EMBER - Part Two (The EMBER Series Book 2) (7 page)

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a week." I wrinkle my nose realizing how pathetic that sounds. It's only been four days since he left my apartment after seeing his picture on my phone.

He flicks open the napkin in front of him and places it across his lap before he scoops one of the warm pieces of bread from the basket the waiter just dropped off. "I had to cover someone's shift. I didn't have to but I owed him one."

I could tell by the weariness in his voice last night when he called me to say goodnight that he was exhausted. I know that he loves his job but I see the toll the physical demands take on him. He's sitting in front of me now, in a crowded bistro, less than a block from my new apartment, with a growth of beard on his face, and a tired look in his eyes.

"You're a good guy."

"I'm a good guy?" he repeats back with a wide grin. "I'm not a great lover? I'm not the sexiest man you've ever known?"

I try to hide the small smile that is tugging at the edge of my lips by taking a bite of the bread.

"That's the game you're going to play with me?" He lifts the bread in his hand in the air before tipping his chin towards me. "I actually like that you think I'm a good guy."

I cover my hand with my mouth while I chew and swallow. "I bet everyone who knows you thinks you're a good guy."

The playfulness that is there in his eyes disappears with the next blink he takes. He bites into the bread again as his gaze floats over the interior of the bistro. I know immediately where his mind has darted off to, so I pull it back in.

"I'm going to start on two new portraits tomorrow."

When he looks at me again I see a calm softness in the lines of his brow. "Who are they of?"

"Both of them are women," I begin before I lean back to let the waiter place a small garden salad in front of me. I wait until he gives Dane his before I continue. "One is the wife of a man I met a week ago and the other is a really beautiful woman I know."

"She can't possibly be more beautiful than you." He stabs his fork into a piece of tomato before scooping it into his mouth.

My mouth curves. "She's gorgeous. She has dark hair, bright green eyes. She should have been a model."

He licks a wayward drop of salad dressing from his bottom lip. "What does she do?"

I know that I promised Harper I wouldn't tell anyone about her portrait, but this is Dane and there's no harm in sharing some masked details with him. "I met her when I went for physical therapy."

"It's your therapist?" He munches on a leaf of lettuce. "Her name is Harper, right?"

The only way out of this is to avoid the direct questions completely so I do. "The other woman is older. I mean she's older than we are. She's been married to the same man for thirty years."

"What's she like?"

I've only spoken to Tex's wife, Leanna, once on the phone but the energy that flowed through her voice is witness to the fact that she's a bundle of positivity. "I haven't met her in person yet, but I talked to her on the phone. I think she'll be fun to work with."

We eat in silence, both watching the other. When he finally pushes his plate aside, he clears his throat. "I'm really proud of you, Bridget. You're the most remarkable person I've ever known."

They aren't words you expect to hear when you have a forkful of food in your mouth. I cough slightly, hoping that the piece of lettuce that just slid down my throat whole won't choke me. I chew quickly, wanting to say something about how touching his words are but the moment is lost when the waiter returns with our entrees.

Dane blows out a puff of air between his lips as soon as we're alone again. "You're really important to me.  You're becoming really important to me."

I fumble with my hands, knowing that they're simply a physical reflection of what I'm feeling inside. I want to abandon the dinner and go back to my apartment. I want to crawl into his lap and kiss him until I can't tell if the breath I taste is mine or his. I want to say things that are there inside of my heart, but my mind is keeping them under lock and key.

"I know you hate the Maisy stuff." He hangs his head down. "I hate the fucking Maisy stuff."

I can't make the emotional leap from hearing him tell me that I'm important to talking about the woman he was about to propose to when we met. "Don’t talk about her."

"I know it tears you up inside." He shakes his shoulders. "I don't know exactly what you feel but I see the pain in your face when I bring her up."

I reach for my napkin so I can cover my quivering hands in my lap. "I just want that part of your life to be over."

"I need it to be done." He rakes his hand through his hair. "I'm going to take care of it this week. If I have to give her the house, I will."

I can't respond. There's nothing I can say that will offer anything that even remotely conveys what I'm feeling inside.

"I want to build a future with you, Bridget. I want that more than anything."

I move my lips to tell him that I want it too but he's still talking.

"I won't rush you into anything, but I've never felt the way I do when I'm with you. I'll do whatever it takes to show you that my past is in my past."

I look down at my untouched dinner. "Can you take me home? I just want to go home."

He doesn't hesitate before he's on his feet. He rifles through his wallet, throws some bills on the table and takes me by the hand.

We roll over the mattress entangled in each other's clothing. I'd tried to pull off my clothes but he'd had me on the bed before I had a chance to undo the zipper on my jeans. Now, his hands are desperately clawing at the t-shirt I'm wearing while I work to pull the bulky sweater he has on, over his head.

He finally stills for a moment. "Let me undress you. I want to see you."

I should point out that it's hard to distinguish anything in my bedroom. The window coverings in my new place do the job they're intended to do. I can't see any of the light from the surrounding buildings or the street. It's dark and when I fell asleep last night, I'd relished in the calm that came with the darkness and also the muted street noise.

I pull on his hands but he slides quickly off the bed to turn on the small light on the nightstand. It may have been designed for reading but anyone who hoped to do that, would struggle to make out the words. It's dim and right now, it's throwing off a romantic tone that is perfect.

I lay still as he slowly removes each article of my clothing. He stops when the only thing I have on is a pair of panties. His hands trace a path over my stomach and hip bones before they come to rest on the sides of the black lace. "I tell you all the time that you're beautiful."

I reach up to grab hold of his broad shoulders. I want to kiss him. I need to feel my mouth on his. "Kiss me."

He leans down without any hesitation and kisses me deeply, his tongue licking its way into my mouth. "I love kissing you, Bridget."

I pull him close, wanting to taste his lips again. I moan into the depth of his kiss. I weave my fingers through his hair and he groans softly into my mouth.

He lowers himself onto me, his jean covered groin rubbing tenderly against my flesh. My hand darts down to the waistband. I crave the touch of his hard flesh. I ache to feel him inside of me.

In an instant he circles my waist with his hand and flips us over so I'm on top of him. I straddle his broad thighs, pushing myself up so my body is on display.

His eyes scan my face before they drop to my breasts. They're not large and at one time I may have wished they were more generous but now, seeing the desire in his eyes, I know that they're enough. I know instinctively that I'm enough for him.

"You don't know what you do to me." His hand leaps to his bare chest. "I feel like I can't breathe when you look at me."

I push my chin down. I don't want my eyes to betray me. I know that he can see things when he looks at me. I know it's not just about the desperate pull that my body feels for his. It's not just about the fact that I can't hide a smile when I catch him looking at me. It's about the way my heart feels when I hear him say my name. It's about the fact that he told me, not more than an hour ago, that he'd give up the house that he saved his entire life for, if it means we can move forward in peace together.

"I tell myself to slow down." He slides his hands over my thighs. "I keep telling myself that I'm going to scare you away, but I can't help it."

"We'll take it slowly," I say softly as I lean forward to brush my lips over his cheek. "We'll take it one day at a time."

His hands circle my waist, as he pulls my body into his chest. "I've wasted most of my life not knowing you. I can't waste another minute."

I give in to his kiss and his hands as he grabs hold of the thin lace of my panties and rips them from me.

***

I feel the weight of his body when he returns to the bed. After we'd kissed and he'd licked me until I begged him to stop, he'd held me in his strong arms. He'd talked softly about wanting to watch me sketch portraits, and a dream he'd had last week about us hiking a mountain trail together.

He'd gone to the kitchen to get us each a glass of juice and when he returned, he'd finally pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down. I had turned over then to catch my breath but I heard the faint sound of my nightstand drawer opening and the unmistakable tear of the foil of the condom package.

His breathing had shifted and I knew without looking that he was sheathing his hard cock so he could finally take me the way I'd wanted him to all night. I'd pleaded with him to fuck me when I came the first time under his tongue, but he had ignored me and instead, slid one of his long fingers into my channel until he found the tender spot that pushed me back over the edge in an instant.

"Bridget." His lips are on my neck. "Turn over for me."

I do and just as I'm about to pull in a heavy breath, his hands are on my thighs, pushing them apart as he settles between them. He pushes my hands to the side as his mouth dives down to claim my right nipple. I moan loudly from the sensation of his teeth grazing over the swollen bud. He sucks on it harder, pulling a thread of desire from deep within my body. I try to move my legs to quiet the desperate need that I feel in my core.

"My body aches for you." His words are muffled by own flesh. "I'm so hard."

I try to twist my arm so that I can reach down to circle my hand around his thick root but he shakes his head.

I whimper, not as much out of frustration for the denial but more for the yearning that I feel inside. I want him to make love to me. I want him to slide his cock into me while he kisses me. I want him to take me slowly tonight, but at this point, it's not about my need, it's about his desire to own my body and when he pulls back from my breast to look into my face, I know that he won't temper what he's feeling. He's going to drive himself into me until I scream his name as I claw his back.

Not a word is spoken between us as he rallies back on his heels and thrusts his cock into me.

The connection takes my breath away because it's different tonight. It's not just about his need to get off. It has nothing to do with me chasing an orgasm. It's about two people who are baring themselves in every possible way for the other.

His hips grind into me as a string of muted curse words fall from his lips. His eyes never leave mine and as I feel my body tense with intense pleasure, he mouths three words that I'm not ready to hear yet. I close my eyes as I race over the edge knowing that nothing between us will ever be the same again.

"I think we're done, Bridget."

I turn to look at where she's standing near the desk in her office. It's my last scheduled therapy visit with Harper and I hate to admit it, but I'm going to miss the encouragement she's been quick to offer me. "I'm good to go?"

"You shouldn't overdo it." She nods towards my left hand. "The bone is healed but it's going to be weak for a few months. Take it slow and steady and you'll be set."

It's the words that I've been longing to hear. The accident was more than two months ago now, but it feels like a lifetime ago. So much has changed and later today, when I go see Ben, for my check-up, I already know that I'll receive just as promising news from him too. I've been diligent about following every suggestion the medical professionals have offered me.

"You're doing a follow-up with Dr. Foster after lunch?"

I smile. "You can read minds. I was just thinking about that."

She raises both brows. "I can't read minds. I wish I could."

It's an open invitation to ask what that means but for now, we're still just therapist and patient. She's cancelled our portrait sessions twice and I know that her weak excuse about having to catch up on paperwork was nothing more than a diversion because she's having second thoughts about putting herself out there. Regardless of how much I've assured her that I won't draw her in a way that makes her recognizable, she's wary and I can't blame her for that.

"Do you still want to draw me?"

I try to hide the fact that I'm completely taken aback by the question. "I'd love to draw you."

"I don't have another appointment until four. Can we start now?"

I jump off of the exam table, reach into my bag and pull out my sketchpad and pencil. "Now is the perfect time to start."

***

"Are you in relationship, Bridget?" She doesn't turn her head away from the point on the wall that I asked her to focus on thirty minutes ago. She'd sat in complete silence while I outlined the curves of her brow and chin.

I don't see any reason not to be forthcoming so I put it all out there. "I am. We met a few months ago."

"What's he like?"

I've never actually described Dane to anyone. Zoe met him, so there's been no need to explain to her that I see him as this once-in-a-lifetime kind of guy. Vanessa may not know him well but she sees him through the eyes of soon-to-be family member. She'll marry Garrett and Dane will become her cousin-in-law. I have no idea how close their extended family is but judging by what Dane told me about his mother and Garrett's mom, Vanessa will be a part of Dane's life forever.

I push my hair back behind my ear before I start shading in her hairline. "He's kind, he's compassionate. He has a really good heart."

"Are you in love with him?"

These aren't the questions I imagined I'd have to answer when I came into her office more than an hour ago. I also didn't think I'd be drawing her profile.

"I like him a lot," I say honestly. "I can see myself falling in love with him in time. I don't want to rush into anything."

"You're too young to be that wise," she mutters through a half grin. "I rushed into my last relationship and it didn't end well."

"You talked about that before," I offer hoping it helps her to open up more. We're not friends. If anything we're barely acquaintances, but she needs to unload, and if I'm the person she sees fit to do that with, I'm more than willing to sit and listen. "You said he tracked you down. Is that the same guy?"

"That's him." She turns towards me briefly before she settles her gaze back on the wall. "I don't know how he found me, but he did. He was here yesterday."

I can't imagine that. I've never had a man chase me beyond a few boys on the playground when I was a child. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is he dangerous?"

"Not in that way." She rubs her hand over her eyes. "Emotionally he's dangerous. He hurt me. He dumped me and then begged me to take him back."

My mind jumps to Maisy and although I know that Dane never begged her to take him back, the pain of the rejection has stung her enough that she's had trouble letting him go. "That sounds awful."

"I've never loved anyone but him and yesterday when he was here he told me he loves me too and wants to try again."

It sounds so cut and dry but I know that if it was, she wouldn't be confiding in me. "What do you want?"

"I want to understand him. I want to know if he's playing games with me."

I nod because I can't think of anything to say that will help her.

She drops her chin slightly, which changes the shape of her eye. I quickly sketch its outline wanting to capture the pure emotion that I see there. "If I give him one more chance, and he breaks my heart again, I don't know if I can survive that."

The pencil in my hand stops in mid-air. I look up and that's when I see a solitary tear running down her beautiful face.