Dare to Love: A Sweet Contemporary Romance (Finding Love Book 4)

by Delaney Cameron

  His words ground to a halt as he watched a tear slip out of the corner of her eye and slowly run down her cheek. “And selfish. And uncalled for,” he finished as he watched another tear join the first. He forced his feet to move forward. After laying her on the mattress, he gently wiped her face with the pad of his thumb and pulled the sheet over her. “I wish you’d say something even if it’s, ‘You’re a jerk, and I hate you’.”

  Sabrina smiled that smile again, and Trent’s knees were in danger of buckling.

  “It wasn’t dumb or selfish or uncalled for. It was nice; really, really nice.”

  He rubbed the back of her hand against his cheek, wincing at the heat coming off her skin. “I should have known. You’re delirious with fever. If I’m lucky, you won’t remember any of this tomorrow. I won’t be able to forget it, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t, by the way. That’s another of those things you should probably forget.”

  She laughed weakly. “I don’t remember you talking this much after a kiss.”

  “If I keep talking, there’s less chance that I’ll do it again. You need to go back to sleep. I’m going to make a quick trip home, but I’ll be back in less than twenty minutes.”

  As Trent walked to his car, he realized that love is like being in a free fall without a parachute: no one can save you, and there’s no chance of returning to the plane. He wasn’t just falling in love with Sabrina; he was in love with her, and there was no going back. He wanted the privilege of loving her today and every day for the rest of his life.

  * * * * *

  Sabrina listened to Trent’s retreating footsteps and then the click of the door being closed. How did he expect her to sleep? Her lips still carried the warmth of his gentle kiss; her hand still trembled from contact with his cheek; and her body still throbbed from being held tightly against him.

  His first kiss all those years ago had awakened her to passion; this one had rekindled a love she thought was gone. She’d told herself she was free of him, but falling out of love isn’t as easy as falling into it. Love doesn’t knock politely on the door of your heart and wait to be asked inside. It slips through the cracks unnoticed and takes over. And once it takes up residence there, it’s almost impossible to remove. Unlike infatuation, love isn’t dependent on the recipient’s behavior or limited by such concerns as time and proximity. Love just is.

  Sabrina wasn’t asleep when Trent returned. She heard his stealthy entrance and then his voice talking to someone in a low murmur.

  “I’ll let you out as soon as I move a few things out of your reach. I can’t have you chewing up everything here like you do at our house.”

  There was the merest squeak of a cage door. He’d gone back for Butterscotch.

  “You would find the laundry basket. Bring me that!” Trent chuckled. “I realize you’ve never seen one of these before, but you have no use for it and pink isn’t your color.”

  Sabrina was glad Trent couldn’t see her face. This is what she got for leaving her unfolded laundry in the living room.

  Sometime after that, she fell back asleep, but it wasn’t for long. The nausea she’d felt earlier returned. A low moan slipped from her lips. As faint as it was, Trent heard it. He was beside her bed in a matter of seconds.

  “Feeling sick again?”

  At her nod, he helped her up, and then sat down next to her so she could lean against him, his arm draped loosely around her waist. A few hours ago she would have died rather than have him see her like this. Now it seemed natural for him to be here. His tenderness and concern had eased her discomfort and embarrassment just as his kiss had removed any possibility of denying his place in her heart.

  After what seemed like a long time, but was actually only a few minutes, the dreadful feeling of urgency faded and she was able to lie down again.

  “Do you want me to rub your back?” he offered as he stood looking down at her.

  “You’ve done enough already.”

  “Save your energy for getting better. I’m here so I might as well make myself useful.”

  She rolled over without another word and felt the light pressure of his hand moving back and forth across her back. His touch was infinitely soothing, the slow rhythmic strokes making it difficult to stay awake. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Just before she fell asleep, she felt his fingers running through her hair. “That’s nice,” she mumbled.

  She wasn’t sure if he heard her or not. In any case, he didn’t answer. When she woke up again, she was alone and the sun was shining brightly through the window, which meant she’d actually slept several hours. She moved cautiously into a sitting position.

  “You’re awake,” he said, walking through the door.

  Sabrina was suddenly aware of how good Trent looked and how horrible she must look. Her make-up had to be long gone and her hair was all over the place. She was surprised he didn’t run from the room. “And you’re still here.”

  “It appears so. That must mean something.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “Your fever is down; that’s a good sign. How do you feel otherwise?” he asked, sitting down on the end of the bed.

  “My head still hurts, but my stomach feels better.”

  “How about some hot tea?”

  “I’ll try some, but after you fix it, you’re leaving.”

  His eyes widened comically. “You’re kicking me out? Just like that? I was just a three-hour fever-induced fling?”

  Sabrina prodded him with her foot. “It’s Thanksgiving. Your family is expecting you.”

  “Actually, they’re not. I told them I was spending the holiday with a lady friend.”

  “Please tell me that’s not true, Trent.”

  A wicked grin played around his mouth. “But it is true. When I explained how you left the door open for me and then practically fell into my arms, they understood.”

  “Don’t forget this.” She pointed to her nightgown. “I even dressed for the part.”

  “I’ll say. And then that kiss; so hot. I’m talking, burning me up hot.”

  His kissing her when she looked her absolute worst was something she’d never forget. “That’s what you get when you kiss a girl with a fever.”

  “I’m not complaining, am I? I’ll go fix your tea.”

  As she watched him go, a long sigh escaped her. It wasn’t easy to find out she’d been wrong about something she believed for so long, but then again, the truth isn’t always palatable. She wasn’t still single because she couldn’t find anyone. She was alone because she couldn’t have the one she wanted.

  * * * * *

  While he waited for the hot water to boil, Trent decided to fix some toast. If Sabrina could be persuaded to eat, bread would be something easy to digest. If she didn’t want it, it wouldn’t go to waste between him and Butterscotch.

  He’d been afraid that when she woke up again, the closeness they’d achieved earlier would be lost. But to his delight and surprise, this didn’t appear to be the case. Sabrina hadn’t forgotten the kiss, and she didn’t appear to be upset with him for doing it. She even responded to his teasing comments with some of her own. This was heady stuff considering where they’d been forty-eight hours ago.

  She wasn’t in the bed when he returned. He set the tray on the nightstand, his glance going to the closed bathroom door. Should he leave and come back? Before he could decide, the door opened and she walked out. Her hair hung in a loose braid over her shoulder. The flannel nightgown had been replaced with a loose-fitting t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. There was nothing provocative about it and yet he couldn’t look away.

  “Your tea is ready. I made some toast, too, if you want to try it.”

  “You think of everything, don’t you?” she asked, going past him to sit down on the bed.

  He laughed. “I’m trying to, but thinking requires detachment. That’s not so easy when you’re around. If the tea’s too hot, let me know and I’ll get an ice cube.”

  Sabrina drank two cups of tea and ate
half a piece of toast. When he went to take the cup from her, their fingers touched. Her skin was warmer than it was supposed to be which meant her fever was going back up. Time for more medicine.

  At her insistence, they moved to the couch in the living room. Butterscotch settled into the space between them. When Trent noticed her getting tired, he moved the puppy to the floor and drew Sabrina into his arms. Expecting to meet some resistance, he was surprised when she curled up against him like a sleepy kitten, tucking her head under his chin.

  This evidence of trust threatened to bring his heart right out of his chest. Words of love formed on his lips, but this wasn’t the time to speak them. The strings binding them together were still too fragile. While he was sure of his own feelings, he didn’t have a clue about hers. Would this new intimacy between them last once Sabrina was herself again? Or would things revert to the way they’d been?

  * * * * *

  Sabrina lay in Trent’s arms, content to feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. In spite of her general discomfort, there was a sense of having returned to where she belonged. She shifted slightly, wanting to look at him. That movement brought his gaze straight to her face. He said nothing for a few seconds, and then he smiled. It was the same mischievous, inviting smile he’d given her that night in the library. It had captivated her then, and it did so now. How was it possible to fall in love with someone she’d never stopped loving in the first place?

  “Did the television wake you?” he asked finally.

  She hadn’t even heard it. She’d been too busy counting his heartbeats. “No.”

  “Do you want more tea?”

  She wanted him to kiss her again. It had done more good than all of the pills she’d taken or the few hours of sleep she’d managed. “Maybe later.”

  “Your fever seems to be staying down. How’s your headache?”

  “Almost gone.”

  “And the nausea?”

  “Much better. I think the toast helped.”

  “I can make some more. Just let me know.”

  “I will. I feel bad that you missed Thanksgiving with your family.”

  “Are we still discussing that?”

  “We have to discuss it. You gave up your holiday to stay here with me. I can’t just ignore that.” She absently smoothed a wrinkle in his shirt. She was immediately aware of the sudden stillness in his body, and then the slight clearing of his throat. The arms around her tightened.

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now,” he said softly.

  Her eyes flew to his. Something in them must have told him that she felt the same. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, coaxing a response from her she couldn’t deny. Sabrina lost herself in his kiss. Being in his arms was exhilarating. And so very familiar. Beneath her hand, she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. Her breath hitched, lodged in her lungs. She didn’t want to break the magic of this moment. She wanted it to go on forever.

  * * * * *

  It was the sigh that escaped her throat, the one mixed with uncertainty and longing, that removed the last of Trent’s self-imposed restraint. He trailed his lips over her jaw, her earlobe, only to return to her warm and willing lips again. The smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, and the taste of her lips were just as he remembered and yet subtly, excitingly, different. Was it because this time he was reacting to her as a man in love?

  He drew away from her slowly, watching as her eyes opened, those pools of blue so lovely he wanted to dive into them. He traced her lips with his fingertip. “I’ve missed that.”

  “It appears I’ve missed it, too,” she whispered, making them both smile.

  He drew in a deep breath and took her hand in his. “Even so, I can’t help thinking I’m taking advantage of the situation. You should be resting, and I should be able to exercise some self-control.”

  “That fact that you feel any guilt at all about what just happened proves that you’d never take advantage of the situation. You’re not that kind of guy.”

  “I wasn’t always this…considerate.”

  “I can remember quite a few times when you were.”

  He laughed shortly. “And just as many when I wasn’t. I wish I could go back and cut out all the times I hurt you.”

  “Life isn’t about removing the bad parts; it’s about using those experiences to become a better person. It’s taken me six years to understand that I can’t move forward if I’m always looking back.”

  “You have only one mistake to regret, Sabrina. I have so many more.”

  “You weren’t a mistake. I don’t regret that time I spent with you.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because even if it was pretend, you made me happy. I think that’s why it was so devastating when I found out it wasn’t real.”

  He cradled her hand to his cheek. “I’d like the chance to make it real. Will you let me? Or is it truly too late for us?”

  She looked at him, her blue eyes misty with tears. “I want to trust you; I really do. But there’s still a part of me that’s afraid of what will happen if I do. I don’t think I could live through something like that again.”

  “I understand. The burden is on me to make you believe in me again.” He kissed her fingers and then let her go. “We’ve done enough talking. It’s time for me to put my caregiver’s hat back on.” He gently lifted her away from him, feeling suddenly bereft without the warmth of her next to him. “I’m going to make some more tea and toast.”

  She laughed. “Two things you probably never fix at your house.”

  He stood up and stretched. “You’re right about the tea, but I do like toast; with lots of grape jelly. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Once in the kitchen, Trent refilled the tea kettle and took a slow steadying breath. Was it possible that his mother was right? Was he the one who could heal Sabrina’s heart?

  * * * * *

  Sabrina watched Trent walk away, wishing she could switch from personal to impersonal as effortlessly. Her pulse rate had barely recovered from those mind-numbing kisses when he made that startling statement about wanting to make it real. The warmth in his eyes mingled with the passion in his voice had completed the assault on her heart. That traitorous organ was poised to wave the proverbial white flag, conveniently forgetting the treatment it received before.

  Her head wasn’t so easily convinced. Sabrina wasn’t that naïve girl anymore, untouched by hurt and free of fear. She knew the anguish of having her belief and trust in someone used against her. Trent said he wanted a second chance, but was he simply getting carried away by nostalgia and the whole idea of rekindling an old romance? Or was he serious this time? He’d made no mention of love, and he hadn’t meant it when he said it before.

  Whether from her physical ailments or her emotional state, she was too tired to figure it all out now. She spent most of the afternoon dozing on the couch. Trent made endless cups of hot tea, went to the store for more medicine, fixed her anything she thought she might like to eat, and entertained Butterscotch. When he wasn’t doing that, he sat with her on the couch, holding her hand, or just holding her in his arms. What he didn’t do was kiss her again.

  By late evening, Sabrina was feeling almost normal. During one of the commercial breaks in the football game they were watching, she told him so.

  “I think whatever I caught has run its course.”

  “It might have been one of those twenty-four-hour virus things. I’m glad you’re better, even if it means you don’t need me anymore.”

  “You’re not driving to St. Marys tonight, are you?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going until Saturday morning. It’s my niece’s birthday; the party starts at three. If you can stand to have my company again, I’d like to see you tomorrow.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll feel up to going anywhere.”

  “That’s okay. We can do just what we did today. How early can I show up?”

  “Won’t you be bored?”


  “I won’t be bored. I’m still waiting on a time.”

  “Any time after ten.”

  Trent fingered the end of her braid. “You’ll call me if you start to feel sick again, right?”

  She smiled faintly. “I’d be foolish not to.” She reached over and clasped his hand. “I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done. I would have been in a real mess if you hadn’t shown up.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It was my pleasure, Sabrina.”

  Chapter Nine

  Trent gulped down his glass of iced tea. How had he forgotten that the bowl on his right contained the spicy dip? Because he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Sabrina long enough to pay attention to what he was doing. “Whew, that was really hot,” he said as he wiped his forehead with a napkin.

  “I thought you knew what you were doing.”

  “I did, too, but my mouth says otherwise. I won’t be able to taste anything else for days.” Or feel her lips when he kissed her later.

  “Do you want to try milk? It’s supposed to have something in it that helps take away that burning sensation.”

  “I think I will.” It was worth a try, if only for the sake of that not-so-distant kiss.

  Sabrina got up from the table and poured him a glass.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking it from her. “Is Madeline cooking for James again?”

  “No, they went to that fancy restaurant downtown. You know, the one with four waiters for every table. One of her professors is the head chef. She finally talked James into taking her.”

  “It’s called Citron. I’ve been there several times for business dinners. I don’t care much for that sophisticated food. For one thing, the portions are so small that I leave hungrier than when I went in.”

  “I’m not sure I could relax in a place like that. I’d be too afraid of using the wrong fork or something.”

  Trent chuckled. “Remember when we ate dinner at that lodge near Hiawassee. The waiter kept coming up and brushing the crumbs off the table every ten seconds.”