded the handkerchief with one hand and laid his palm flat. A silver band set with a sapphire sat there.

  “You said it was your favorite stone,” he explained when I gasped and hiccupped again.

  Another thing I’d come to learn about Dawson? He remembered everything. He paid attention to the small details. We’d had a single conversation I could recall about this over dinner and drinks one evening at the lodge with friends.

  I started crying all over again.

  He brushed my tears away, dusting kisses over my cheeks before finding his way to my mouth again. In a matter of seconds, what started out slow evolved into a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Even though it was chilly, caught in the fire that was ever burning between us, we were tugging at each other’s clothes. In a matter of minutes, Dawson had sweet-talked me out of my leggings as he wrapped his jacket around my waist while I sank down over his thick, hard length, sheathing him in my core.

  A bit later while we walked back to the cabin we shared here at the lodge, Dawson held my hand warm in his. He paused at the edge of the trees, his silvery gaze catching mine in the darkness. “I love you.”

  Leaning up, I ruffled his hair. “Same.”

  Dawson

  Another six months later

  I shouldered through the door to the back of the staff area at the lodge. I was fucking exhausted. Wade and I had done a guided hike for five days with a group. It had included white water rafting, hiking, and rock climbing. I still loved my job, but these longer trips were hard because I missed Evie when I was away.

  Life was good. So good I couldn’t believe it sometimes.

  Evie was in grad school for business. She still covered extra shifts at the lodge restaurant and cut her friends’ hair, but she was focused on school these days. I was hoping to see he
r because Dani told me she was back here doing something with Grace’s hair.

  Pushing through another door from the back hallway, her voice carried to me right away, and my heart kicked up a notch. As I looked across the room, my knees buckled slightly. I didn’t think of myself as a weak man, but I was when it came to Evie.

  She hadn’t seen me yet. Her glossy brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, which swung as she moved. My eyes landed on the now obvious curve of her belly. I couldn’t help the surge of pride followed immediately by lust.

  She was six months pregnant, and I could hardly believe it. Also, who knew that seeing her pregnant would basically make me crazy? In the best kind of way.

  Hot damn, she was so fucking sexy.

  The moment I crossed the room, I was wrapping my arms around her from behind, dipping my head into her neck, and breathing in the scent of her.

  She squeaked. “Oh, my God! You startled me, Dawson. Did y’all get back early?”

  I lifted my head, leaning around to find a smile stretching across her face as she angled to look back at me. “Only about two hours early. I missed you.”

  Her cheeks flushed pretty and pink, and she leaned up to press a kiss to my cheek. “Missed you too.”

  Dropping my head into the sweet curve of her neck, I couldn’t resist trailing a few hot, wet kisses along the silky skin there.

  “Get a room,” Grace protested.

  Lifting my head, I ran a palm over the round curve of Evie’s belly because I couldn’t help myself before I stepped back. “Sorry,” I said, catching Grace’s eyes. “I missed Evie.”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s kinda obvious. I’d tell her to cut my hair later, so y’all could get to it, but she’s already in the middle of it,” Grace explained, pointing at one side of her head, which had papers folded over sections of hair with a bright purple color bleeding through.