by Robin Hill
“I need to sit down.” I don’t realize I’ve spoken out loud until we’re climbing the steps to a loading dock.
We sit on the edge, in front of an old warehouse with graffitied sheets of plywood covering the windows.
“I woke up that morning in your bed, and I knew. I didn’t want to be anywhere else, but I needed to be…somewhere, anywhere…else. I guess I just panicked.” Darian turns his body toward mine, my hand sandwiched between both of his. “I never meant to bail on you. It wasn’t something I planned. It just…happened. Riley found me at the hotel bar and got me back to my room.”
I pull my hand free and play with the buttons on my sweater. “I heard your voice when I got back. I almost knocked.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see me like that. I was a mess.” He leans forward, his elbows propped on his knees, his head lowered. “I loved my wife, and I made a promise the day I married her, one I vowed to keep even after her death. My feelings for you were a direct betrayal of that promise…at least, that’s how I saw it at the time.”
My breath hardens in my lungs. “Do you see it that way now?”
“No,” he says, turning his gaze to me. “I still have guilt. I think I’ll always have guilt. But I understand she’s gone, and no matter what I do, I can’t stay away from you. And I…can’t change how I feel about you.
“When I woke up that next morning, I knew what I’d done, but I didn’t know to what extent. I had no idea they’d put you on that stage. I figured you’d be pissed at me—angry but not embarrassed. Please believe me, Francesca. If I had known…”
“I believe you. But I wasn’t just embarrassed; I was hurt.”
“I know that now, but then…”
Darian’s words are lost in a rush of voices spilling out of a nearby bar. When the noise tapers, I hop down from the loading dock and stand in front of him with my hands on his knees.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, looking up at him. “I forgive you, Darian. For all of it.”
He nods once, a swallow bobbing in his throat, as he pushes off the dock and gathers me in his arms. “Thank you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes. For just a moment, nothing stands between us.
There’s no yesterday, no tomorrow. I get to be in the present.
But unlike Darian, I don’t want to stay in the present. I want tomorrow too.
I pull away. “We should probably get back.”
He nods again and takes my hand. We walk to our hotel in silence, neither of us saying a word until we’re standing in front of my door.
“This is me,” I say stupidly.
Darian smiles. “So it is.”
“Look, I want to ask you in, but…”
“It’s okay. You’re not ready, and to be honest, I’m not sure I am either.”
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
“I know.” He squeezes my hand a final time, then lets it go. “I am too.”
I pull my lip between my teeth as I dig my key card out of my back pocket. “What time should I be ready in the morning?”
“Ten. I have a thing I need to take care of, but I’ll be back by then.”
“What kind of thing?”
“A work thing. It won’t take long.” He shuffles his feet. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I say, the key cutting into my palm.
“Okay.”
“Well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Neither of us turns for our doors. Our feet stay grounded, eyes locked.
A quiet laugh rumbles from Darian’s chest and he runs a hand through his hair. “This is fucking killing me.”
He takes a step forward, closing the small gap between us. My back presses against the door; his chest presses against me.
“Tell me not to kiss you.” He watches me, stares at me. Then his eyes fall closed and his long fingers slide into my hair. “Tell me, Francesca, and I swear I’ll go.”
I don’t say anything. I refuse. I bury my voice deep inside me. I’m scared if I try to speak the wrong words will come out—Don’t kiss me, Darian. Fear rules my heart the way guilt rules his, and I’ll be damned if I let it take this moment from me. I want him to kiss me. I need him to.
“Kiss me, Darian.”
He bends slightly until his forehead touches mine and then holds it there. “Francesca.”
The whisper finds my mouth before his lips do. I inhale my name as my arms ring around his neck. I pull him closer.
The kiss is soft, reverent. Our lips brush together, opening, closing. I part mine just enough to encourage him, and then I feel his tongue sweep into my mouth. I feel him in every nerve. Every cell. He kisses me like he can’t believe I’m letting him, like maybe I’ll ask him to stop. I won’t stop him.
I can’t stop him.
And when I feel his movements slow, his body pulling back, I ache. I ache for a loss that hasn’t even happened yet. He could kiss me forever and it wouldn’t be long enough. I don’t want it to end, but I need it to end.
“I love you,” he says.
I taste the words more than hear them. He touches his lips to my forehead, then turns and walks away.
I go to bed with Darian’s kiss wrapped around me like a blanket. I didn’t have a sip of wine, but I feel its warmth. As the hours press on, my euphoric buzz melts into trepidation that keeps me up most of the night.
Where do we go from here?
The question I’ve been avoiding haunts me until the early morning hours. I finally give up and watch the sunrise on the terrace while contemplating its answer.
Nowhere. He lives in Miami and you live here.
Darian picks me up in front of the hotel just before ten a.m. My stomach growls as I buckle myself into his car. He shifts into drive and gives me an apologetic look as he veers onto the street.
“You’re hungry,” he says as we slow to a stop at the light. “I ordered breakfast, but maybe I should have sent up room service again.”
“I’m a big girl. I could have grabbed something if I wanted.” I take a sip of my Diet Coke, nearly choking on it when his words register. “What do you mean you ordered breakfast? Where are we going?”
His fingers dance across the wheel. “It’s a surprise.”
Darian’s wearing a suit, and I’m in a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a Keep Austin Weird T-shirt.
“I’m not really dressed to dine with the likes of you,” I say, arching my brows at him. “Couldn’t we just hit up Whataburger on the way home?”
“I promise you’re fine. It’ll just be the two of us.”
“Okay, so like a picnic.”
He tilts his head from side to side. “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”
The drive is short and within minutes we’re pulling up to the curb in front of a high-rise. Darian puts the car in park and cuts the engine.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, I lift my gaze to the building we’re standing in front of. It’s so tall I have to crane my neck just to see the top of it. Covered in reflective glass, it’s like one giant mirror, and at this early hour, the glare is blinding.
I squint, turning away from it to face Darian as he rounds the front of the car. “Where are we?”
His smile is as brilliant as the sun. He doesn’t answer, but wherever we are, he’s excited to be here.
“We’re having a picnic in an office building?”
He holds his hand out to me. “Come on.”
We enter a lobby where we’re greeted by a twenty-something receptionist with short, spiky blue hair and dark burgundy lips. She’s dressed in a semi-conservative business suit that only partially covers the music-staff tattoo vining around her leg.
“Welcome back, Mr. Fox,” she says before turning to me. “Welcome, Ms. Valentine.”
“Francesca, this is Ms. Carlisle.”
I shake her hand. For such a tiny little thing, she has a scary-fi
rm grip. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She turns back to Darian. “Mr. Fox, your food should be here in about thirty minutes. If there’s anything else I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Darian’s grip tightens around my hand as he pulls me to the bank of elevators in the back of the lobby. He presses a button and then brings me in front of him, slipping his arms around my waist. I melt against him. Aside from last night’s kiss, this is the closest we’ve been in days.
And who knows how long it will last?
The elevator doors slide open and we step inside. Darian flashes a key card in front of the digital reader on the control panel, and as soon as the doors close we begin to rise.
“Is this where your meeting was?” I ask, arms crossed as I lean back against the mirrored wall.
He shrugs out of his suit coat. “It was.”
“Is it…over?”
“It’s over.”
“Then why are we eating here?”
Darian’s mouth twitches as he rolls up his sleeves. “I like the view.”
“You’re up to something,” I say and then take a sip of my soda.
“And you’re paranoid.”
I don’t care where we eat—or what for that matter—but every place he’s taken me since we rolled into Austin has been intentional. He’s definitely up to something.
The elevator stops on the fifty-sixth floor and the doors slide open to a second smaller lobby. It’s a little run-down, and except for a dated desk and a pair of rolling chairs, it’s empty.
“Where are we?” I ask a second time, but I let my question go as I take in the room. The carpet is clean but worn and the paint could use some attention. A sign hanging on the opposite wall reads E.B. Brent & Company, and to my right are floor-to-ceiling windows, which capture the view Darian mentioned. I stand in front of it, my eyes sweeping over the eclectic mix of buildings set in the Texas hills.
“Nice, right?” Darian says.
“The view? Definitely. But the rest looks…abandoned. Who were you meeting? A drug dealer?”
Darian laughs. “Come on. It’s not so bad. And I don’t typically get to pick where meetings are held outside of Miami.” He slides his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall beside the elevator. “Why do you care so much?”
I set my can on the desk. “Keeps my mind off my growling stomach,” I say with a shrug. “So what did you order?”
“Something I promised you.”
“Hmm…” I sit backward in one of the chairs, my legs folded on the seat. “Wait, are we having burgers for breakfast?”
Darian nods. “And waffles.”
A huge smile spreads over my lips. “Oh my God, Darian. You remembered.”
“I remember everything you tell me,” he says, taking the empty chair beside me.
Heat builds in my chest and climbs to my cheeks. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from grinning. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Grabbing the edge of the desk, I turn myself to face the window. The sky is a soft baby blue, dotted with cotton-ball clouds, the city where we began stretched beneath it. My face soaks up the little bit of sun that manages to penetrate the tinted glass while my eyes soak up the view.
“You’ve got to admit,” Darian says, “a place like this? It’s all about the view.”
“I know, and I was teasing. This place is great.” I slowly spin in my chair, my eyes trailing around the room before returning to the window. “It’s just a shame they let it go. All it needs is a little TLC.”
“Some new furniture,” he says. “Carpet.”
I reach for my Diet Coke and take a sip, my gaze lingering on the wall behind the desk. “Paint.”
“Agreed. Paint’s a must.” Darian rolls his chair closer to mine and leans forward, his lips hovering at my ear. “So do you think you could help me?” he says. “I could hire somebody but—”
“Help you?” I jerk back to look at him, my soda splashing over the rim of the can. “Oh, wow…Darian…did you buy this place? Was your meeting with a realtor?”
He shrugs and a grin breaks across his face. “Welcome to Fox Independent’s Austin branch.”
“That’s so great! When did you decide this?” I set my can on the desk and grab his hands. “And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Amanda and I have been talking about it for a while,” he says, “but I just recently decided to bite the bullet.”
I let go of his hands and straighten in my chair. “How recent?”
“Friday.”
“Darian, is this…” I suck in a breath. “Did you do this for me?”
“No. I did it for me.”
“Thank God.” A nervous laugh bubbles out of me. “The last thing you need to be doing is making business decisions with your…” I jut my chin toward his crotch.
He laughs. “I didn’t. I made it with this.”
My eyes lift to his hand, closed over his heart. I expect a joke. Some corny punch line, but there’s nothing but the unexplainable pull that’s always been between us. I’m powerless against it.
A thoughtful look settles on his face. “I don’t want you to freak out. An expansion was going to happen sooner or later.”
I should be freaking out, shouldn’t I? But I’m not. I’m too damn happy. He wants tomorrow too.
Darian leans forward, piercing me with his olive gaze. “I’m really excited about this. It’s about time we had an Austin presence, and just because you inspired me to do it sooner rather than later doesn’t mean it was a bad move. I know what I’m doing. I promise.”
“I believe you,” I say. “I just don’t want you to jump into something you haven’t thought through.”
I don’t want you to make a mistake because of me.
“I’ve thought it through. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Darian’s face brightens, his pensive expression falling away. “So? What do you think?”
“I think it’s great. I’m so proud of you, and…”
“And?”
I can’t help but grin. “And it means you’ll be in Texas more.”
He sits back in his chair, his eyes searching mine as if he’s looking for answers to questions he’s yet to ask.
I know the feeling.
“Actually,” Darian says, smiling tightly, “I’m hoping it means you’ll be in Texas more.”
Me?
My eyes narrow. “I don’t understand.”
“Francesca…” He reaches for my hand. “I have a proposition for you.”
To Be Continued…
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Some books take a village. This one took a universe.
First, I want to thank the pros that turned my jumbled mess into something resembling a book. To Jovana, my editor and formatter; to Rach, my meticulous proofreader; to Robin, my very patient cover designer; and to Marianna, who painted said cover. Marianna, this painting is the number one reason I chose to self-publish. I might have been willing to compromise on some things, but my cover was never one of them.
To Steve, AKA SID, AKA my first beta. Sometimes I go back and glance at those initial pages I sent you and cringe. You must love me A LOT. Thank you for enduring the torture and for guiding me with grace.
To my first betas: Amanda, Emma G., Frederique, Beth, Crystal, Leama, and Lili. You guys are badass. So much has changed (including the genre), but the central story is still there. Your input really helped shape it into what it is today. Thank you so much for hanging in there with me.
To my final betas: Jennifer, Josiane, Lisa, and Nadine. Thank you for your honesty, encouragement, and excitement, and for giving me as much peace of mind as possible at this stage. I desperately needed all of it.
To Dee for being my go-to Miami guru. Thank you for answering all my questions—even during your vacation—and offering insight I didn’t even think to ask.
To Ally for killing off eighty-eight in
nocent characters when you suggested a plane crash. Killer piece of advice. Literally.
To Jeannine for lighting a fire under my ass. You gave me the push I needed when I was at a standstill and advice at the end that helped me wrap everything up. I admire you as a writer and as a person, and I’m so happy I got to know you last year. Anytime you need a roommate, I’m your girl.
To Donna for keeping me sane. You may not know this, but your enthusiasm and encouragement got me through some trying days. I’ll have a case of PG ready when you visit. I may even share it with you. **inserts our gif here**
To Heather B. for stepping in when you did. Your advice got me out of a horrible rut. You’ve been an awesome support and a great friend. I love our new CP relationship, although I feel like you may be getting the short end of the stick.
To my FB group, Books, Boys, and Booze. You guys have been amazing, and if it wasn’t for FB being a butt, I wouldn’t have you. I never intended to start a group so early—I never intended to start a group at all—but it seemed like the best (and potentially only) way to keep in contact with my favorite peeps. Not only did you step in and support me, you made this release more than I ever thought it could be. We’re just a big bunch of book-lovin’, boy-crazy procrastinators, and I love “wasting” time with you. ♥
To everyone who pushed this book, especially these repeat offenders: S. Ann, Sarah, Heather R., Irene, Paige, Nicky, Billy, Lynn, Deanna PinkLady, Malene with Bad & Dirty Books, Nadine with Let’s Chat Books, Jessica with Chatterbooks Book Blog, Vanilla & Spice Books, and Biblio Belles. Thank you for your continued support and for all the posts, shares, retweets, comments, likes, emails, beta-reads, and that one crazy AF autograph request. ;-)
To Maryse for so many things. Your blog has truly been a home away from home, a place I can go and just be R. When I first found you, I bought and read almost every five-star book you’d reviewed. Then I went through your four stars. It wasn’t until I’d exhausted that list that I decided to write my own. You rekindled my love of reading (which gave me the desire to write), but even more than that, you introduced me to these crazies: Fabi, Nay, Ela, Grey, Leslie, Tessa, Anna, Amy, Paula, Jan, Jean, Tasha, Melinda, Michelle, Lisa, bev, D.G., Cheryl, and Kooloo. Thank you all so much for your support and friendship over the past two years and for teaching me more about this industry than I ever could have learned otherwise. I adore all of you and I respect your opinions. Even when you’re wrong. :-P