And it was time to find out if his family was going to be part of our picture.
“Nice,” Koko deadpanned as she answered the door to Dakota’s childhood home with a scowl. “Dad’s gone so now you bring her home?”
“Koko,” Dakota warned. “Don’t.”
“You really do hate us, don’t you? That’s what Dad thought.”
Dakota flinched, hard.
I squeezed his hand tighter as I stood by his side, waiting for his sister to get out of the way so we could go inside. Her words were cruel. Too cruel. I understood she was grieving too, but she’d just crossed a line.
The pain on Dakota’s face must have clued her in. Her angry scowl began to fade. But still, she didn’t invite us inside.
It had rained the entire way from Lark Cove to Browning. The early November weather was gray and dreary. Its chill settled into my bones. My teeth threatened to chatter, but I clamped my jaw shut, pretending I was lazing on a sunny beach, not waiting for his sister to drop her attitude.
After what felt like hours, Dakota’s other sister, Rozene, came to the door. She pushed in beside Koko, her pregnant belly protruding between us, then mirrored her sister’s frown.
“Mom’s having a bad day,” Rozene said. “It’s not the time for this.”
“It’s never going to be the time,” Dakota shot back. “But we’re here so how about you stop acting like brats and let us the hell inside? It’s cold.”
There was no arguing with his tone.
The sisters shared a look and moved out of the way.
Dakota barreled inside the house, practically dragging me along with him. We stopped in the entryway to take off our coats.
Koko and Rozene stood close watch, no longer blocking the door, but they weren’t inviting us farther into the house either.
As I unwrapped the scarf from my neck, I stole glances at them both.
The women were beautiful, much like their older brother, with striking features. Their mouths were set in a natural line that was intimidating.
I steeled my spine, refusing to cower.
Rozene must have noticed because she stood taller too, crossing her arms across her chest and resting them on her belly.
A woman’s voice called from down the hallway. “Koko, where is the diaper bag?”
“In the kitchen!” she called over her shoulder.
“No, it’s not.” The voice came closer. “What are you . . .”
Dakota’s mother pushed her daughters aside and saw us by the door. Her eyes flared as she recognized me.
“Mom.” Dakota bent and kissed her cheek. “You remember Sofia?”
“Hi.” I extended my free hand. “I’m so sorry about your loss, Lyndie.”
Koko scoffed and spun around, retreating into the house. Rozene kept her stance firm and unwelcoming as Lyndie looked me up and down until I finally dropped my hand. Her stare wasn’t as harsh as her daughters’, but it held no more warmth than the air had outside.
When Lyndie’s inspection was done, she planted her hands on her hips to address Dakota. “Take off your shoes if they’re wet.”
He nodded and toed off his boots. I followed suit.
When we were both down to our socks, he clutched my hand once more and followed his mother past his sister and through the house.
We walked down a short hallway. The two-story home opened up into a great room on one side and a long kitchen at the end of a hallway on the other.
In the great room, cartoons played for the three little kids rolling cars and stacking blocks on the carpet. A baby girl in a pair of pink leggings and a matching tee crawled around the coffee table.
It had to be the same baby who’d been born after New Year’s. She’d gotten so big. Had it really been that long?
The endless months apart from Dakota had gone by in such a blur. Without him around to mark each day special, they’d all melded together.
Dakota waved at the older kids then turned away from the great room and took the hallway that led to the kitchen.
Lyndie was waiting. She stood on the far side of the center island, wearing black pants and a black sweater. Her eyes darted to the stools under the island, quietly commanding us to sit.
Once we were settled, the air in the room got heavy as we waited for her to speak. I kept my mouth shut but let my eyes wander, mostly to escape her scrutiny.
The Magee home was older, probably built in the seventies, but they’d done some remodeling. Maybe Dakota had helped. The white cabinets looked new. The quartz countertops were a soft gray. The maple floors had been sealed but left in their natural tone.
The kitchen reminded me of the farmhouse style popular on a dozen home interior shows at the moment. It went perfectly in this home.
A compliment came to mind, but I kept it to myself. I doubted Lyndie wanted to hear how this New York City–trained interior designer felt about her home.
The uncomfortable silence lingered, until finally Dakota stirred the room with a long breath. He let go of my hand, leaning his forearms on the counter. With a gentle tone he used often with me, he asked, “How are you doing, Mom?”
“How do you think?” she snapped. Dakota’s tone must not work on her like it did on me. “Your father dies, I ask you to move home, to be with your family, and instead you stay away.”
With her.
The unspoken words boomed in the kitchen.
Lyndie’s eyes flooded and she turned her back on us, taking a Kleenex from a box next to the sink. Her shoulders shook as she wept.
“I’ll let you talk.” I touched Dakota’s forearm and slid off my stool.
He’d asked me to come along, but this conversation was not for my ears. Me sitting here would only make it harder on him. And his mom.
So I walked out of the room, glancing over my shoulder as Dakota stood too, walked over to his mother and pulled her into his arms.
Lyndie collapsed into him, clinging to him as she cried.
Wanting to give her that privacy, I started down the hallway, planning on joining the children in the living room. But three steps away from the kitchen, Rozene came into view. She shot me a glare and shook her head, trapping me in my place.
I wasn’t welcome in the great room. I wasn’t necessary in the kitchen. So I loitered in the hallway, stuck in limbo.
With nowhere else to look, I examined the walls. They were full of collaged photo frames. Most of the pictures were older from when Dakota was a child. He’d been a handsome boy, lean and lanky as a teenager before he’d filled his broad frame with muscle. In most, he had a basketball in his hand.
There was one photo that caught my attention, drawing me in. Dakota was standing at the free-throw line, poised and ready to make his shot. His dad was standing off to the side, a proud smile on his face.
When had Joseph stopped smiling at Dakota? Maybe he never had.
The saddest part was Dakota would never know. Their conversations would remain unfinished, their wounds unhealed.
Dakota’s heart had been broken by regret. If his mom pushed hard on him to move home, I didn’t know if he had the strength or energy at the moment to resist. He wouldn’t leave things undone with a family member again.
Don’t push him, Lyndie. As I listened to cartoons in one ear and Lyndie’s weeping in the other, I begged for it over and over again.
The future I was beginning to see with Dakota would be erased forever if he came back here. For selfish reasons, I wanted him to stay in Lark Cove until we could figure us out.
For Dakota’s sake, he needed to be free to live his life. To make his own choices. To shine.
That beautiful man had wings. Why couldn’t his family see them?
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said quietly as she wept.
“Are you coming back?”
“No.”
After a few seconds, the sound of dishes being taken out of a cupboard and put on the counter echoed my way.
“I regret not making things rig
ht with Dad,” Dakota said. “It’ll haunt me forever. I don’t want that with you.”
“Then come home. Be with your family.”
“I can’t.”
A bowl slammed down. “Why?”
“I love you, Mom. I love Koko and Rozene. I love the kids. But I can’t. I don’t mean this to sound like I’m running your choices down, but I don’t want this life.”
“And Sofia?” Lyndie asked.
“She’s in my heart.”
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
My breath hitched, hope swelling in my chest. And like always, my eyes flooded with tears.
He loved me. He might not have said it. He might not see the details of our future either. But he loved me.
There had to be a future. There had to be a way. We’d touched one another’s lives, leaving permanent marks neither of us would ever erase.
If this didn’t work out, if we couldn’t find a way, I’d never be the same.
Neither would he.
“Dakota.” Lyndie sighed. “Your father’s death, it has crushed us. We all have things we should have said. We have our regrets.”
“Mom—”
“Let me finish.” She cut him off. “I don’t want that. You are my son, and I love you. I don’t understand you. But I love you.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t know where we go from here.”
“Neither do I,” Dakota admitted. “I’m lost.”
“So am I.” Lyndie’s voice broke and she began to cry again. Her muffled sobs meant she was once again in Dakota’s arms.
I sniffled, swallowing tears of my own. Sometime during the past year, I’d stopped criticizing myself for crying. It was my release, and I wasn’t going to feel ashamed for it. But I’d also learned how to staunch them when I wanted to, not when others did.
They were my tears. I chose when they were needed. For now, they were at bay.
Turning away from the kitchen, I braved the remainder of the hallway to the great room. The wooden floors were slick under my socks so I took it slowly, dreading what was waiting for me.
The front door tempted me momentarily. I gave it a longing glance before stepping off the wooden floor and onto the carpet, crossing into enemy territory.
I entered the great room unnoticed by the kids. They kept playing, only one of them sparing me a glance. Koko was seated in a chair, her baby girl in her arms lazily drinking a bottle. Rozene was on one end of the couch, closest to the kids.
With a coat and diaper bag on the other chair in the room, I had no choice but to take the free end of the couch.
Neither of Dakota’s sisters spoke to me as I settled into the leather. So I watched the cartoons, recognizing the show from when Dakota and I’d gone over to Thea and Logan’s place on Halloween to tag along for trick-or-treating.
“My brother is exploring. It’s in his blood.” Koko spoke over the show. “But eventually, he’ll realize his place is here and come back home to settle down.”
Is that what she’d told Petah for all these years? Is that why she’d never gotten over Dakota?
“I disagree. I think if you asked and listened, he’d disagree as well.”
Rozene huffed. “This is not what Dad would want.”
Meaning me. I was not who her dad would have wanted for Dakota.
“I love him.” My voice was unwavering. “He is the love of my life.”
Rozene and Koko shared a look. Either they didn’t believe me, or they thought it wouldn’t matter. They really believed Dakota would come back.
Like their mother, they didn’t understand him.
How could three siblings raised together be so different? Though, looking at my own relationship with my siblings, maybe it was something that evolved over time.
“Babe.” All of us turned, the kids included, when Dakota entered the room with Lyndie close behind. He jerked his chin to the door. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, already?” I jumped from my seat, joining him by the door.
He pulled on his boots then gave his mom a long hug good-bye before opening the door. No one said good-bye. No one waved from the porch. The moment we stepped outside into the rain, the door closed behind us.
Dakota’s hand found mine as we hurried down the sidewalk to the truck. He opened my door for me to hop inside then jogged around to get in himself to drive us straight out of town.
It took nearly an hour for his jaw to unclench and his hands to stop strangling the steering wheel.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” I turned away from the window where I’d been watching the rain streak across the glass.
“That you love me?”
“Yes. I love you.”
He nodded once and turned back to the road. His jaw still tense, his hands still iron clamps on the wheel. Dakota’s foot pressed harder on the gas pedal.
With each green mile marker, my heart sank lower.
The minutes on the clock ticked by. That urge to cry, the one I’d held back earlier, came back with a vengeance. I fought it but was close to giving in when Dakota slammed on the brakes.
My arms shot out to brace against the door, and my chest pressed hard into the seatbelt as he took a sharp turn.
The truck bounced down a dirt road fenced by barbed wire and tall trees. I had no idea where we were going, but Dakota seemed to know. He raced us down the road, the wheels exploding puddles along the way.
Dakota hit a hard bump, jostling me in the seat, and I couldn’t stay quiet. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. He drove for another few seconds then pulled off the road and right up to the trees. Ahead of us, the road wound deeper into the forest. Behind us, the highway had long since been hidden by the trees.
“Dak—”
He reached over the console, unbuckled my seatbelt and took my face in his hands. Then he pulled me to the middle of the cab and slammed his mouth down on mine.
So caught off guard, I sat frozen for a second. Then I caught up. I scrambled for him, climbing over the console, banging my knees on the way. My back collided with the roof, but I didn’t stop.
With his help, I made it to the driver’s seat, but the steering wheel was in my way. So I sat on it. My knees were shoved into his sides, my feet at odd angles. But I clung to him, sinking close, somehow managing to fit my tiny frame into the cramped space.
Not once as I wiggled and shifted did he let me go. Not once did he break away from my lips. Not once did he open his eyes.
He held tight as I came to him.
Then he held me, letting his tongue explore my mouth as he tried to fuse us together. We kissed until the windows were coated in steam. Until one of my feet had fallen asleep. Until I broke away, panting as I held his dark gaze.
“Did you mean it?” I whispered.
“Mean what?”
“That I was in your heart forever?”
He brushed a fallen hair from my forehead. “Am I the kind of man who says things he doesn’t mean?”
“No.”
“No.” He grinned. “I’m not.”
“I love you.”
He kissed me on the temple. “Love you too.”
I wanted our future to be full of those words. I wanted our children and grandchildren to see him kiss me on the temple so often they’d know it was his spot.
That was the future I wanted.
Did he?
“Dakota,” Sofia gasped as I slid inside of her.
Those dark eyes opened lazily, still clouded with sleep. She blinked a couple of times, then let them drift closed again. The corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile as she shifted her hips, making more room for me.
My lady loved to be woken up with my cock.
I grinned, easing out before thrusting in again, this time going all the way to the root.
Sofia moaned, her head pressing back into the pillow as she offered up her neck.
I latched my mo
uth on to the side, sucking hard and biting down hard enough it was going to leave a mark.
My mark.
While Sofia was mine, I wanted the world to know.
I slid my hands up her hips as I moved in and out of her tight heat. I traced the line of her ribs all the way past her breasts and to her shoulders. Then I stretched her arms up, pulling them straight above her head. With my fingers laced through hers, I pinned her hands to the mattress, trapping her beneath me.
This was the place. This, right here, was the best place in the world. I didn’t need to travel to find it.
When we were connected, all of the shit we still had to figure out disappeared. I could block it out and pretend this might last forever.
“Love you,” I whispered into her neck.
Sofia hummed, turning her smile to my ear. “I love you too.”
We’d been saying those words for two weeks now. They came first thing in the morning, when I woke Sofia up by making love to her, saying those words to start the day. I angled my hips, sending my cock deeper and pressing the root into her clit.
She shivered, her breath hitching as I eased off and did it again. Making her come was easier in the morning. I had no idea why, but she’d go off like a rocket. She would at night too, but it always took a few more of my tricks.
But like this, relaxed and pliable, she let go.
In the morning, the things we’d been ignoring for two weeks weren’t hanging over us. Yet. That goddamn cloud would settle around breakfast and haunt us for the rest of the day.
I eased out, gliding inside again just as Sofia wrapped her long, toned legs around my hips. She was flexible enough to hook her ankles around my back. It allowed me just enough space to build up some momentum and it angled her pussy so I was hitting her in the right spot every time.
“Harder,” she begged.
“No. Easy.” Today was all about easy. This morning was going to be about easy. Because later today, we had to start figuring things out. We’d put it off too long.
Sofia moaned, half protest, half agreement. Her hardened nipples rubbed against my chest, sliding in the sheen of sweat across my pecks. Her heart was pounding, the rose flush creeping up her neck, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she came.
Tinsel Page 25
