by Diana Gardin
He offers nothing more. I stare at him for another second, then replace his tags under his shirt. My fingers linger on the skin at the top of his chest. “I’m sorry.”
He nods. “Don’t be.”
We let the silence wash over us once again.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye after a few minutes. I want to know. I want to know the answers to all of the questions lurking behind those beautiful eyes of his. And so I know it’s time for me to go.
“Dare…”
He looks over at me, his hands clasped behind his head. “Berkeley.”
Dammit. Does he somehow know I have trouble continuing to speak when he says my name? Does he know?
“Thanks for the beer,” I say, sitting up.
He doesn’t. “You’re welcome. Are you leaving me so soon?”
No. “Yep.”
His mouth turns down, and I keep my hands firmly in my lap so that I don’t brush a finger across his full bottom lip.
A low rumble of thunder rolls around us, and I glance up at the sky. A storm is obviously on its way. When I look back at Dare, his gaze hasn’t moved from mine.
“Dare…”
He begins shaking his head before I’ve even begun my letting-him-down-easy speech. Does he read my mind, too?
“This has been a really great night…”
His hand on my chin stills me. It stills my thoughts and it stalls my words. I’m helpless with his hand on me.
“Don’t do that,” he says softly. “Don’t give me your ‘let-him-down-easy’ speech. Let’s pretend we’ve moved past that, okay? You don’t want to do this again, then tell me the real reason. I don’t do bullshit.”
He releases my skin, but there’s a burning in the spot now that wasn’t there before.
It takes me a moment to find my voice, and Dare waits patiently while another rumble of thunder rolls over our heads.
“I’m…I’m super attracted to you, Dare. But I’m not available to date right now. I’ll probably never be available to date. It’s…complicated.”
“You have a boyfriend.” He says it like a fact, not a question.
“I do not have a boyfriend.” It would have been the easy way out. I could have just let him believe that, but I find myself unable to lie to this sharp, sexy, honest man.
He stares at me, his expression unreadable. He rubs his rib again, and I allow my eyes to travel to that spot. He notices, and stops rubbing. When he speaks again, his voice hasn’t changed. It’s still soft, and still like a rough edge of a stone left out in the wind.
“So…you just aren’t that into me.”
I wish he’d stop searching for reasons. “Some things just aren’t going to work out.”
“I didn’t ask you to marry me, Berkeley. I didn’t even ask you out on a second date yet.”
I raise my eyebrows, and he quickly regroups. “I was going to. Shit, of course I was going to. But, if you don’t want to hang out again, I guess I have to accept that.”
I so don’t want him to accept it. But I nod my head, just as the sky above us opens, and we leap out of our chairs and sprint for the house.
By the time we reach it, we’re soaked. We run around to the driveway, where Dare’s truck is parked, and he helps me in and buckles me up while the rain pelts him.
When he finally makes it to the driver’s seat, he’s laughing. He runs his hands through his sopping wet hair, and I realize mine must look like a wet dog. Groaning, I pull out my hair tie and shake my mess of curls out around my shoulders.
“Shit! I didn’t realize it was supposed to rain tonight.” He scrubs his face with his hands, and then turns to face me. “I’m—”
He freezes when he looks at me, and my suspicions are confirmed. I’m definitely the hottest mess he’s ever seen. My hair is flopping everywhere, and I’m sure the small amount of makeup I had on my face now looks like I’m starring in The Walking Dead.
But that doesn’t matter. I just told him I couldn’t see him again. Who the hell cares what I look like?
The way he’s staring at me is causing my new pets, my butterflies, to take furious flight and my heartbeat to speed up at an alarming pace.
Then he reaches out and brushes that stupid strand of hair out of my eyes. The one my mother can’t stand.
“I love this,” he says. “I might as well tell you, seeing as how I won’t get the chance again.”
His finger follows an invisible trail along my cheek, pausing at the hollow beneath my eye. “And these. I fall into these every single time they’re focused on me. It scares the shit out of me. And nothing scares me, Berkeley.”
My breath is gone. I’ve lost it somewhere between his finger tracing a path on my face and the beautiful words he’s speaking. About me.
His finger changes trajectory, trailing down until he reaches my lips. Which are probably trembling. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking at these? All fucking night. All night tonight, and every other time I’ve been in your vicinity.”
His eyes drop to my lips then, and he uses his thumb to part them. Hot lava flows from my core into my every extremity until I feel like I must be catching fire. He’s setting me aflame. His touch, his words, those eyes on me. I can’t contain the desire that wells up inside me.
“Dare.” I breathe.
His eyes flicker back up from my lips. “Berkeley.”
“I guess if you’re going to kiss me, you’d better do it now. You might not get another chance.”
His hand curls around the nape of my neck, and I shudder. Hadn’t I pictured what it would feel like if he touched me like this? And now I know…it’s heavenly and sinful all at the same time. It’s hot and…
His lips crash against mine and Oh my God. Hot lava turns into massive, five-alarm flames, and I moan against his mouth. Shit! I didn’t mean to do that.
His tongue finds my bottom lip and traces a line across it, before finding the seam and nudging my mouth open. My lips part for him so easily I’m terrified my legs will do the same if he asks me. His other hand is tangled in my hair, and even though his hands aren’t on my body I can feel it tingling and buzzing in response to his lips alone.
When our tongues tangle together for the first time, he makes an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, which sends me spiraling into a sexy haze of want and need. Then he slows down, exploring my mouth for another second before pulling back altogether.
His face is inches from mine, his eyes staring so intently I could melt beneath that gaze.
I sigh, counting to ten exactly like my mother does when she’s frustrated. Then I raise one hand and waggle my fingers at him.
“What are you doing?” he says with a smile.
“Putting another spell on you with my evil vixen siren song.”
His chuckle is low, husky. I’m in such big trouble.
“I knew it!”
Then he drives me home, and I squeeze my thighs tightly together in order to release some of the tension this soldier has just created.
Trouble. Capital freaking T.
7
Dare
The incoming call is from Chase, and I curse when I read his name.
I’ve been dodging his calls for a week. It’s been…difficult to figure out how I can help him out of his latest pile of shit when I can’t stop imagining being holed up in my truck, pressed up against a very wet Berkeley.
Groaning, I roll my head back and stare at the ceiling.
The call goes to voice mail, and I glance down at my phone as it buzzes with an incoming text.
Stop avoiding me, bro. I need you.
“What are all those faces about?” asks Drake.
“My brother is at it again.” I lean back in my chair, glancing up at Drake where he stands, grilling steaks on the deck.
Drake jerks around to look at me. “Chase?”
I nod.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “What’d he do this time?”
I pause, because I don’t know exactly wha
t Chase did this time. I haven’t called him back yet.
“I only know he needs money. Trouble with some dudes back in Florida.”
Drake curses again. “You need to stop bailing his ass out, Dare.”
“He’s my brother. What am I supposed to do? He says it’s bad.”
“Of course it’s bad. Nobody comes to collect unless you owe them big. Chase is into the worst kind of bullshit, Dare. You gotta cut him loose. He’s not gonna learn. He’s not gonna change.” Drake has completely abandoned the grill in favor of a stern look in my direction, and wispy, fragrant smoke is billowing into the evening sky.
“I’ll figure it out, Drake. I’ll figure something out.”
“You got hella cash saved, and it’s for you. Your life. Don’t blow it on him.”
I nod. “I won’t.”
He turns back to the grill. “You seen Berkeley since you two went out?”
There it is. A stab of longing in my gut so sharp, I glance down expecting to see blood. I’ve managed to go all week without speaking her name, but Drake was about to ruin that.
“Nah.” Even though my answer is neutral, the pang in my chest is anything but.
“She wasn’t all she was cracked up to be once you got her alone?” He flips the steaks.
I suck in a breath. I’m pretty damn sure she’s more than I imagine her to be. Judging from one kiss, she’s fucking lethal. A kind of lethal I’ve never dealt with. Berkeley isn’t in my wheelhouse.
I haven’t been able to decide what I’m going to do about her. There’s no way in hell I’m just going to let her write me off after what happened in my truck when we got drenched. I don’t know what she meant by “not available,” but that kiss said it all. I need more of Berkeley. And I’m not going to let her brush me off that easily. Not when I don’t even know the real reason.
The E.V.S. Recovery mission begins tomorrow. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that evil vixen siren just walk away from me.
When I start awake, golden sunlight is streaming in through my window and my sheets are twisted and sticking to me. I half-crawl, half-slide over to the window to peek through the blinds. The ocean greets me a mere football field away, lapping gently against the shore, and I gape in disbelief. Then my mind begins to clear, and I realize I’m in Lone Sands.
My time in Africa haunts me. But only in my dreams. I’ve conquered the beast during the daytime, but I can’t seem to control my nightmares. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories to fade, and I suck air in through my nose, then push it out through my mouth.
I plant my feet on the floor and let my head fall into my hands. When I feel calm enough to rise, I pad barefoot, only wearing the boxer briefs I sleep in, across the hall to the bathroom where I take a piss and wash my face. My eyes are bloodshot when I glance at my reflection, and I realize that it’s going to take more than a rinse to wash away the stink of my demons.
I pull on a pair of workout shorts and head to the garage, where Drake has a gym set up. I tape my hands and pull on a pair of boxing gloves.
Then I proceed to pummel the shit out of a heavy bag, punching it as hard as I can until my breath comes in heavy gasps and sweat pours off my body.
An hour on the bag, thirty minutes lifting free weights, and I’m good to go.
I’ve never been a trusting person. Growing up in foster care after losing both your parents in a car accident at the age of seven will do that to a kid. But after what happened to me behind enemy lines in a continent where I had no friends, aside from the men I lost and the ones I couldn’t make it back to, that almost broke me. It leveled my body and murdered my spirit. I clawed my way out, but only a shell of the Dare I used to be returned from that hellhole.
And the tiny amount of trust I’d built with the army?
Gone.
So I don’t know why I’ve decided to pursue Berkeley, a girl I’ve met a handful of times and been on one date with. Something about her just soothes my soul. And a soul like mine needs a salve.
Somehow, I know I can’t trust her not to reach into my chest, pull out my heart, and crush it in her fists.
But I can’t walk away.
An hour later, I push open the door to See Food. Freshly showered but not shaved, I smile at the lady who I’ve gathered owns the place, and she comes rushing forward.
“Table for one, sweet thing?”
I give her a grin, nodding. “Thanks.”
“I take it you’d like to sit in Berkeley’s section?”
Nodding again, I wink at her. “Am I that transparent?”
She tucks a strand of her short, black hair behind her ear and nods. “As a window.”
She seats me and leaves, and I wait while my heart thumps forcefully against my ribs.
I see her before she sees me, coming around the corner from the kitchen, her arms laden with plates for one of her tables. My eyes stay locked on her perfect form as she carefully maneuvers around the restaurant until she’s just five tables away. She still hasn’t seen me, so I have time to thank God for creating cutoff jean shorts that show me every delicious, curvy inch of Berkeley’s legs, and to marvel at the fact that I know what her full, strawberry-colored lips taste like.
She smells like roses, but she tastes like tangy, sweet marmalade.
When she finishes delivering her food, she turns to my table, to me, and freezes. Then she straightens, pulls the stunned look from her expression, and walks casually over to my table.
I smile up at her. “Hey, Berkeley. How’s the shrimp today?”
Her eyes narrow. “Fancy seeing you here, Dare.”
I thought this would be difficult, but now I can see that it’s just gonna be fun. “I’m eating. Isn’t this still a restaurant?”
She shifts, calling attention to her legs again, and my eyes betray me as they leave her face to trail over her body. Fuck, her See Food shirt today is a ribbed tank with a picture of a crab on the front. The tight fabric accentuates her generous rack, sitting high on her chest as if on display. I swallow.
“Yeah, but why this restaurant?”
“Because you’re here,” I say simply.
Her lips part, but no words escape, and I turn my attention to my closed menu. “You already know what I want, right?”
I’m aware this statement has two possible meanings, and I wonder which of them she’ll answer.
She glances at the door to the kitchen, like she’s considering dumping my table onto someone else. But since the only other waitress I see running around is her boss, I doubt it’ll happen. Her gaze shifts back to mine, and I hold it, hoping she can read my intentions in my eyes.
I’m here for you, Berkeley. Only you.
She sighs. “Okay. I’ll bring you your usual.”
As she turns, I reach out and grab her arm. She stiffens, turning to face me. “No Killian’s. It’s kinda early. Just bring me a sweet tea.”
She nods and walks away. I smile.
When she returns with my drink, her boss is on her heels. “Break time, Berk.”
She whirls, a glare on her face. “But I just—”
The lady, who has a bouquet of flowers in her future from a grateful ex-Ranger, shakes her head. “Sit. Have lunch with your friend. I got it covered, and Daniella will be here any minute.”
Berkeley glances between her boss, and me and blows the stray piece of hair I’ve grown to love so much out of her face. “Fine. Have Boozer make me a crab cake. Thanks, Lenny.”
Yeah, thanks, Lenny.
She sits down across from me, her mouth set in a stubborn line.
“Lucky turn of events,” I offer.
She holds her angry stare for about another five seconds before it crumbles, and she bursts into laughter. It’s infectious, and I’m laughing, too.
“How’d you pull that off?”
I shrug, eyeing the dark shadows beneath her eyes with a frown. She hasn’t been sleeping?
“Maybe I’ve picked up a little of your siren magic.”
She leans forward, placing her elbows on the table, and giving me a clear shot at her cleavage, which I take advantage of. When I meet her eyes again, she’s staring at me with a mixture of frustration and curiosity.
“I thought I made it clear last week. I thought you got the message, since I haven’t seen you since.”
“You haven’t seen me since because I’ve been strategizing. I didn’t get any message, other than when we kiss, the whole fucking world stops moving. So we shouldn’t stop kissing. We should kiss more.”
Her eyes drop to my lips, and I go instantly hard in my jeans.
She does that to me with a look.
Sexy siren indeed.
“So, what? You’re just going to keep coming in here until I kiss you again?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She shakes her head, and I change the subject.
“You haven’t been sleeping well. Is something stressing you out?”
The bluntness takes Berkeley aback, her eyebrows twitch in surprise. “How did you know—”
I just wait, toying with the straw on my tea while I read her face.
Finally, she sighs. “My parents want me to move out to San Diego. My dad’s a pretty powerful guy, and he’s making all kinds of arrangements without my consent.”
My chest clenches as my heartbeat kicks up. “Why would he do that?”
She hesitates, averting her eyes. “I told you I’m not available, didn’t I? My life is…complicated.”
“If you don’t want to go, you just don’t go. That’s pretty simple.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “That would be pretty simple, except you don’t know my father.”
That’s true, I don’t know her father. Right now, I’d really like to meet him, though. Because it’s really, really crazy, but I don’t want her to go.
It must show on my face, because hers softens. “I’ll think of something.”
My lip twitches, and my chest expands.
Suddenly, she reaches for my arm across the table. “I’ve been dying to read this.”
I glance down, and her fingertips are burning into my tattooed arm. The heat spreads, traveling through the limb and beyond. “Go ahead.”