“I have all the time in the world,” he said. “And I’m not in a hurry to get there.”
He kissed me again, his lips so gentle against mine it almost made me cry. How could one man be so very different than another? How could one hurt me and the other heal me? How could the gentleness and humaneness that Dane possessed be so deficient in Nate?
I kissed him back, relishing in his warmth and his tenderness, hoping my kiss was expressing emotions that my words weren’t ready to say just yet.
Chapter 39
DANE
Bathed in moonlight and stardust, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I’d visited the Peace Garden in Lincoln Park countless times over the years, and yet I knew that I’d never forget the first time I brought Samantha there.
Her eyes lit up at the view, the same way they’d sparkled when the Cubs slid into home base earlier. There was just something about showing these things to fresh eyes that reminded me how amazing they were.
Before Samantha, they were just a part of my day to day life. A place to jog. A place to go to pass the time. A place to listen to music, or have a beer.
Now, all my favorite places became a place to get to know Samantha better. Everything was more colorful now.
I found myself distracted at work with thoughts of her. Oddly, I found myself thinking about things I wanted to do with her, instead of things I wanted to do to her.
She was sporting a sexy body under all the baggy clothes she wore, but that wasn’t what had drawn me to her. Her eyes told stories. Her words — the ones she didn’t say — told me stories, too. When she admitted she’d been hurt while we sat in the garden, a surge of protectiveness shot through me.
She was an amazing, beautiful, kind woman. To think that someone may have mistreated her enraged me, making me want to see to it that it never happened again.
But she was right. I may be able to make sure she doesn’t get hurt again, but I couldn’t change the past. The healing would have to come from her.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t show her kindness now.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t treat her with the respect she so deserved.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t gently do my part to make her life joyful, to make her body sing with happiness.
The close proximity of her body had left me yearning to make love to her all night. The kiss we exchanged at the car after the game had left me shaking with desire for her. But I knew it was too early, not just too early in the evening, but most likely, too early in our relationship, for things to progress from anything more than kissing.
I didn’t mind waiting.
Like I said, she was worth it all.
I couldn’t believe sometimes how I was feeling about Samantha. I’d not opened my heart up to anyone since I’d lost Loren. Hell, I hadn’t even talked to anyone about her, except my therapist right after she’d died.
But here was Samantha, sitting next to me on my couch, after one of the best nights of my life, her eyes wide and open, and somehow finding the strength to show me little glimpses into her pain.
Maybe it was time for me now.
Maybe five years was enough time for me to mourn Loren.
Maybe Loren’s ghost was sick of me obsessing over her and she sent me Samantha. You never know.
After we left the park, I’d invited Samantha back to my place for a nightcap and I was surprised to see her eagerly agree. Maybe she was ready for more than I thought, but I wasn’t about to push it.
“I feel like I should confide something to you,” I said, as she took a sip of merlot from her glass.
“I’m all ears,” she said, beaming over at me. God, she was so beautiful, it made my heart ache.
“Five years ago,” I began. “I met someone. It was short-lived and completely unethical, but it was the strongest I’ve ever felt for someone.”
“A patient?” she asked, lifting a brow.
“Unfortunately, yes,” I admitted. “It was the only time I’ve ever crossed that line. And I tried like hell to resist, but my efforts failed.”
“I see,” she nodded, looking at me curiously. “Why do I feel like there’s more to this story?”
“There is,” I admitted. “Loren needed a kidney. She was very sick. Very sick. I tried to save her. I tried not to fall in love with her. We shared our feelings for each other with nobody.”
“That sounds difficult,” she replied.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through,” I said. “And I couldn’t save her. I lost her.”
My heart swelled with pain. Samantha’s eyes filled with empathy and she squeezed my hand, shaking her head.
“I’m so sorry, Dane,” she whispered.
“I’ve never told anyone, except my therapist.”
“Nobody?” she asked. “Why not?”
“Because I could lose my license, one. But also, because I feel like I failed Loren. Maybe if I’d not fallen in love with her, I would have been able to save her. To this day, I don’t know if my feelings for her clouded my judgement or caused me to miss something.”
She nodded slowly, before replying.
“I imagine you’ve thought about this a million times since then.”
“Of course.”
“And I imagine that you’ve scrutinized every single detail of how you treated her.”
“You have no idea,” I admitted.
She nodded again, smiling gently at me.
“And what did you discover? Did you miss something? Did you treat her any differently than you would have treated any other patient?”
“No,” I said, taking a deep breath and shaking my head. “I haven’t.”
“And so for five years, you’ve been analyzing this one case.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to forgive yourself? Or, to see you have nothing that needs forgiveness? I imagine you probably treated Loren with even more diligence and detail than you would others, not less, not just because you had feelings for her. I think you need to give yourself a break from all of that self-doubt. You’ve been beating yourself up for a long time.”
I looked over at her with a rush of love.
“Thank you for saying that,” I said, brushing my lips against hers gently. “You’re really a kind person, aren’t you?”
“I try,” she smiled.
I pulled her into my arms. “Thank you for listening. I feel better having told you.”
“Why haven’t you talked to anyone else about it?”
“I didn’t trust anyone,” I replied, my voice low and serious. “Not till now. I trust you.” I kissed her again, deeper this time, the warmth of her mouth tempting me to continue kissing her all night long.
Chapter 40
SAMANTHA
“I trust you,” Dane said, before he kissed me again. I melted into his embrace, his words echoing through my head and sending pangs of guilt through my heart that I desperately tried to ignore.
He trusted me to talk about someone he’d not talked about in five years.
And I was lying about everything, right down to my very name.
I wanted to ignore all this guilt. I wanted to push it away, push it deep down inside of me so that I could deal with it later, and just lose myself in his kisses right now, but I knew I couldn’t do that.
Not another second.
I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away gently.
His kind eyes searched mine for an explanation and I struggled to begin speaking the words I needed to get out if I was ever going to live with myself.
“I need to tell you something, too,” I whispered. He nodded at the serious tone in my voice, sitting back slightly and allowing me the space to talk.
“Sure,” he said.
“I’m not…I haven’t…I don’t know how to say this,” I said, my heart racing in my chest. I couldn’t tell him the truth, not completely, I knew that. But I needed to explain…something. “I kind of fled a bad situation. I was in
an abusive relationship.”
Good, that was true.
That felt good.
“I was in a relationship with someone…someone I needed to get away from suddenly. I moved away to start over. To be safe.”
“So, this someone hurt you? Physically?” he asked, his eyes darkening.
“Yes,” I admitted, lifting my chin. I wasn’t ashamed of what Nate had done to me. I knew it wasn’t my fault. I would never blame myself for his abuse.
“I’m assuming calling the police was out of the question, for whatever reason?”
“You assume correctly,” I said. “They never would have believed me. And they certainly wouldn’t have helped me.”
“I’ve seen that time and time again, it’s maddening.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Look, Dane, I just…I hate feeling like I’m not being honest with you, so I wanted to tell you a little more. But I’m trying. Trying to heal, like I said earlier. And part of that healing means figuring out who I can trust. I feel like I can trust you. And you can trust me. Thank you for telling me what happened with Loren.”
“Thank you for telling me what happened to you.”
His smile was so sweet and understanding. He reached out, caressing my cheek as I leaned into the warmth of his palm. He leaned down and kissed me again, and again and again, until the spark between us slowly and steadily ignited a fiery inferno of desire between us.
His kiss deepened, his tongue delving in and tangling with mine as I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, wanting to feel his touch all over me all at once. He moved to hover over me and I wrapped my thighs around him, his hardness hitting my center and causing me to gasp.
He broke the kiss, staring down at me, his hardness pressing against me. I peered up into his eyes, the hunger undeniable. He hesitated, a question beginning to form on his lips.
I reached up and placed a fingertip on them, shaking my head. “Shhh,” I hissed, pressing my hips up towards his heat.
“Oh, love,” he murmured, before his mouth found mine again. I opened my thighs wider then pulled him closer.
I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t have any words.
I just wanted to feel.
I just wanted to forget.
I just wanted to escape everything but what was happening in this room and pretend all my worries never existed in the first place.
I didn’t want to hear my fake name fall off of his lips.
I wanted moans and growls and thrusts and fingernails scraping along skin.
And Dane knew exactly what I needed, and right now, in this moment, that made him the most beautiful creature in the world to me.
For the next few hours, we lost ourselves in fingertips dancing over rippling flesh, a flash of surprise flickering in a fluttering eye, hair and lips and flushed skin. His softness left me quivering and yearning for more.
Our whispers wafting into the darkness of the night…oh god, yes there, harder, softer, more, more, oh baby yes, baby, baby, baby, god yes…turned into a song with never-ending, breathtaking lyrics that etched themselves into my soul.
His kisses trailed over my skin, tasting every inch and crevice, his hands exploring every curve of my body as I writhed against him, the slip and slide of his hardness rocking into me, retreating and reconnecting, repeat, repeat, repeat…
Hours later, crashing into blissful wave after wave of pleasure, we lay in each other’s arms, with no end, no beginning, just one body, breathing together, existing together, loving together.
Dane kissed my forehead as I drifted off to sleep on his shoulder, our limbs tangled, our fingers intertwined, our souls woven together in the sweetest embrace.
Chapter 41
NATE
“I don’t understand why this show has to be so fucking early,” I bitched. Sophia didn’t look up from her phone as she replied.
“It’s called The Morning Show,” she muttered.
“I fucking know that, Sophia! Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” I growled.
“No, of course not, Nate,” she replied. “It’s just…kind of the nature of the show.”
“Well, yeah, but why do I have to be there at fucking five in the morning?” I said. “Forget it, don’t fucking answer me.”
Looking out the airplane window, I watched the clouds floating outside, the sun rising in the distance. You could see the rays of orange and pink shooting through the sky, and if I wasn’t so tired and hung-over, I may have enjoyed it.
But I didn’t enjoy a goddamned thing these days.
And trust me, I’d been trying to find things to enjoy.
I consumed enough booze and drugs and decadent food the last few months to kill a fucking horse and the amount of pussy I’ve torn through would make any man envious. And still, I couldn’t stop thinking about Dove.
How could she have left me?
I looked around my plane, taking in the gilded trim and butter-soft leather seats, the full bar, the bed in the back. I thought about all the fucking money I had in the bank. My properties. My cars. My clothes and stocks and jewelry and fuck — my fame!
How could she let all that go?
Because she was fucking stupid. That was the only excuse I could come up with. Any woman in her right mind would beg to be here by my side.
What a fool, I thought, as the plane began descending. I could see the skyline of Chicago in the distance and my stomach turned.
I fucking hated Chicago.
It was dirty and loud and crowded, and full of memories.
When Mom got sick, not long after my career took off, we’d found the best doctors we could, which ended up being here. Dad and I spent many nights by her bedside looking out the window at this same skyline I was seeing now. After she died, our relationship became strained and superficial, neither of us willing to do the work to explore why and just letting things fade into yearly visits and occasional phone calls.
I winced in pain as the plane hit some turbulence going down, my side pinching and cramping. Sophia noticed and looked over at me with a raised eyebrow.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I muttered, with a dismissive wave.
“You’ve gotta take better care of yourself, Nate,” she said.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Sophia,” I said, rolling my eyes. I looked over at Rocco sitting across the aisle from me, his nose in his phone.
“Hey, Rocco, any word from the PI?” I’d found the most expensive private investigator I could find and I knew he’d find Dove soon.
“No, Boss,” he said. “Not yet.”
“Goddammit,” I replied, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I pulled up Instagram and starting scrolling through aimlessly, ignoring the pain in my side. It was probably gas or something. I hadn’t been eating very well, indulging in things I shouldn’t have been, and my body was reminding me that I wasn’t as immortal as I wanted to be.
Fuck that, I thought. I’m not letting up anytime soon. That’s what insulin and good doctors are for. I’m fucking Nate Nash. I’m not about to go down anytime soon. I just needed another drink.
I paused in my scrolling, a familiar face staring back at me on the Dogs of Instagram post that I’d followed to impress Dove.
“No fucking way,” I said, reading the caption on the photo.
It could have been her. But it may not be, either. After all, they all kind of looked alike. But then, I read the hashtags and my heart started racing. I jumped up from my seat with excitement and showed my phone to Rocco.
“I found her!” I shouted.
“You did?” Rocco asked, cocking his head to the side in surprise. “You found Dove?’
“No!” I cried. “I found Gigi! Look!”
I showed him the post and he nodded slowly, as he read the caption aloud, his low, gruff voice filling the cabin. “St. Bernards do it best! Hashtag St. Bernards, hashtag Dogs of Instagram, hashtag Gigi, hashtag Beer, Bernards and Beards.”
“See?!”
“Well, Boss, this is promising, but we don’t know that’s really her.”
“Fuck you, Rocco! It’s her, I can tell! And it says Gigi! As soon as we land, I want you to send this to the PI, okay?”
“Sure, Boss,” he agreed. “Whatever you want.”
“I fucking want Little Bird back, that’s what I want!” I shouted.
My heart pounded in my chest. Exhilaration filled my veins.
Soon, I’d have her right back in my cage where she belonged.
Chapter 42
SAMANTHA
I awoke in Dane’s bed in a blissful daze.
Hope had somehow wound its way back into my heart somewhere between dusk and dawn and I relished in the feeling as I lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
The connection and chemistry between us was strong and sweet.
It felt mature.
It felt real.
And most of all, it felt safe.
I hadn’t felt safe in a very long time.
Now I realized how much I needed it, just to be able to breathe normally again. I untangled myself from his clinging limbs and left him sleeping in his bed, as I padded to his kitchen.
His house was warm and cozy, with earth-toned blankets and pillows tossed on the couch and dark rugs underfoot with tall, leafy plants lurking in the corners. I made coffee and settled onto his couch and flipped on the television to enjoy it.
I had a shift to work today but Dane had the day off. Soon, I’d have to rush home to shower and change, and feed and walk Gigi before I drove to the hospital, but I wanted to have just a few minutes to myself in Dane’s home first.
I was smitten. The smile was plastered to my face as I snuggled under his blanket, inhaling the soft musky scent of his aftershave which seemed to be on everything. It was spicy and citrusy, all at once, tempting me to raid his bathroom cabinets until I discovered what brand it was so I could buy some for myself and pour it all over me.
We’d spent the night wrapped up in each other, attempting to get as close as humanly possible. If we could have crawled into each other’s bodies, we would have. Our souls mingling would have to suffice, and oh, how sweet it felt.
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