I consider that passage and what it says about Tyler. I can definitely feel those words in the encounters I’ve had with both men. Interesting though that his mother left the company when she wants to control her husband. I flip to another random page further back, closer to that ominous final entry and my heart thunders in my chest at the first two words: Dash Black.
Dash Black.
I saw him today for the first time since THAT night.
What can I say? Yes, he’s hot. Yes, he’s talented. Yes, he changed my life. But not in a good way.
He made secrets feel like they needed to stay secrets. He made being humans appear dangerous, not real. He hurt me and I haven’t been in the same room as him for more than about a half-hour of my life. After THAT night, that miserable night, everything changed. I should probably write about it, but it’s hard to even think about. Did Dash mean to hurt me? No. But I still can’t forgive him. I just can’t.
My hand is trembling because even though I’d know what night she’s talking about even if Dash hadn’t told me, I’d think there was more to it. And it’s hard to hear Allison blame Dash for her split with Tyler. Tyler wasn’t able to break up me and Dash. Neither of us let that happen. But Tyler let it happen with Allison.
“I see you’re working late, Ms. Wright.”
My gaze lifts to find Tyler standing in my doorway, one shoulder hitched on the frame. In that moment, I see what it was that Allison saw in Tyler. He’s a beautiful man. His jaw strong, his face handsome, his body fit. His energy is all power and masculinity. And deep in his striking eyes, I can see what I didn’t always see in Tyler. Dash described him as “fucked up.” I’ll just call him a tormented man. And I don’t always like how that torment influences my life and career.
It’s then that I realize the journal is open on my desk, in plain sight, and if anyone would know who it belongs to, it would be Tyler.
“You have something to say to me, Ms. Wright?”
The “Ms. Wright” is what triggers me. I shut the journal, stick it in my drawer and I don’t just stand up. I walk around my desk and stand in front of him. “Allie,” I snap. “My name is Allie. And since you have inserted yourself into my personal life, and I guess to some extent I have yours, we are borderline friends. Therefore, I will say this. You know what your problem is?”
He arches a brow. God, he reminds me of Mark at times. “Why do I know what you’re about to tell me?” he asks dryly.
“You use things like ‘Ms. Wright’ to shut people out when they get too close to you. And don’t tell me that’s just business because we both know it runs deeper than that. For whatever reason, you don’t trust people. Well, you can trust me, but you need to make sure I can trust you. While you try to protect yourself, you don’t always protect those around you. You hurt them. Speaking of which, do something to make-up with Dash. And I’m not going to work for you, ever. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay on as an employee of Riptide only. I hope you can live with that because I want to be here. And—that’s all.”
His lips twitch. “I do believe I didn’t give you credit where credit is due, Allie. You can stay on at Riptide. Goodnight.” He starts to back out of the office.
“Don’t leave,” I order.
He turns back to me, that eyebrow raised. “Yes, Allie?”
“She loved you, Tyler. Really loved you. If you love her—”
“I do,” he shocks me by saying, his voice raw, gravelly. “But it’s too late.”
With that, he leaves, and there’s no calling him back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
When I exit the building, Dash immediately pulls me into his arms, walks me out of the doorway, and kisses me until I’m too hot to feel the cold. “What was that for?” I ask when we come up for air. “You know people follow you with cameras?”
“I don’t give two shits what people do. Just you. I missed you today.”
My lips curve of their own compulsion. “You just saw me a couple hours ago.”
“I know. It’s kind of crazy. I never missed anyone in a couple hours before you, Allie.”
“If you’re trying to sweep me off my feet, Mr. Black, you had me at cupcake.”
He laughs, low and sexy. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” I say and just when I’m about to tell him all my news about my job, Mark, Tyler, and even Queen Compton, we hear, “What are you two doing?”
At the sound of Bella’s voice, we break apart and she grins at us. “I do love you two love birds.” She sighs. “One day maybe I’ll meet someone as wonderful as Dash who is not my brother. For now, you two have to keep me company.”
It’s right then that cameras do indeed start flashing. Wonderful. Dash motions us to the door and in a crush of people we step inside, where Bella motions to a security guard. Dash calls for a car, and the three of us stand there, watching the building staff handle the problem.
Bella glances at me. “Wait until the next book, movie, or TV show.”
I eye Dash and he nods. “She’s right. But it comes in waves. Today that article was the trigger.”
Bella grins. “Because my brother is famous.” She glances at me and moves seamlessly to another topic. “What do I bring for Thanksgiving?”
“Oh, please,” I say. “Nothing. My mom goes way overboard with food.”
“Well, what does she like? I’ll bring a gift.”
“Candles. She loves candles.”
“Candles it is.” She smiles.
A thought has me looking at Dash. “What if they got pictures of us kissing?”
“I’m sure they did. And why does it matter? The world knows we’re together now, Allie.”
“Woo,” Bella says. “I hope Brandon sees and eats his little heart out.”
Exactly where my head is at right now. Brandon is not a man to be goaded and take it well.
“Our car is here,” Dash says, “and so is yours, Bella.”
Bella waves to the guard and with his help and that of a police officer, we exit the building as a couple of reporters shout questions at Dash. Once we’re in the car, which is not an Uber but a private hire, Dash says, “Home, Evans.”
“You got it, Dash.” The man eyes me over the seat. “Evening.”
I greet him and sink into the leather seat. Dash tangles his fingers with mine and says, “He’s handled, baby. I promise.”
He reads me even better than I read one of his brilliant novels. I touch his cheek. “I hope so.”
He kisses my hand. “He’s handled,” he repeats. His confidence is contagious, and I choose to believe him. Because I trust Dash. And because today is the day I choose to be happy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Dash and I enter our apartment and he helps me with my coat and bag, shrugs out of his own coat, and then just that fast, I’m against the door and he’s kissing me. God, how he’s kissing me. Deep strokes of his tongue, the press of his hands on my body, the press of his hips to my hips, his erection against my belly.
“Did I mention how much I wanted to be inside you all afternoon?” he asks, his eyes heavy-lidded, his voice rough with desire. “Did I mention how much I always want to be inside you?”
“No, but feel free to show me,” I say, and that’s exactly what he does.
My shirt is off in a blink and so is his. Thick-roped muscle teases my hands. My bra is dragged down, his eyes ravishing my exposed breasts, my puckered nipples. He drags my skirt up my hips and in a rush of us both grabbing at his pants, they’re down. We don’t stop until we’re both naked, until my leg is at his hip and he’s pressing inside me, thick, hard, and oh so good. I’m panting when he cups my face and says, “He’s never going to hurt you again.”
“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”
“Good. You’re mine now.”
I smile and say, “Yes. Yes, I am.”
I’d tell him he’s mine, too, but he’s kissing me again, cupping my backside and driving into me, him at my
front, the door at my back. Our breathing fills the room. His hair wraps my fingers. Sensations rock my body.
Dash shifts and turns me, walking toward the couch, where he sits down and then I’m on top of him. I’m straddling him, my hands catching on his shoulders, fingers flexing. Our eyes lock, and he says, “God, woman why do you always make me feel like I’ve been waiting for this all my life?” He cups my head and drags my mouth closer. “I’m yours too, Allie. You know that, right?”
There are times when I think Dash will never be all mine, and another woman isn’t the problem. His self-hate is, but right now is not one of those moments. There is a pull between us, magnetic, intense, and I whisper, “Yes,” overwhelmed with all the crazy sensations this man makes me feel.
I press my lips to his and he moans, a low, rough masculine sound, his tongue a sultry slide against my tongue, and then we are swaying, moving together, loving and fucking, and all over each other. A rush of movement. Then slow. Fast. Repeat. Our lips part, our breaths mingling, before we erupt into wildness again. And I don’t want this to end. I don’t want it to end. Ever. I don’t want anything but him and us, and yes, forever with Dash. But even if we are forever, this cannot be. Passion roars between us and the fierceness of our need for each other and ultimate satisfaction can only be tamed so long. Dash drags me down and thrusts hard. My body spasms around him. I tumble into one of the most intense, body-quaking orgasms of my life.
I bury my face in his shoulder. He wraps his arm around my waist, thrusting again, a low, rough, aroused sound sliding from his lips as he quakes beneath me.
Clinging to him, I’m panting and he’s panting as we collapse into each other, our bodies intimately close. As time comes back to me, my mind begins to replay all that happened today and I want him to know everything, and I want him to know now. “I went to see Tyler,” I say, and when I would push back to look at him, he has already reacted.
“Do not say that man’s name while I’m inside you, Allie.” He rolls me to my back, reaches to the end table, and hands me a tissue.
“Dash.”
“I’m serious, Allie. Bad fucking timing. Take it,” he says of the tissue.
He’s angry and I feel horrible. He’s right. I just really blew a special moment I was trying to make more special, but he’s being ultra-sensitive about Tyler as well. I quickly grab the tissue, and stuff it between my legs the best I can. He’s already moving off of me, sitting up and I sit up, too, but I take it one step further. I slide off the couch to my knees in front of him. “Sorry. That was the wrong thing to start with. I was going to say—well, let me backtrack completely. Today I realized that you never asked me to leave New York or my job for you. You were willing to go there for me. I’m leaving because it’s what I want. I’m not going to ask you to leave Nashville for me, even part of the time.”
“I would do anything for you, Allie. You know that.”
Relief washes over me at that remark that says he’s mad, but still present. “Yes,” I say. “I do know. And that you would means the world to me. So back to what I was trying to tell you and did so badly. Tyler said I need to be in or out, with my job and you. That wasn’t bad advice. He was right about that, Dash, but you know my response. I said to him, I’m all in with Dash. I’m all in and I want you to know that. Home is with you.”
He softens his shoulders, his expression, his voice, but I hold up a hand. “Listen, please. I called Mark today. He offered to let me stay on as a contract scout. I told Tyler he either lets me work for Riptide or I won’t work for Hawk Legal anymore at all. He agreed to let me stay on as a member of Riptide. I’m not sure after today how much working at home I can do for this tightly scheduled auction, but after this auction, things change. I’m going to try and make that be a remote job, working from home or with you wherever we need to travel, if you want me to travel with you,” I add quickly.
Dash lifts me back onto his lap, straddling me, his hand pressed between my shoulder blades. “I always want you with me, but are you sure this is what you want?”
“Very, very sure. I’m sorry I said Tyler’s name. I was just excited to tell you everything and for once he said something that felt right.”
“I overreacted. I’m sorry for that and I’m sorry for a lot of things, baby. Everything in New York. That night here. Hell yes, travel with me. Stay with me.”
“That means the good, bad, and ugly, Dash.”
“I know that, baby. I’m all in, just like you, but I don’t promise you I won’t want to fight. I just promise you, this time, I’ll choose you.”
And for the first time, I believe I’ve seen enough for him to let me see the worst. When the time is right, and there will be a right time, we’ll ride out the storm together.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The next day I meet Millie Roberts from the charity for coffee at her office to discuss the guestlist for the auction, invitations, and much more. It’s near noon when I arrive at the office and as William Shakespeare said, “Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.” I feel late today, anxious to get things moving.
“Oh my God, Allie,” is how Katie greets me, and does so looking adorable in a polka-dotted blouse and a flared skirt. “The donations keep coming in but we don’t have time to validate them.”
“November fifteenth is the cutoff date for this year,” I say, finally sitting down behind my desk for the first time today, “and even that’s pushing it,” I add. “Let them know that I’ll now be handling year-round auctions for the charity or otherwise. I can personally call everyone who needs one-on-one attention, but try and get me as many details as you can on what they’re looking to auction.”
“Wait,” Katie says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re staying? Tell me you’re staying here with us?”
“I am staying,” I confirm, “but I’ll be back on the Riptide payroll as of January one, working here with Hawk Legal and their clients.” I hope that’s how this works, I think silently, but decide I’ll figure it out later. Someone will pay me. I’m really not worried about that particular point.
“So, you’re basically working for Riptide and Hawk. My God, talk about a dream job.” She does this little bow thing over and over and backs out of the office with a grin, as she adds. “Queen Allie.”
No, I think. I am not the queen. That title is taken and well deserved. But this is a dream job and I made it happen. I’m proud of myself. And on that note, being a protégée to said queen has worked up an appetite. I’m starving—quite literally my stomach is growling. Having already warned Dash I have to stay in today for lunch, I scoop up some work and head to the cafeteria. It’s a good half hour later when I’m at a table, scarfing my food, and pecking away at my keyboard when someone sits down in front of me. I blink with the realization that it’s Benjamin.
“Hello, Allison,” he says.
As with yesterday, his suit is expensive, and his eyes are a bit too probing. The crinkles by his eyes and the gray in his dark hair I’d been too busy guarding the journal last time to notice tell me he’s mid-forties not mid-thirties. Not that the gray doesn’t suit him. Men always get away with that older, distinguished, worldly look, while women just get out the hair dye. Or we don’t know we’re gray because we already had out the hair dye and we’d prefer it that way.
“Allie,” I say. “Call me Allie.”
“I’ve asked my secretary, Jessica, to get in touch with you this afternoon and offer her aid. I’m going to be traveling soon while she is not.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
“And yet, it is,” he says. “I must admit I’m intrigued by the auction. This is not something we’ve done for our clients in the past. Last year was an informal event and we certainly didn’t have Riptide involved. On that note, I’ll also admit I’d like to be a part of what I believe to be a leg up for Hawk Legal. This is a service no one else is offering their clients. That we’re partnering with Riptide means it’s not likely to be duplica
ted.”
“You know about Riptide,” I comment.
“I’ve been asking questions since meeting you, Allie. I won’t get that wrong again. No more Allison. You might look like her, but you most definitely are not her.”
My brows furrow. “What does that mean?”
“Well, for one thing, she’s gone, and I understand you’ll be staying.”
“Most people are surprised she’s gone.”
“I’m not,” he says. “Not at all.” His cellphone rings and he pulls back his jacket, snagging his phone from an inner pocket. After a glance at the caller ID, he says, “Gotta take this. It’s a studio exec.” He winks and gives me a two-finger wave, and then he’s on his feet, answering his call, and walking away.
I watch him leave and wonder why he isn’t surprised that Allison is gone when everyone else seems to be. Well, except Tyler, who was sleeping with her. I grab my phone and text Dash: Any word from Neil? Especially on Benjamin? I just had a weird encounter with him.
Dash calls me. I answer and he says, “Do you know how much I don’t want you in that place right now?”
“I wouldn’t know you if it weren’t for this place.”
“But you do now. What happened?”
I replay the conversation. He’s silent a moment and then says, “I haven’t heard from Neil, but I left him a message this morning.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t like any of it, Allie.”
“We’re doing good things to help people, Dash—you and me and the charity.”
“I’ll happily donate whatever you think the auction will make to get you out of this.”
“Up to five hundred thousand.”
“Okay. I’ll write the damn check.”
I sometimes forget how rich Dash is because he doesn’t flaunt his money. “It’s only a month, Dash. After that, I can work from home, at least most of the time. And hopefully, Neil will find Allison.” I glance up to find Katie walking toward me. “Katie is looking panicked. I need to go.”
When I Say Yes Page 13
