by Brenda Novak
“Fine,” she murmured.
After the passion she’d shown him, he’d expected something a little more reassuring than a polite, one-word answer. When she didn’t elaborate, he rose up on one elbow and tried to see her face. “You liked it, right?”
She threaded her fingers lightly through his hair. “I liked it a lot. You’ll be a hard act to follow,” she said, sounding aloof for the first time since he’d touched her.
The euphoria began to dissipate. “A hard act to follow? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s a compliment. It means it’ll be tough for anyone else—in the future, of course—to compete.”
He hesitated, unsure why she’d had to bring them both back to reality so abruptly. “We just made love, Dakota. Do we have to talk about other men right now?”
“I wasn’t talking about other men. I was merely trying to let you know that you don’t have to look back once you go. I’ll move on and be perfectly fine.”
He didn’t know how to respond. She was purposely giving him exactly what he wanted—a brief but torrid affair, no strings attached. But it was a little too brief, even for him. “I’ve already asked you to go back with me.”
“I know. I can’t leave my father.” She got out of bed.
“Where are you going?” he asked in surprise.
“I want to take a quick shower and get some sleep.” She made an attempt to search for something—the bra and panties?—but when she didn’t immediately encounter them, she gave up. The bedding was so jumbled, they could be anywhere, and he was too shocked by her actions to worry about discarded clothing.
He rubbed his eyes. “What’d I do?”
“Nothing. This is how ‘casual’ works, isn’t it?”
“Casual?” he echoed. “You didn’t respond as if this was casual.”
“I’m new at it. Maybe I’ll get better with time.” He was pretty sure she was smiling, which seemed to bother him almost as much as her words. “Good night and—” she seemed at a loss “—is ‘thanks’ appropriate?”
Tyson felt the anger that had boiled inside him earlier return. “Yeah, no problem,” he said. “Let me know the next time you’re looking to get off. If I’m still around, maybe I can be of service.”
“Maybe,” she echoed, and she snapped off the light as she left.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Grandpa Garnier: Love is like war, easy to begin
but hard to end.
DAKOTA CHARGED IMMEDIATELY to the bathroom, shut and locked the door and leaned against it. Her whole body was shaking, even her lips, and her throat stung with the effort of holding back tears, which she could no longer deny. They rolled down her cheeks in a steady stream, but it didn’t matter now. She’d done it. She’d let Tyson off the hook before he could even wonder what to do about her.
I had to. It would’ve come to that eventually, right? And she much preferred their brief romantic interlude to end while they could still like and respect each other. If she hadn’t acted right away, there was a good chance he would’ve awakened in the morning, realized what he’d done and regretted it. He wanted to be free. He’d made that clear from the beginning. Which meant he’d only resent her if she tried to take that away from him.
As difficult as it had been to climb out of his bed, especially on the heels of the soul-moving encounter they’d just shared, she’d managed to make her legs work and her lips smile and her voice sound nonchalant. The past few minutes had cost her a great deal, but it had been worth it to maintain her dignity.
She thought about how gentle he’d been with her, how unselfish, and closed her eyes. She’d never forget tonight, wouldn’t let herself be sorry.
Drawing a bolstering breath, she turned on the shower, but she didn’t get in. Maybe she wanted Tyson to think she could wash away every trace of him that perfunctorily, but she couldn’t. The scent of him lingered on her skin, and she wanted it to remain as long as possible.
Besides the memory, it was all she’d allow herself to take into tomorrow.
* * *
TYSON FELT a little shell-shocked as he listened to the water run. He wasn’t sure how to react. A few minutes earlier, Dakota had been panting his name and clinging to him as if she’d die before letting go. And then…Is “thanks” appropriate?
“Wow,” he muttered, and scraped his palm over his face.
The water went off, and he found himself waiting for her footsteps in the hall. He was hoping she’d have something else to say to him, so that he’d have the opportunity to convince her to come back and curl up with him. He hadn’t meant that parting shot. He hoped she knew that. Even if she had used him, he wouldn’t mind letting her do it again. And again.
We’re going to have to figure this out. They had very different pasts; they wanted very different futures. But he cared about her. Did it have to be all or nothing?
The light disappeared from beneath the door. She wasn’t coming back.
Briefly, Tyson considered going to her, but ultimately decided against it. They needed to talk. But it had already been an emotionally exhausting evening. And if he couldn’t give her what she really wanted, he’d only hurt her in the end, right?
Maybe she knew his limitations better than he did.
* * *
JOE WAS AT BREAKFAST. Because Dakota couldn’t quite meet his eye, she kept herself busier than she had to be making breakfast, serving the guests and cleaning up. She hoped no one would notice how withdrawn she was today, but of course, Joe did. He tried to talk to her on two different occasions, but Elaine drew him away both times.
As difficult as it was to face Joe, it was even harder to face Tyson. What they had shared last night was so intimate—more intimate than anything she’d ever shared with another human being—and it felt strange to wake up and go back to business as usual. Especially when she could’ve sworn she had a big sign blinking over her head that said, “I had sex with Tyson last night.”
“Hey, how come you’re the one doing all the work?”
Dakota felt her muscles tense at the sound of Joe’s voice. After a quick stint in front of the television, laughing at sports bloopers with a lot of the other guests, he was back. “Breakfast was my idea,” she said with a shrug. “Tyson handled the barbecue, I agreed to do breakfast.”
Joe insisted on drying off the frying pan she’d just washed. “So…how’d it go with him last night?”
Cheeks burning, she turned and opened a cupboard, ostensibly to put away some glasses. “He went to bed early.”
“Come on.” In her peripheral vision, she saw him arch one eyebrow. “You’re telling me you didn’t see him after I left?”
Her hand froze midmotion. Then she closed the cupboard and glanced around, afraid someone else had heard the meaningful inflection of his voice. No one was paying particular attention. Except Tyson, of course. He’d been watching her all morning. He’d even come up behind her once, so close she could feel the heat of his body. His breath had stirred the hair around her ear as he’d whispered, “Every time I look at you, I see you as I saw you when I first opened your bedroom door last night.”
Dakota had tried to stifle the shiver his words evoked, but she knew he’d noticed when she met his eyes and he’d given her a slow, sexy smile. She knew what that smile meant—that it was going to take Herculean effort to keep their attraction from getting out of hand again, especially because he was done fighting. He wanted more, and he was letting her know it.
“Dakota?”
She blinked at Joe. “What?”
“That kiss worked, didn’t it?”
Dakota saw Tyson give Elaine a “take care of it” look and Elaine moved toward them. But Joe pulled Dakota into the pantry before she could reach them and shut the door. “So…are you two an item now or what?” he asked.
“Dakota?” It was Elaine, knocking on the door.
“Tell Tyson to protect his own interests,” Joe called back to her.
“I don’t know what you’
re talking about,” she said innocently. “I just came over to tell Dakota how good breakfast was.”
“Sure you did. Anyway, she thanks you and will do so in person later.”
“What?” Elaine replied innocently.
“You heard me.”
They both heard Elaine move away, reluctantly if the pause that followed served as any indication, and Joe turned his attention back to Dakota. “What happened last night?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s changed,” she lied.
“Then you’re still in love with him.”
She shrugged. “Pathetic, huh?”
He didn’t seem pleased, but he took the news like a good sport. “At least he’s interested. I’ve been to several parties he’s attended in the past year, but I’ve never seen him act that way about anyone else.”
“He’s too caught up in football to care about a woman.”
“Well, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on…” Joe reached into his wallet and handed her his card. “And if you’re interested in making money, I could give you a few investment tips at the same—” His words fell off as his eyes shifted to a spot over her left shoulder.
Dakota knew the squeak she’d heard was Tyson opening the door. Ignoring the awareness that skittered down her spine, she nodded. “Sure. I appreciate it.”
“Your investment tips are so secret they’ve got to be shared in the pantry?” Tyson asked dryly.
Dakota grinned at Joe, who winked and shook his head. “See what I mean? I’d better get back to the party. I’ve got to thank Elaine for tattling.”
Swallowing a laugh, Dakota waited until he was gone to face Tyson.
“What was that all about?” he asked suspiciously.
“You heard him. An investment opportunity.”
“It had better not be an investment in you.”
“We’re just friends.”
His eyes remained wary. “Still playing at casual relationships?”
She lifted her chin. “Getting good at them, actually. I have an excellent teacher.”
“You still think last night was casual.” As he stepped closer, his masculine scent evoked erotic memories.
“Of course.” She swallowed hard. “Casual is all you do, right?”
“That depends on your meaning of the word.” He closed the door behind him, and the noise from the breakfast party immediately dimmed. “Casual doesn’t mean indifferent, Dakota.” Putting his hands on her shoulders, he ran them down her arms. “I care about you. I’ve already told you so.”
In a desperate bid to save her sanity, she told herself it wasn’t true. Or if it was, what he felt couldn’t compare to her feelings for him. But it was difficult to hang on to that thought when he was so close…lowering his head…kissing the corner of her mouth…pulling her up against him. “Or that I’m not dying to touch you again.”
Proof of that was very apparent. “There are people on the other side of that door,” she pointed out.
“Which is why I can’t go back out there yet.” He kissed her more deeply.
“I don’t think that kind of kissing will help.”
“You’re right,” he admitted. “God, I can’t believe we were stupid enough to invite all these people up here. All I want to do is make love with you. And we’re invaded, overrun. But it won’t be long before they go.”
Dakota tried to drum up some of her resolve. “Tyson, what happened last night won’t happen again. Casual means…casual, okay? It means no right to future contact. It means no commitment. I’m your nanny, nothing more.” Please, leave me the chance to recover.
He watched her steadily. “But you want to make love again.”
He’d made it a statement, but she could tell he was wondering, hoping she’d admit it. “Someday. When I find the right man.”
“I don’t see Mr. Right on the horizon. So why not enjoy some lesser mortal, someone like me, in the meantime?”
And die a little in the process? “Tyson—”
He silenced her with a kiss that burned all the way to her toes. “Can you honestly tell me you don’t want me?” he asked.
“I’m saying I’m stupid to get involved.”
“But I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Exactly!” If he only knew how deeply she was falling in love with him. “Anyway, there’re other women to…enjoy.”
He had his hand under her shirt, cupping her breast. “I don’t want anyone else.”
She fought the current of desire threatening to sweep her away. “Someone could walk in here, Ty.”
“Which is why we should take this upstairs.”
“Right now?”
“Why not?” He trailed kisses down her neck. “You’ve been driving me crazy all morning.”
Her restraint slipped a little further. “We were just together last night.”
“You left too soon. I hated that.”
It had been a major victory. And here she was, backsliding. “What about your friends?”
“They’re busy having fun. They’ll never miss us.”
She laughed, kissed him, then gently nipped his lip with her teeth. “Forget going upstairs.” As long as she was going to crash and burn, she might as well create the mother of all bonfires. “Let’s take the Ferrari into the mountains.”
“You want to make love outside?”
“Why not?”
“You’ll get no complaints from me.” He grinned as his hands slid down, rounded her bottom. “I’ll get a blanket and some wine. You want anything else?”
“Just you.”
Sobering, he stared down at her for a long moment. Something changed in his eyes, softened. But she didn’t know what it meant and, a second later, he slipped out.
* * *
“I CAN’T BELIEVE we did this,” Dakota said, mumbling as if she didn’t have the energy to speak clearly. “We have guests at home.”
Tyson had his pants up, but they hadn’t been up for long. He opened his eyes and squinted at the dappled sun falling through the pine trees all around them. He felt like he was floating on the wind that was gently buffeting the leaves. “If we don’t go back right away, maybe they’ll leave,” he said hopefully. “I wouldn’t mind saying goodbye to Joe.”
“Joe’s not so bad.” She stirred, rolling away from him onto her side. “Anyway, they’re your friends. Why do you want them to leave so soon?”
“I have other interests right now.” He curled his body around hers, lowering his hand until he found what he wanted, then smiled as he heard Dakota’s quick intake of breath.
“Such as…” she managed to say, but the word sounded a little strangled.
He lowered his head to breathe the words into her ear. “Making you writhe and moan and completely lose control. Again.”
“I’m too exhausted. It won’t work,” she said, but it was a halfhearted answer, because he was already getting a good start on it.
“Wanna bet?” he challenged. Then he proceeded to prove her wrong.
* * *
“TELL ME about your mother.”
Dakota was lying on Tyson’s shoulder. For the past several minutes, she’d been chastising herself for not getting up and insisting Tyson drive them back to the cabin so she could resume hostessing duties. But she felt so content she couldn’t move.
“What do you want to know about her?”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
“I was only a baby when she left.”
“So you don’t remember her?”
She brushed her hand over his washboard abs, the light matting of hair on his chest. “No. I have a few pictures, that’s all.”
“I’d like to see them sometime.”
Dakota didn’t answer. The pictures weren’t something she pulled out from under the bed very often. The woman in them was a stranger.
“Do you have much contact with her?”
“She’s called a few times. Not a lot.”
“What does she say?” He
ran his fingers idly through the long strands of her hair.
“She asks how I’m doing in heavily accented English. Twice, she invited me to visit her, but even if I could’ve left my father, I don’t know how either of us would’ve paid the travel expenses. Although she’s remarried, her husband works as a truck driver, she works as a housekeeper and they have five kids to take care of. Besides that, she comes from a very poor family, all of whom saved for years to make it possible for her to come to the States so that she could have a better life.”
“A life she ended up not wanting.”
That wasn’t the only thing she hadn’t wanted. And Dakota could anticipate the same kind of treatment from Tyson. He was going to leave her, as well—and he was going to take Braden with him.
Sitting up, she began straightening her clothes. “We’d better get back. I want to pick up Braden, don’t you?”
“Hey.” He took her hands, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t withdraw.”
“I’m not withdrawing. There’s just not much to say about my mother.”
“What happened to your parents’ marriage, do you know?”
“From what my father has said, too many differences. My mom was a devout Catholic, my father was agnostic—still is. She wanted to maintain the traditions of her homeland; my father wanted her to adopt American traditions. Bottom line, they didn’t get along, and she missed her family so much she eventually went back.”
“And your father? How long ago did he get hurt?”
“It’s been sixteen years.”
“He’s been in pain that long?”
She pretended to be absorbed in zipping and buttoning.
“What happened?” he asked, watching her.
She didn’t want to talk about it. Facing the reason for her father’s injury made her feel guilty, even though she’d been only ten years old when she made the mistake that had caused everything. “He just…got hurt.”
“How?”
Brushing the twigs from her hair, she used her fingers to comb it into some semblance of order. “It was an accident.” Finished, she reached out to help him up. “Let’s go.”
He hesitated, but finally seemed to accept her reluctance to supply details. “Wouldn’t want to keep Joe waiting,” he said, giving her the evil eye.
