"No. I want to hang with you." He slid his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck until she turned her face to catch a hot kiss. "Nice," he murmured.
"It is nice, but I need to finish the dishes."
"Am I distracting you?"
"You know you are."
"Maybe I should do the dishes for you. Win you over. Your mom seems to think that men doing household tasks is just the ticket for that."
"I wouldn't take advice from my mother. She's been single most of my life, and her choices in men have never been the best. I don't think Mark will be an exception."
"She really is taken with him."
"He's definitely her favorite topic of conversation." She paused. "When I was talking to Micah, he mentioned that you're seeing Grayson tomorrow. I didn't realize it was that soon."
"It was supposed to be Thursday, but he had to change it, because he has to be back in Denver that day."
"Are you worried about it?"
"There's nothing I can do, so whatever it is, it is."
"That's very Zen-like."
He made a face at her. "I'm not feeling Zen, but I can't predict what the diagnosis will be, so I just have to wait."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"It's not a problem. I'm hoping for the best, but we'll see. I've only been in rehab for a week, so it may be too early for a definitive answer. If there has been good progress, that will be something I can work from."
"Does it feel like you've made progress?"
"It does, but whether or not I can throw a ninety-mile-an-hour fastball is another story."
"I hope you get good news."
"Thanks. So, I'll see you tomorrow night?"
She grimaced. "I forgot I'm having Hannah and all the bridesmaids to the shop after closing tomorrow. I'm doing final fittings and then we're going to get dinner. I could possibly meet you later. Unless you want to wait and see what Grayson says…"
"No. Whatever he says about my shoulder has nothing to do with us. You can come by as late as you want. I'll be at the inn. And I'll be very prepared this time, so if you can spend the night…"
"I can do that." She smiled and leaned into another long, sexy kiss that made her wish it was already tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dante had an MRI in the morning, followed by his normal rehab session, with a quick break for lunch and then an afternoon workout. It was close to four when he went to meet with his surgeon, Dr. Grayson Cole. Grayson was tall, with dark hair and blue eyes. He wore a white physician's coat over tan slacks and a light-blue shirt. They shook hands, and then Grayson asked him to sit on the exam table.
"How's it going?" Grayson asked.
"That's what I'm here to find out. I assume you spoke to the therapists." He had no time or energy for small talk. He was feeling too tense for that.
"I have spoken to your therapists. I also have the results of your MRI, but before we get into all that, I want to do an examination, so I can make my own assessments."
"I'm ready." He didn't like the fact that Grayson didn't want to give him the results of the MRI. He tried not to make anything of it. Worrying wouldn't change anything.
For the next twenty minutes, Grayson put him through a series of strength, flexibility, and range of motion moves, rotating his shoulder and arm in various directions. It took all of his inner strength not to ask questions during the assessment.
Finally, after Grayson finished making some notes in the chart, he looked back at him. "You're doing well."
"I hope you're going to elaborate."
"The results of your MRI are very good."
"What does that mean? Am I going to be able to pitch again?" It was really the only question he needed answered.
"There's a little more rehab work to be done, but you're on your way to a complete recovery."
"Seriously?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No limitations?"
"No. But I'd like you to finish the week of rehab here. After that, you can go back to Miami and work with your team's PT for several more weeks before you get back into the rotation. I'd aim for an early August return. I know that's still a month away, but I want you to go slow, so there aren't any setbacks. Can you do that?"
"Absolutely. This is great news."
"You've put in the work, Dante."
"Only after you put in the work. Thanks, Doc. You're giving me back my life."
"I'm glad I could help."
"You did more than that." He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he could leave Whisper Lake by the weekend. His excitement ebbed as he realized how much sooner he would have to say goodbye to Keira. His departure date had always loomed over them, but now it was even closer.
"How have you been enjoying Whisper Lake? Is Lizzie treating you right?" Grayson asked.
"This town is amazing, and your sister treats me better than my family."
"She always wanted to run an inn where she could be the hostess all the time."
"She's very good at it. How long are you staying?"
"Just until tomorrow morning. As you know, I had to reschedule a surgery for Thursday, so I can't spend the holiday here as I planned."
"Thanks for coming to check my progress."
"I had some other business as well, and it's always nice to see my siblings. I'm going to have dinner with them tonight." Grayson paused. "I would caution you to continue to be careful with any heavy lifting or extreme sports for another few weeks."
"No worries there."
"All right then. That's it."
"I can't quite believe it."
Grayson smiled. "You'll get there. Take care of yourself. Let me know if you need anything."
"I will. Thanks again." As he left the exam room, he pulled out his phone. He had so many people he wanted to call to share the good news. Keira was at the top of the list. But he hesitated. He didn't want to call or text her to tell her he would be leaving town a week early. They were getting together later tonight. He would tell her then.
However, he could tell Micah. He sent his brother a text as he headed toward the parking garage. When he stepped off the elevator, he was surprised to see Mark and a security guard standing by Mark's car.
As he got closer, he realized that there were long scratch marks on the side of the vehicle as well as the hood.
"What happened?" he asked.
Mark stiffened when he saw him. "Vandalism," he replied.
"Looks like someone keyed your car. Was your vehicle the only one hit?"
"It looks that way."
He glanced around the garage, noting the security camera not too far away. "Did the camera catch who did it?"
"Unfortunately not. But we're in the process of getting a better security gate, so this won't be a problem in the future. I'm sure it was just kids."
And he was equally sure it wasn't a kid at all. It was Mandy. He wanted to challenge Mark, but he and the security guard were already walking toward the entrance to the garage. That question would have to wait.
He got into his rental car, his mood no longer quite as exuberant as it had been. Before he went back to Miami, he needed to help Keira figure out what was going on with Mark.
If Mandy had keyed his car, then who knew what she would do next?
As Keira closed the shop on Monday afternoon, she checked her phone, wondering why she hadn't heard from Dante about his meeting with his doctor. She worried that he'd gotten bad news. Or maybe it was just the opposite: he'd gotten good news, and he didn't want to tell her he was leaving soon. Her gut twisted at that thought. She didn't want him to leave, but she did want him to be healed. Unfortunately, she couldn't have both.
Her phone buzzed, and she jumped to answer it, relieved to see Dante's name flash across her screen.
"Hi," she said. "I've been wondering what's going on. How did it go with Grayson?"
"It was good."
"That's great. I'm so happy for you. Are you happy? I ca
n't tell."
"I'm thrilled. I'm just still trying to believe it's true."
"You can go back to pitching?"
"Not right away, but soon. Grayson thinks I'll make a full recovery. I'll give you the details tonight. We're still meeting up later, right?"
For a split second, she thought maybe she should say no, because every second they spent together was going to leave one more painful memory to deal with. But she couldn't say no, because she needed to see him. "Yes," she said. "It will probably be close to ten."
"I'll be waiting. Have fun with your friends."
"I will. Bye." She let out a breath as she set down her phone. She told herself to be happy for him, but all she could feel was selfish unhappiness that he was leaving, probably sooner than she'd thought. She needed to get over that feeling before she met up with him.
The door to her shop opened, and she immediately put a smile on her face as Hannah, Gianna, and Chloe came through the door.
"I brought wine." Gianna held up a bottle. "Do we need glasses?"
"I have some plastic wine glasses in the back," she replied. The door opened again, and Chelsea and Lizzie walked in. "Looks like we're all here," she said, as she came around the counter and locked the door behind them. Then they headed into the back room.
Hannah filled wine glasses as Keira started with the bridesmaids. She'd tucked Hannah's dress away. She didn't want her to see it until she tried it on.
Happy chatter went on as each one of the women took their turn in front of the mirror. Lizzie's hem needed a minor tweak as she'd decided to wear a different pair of shoes. But Chloe and Gianna's gowns were perfect. Chelsea was the last to try her dress on, and it fit like a glove, although it seemed a bit tighter than she remembered.
Chelsea turned away from the mirror with an odd expression in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "If it's too snug, I can let out a seam. I may have miscalculated."
"You didn't," Chelsea replied. "I wasn't going to say anything because I don't want to take the attention away from Hannah—"
"What are you talking about?" Hannah asked.
Chelsea glanced at Lizzie.
"Just do it," Lizzie urged.
"Oh, my God," Hannah interrupted. "Are you pregnant, Chelsea?"
"Yes!" Chelsea's dazzling smile was incredibly bright. "Almost eight weeks. I didn't think I'd show at all yet."
"That's amazing," Hannah said as she hugged Chelsea. The rest of the women followed, and she was the last.
"I'm so happy for you," she said. "This is great news."
"Brodie and I are thrilled. He's already buying baby stuff. I keep telling him we have plenty of time. We don't even know if it's a boy or a girl yet. And the doctor said I should wait three months to say anything, but I was starting to worry that the dress might not fit and I'd have to give you an excuse, like I ate too many donuts."
She smiled. "The dress looks lovely, but I can let it out if you want."
"I think I'm good. I only have a week to go."
"Well, let me make a small adjustment," she said, eyeing the dress once more. "I'll make the alterations in the morning, and you can try it on tomorrow afternoon."
"I hate to give you more work."
"For a baby, I would remake the entire dress," she said with a laugh, feeling very emotional. She looked over at Lizzie, who was dabbing at her eyes. "You're going to be an aunt."
"I know. I'm so glad Chelsea told you, because I was having trouble keeping it in."
"Is this why you keep changing your wedding plans?" she asked.
"Partly. I do want Chelsea to be in the wedding, so Justin and I are now thinking after she has the baby would be good."
"Whatever you want, Lizzie. I'll waddle down the aisle in a maternity dress for you," Chelsea proclaimed. "Hey, Keira, how are you at designing maternity clothes?"
"Honestly, I've never tried."
"It could be a new market for you," Chelsea said.
"Considering how many of my friends are coupling up, I think you're right." She felt a twinge of what could only be considered more selfish yearning that she hadn’t found her love and wasn't anywhere close to a wedding or a baby. Although it was possible she had found her man, he just wasn't someone she could keep.
"Let's have a toast," Gianna said. She stopped abruptly. "Now, I know why you didn't want any wine earlier, Chelsea."
"Let's wait on the toast until we go to dinner," Chelsea said. "I can toast with sparkling water. But now I'm going to get out of this dress and then Hannah will try on hers. Because that's why we're here."
"Don't worry," Hannah said, giving Chelsea a pointed look. "You're not stealing my thunder."
"Well, still. Let me change."
As Chelsea got out of her gown, Keira helped Hannah on with her wedding dress and then led her to the pedestal in front of the big mirror. She hadn't changed a lot on the dress, but she had altered enough that it felt like a different gown than the one Hannah had seen before. She watched Hannah's expression in the mirror, feeling joy at the happy gleam that lit up her face.
"Wow, I look incredible," Hannah said.
Her bridesmaids agreed with a stunning array of adjectives: beautiful, gorgeous, and sexy.
Hannah turned around, meeting her gaze. "I thought it was pretty before, Keira—the first and second time I tried it on—but now it's perfect. What did you do?"
"I basically got rid of everything I did last time. And I accentuated your boobs," she added with a laugh.
"Thank God for that. Seriously, Keira. You outdid yourself, and I didn't even think that was possible. What was the breakthrough?"
"I was putting a lot of things on your dress that weren't about your dress at all."
"Well, that's cryptic." Hannah gave her a searching gaze.
"It's not important. All that matters is that you're happy and that you're going to be a beautiful bride."
"It's exactly what I wanted. I knew you were the right woman for this job."
"I'm glad you're happy. Jake's eyes are going to pop out when he sees you in that."
"Wait until you see the lingerie I bought for the honeymoon," Hannah said with a mischievous smile.
She grinned back at her. "Maybe it's good for Jake that you know CPR."
"Probably," she said with a laugh. "Now get me out of this. Let's go to dinner and drink wine and toast to Chelsea's baby."
"You got it."
They left her shop about twenty minutes later and headed down the street for dinner. For the next two hours, she gossiped with her friends, and it was just the distraction she needed. While the men in their lives came up, they also talked about their jobs, their families, what was happening in town and in the world, what books they were reading, and what TV shows they were binging. It was a great catch-up that had been too long in coming.
Their evening wound down around nine. As they paid the check and left the restaurant, her mind turned to Dante. She was eager to see him, impatient to hear more about what the doctor had said, even though she knew that his good news would be her bad news.
They walked back to her store and hugged their goodbyes. Then she got into her car and headed to the inn.
Lizzie was taking Chelsea home, so she didn't see her when she arrived. The reception area was empty, so she jogged up the stairs to Dante's room.
He answered her knock immediately, pulling her inside the room for a smoldering kiss before she could get one word out. There was so much to say, but he didn't seem interested in talking, and since she was afraid of having the conversation they needed to have, she was fine to leave any discussion for later.
She threw her arms around his neck and savored each kiss more than the last. She wanted to drink him in until she was drunk on the heady feelings bubbling up inside of her.
Dante walked her back against the wall, and she loved the feeling of being trapped between a deliciously hard man and a solid wall. As he lifted his mouth from hers, he gave her a look so filled w
ith desire that her entire body tingled. She felt breathless and impatient and very, very needy.
This man—this gorgeous, rugged, athletically built man—was beyond her wildest imagination. She'd never felt this overwhelmed, not just by him, but by her emotions, her hunger. She wanted to strip off his clothes and trace every inch of him with her mouth. She wanted to touch him and taste him, and then pull his body into hers. She wanted to feel his power and strength.
"Damn," he whispered. "You are so beautiful, Keira." His blue eyes glittered with appreciation. "I want us to go slow, take our time."
"We have all night and you said you were really prepared, so… We can mix it up. Fast, then slow or slow, then fast."
"It's not going to be slow."
"Good. You know I like speed. The more reckless, the better." She tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. "Let's get these clothes off."
He stepped just far enough away to yank off his shirt and kick off his jeans. Then he grabbed her by both arms, turned her around, and pulled the zipper of her dress down to her waist. She stepped out of the dress as he unhooked the clasp on her bra and then his hands were on her panties, pushing them down her hips. She turned back around as the last two items of clothing dropped to the floor.
Dante claimed her mouth once more, sliding his lips down the side of her neck as his hands played with her breasts. Her nerves were on fire, burning with need and impatience. But Dante had apparently changed his mind about going fast, as he explored her body with his mouth and his hands, teasing every sensitive spot until her legs went weak.
He pulled her over to the bed and they fell onto the soft mattress together, getting tangled up in each other as the heat between them got hotter. She wanted to feel him everywhere. She wanted his body over hers, under hers, next to hers. A desperation to make this memory count took over. She needed him to know her, really know her. She wanted to imprint her touch on his body, on his mind, so he would never forget her. Because she knew she would never forget him.
Breathless, heart pounding, nerves tingling, they came together in a perfect collision of need, desire, and what felt a lot like love. She felt overwhelmed with emotion as she floated back down to earth. She could laugh. She could cry. She didn't know which way it would go, because there were too many feelings running through her, and following those feelings came the thoughts and the questions.
If We Never Met Page 21