The Something about Her: Opposites Attract book four

by Higginson, Rachel

“I’ll figure it out,” I promised. “I want to see you again too.”

  He nodded and kissed me again. Suddenly, I hated work and Bianca and brunch. All I wanted to do was kiss this man and see what other fun things he could do with those very dexterous fingers.

  “Walk me out?” he said when we were able to calm down and some of the blush had disappeared from my cheeks.

  Of course, my hair was a mess and I was still trying to unrumple my clothes.

  We said goodbye without kisses and promised to text later.

  If anyone in the kitchen noticed the sexed-up look painting my expression, they didn’t say anything. Seamlessly, I jumped back into head chef territory.

  There was something about Vann that swept me away, that took over me completely. He was the first man I’d ever been willing to take a chance on. The first relationship that had demanded my attention, that compelled me to dive in deeper.

  Vann was becoming so much more than I knew how to explain. He had saved me over and over. But now, he was saving me from something so much bigger than adulting.

  He was saving my heart.

  Twenty-One

  “You’re sure you got this?”

  Blaze laughed on the other end of the phone. I held it away from my face for a second and checked the number just to be sure I’d called the right person. I’d made Blaze laugh. Boom!

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” he returned confidently. “You know, you’ve left me in charge before. I can make it through a night without burning anything down.” He paused and then added, “Or burning anything for that matter. I’m very proficient at not burning things in general.”

  I rushed to assure him I had faith in him. “No, I know. I realize you’re good at what you do. It’s just, you know, your first time with the new menu and we have that new hire and—”

  “Chef, seriously, we’re good! Have fun on your date.”

  “Doctor’s appointment,” I clarified, but then couldn’t remember if I’d said doctor’s appointment or dentist appointment earlier.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Hey, it’s cool. You’ve been working twenty-four-seven. If you need the night off, take the night off. You’re the boss.”

  I was the boss. I was the boss of a kitchen that was starting to act like a kitchen. And it felt amazing. So when Vann had texted to see if I could get the night off and do the Taco Tuesday ride he did with his cyclist friends every week, I’d jumped at the chance.

  “You’re a good guy,” I told Blaze, genuinely meaning it. “And a great sous chef. Thanks for covering for me.”

  “Anytime,” he promised.

  God, that felt so good. Sunday House was officially off the menu for him. He was fully committed to Bianca and me. This was loyalty. This was trust. And I was so grateful it went both ways.

  I clicked off with Blaze and smiled at Vann. “Everything good?” he asked.

  Stepping closer to him, I nodded my head and pressed a kiss to his jawline. “Everything’s good.”

  “Mmm,” he rumbled, pulling me into a deeper, longer, more satisfactory kiss. We were tucked away in his office, making the most of our privacy—something we were getting really good at.

  Since our first date by the lake, we’d seen each other as much as we could over the last month. But to be honest, between our opposite work schedules and individual busy days and nights, our offices had been our most consistent meeting place.

  I would pop over to his shop for lunch during the week. And he would swing over to mine after hours while I worked on paperwork and closed Bianca. On Sundays, he would hang out for brunch. And now I was here, with him, waiting for the rest of his bike gang to show up so we could ride twenty miles for “the best tacos in the Carolinas.”

  I doubted that, but I was willing to check it out.

  Cycling still wasn’t my thing, but I had fun with Vann, and he promised me this trip involved beer. I just hoped he wouldn’t have to bust out his first aid skills on me a second time. Me, plus cycling and drinking beer all night, did not sound like the safest combination.

  But I was willing to try anything once.

  Okay, that was a lie. But I was willing to try at least some things as long as Vann was involved.

  His hands dipped beneath my tight workout tank and squeezed my sides. I slid back on his desk and wrapped my legs around his waist. Our mouths moved against each other with increasing hunger.

  I loved the scrape of his five o’clock shadow on my face tonight. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I arched my back and pressed more tightly against him.

  He made another rumbly sound when I caught his bottom lip between my teeth at the same time I scraped my nails against the back of his neck. “You’re something else,” he murmured against my lips.

  “You’re one to talk.”

  His smile broke the kiss, both of us gasping for air with the reprieve. He took a step back, running a hand through his unkempt hair while I pressed mine to my swollen lips and tried to figure out how we’d gotten to this place where we kissed whenever we wanted and neither of us felt the need to ask permission.

  The permission was already given. He had consent to kiss me as much as he wanted.

  Praise hands emojis all day every day.

  He pulled back and our gazes crashed together. There was something so deep in his gray eyes, something hidden but surfacing, open but not yet exposed.

  “I like you a lot, Baptiste.”

  His words were said in the richest, warmest tone. They shot straight to my heart and spiraled all the way down to my toes.

  “I like you a lot too, Delane.”

  “It’s different though, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “Us,” he said simply.

  I held his gaze, but didn’t know what to make of his thoughts. “What do you mean?”

  “Has it ever been like this for you? I mean, in a relationship?”

  I hadn’t ever really been in a relationship before, so I wasn’t sure what to say. “No,” seemed like an honest-enough answer. “I’ve never felt like this about anybody before.”

  One side of his mouth kicked up in a half-smile. “There’s something here,” he murmured, his eyes a stormy tempest of truth and raw honesty. “There’s something between us.”

  My heart kicked in my chest, a jolt of surprise rocketing through me. “What do you mean?”

  His head dipped and the other side of his mouth joined in a blinding, breathtaking smile. “I’m just saying I’m glad we’re together.”

  If I thought my heartbeat was fast before, it tripled with those sweet words. My entire body felt like it was rushing and speeding and twirling out of control. I had so many emotions I didn’t know how to pick one as the most dominant. God, it felt good for him to say that, to say we were a couple. Like way, way good.

  In a way I had never expected it to.

  This man, that had been so completely annoying at first and then cocky and then just everywhere, had somehow turned into home for me. He’d gone from stranger, to friend, to my everything. And I wasn’t even sure how it had happened?

  I certainly wasn’t looking for a serious relationship when Vann walked into my life. I wasn’t even looking for a non-serious relationship. I had just wanted to survive the day. And Bianca. And this life of mine that felt too much for me.

  And yet, his careful approach had been exactly what I’d needed. All the different times he saved me and cared for me had taught me to trust him before we were even friends. Vann had proven what kind of man he was before he ever asked me out or kissed me or even slept with me—not that I had let us go all the way since that drunken rehearsal night… but it didn’t matter because apparently some sub-conscious part of my brain had already trusted him.

  That was huge for someone like me. Someone whose trust had been so totally and wholly shattered. Someone who didn’t think she would ever get naked with a man again, let alone sleep with him… let alone give him
all of her heart.

  My past was separated from my present one day at a time. It was like tearing off wallpaper with a plastic fork. Slow, frustrating and time-consuming. But I was starting to see some progress. I was starting to differentiate between what happened one night at a party at some guy named Justin’s house, and the care and devotion of a committed relationship.

  Even without considering the rape—which was nearly impossible to do—my dating back then had been random hookups and one-night stands. I would never, ever, ever, in a hundred million years, believe that I had somehow asked for that to happen to me. But I wasn’t dating the caliber of man I needed in general. I had been settling for second and third and fourth best.

  I had been scared to be who I was. And because I couldn’t come to terms with the person I was, I let other people define me. I let them tell me who I was and what I wanted.

  And in the middle of that sticky, ugly, broken mess, I’d been drugged. And raped.

  This thing between Vann and me could not have been more different. He cared about me. He was committed to me. He went out of his way for me. And he was apparently going to be damn sure I could remember him if he ever decided to sleep with me again.

  I loved the way he’d said it too. Because, yes, good grief, there was something about him I could not ignore. I was drawn to him, pulled in. I thought everything he said was funny and that he was maybe the most wonderful human on the planet.

  It was sappy and mushy, and I’d totally sold out for love.

  Yuck.

  Er, wait. Love? I didn’t mean that. I couldn’t meant that.

  “What was that?” I teased, too afraid of the direction of my thoughts to stay serious. “We’re a couple? Are you sure, because this is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

  He smiled, in that self-deprecating way that told me he knew he’d slipped that profound declaration in a little too casually.

  “Is that all right?” he asked, and it was the sweetest question I had ever heard in my entire life.

  “Hmm, that depends,” I teased. “What exactly are you asking?”

  Now his lips pursed into a frown, not nearly as happy with my question as I had been with his. “This is awkward as grown-ups,” he admitted. “If we were seventeen, I’d ask you to be my girlfriend.”

  My smile was probably blinding him, but I couldn’t help it. “You could still ask me.”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes, but it settled into that same mysterious affection I noticed earlier. God, I wanted to know what it was. I wanted him to open his mouth and spill all his secrets. I wanted to know every last thought in Vann Delane’s head because I was positive, I would love them all.

  “Will you be my girlfriend, Dillon Baptiste? Exclusively?”

  I nodded while I tried to find the ability to speak. It was a juvenile request of me to ask. And probably obsolete as most people our age didn’t sit down and ask each other to go steady with them. But I had never been formally asked to be anybody’s girlfriend before, so to me, it was everything. Everything I had been waiting for and wanting and needing.

  And he wanted to be exclusive. Not that he ever had anything to worry about on my side, but dang, it was good to hear him say exactly what he wanted.

  Sorry, but there was nothing wrong with a little define the relationship talk, especially when it led to such happy results.

  “Yes,” I breathed, pushing the word past my lips. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Vann Delane. I’m exclusively yours.”

  Stepping closer to me, he wrapped me up in his arms and held me there for a long time. My cheek pressed against his chest, his heart beating steadily inside him. It was incredibly comfortable and wonderful and… safe.

  I realized with Vann I felt nothing but safe.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked after a few minutes. “It’s going to be fun.”

  “You say that like you’re convincing yourself.”

  He took my hand and pulled me with him out of his office. “It is fun,” he insisted.

  “See? You’re kind of backing up my point here.”

  “There are tacos. And margaritas.”

  “If I’m reading between the lines accurately,” I looked at him, suppressing a smile, “and I do believe that I am, this whole bike ride thing is going to suck but you’re reminding me that there will be food and libations if I persevere through the sucky parts of it.”

  His smile and rumble of laughter was enough to send tingles racing through my body. “What? That’s crazy.”

  I couldn’t help but smile in return, even if I knew I was exactly right. “Uh-huh.”

  “I bought you something,” he murmured, the smile never dimming. “I mean, you know I own the shop and everything. But I promise I picked this out just for you.”

  I repeated the words echoing through my head. “Wait, what?”

  We stepped outside into the hot early August heat and I nearly melted right then and there, next to the prettiest Tiffany Blue bike with a comfy white banana seat and a basket between the handlebars. There was even a pretty pink bow tied around the front.

  The realization of what was happening hit me like a ton of bricks and for a second time, I said, “Wait. What? Are you serious?” He wore the most beautiful smile yet. It was his biggest, his brightest, his most blinding. This was, hands down, the most stunning creature I had ever laid eyes on. “Vann, did you buy me this bike?”

  He tucked his hands into his pocket and grinned away.

  “Vann, for real, is this for me?”

  He shrugged. And shuffled his foot. “You’re always complaining about how uncomfortable bike seats are.”

  I turned to face him, readying to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him senseless when a voice called out from the ugly recesses of my past.

  “Dillon? No way!”

  Dread curdled through me, tightening around my bones until they felt crushed beneath the pressure. I froze. Actually froze in place. My limbs refused to move. My heart stopped mid-beat. My brain turned to an unusable icicle in my head. I stood there, half turned toward Vann, half sucked into the vortex of my hellish nightmare.

  “Dillon!” the voice called for a second time. “No fucking way!”

  I could feel Vann’s curious gaze crawl over my skin. I could hear the questions bouncing around in his head, filling the air with my worst fears. I could sense my past, that night six years ago, springing from the grave to zombie the shit out of my present life.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Not being able to respond, did not deter Justin from carrying on a conversation. He was exactly like I remembered him. Stoner meets ungodly amount of family money meets only ever interested in a good time. He was one of those people you could never be good friends with because he was all shallow end and no substance. “Do you know the bike shop guy? Are you buying this bike?” There was a pause before he tried a different tactic. “Is she buying this bike?”

  “It’s a gift,” Vann answered, his voice taut, strained. “Dillon, are you okay?”

  “You do know each other! How crazy is that?” Justin just kept babbling like my behavior wasn’t totally off, like I clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near here.

  “How do you know her?” Vann demanded. His hand landed on my back in what was meant to be a protective gesture. I flinched at the contact and pulled away, finally breaking the paralysis that had taken over.

  “Dillon and I go way back,” Justin explained. He folded his arms over his long-sleeved shirt and grinned at me. “We grew up getting in trouble together.”

  God, that sounded way more salacious than it was. But then again, wasn’t that the whole point? We would party together. We would drink and experiment with drugs together. And we would apparently let each other get drugged and raped.

  Those fuzzy memories tripped through my mind again. The ones I couldn’t quite grasp. The ones that whispered the awful truth but never let me examine it closely.

  “Is that so?
” Vann asked, reaching for me again.

  I stepped away, wrapping my arms around my middle and wishing for a getaway car. I just wanted to run away. And then I wanted to crawl into a steaming hot shower and never leave.

  “God, I haven’t seen you in fucking forever, DB. It’s been at least…”

  “Six years.”

  He grinned at me, not understanding the significance at all. “Has it really been six years? What the hell happened to you? You just…” he made an explosion sound with his mouth and gestured with both fists, “disappeared.”

  Courage slithered between my breastbone and heart, forcing a path where fear and pain and my past threatened to crush and destroy. “Do you remember the last time we saw each other, Justin? Do you remember that party?”

  His blank look said everything. To be fair, I didn’t think he was the guy that had drugged me. He liked to have a good time, but he also liked for it to be mutual.

  “It was at your house. Right after you got home from Ibiza.”

  His face lit with recognition. “I brought back the good gummies.”

  I didn’t know about that. Gummies. My party had ended after a cocktail.

  “You were wasted that night.” His head tipped back as he laughed at the memory. My stomach turned and my mouth watered with the nauseous threat. “Good times, good times.”

  “Are you here for a reason?” Vann demanded. He was practically vibrating with fury, but all I could do was stand there and tremble.

  “The taco and beer ride?” Justin turned back to me. “What happened to you, Baptiste? Nobody’s seen you in forever. Scotty heard that you died.”

  “I didn’t die.” But there were nights there at the beginning that I thought I might want to. Not for any other reason than to get the disgusting feeling of a stranger’s unwanted hands all over my body out of my head.

  “You should come out with us again,” he insisted. “We’re going to Bendi’s tonight. And next weekend, we’re going up to Leyla’s lodge. You should come. Remember her fucking hot tub?” He laughed at his own phrasing. “Remember the time we—”

  “No.” The word was a sterling silver bullet blasted from my mouth.