Coward.
Not only is he running away before I could get him in trouble, but he’s also leaving me with my mother, who has a look on her face that I know is trouble.
So far, Sandra Flanigan has been distracted by other things. She’s in a new relationship with Tim Pollard. She’s planning Dom and Cat’s wedding, and she’s got grandbaby fever.
I’ve been able to coast under the radar.
Now, thanks to my idiot brother, I’m front and center. Whether Dominic mentioned Julian inadvertently or not, I'm going to kill him.
“Sit with me for a bit, Dakota,” my mother says.
Yeah, that’s not a request. I pour myself a glass of water and brace myself for the inquisition.
It doesn’t come. “When your father left,” she says instead. “I swore I wouldn’t let something like this happen again. I swore I’d never allow myself to be hurt as badly as he’d hurt me. I excised love from my life. My focus was on the two of you.” She sighs. “It wasn’t until much later that I realized that I was doing the two of you a disservice. I was a terrible role model to you and Dom. Because of me, both you and Dom have spent your adult lives avoiding commitment.”
“Dom's getting married.”
“Despite the odds, yes.” She looks at me. “And then there’s you, Dakota. You're like me. You love deeply, and because of that, you're afraid to love.”
“I don’t…”
She holds up her hand. I shut up. “I mourned your father for a year. Then I started getting angry. What kind of man would walk out on his wife and children without a word? Your father didn’t deserve my love.”
“You’re right about that.”
“And yet, for nineteen years after that that realization, I stayed single. Every time Tim asked me out, I said no. Even when I had my heart attack, and realized that life wasn't going to wait around, I didn’t act. That was how afraid I was.”
I glance at my mother. “What happened this year to change your mind?”
“Tim had a health scare. The doctors found a tumor. For three weeks, I thought I was going to lose him forever, before I had a chance to tell him how I feel about him. I look the wasteland my life would be if Tim wasn't there, and then I realized my fear didn’t matter. We found out it was benign, and I knew I couldn’t waste any more time.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Tim wanted to keep it quiet. He told Elise, but that was it.” She’s quiet for a long minute. “I would never tell you to be with somebody that would cheat on you, or who would treat you with anything other than the utmost respect. But there are also no guarantees in life.”
I nod wordlessly.
“You're an adult, you don’t need your mother to tell you what to do,” she continues. “I’m incredibly proud of everything you’ve achieved in your life, Dakota. You don’t need to be married. You don’t need a husband. You don't need a man to make you happy.” She gives me an intent look. “But if you find somebody that’s worthy of your love, Dakota, then you should take a chance. Because life is precious and fleeting, and I don't want to look back twenty years later and wish you hadn’t wasted your life being afraid.”
I swallow hard. “It’s scary.”
“I know, honey.” She pats my hand. “Trust me, I know. I’ve been there. But not everyone is your father.”
“The entire town talked about us.” I give her a sidelong look. “We were the biggest topic of gossip in Madison.”
“So what?” Sandra asks. “People talked because what your father did was so shocking. They were horrified. Anyway, surely I haven't brought up a daughter who cares about what other people think of her.”
So far, I’ve made Julian do all the work. I’ve let him chase me. I’ve been capricious and coy, and honestly, I’ve been a pain in the ass. It’s a miracle Julian hasn’t told me to fuck off.
It’s time for me to put myself out there.
I get into my car and drive to Julian’s cottage.
There’s a car in the driveway when I get there. He has a guest.
Familiar fear cloaks me. I ran away from him once again this morning. He must be sick of me by now. Has he found a replacement already?
No. With grim determination, I grind my fear into the ground. Julian wouldn’t do that. If he was done with me, he’d tell me. He wouldn’t avoid the difficult conversation.
I get out of the car, walk up to the front, and ring the doorbell. For a couple of minutes, nothing happens. My throat goes dry. I contemplate running away.
Then Julian opens the door. When he sees me, a smile breaks out on his face. “Hey, Dakota.”
The tight knot of fear in my stomach melts away at that smile. “I should have called. You have a guest?”
“It’s just my friend Ward. He was able to get away from work.” His eyes are warm. “It’s really good to see you. Come on in.”
He takes my hand and leads me inside. I look around the cottage. There’s a main living room with high cathedral ceilings, a wrap-around screened in porch, and then a tiered deck that steps to the water. “Wow, this is really nice. Was all of this here?”
“No, I’ve been teaching myself to build stuff.”
Of course he has. Typical Julian King. “Let me guess. You were bored.”
“It was a very long winter,” he grins. “I had to do something to keep myself occupied. I’d have preferred to warm your bed, but…”
“Idiot.”
He laughs. “Beer?”
“I guess I can have one and still drive back.”
“Or you could spend the night.”
He’s still holding my hand. His touch feels warm. Solid. Strong. “I’d like that.”
He caresses my cheek. “Good.” He leans forward and kisses me. “I’m fighting the urge to ignore Ward, drag you upstairs, and make love to you.”
My breath catches. My nipples harden. “That’s a very tempting image, but I want to meet your friend.”
He opens the refrigerator and hands me a beer. “Come on then.”
We head outside. Ward stands up with a smile. “You must be Dakota,” he says, shaking my hand. “Ward Lewington.”
Ward Lewington has broad shoulders, blue eyes, and a very dry wit. “Tell me,” I ask him. “Did Julian go around calling himself the King in Toronto?”
Ward laughs. “Only when he got very drunk.”
I lean forward, fascinated. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Julian even the slightest bit tipsy. “He got drunk?”
“It was a legal tradition,” Julian says, putting his arm around my shoulders. “People bought you shots when you won a case.” He smirks. “I won a lot.”
“And there it is,” Ward rolls his eyes. “The Julian King ego.”
He’s holding me, and it feels really nice. I rest my head on his shoulder, and for a second, I sense I’ve taken him by surprise. Then he smiles, and laces his fingers in mine, and life is good.
“So, Dakota. Julian tells me you’re planning on expanding your restaurant?”
My good mood fades. “If I win the contest.”
“You need a permit even though you already have one?”
“It’s because it’s a separate building,” I explain.
“Could you build a walkway between them?”
I tilt my head to one side, considering it. “I could,” I say thoughtfully. “But it won’t do me much good. I’m licensed for forty seats, and I doubt they’ll increase my capacity. No, I’ll just have to win.” I wink at Julian. “Sorry, King.”
He grins lazily.
“Have your parents visited?” Ward asks Julian.
He stiffens. “No,” he says shortly.
I give Julian a curious look. “They’re not happy that I quit law,” he says. “They think it shows a lack of dedication and perseverance. Only losers quit.”
“Your parents think you’re a loser?” I give him an incredulous laugh. “How the hell do they reach that conclusion? Julian, you’re good at everything.”
Ward groans out loud. “Dakota, what are you doing? Don’t feed his ego.”
I wait for Julian to say something cocky, but he keeps quiet. “Would your parents come down if you make the finals?”
“I don’t know,” he replies, getting to his feet. “Want another beer?”
Huh. His parents are clearly a sensitive topic. I drop it. “Yes, please.”
When the mosquitoes come out in force, we retreat inside. Ward yawns. “I’m wiped,” he announces. “I’m going to bed. Dakota, it was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Likewise.” I really like Ward, but I’m dying to get Julian to myself.
Ward goes upstairs. I glance at Julian. “I have to work tomorrow,” I tell him. “I’ll be getting up really early.”
“You need to leave now?”
I shake my head. “I’m going to disappear before you wake up. But this time, I’m warning you in advance.”
He laughs quietly. “I appreciate it.” He takes the beer from my hand and sets it down on the counter. “Come to bed, Wilde,” he whispers in my ear.
My entire body ignites at the look of heat in his eyes. “Show me what you’ve got, King.”
18
Julian
Last night, we were up until dawn. Over and over, we reached for each other. I had a year of suppressed lust to make up for. It was fast and furious, intense and wild and hot.
Last night, I’d wanted her with a burning desperation that had almost undone me. Tonight, I can take my time. Explore every inch of Dakota’s body. Make her moan for me. Make her whimper.
I undress her slowly. She tugs my shirt over my head and I get rid of my shorts. Her gaze moves over my chest, down my abs, and linger on the bulge that’s tenting my briefs, naked appreciation in her eyes.
Fuck me, that’s hot.
“Like what you see?”
“Mmm. I’d like it even better if you took off the briefs.” The tip of her tongue swipes over her lower lip, and I groan out loud. “I want to suck your cock.”
She’s going to be the death of me.
I pick her up and set her on the bed. “Wrap your fingers around the slats of the headboard, sweetness,” I tell her firmly. “And don’t let go.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll tie you up, and I’ll tease you all night long, and I promise you, you won’t come until sunrise.”
Her eyes flare with heat. She swallows hard and moves her hands over her head, her fingers gripping the headboard. “That sounds… tempting.”
God, she’s perfect. Wet and open for me, naked, beautiful, gloriously uninhabited.
I kiss her, deep and long, our tongues tangling, my hand cupping her breast. I graze her nipple, and she whimpers. “They’re sore today. Go easy on them.”
I prop myself up on an elbow. “Was I too rough yesterday?”
“Hell, no. It was great. It was exactly what I need.”
I suck the swollen nub gently into my mouth. She throws her head back, her hair spreading in glorious waves all over the pillow. “Ah, that’s perfect.”
The raw edge of need in her voice… My cock hardens. I push her breasts together and bend my head over the delectably perky tips, dragging my tongue from one to the other.
She inhales sharply. “Do that again.”
Anything for you, Dakota.
I kiss her neck, her throat, her nipples. I tongue her belly button and she arches toward me, giggling a little. “That’s ticklish.”
I do it again, and she laughs breathlessly, and the sound sends a hot wave of arousal through me. I make my way down her body and spread her legs. She’s wet, so wet. I taste her, my tongue slowly dragging through her pretty pussy, and she groans again. “King,” she whimpers. “What are you doing to me?”
Making her come.
I lap at her clit and pump my fingers in and out of her slick, wet heat. She grips the slats, her back arching with pleasure. “Julian,” she breathes, and the sound of her voice moaning my name is sweet music to my ears.
She’s here. In my bed. Crying out my name. It’s almost unbelievable. It’s the hottest thing in the world. It’s better than any fantasy I’ve ever had.
“I’m coming,” she wails. I suck her swollen clit between my lips and she flails, and she explodes.
Fuck me, that was hot.
I roll a condom on and slide into her. She’s hot and tight and so fucking wet that I almost come right there. I grit my teeth and think the most unsexy thoughts I can, and wait for the urge to explode to pass.
Then I start to thrust. “Yes,” she moans. “Harder.”
I pull back and slam back in. “That hard, sweetness?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, her eyes wild and her breathing ragged. “Just like that.”
I push her legs in the air and stroke into her, over and over. Pleasure envelops me. Every time I hear her moan, I have to claw back from the edge. Every time she clenches her muscles, I grit my teeth in a desperate struggle not to come.
Not yet.
I grip her hips. She gasps, trembles. Her pussy milks my cock. “Fuck,” I swear through clenched teeth. I stroke harder, her muscles quivering around me. Blood pounds in my ears. My fingers dance over her clit. My thrusts aren’t controlled anymore. I see spots in front of me as I move faster and faster.
My world narrows to her, to the feel of her body under me, to the sounds of her moans. Then my body stiffens and, just as her climax overtakes her, I erupt.
Against all odds, Dakota is in my bed.
I want more. I want her in my life.
Now, I have to do what it takes to make that happen.
19
Dakota
Dakota's pizza is normally closed on Mondays, but because this is a long weekend, the rules have gone out of the window.
My alarm goes off at five in the morning. I crawl out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Julian, get dressed, and head downstairs.
The sun hasn’t yet risen. It’s still dark outside. I put on my jacket, and then I hear footsteps on the stairs.
It’s Julian. “Hey,” he says, his eyes still hazy with sleep. “You want a cup of coffee before you head out?”
Coffee sounds amazing. “Go back to bed,” I urge.
Ignoring me, he starts grinding coffee beans. “Ward's a morning person too,” he says, sounding resigned. “He'll be up soon enough.”
“I'm not really a morning person,” I tell him. “Left to myself, I’d lie in bed until ten.”
He flashes me with a grin. “A girl after my own heart.”
Once the coffee’s made, we take out mugs, sit in rocking chairs on the screened-in porch, and watch the sun rise over the lake. The water is so calm that the surface looks like a mirror. The only noise is the chirping of birds. It's astonishingly peaceful. “I love it here,” Julian says, echoing my thoughts.
“Is that why you quit your job?”
“Not exactly. Madison was a happy accident. My grandmother left me the cottage in her will.” He sips his coffee. “Life was passing me by, and I was too busy to realize what I was missing out on. Too busy to even stop to think about what I wanted. I was on the treadmill, and there was no getting off.”
“What happened?”
“A few years ago, my father was diagnosed with testicular cancer. The day he was going in for surgery coincided with the opening date of a big trial for which I was one of the attorneys. It was made pretty clear to me, that if I blew off the trial, I'd never make partner.”
I give him a shocked look. “They can't do that, can they?”
“Officially, no. Informally? Everyone who competes for a partnership is exceedingly well-qualified. Who is to know the real reason they pick one candidate over the other? Anyway. That was the first sign that this wasn’t the right path for me.” His smile is wry. “I thought my parents would encourage me to quit my job, but they both insisted I attend the trial.” He shakes his head. “Priorities.”
When my mother got sick, Do
m had moved back from Toronto. The two of us had adjusted our schedules so that one of us was always with her until she got back on her feet. I can’t imagine how helpless I’d have felt if I hadn’t been able to do that for her.
“The real kicker was that when my father got well again, he went right back to working eighty hours a week. That was all he knew.”
The sky is pink, purple, and gold. The sunrise is glorious. Sitting here, next to Julian, I’m glad I get to share this moment with him. It’s weird that we’re not sniping at each other. Weird, but also really nice.
“When I was in college,” he continues. “I used to have hobbies and interests. Then I started working, and one by one, everything except work fell away. I could see my future, and it looked exactly like my father’s life. I wanted something else. If I’d made partner, I would have never found the courage to leave. I walked away before I got to that crossroad.” He grimaces. “As you probably realized from last night's conversation, it wasn't a popular decision.”
He gives me a sidelong look. “What about you? What made you go into business for yourself? That couldn't have been easy.”
“No, it wasn't, not at the start. There's no deep reason. The only jobs around here are seasonal. If I wanted to stay in Madison, I knew I'd have to go into business for myself, and so I did.” I smile faintly. “I'm probably too opinionated and stubborn to work for somebody else anyway.”
“Really?” His eyes dance with amusement. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Jackass.”
He laughs out loud. “I know this is going to kill you to admit, Dakota, but we’re pretty identical, you and me. We’re both competitive. Neither of us likes to lose. I'm not the only Type-A personality here.”
I give him an indignant look. He just grins. “Fine,” I concede. “I might be a little Type-A.” I drain the rest of my coffee. “And on that note, I better get going. Pizza isn't going to make itself.” I hesitate, and then plunge ahead. “You want to do something later this week?”
“Absolutely,” he says. “I’m swamped on Tuesday. I’ve got deliveries to make, and once I’m done with that, I need to spend a few hours in the kitchen. How about later on this week?”
Sausage King: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Comedy Page 11