Dawson's Stand (Welcome to Covendale Book 4)

by Morgan Blaze

  “Of course not. I’ve been delivering your mail for a year.” Still smiling, she thrust a stack of envelopes at him. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” He took them and dropped the pile in the mailbox next to the door. “It’s not my day to check the mail, though. Mark would be disappointed if he didn’t get to do it. Usually it’s all for him, anyway.”

  “Really, Gage. Could you be any lazier?”

  He heard Kyla gasp a little at the sound of Jonah’s rumbling voice. “As a matter of fact, I could,” he said. “Want me to prove it?”

  “I’ll pass.” His brother actually smiled. “Are you going to introduce me?”

  “No. Go away.”

  Kyla laughed. “Let me guess,” she said. “You’re Jonah.”

  He nodded and raised an eyebrow. “Pretty good guess.”

  “Gage told me about you.”

  “Yeah? What’d he say?”

  “That you’re the oldest.” She smiled and approached him with a hand out. “Kyla Harding.”

  “Oh, sure,” Gage said. “He gets a last name.”

  “Well, it’s only fair. I already know his name.”

  Gage tried to contain himself as the two of them made small talk for a minute. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “Don’t you have something better to do, Jonah?”

  “Not really.” He smirked. “Nice to meet you, Kyla. I’d better leave you two alone, before Gage does something he’ll regret.”

  “Bro. Please.”

  “I’m going.” Shaking his head, Jonah headed inside.

  When he was gone, Kyla said, “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

  “Of Jonah? Never. There’s way too much of him for one woman.”

  She giggled. “You could be right. Your brother is…really big.”

  “Ugh. Don’t say it like that,” he groaned. “I never want to think about Jonah and big in that context.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, fighting a smirk.

  “Good.” He glanced at the house, hoping Jonah hadn’t decided that Mark needed an introduction too. “Hey, listen. While you’re here…uh, see, I was thinking…” Damn it. Why couldn’t he just spit it out? “I was thinking that a week is a long time,” he said.

  Oh, great. That was really smooth.

  Surprisingly, she smiled. “That’s funny,” she said. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Really?” Christ, his voice was practically squeaking. He cleared his throat hard, and said, “So, what are you doing tonight?”

  “Hopefully going on a real date.”

  “I can make that happen,” he said with a smile. “How do you feel about Chinese food?”

  Her eyes widened. “There’s a Chinese restaurant here?”

  “More or less. It’s just outside town.”

  “I haven’t had Chinese in forever,” she said. “I’d love to go.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

  She flashed a smile—and kissed him.

  He was speechless.

  “See you then.” She gave a little wave, then turned and headed down the yard toward the sidewalk.

  Gage stood there, gaping like an idiot, until she turned the corner and walked out of sight. Finally, he pulled himself together and went back to the garage. It was a miracle he hadn’t screwed this up yet. Now if only he could figure out what he was doing right, maybe he’d get lucky enough to have a second date.

  But he suspected that with her, a handful of dates wouldn’t be enough—and he was starting to think maybe forever wasn’t too long, after all.

  * * * *

  Covendale’s only Chinese restaurant didn’t look like much from the outside. Situated in an L-shaped strip mall and boasting a bright neon sign that read Happy Fun Chinese, the place seemed like a takeout store with a few tables in front, meant only for waiting. But when Gage told the lady behind the counter that they wanted to eat in, she led them past the register and around a corner to a spacious, beautiful dining room.

  Once again, they ended up with a corner booth. Kyla spent a few minutes looking around at the red carpet, the hanging lanterns, and the very Chinese décor—including a huge dragon fountain surrounded by plants in the middle of the room. “This is incredible,” she said. “It’s like a secret world back here.”

  Gage nodded. “This used to be storage for two different businesses,” he said. “The Chinese place was just the front area, but when the business next to them closed down, they rented both spaces and knocked a few walls down.”

  “I like it,” she said. “It’s unique.”

  “Definitely.”

  They turned their attention to the menu. When a waitress came to the table, Gage got beef peppersteak and an extra egg roll. Kyla ordered chicken lo mein and a side of crab rangoon. Her mouth was already watering as the waitress took the menus and left.

  “So, what else don’t I know about this town?” Kyla said.

  “Let’s see.” He smiled and cocked his head. “There really is a wrong side of the tracks. We actually have three stoplights, not two. One out of two grocery stores is ridiculously overpriced. Oh, and never tell Mrs. Carmichael anything you don’t want the whole town to know about.”

  She laughed. “Is that it?”

  “No, but it’s a start.” He reached for the bowl of weird-looking chips in the middle of the table and pulled it closer. “Try these,” he said. “They’re awesome.”

  “What are they?”

  “Fried noodles.”

  “Hm.” She picked one up, inspected it for a moment, and then popped it in her mouth. It was crunchy, greasy—and completely delicious. “Wow,” she said. “These might be better than Pete’s pies.”

  Gage faked a gasp. “That’s blasphemy.”

  “Okay. They’re second best.”

  Kyla could hardly believe this was actually happening. She’d fully intended to wait until next weekend, to really sort through her feelings before she went out with Gage again. But seeing him with his brother this morning had been so adorable, and then he’d stammered his way through asking her to make it tonight. So she took a chance—and told him the truth.

  She really hadn’t wanted to wait a whole week to see him again.

  “So…how are you doing?” Gage said.

  “Fine, I guess.” She frowned slightly. He seemed a bit more subdued than usual, like he was worried about something. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  When he didn’t say anything more, her concern grew. “Is there something on your mind?” she said.

  “Huh? No, I’m fine.” He stared into the distance for a moment, and then sighed and looked at her. “Maybe there is something,” he said. “Is this okay with you?”

  “What, the Chinese food?”

  He shook his head. “The company.”

  “You?” She smiled and almost reached for his hand, but thought better of it. “Of course it is. If I didn’t want to be here with you, I wouldn’t have come.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “It’s too fast, isn’t it?” he said. “I should’ve just waited. I mean, a week isn’t that long. I’d wait as long as it takes.”

  “Gage.” She waited until she had his attention. “What’s wrong, really?”

  “I don’t want to screw this up,” he blurted.

  “What?”

  He swallowed hard and stared at the table. “You. Us. What I mean is, I want there to be an us.” When he raised his head, there was a desperate apology in his eyes. “What everybody says about me…it’s not all lies. Some of it’s true.”

  A brief chill washed through her. “Like what?”

  “Well, like women. I’ve had a lot of relationships—no, that’s not the truth either.” His shoulders drooped. “I’ve been with a lot of women, but I’ve never had a relationship. Not a real one. And…I don’t want that to happen with you.” He stared at her with burning eyes. “I always screw everything up,” he said. “But I jus
t can’t this time. It’d kill me if I did.”

  She could hear the pain in his voice, the honesty behind his words. And it touched her beyond measure. If she had any lingering doubts that being with him was good and safe, they were gone now. “Don’t worry,” she said. “There’s no way you can screw this up.”

  “Yes, there is,” he said darkly. “Trust me. I’ll find a way.”

  This time she did take his hand, and he shivered at her touch. “Gage…I want there to be an us, too.”

  “You do?”

  He sounded so shocked, she couldn’t help laughing. “Yes, I do,” she said. “And I don’t care what everybody says about you, because they’re wrong.”

  He flashed a tentative smile. “Well, not about everything,” he said. “They say I’m stubborn, and they’re right about that.” His hand tightened on hers for an instant. “Because I’m never going to give up on you, even if I screw up. Fair warning.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No,” he said. “It’s a promise.”

  She smiled. “I can live with that.”

  Chapter 11

  After an amazing dinner, Gage brought her to a mini-golf course that was tucked behind the strip mall. She’d never played mini-golf before. Her scores were terrible—apparently in golf, the higher the score, the worse you’d played. But she had an absolute blast missing every hole at least four times, and usually more.

  It was just after midnight when they reached Kyla’s house. And she didn’t want the night to end yet.

  Gage had Luka’s car again. He parked behind her truck, and turned to her with a smile. “Thank you for tonight,” he said. “I’m glad we didn’t wait.”

  “Me, too.” She turned to him. “Walk me to the door?”

  “Of course.”

  As they got out of the car, she tried to calm her frantic nerves. She really wanted to invite him inside—but somehow it seemed harder than the first time. Maybe because she knew him better now. It was a bigger risk, because it would be so easy to fall for him.

  If she hadn’t already.

  They reached the door, and she suddenly realized how quiet it was out here. Everything was more densely packed toward the center of town, but her cottage was far enough away that the neighbors were spaced out, separated by plenty of trees and the occasional open space. She hadn’t considered it, but she had quite a bit of privacy here.

  Right now, that wasn’t a bad thing.

  “Well, here we are,” Gage said. “It seems like we’ve been here before, sometime…”

  She laughed. “Last night?”

  “That’s it. I knew this was familiar.”

  “Gage…” She bit her lip, and decided to just say it. “Would you like to come inside?”

  His mouth opened slightly, then he closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. “More than anything,” he said. “But…I don’t know if I should.”

  She nodded and looked away. The stab of disappointment was worse this time. “I understand,” she said.

  “Do you?” He took her hand and waited until she faced him again. “I told you earlier that I don’t want to screw this up,” he said. “And believe me, I want this to happen. So much that it hurts. But I can’t help thinking that you’re inviting me in because you’re supposed to—and I won’t take advantage of you.”

  She stared at him for a moment. “Take advantage of me?”

  “Apparently I’ve done that more than once,” he said. “Ask just about any woman in town. Or in Greenway, or Valley Ridge…everybody knows what I am. A no-good Dawson.” He shook his head slowly. “I’m the guy they want to scratch an itch with, when they’re between decent men.”

  A faint stirring of anger rose in her—not toward him, but everyone who’d treated him this way for who knows how long. “Really,” she said. “Well if that’s true, then I’m a weak and helpless doormat who’s only good for being the requisite pretty face at social events. And my ex-husband is a real down-to-earth guy who’s practically a saint for taking care of me, because without him I’d just be sitting in a corner somewhere drooling all over myself.”

  “What?” he rasped.

  “That’s what they say about me,” she said. “So if you’re some horrible plague on humanity, then I am too.” She huffed a breath and planted a hand on her hip. “Or maybe we could forget about what everybody else says, and think for ourselves.”

  His eyes darkened. He stared at her for so long that she started to think she’d gone too far, said too much.

  Then he kissed her.

  A startled gasp quickly gave way to pure sensation, and she returned the kiss with as much heat as he gave. Nothing in her life had ever felt so right. He pulled back, and every part of her protested strongly—until he murmured, “I’d love to come in, if it’s not too late to change my mind.”

  “Never.” Her smile felt like it would split her face. She fumbled her keys from her purse, unlocked the door, and grabbed his hand to lead him inside.

  The light switch was near the entrance, and she flipped it on to bathe the living room in a warm glow. Her whole body still buzzed from the kiss, and the primal part of her mind insisted that she skip the small talk and head for the couch, right now. But that would be rude. She took a few calming breaths and turned to him. “Do you want something to drink?” she said. “I’ve got a bottle of wine. It’s not exactly top-shelf, but—”

  His mouth on hers cut her off, leaving her breathless. “Can I tell you what I really want?” he said.

  “Yes,” she half-whispered.

  “A very short tour. From here to your bed.”

  Her legs weakened with desire, threatening to drop her where she stood. “Good idea,” she managed. “This way.”

  She brought him to the bedroom. Somehow they managed to get the door closed, and stumbled across the room locked in an embrace. Dimly she realized she hadn’t made the bed that morning—but Gage didn’t seem to notice, or care. In the middle of a heated kiss, he lifted her and laid her on the bed, then climbed in after her.

  Pressed alongside her, with one solid arm draped across her waist, he treated her to a long and languid kiss that filled her with a slow burn. His thumb stroked her side, slipped beneath her shirt to graze her skin. The contact was a live wire.

  When he drew back for breath, she gasped. He smiled and straddled her, bending down to place a tender kiss on her forehead. “I want to do this right,” he said. “Take it slow. Because I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”

  “Me, neither,” she said. “I live here.”

  “I noticed. This place is a lot like you.”

  She giggled. “How could you tell? You hardly saw any of it.”

  “Well.” He eased down and kissed her. “It’s not very big from the outside. But it’s full of warmth and light, and every part of it is beautiful.”

  “Are you saying I’m like a house?”

  His low laughter vibrated deliciously through her. “No, you’re definitely all woman,” he said, cupping her face gently. “The most incredible woman I’ve ever met. And I’m not sure I deserve you.”

  She smiled. “Flattery will get you pretty far.”

  “Good. Because I’ve got plenty more where that came from.” He brushed his lips against hers, traced her jaw line with his fingertips. His hand moved slowly down, trailing along her neck and down her ribs. Another long kiss, with his weight pressed against her, left her panting.

  He straightened and pulled his shirt off, leaning back slightly to regard her with a hungry gaze. God, he really was beautiful. Bronzed skin over toned muscle, all hard and sculpted lines. A thin trail of black hair started below his navel and vanished into his jeans. She reached out and stroked it—and he sucked in a sharp breath.

  Her eyes widened. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” He shuddered once. “Christ, what you do to me,” he whispered. “I didn’t know it was possible to feel this much.”

  “Funny,” she whispered back. “That’s
what I was thinking.”

  He groaned and bent to her, claiming her mouth with fiery passion. She reached for him, stroked his skin, feeling every rigid line of him. Then he was tugging at her shirt, and she lifted to let him pull it over her head. He slid an arm around her, keeping her semi-upright as he kissed the hollow of her throat, the top of her breast.

  His lips grazed her nipple through her bra, and she arched up in surprise as a bolt of heat moved through her. Then he kissed the other one, a hard nub pressed against the material. She couldn’t help gasping.

  Without a word, he urged her to take her pants off. She slid them down and kicked free, eager to move forward. A distant part of her realized it had never been like this with Mike—they’d rarely had sex, and when they did it was perfunctory. Tab A, slot B, removing as little clothing as possible.

  She stomped the memories ruthlessly, and returned her attention to Gage.

  “Perfect,” he rasped. “Everything about you is perfect.” He unhooked her bra deftly and slid the straps down her arms—and then froze, drawing a shaking breath as the material came away. Faint horror washed through his features. “Oh, God,” he said. “What did he do to you?”

  For a split second she was dizzy with confusion. Then she remembered the scar. She hadn’t looked at it in so long, she’d almost forgotten it was there—curving from the center of her chest beneath one breast, and trailing off around the side. Mike had a real thing for knives. Wearing a bra mostly hid the scar, but now it was in full, hideous view.

  She grabbed reflexively for a blanket. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “I just—”

  “No.” He took her wrist gently, before she could cover herself. “I’m sorry. I gave you the wrong idea.” He touched the start of the scar with his free hand, and said, “The man who did this to you is a monster. Just the thought that someone hurt you—well, it makes me sick.” His expression grew somber. “Did he…”

  Somehow she understood what he was asking. “No,” she said. “He never abused me sexually. He wasn’t very interested in that.”

  “In that case, he’s a monster and a fool.” The warmth of his smile filled her to the core. “Let me show you how it’s supposed to be.”