Return to the Island (Island Duet Book 2)

Home > Romance > Return to the Island (Island Duet Book 2) > Page 16
Return to the Island (Island Duet Book 2) Page 16

by L. B. Dunbar


  28

  Juliet

  I crawled into bed, Tack following me. My emotions were conflicted, and I was exhausted. Our love making had been passionate as always, but I struggled to stay focused. I shivered with the thought of Rory touching me, my mind racing with evil memories, seeing Tack in my memories. His eyes over me then. Each time I scrambled back to the past, my heart pulled me forward. His eyes under me in the present, looking at me, like he did tonight. Lost. Confused. Hesitant. I couldn’t look at him. In my head, I blamed him. In my heart, I didn’t.

  I didn’t understand all that happened, but I wanted to. I understood wanting parental approval, even without having parents for years, but he didn’t need it. Not when they couldn’t see he’d atoned. He was changed. He was better. Tack was a success in his own right. He didn’t need them, but I still understood he wanted their acceptance all the same.

  My mind raced, and I just wanted it to stop running. My eyes finally closed but I couldn’t sleep. Tack was a demon in my head, but he was also the man who chased away those monsters as he held me, reassuring me with his love, his touch, his words, it would never happen again. He’d protect me. He’d cherish me. But what did I give to him?

  “Will I be enough for you?” I asked. I felt him shift behind me, rising up on an elbow and resting his chin on my shoulder. I spun to bury my face in his chest.

  “I used to think I imagined you. I believed in what I wrote in my dissertation. You were a vision provided for me to control, conquer, and take back who I was. But I’d never be the same again because of you…and them. I’d also never be restored without you. I didn’t want you to be a vision and then I didn’t want you to be real, when Lillian told me you were. I just wanted you to be mine, only for me. Someone to call my own. The island was the only place for that to happen. I can’t join you here, on the other side of the water.”

  “Don’t say that,” he pleaded, stroking back my hair. “Don’t sound like it’s over,” his voice lowered. My eyes searched his without knowing what I was looking for. I wanted to believe in him, in us, but tonight proved we could not be us with them. He continued his path over my ear and down my neck as he spoke.

  “I used to think I imagined you, too. On the island, Garvey had me convinced you couldn’t possibly be there, but you seemed so real to me. Then we had that fight and you disappeared. One whole week I hadn’t seen you and decided you’d been a vision, one I tried to conjure again. Each day I came to the tree house, willing the vision to be true. I didn’t deserve you, but I wanted you. I missed you, and it wasn’t just because we were the only two people on the island. It was because you looked at me. You saw who I was. You saw that I was flawed, and you didn’t let me forget it. I wasn’t just getting away with something like I typically would. I was being drawn to something. And then you forgave me. I saw it happening. Your eyes shifted, and you softened toward me. You looked at me in a different way. And I liked it. I liked it so much, I began to think you were my redemption. After all that had happened, I was on course to have you as mine, only in a different way, a better way.” He rolled his head to look at the ceiling. “I can’t merge the two together, Juliet. The me that I was and the me that I’ve become.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry I took you on this path again. I should have asked you if you even wanted to go there. I won’t go to Consequence again. I’ll sell it. All the profits for The Mouse Trap. I don’t want to look back, but I’m suddenly having trouble going forward like I promised.”

  A tear slipped from my eyes as I nodded my head. There he was. The man I knew speaking his heart and breaking mine at the same time. His arms wrapped around me, and I pressed my lips to the bare skin of his chest. His breath hitched, and I wondered if he remembered when I did this the first time.

  I love you wildly, I whispered in my heart, willing the words into his. I knew it back then when I made the same motion. I knew it now, and I knew when he left me, I’d still feel the same way forever.

  + +

  Was I surprised that he was gone in the morning? I wanted to think I was, but I wasn’t. My heart felt it happening. Before we went to the new club, he had slipped away from me. He gave me last night after our world crashed to clear the memory. But it wouldn’t be enough. There was no way to erase all that had happened. I’d only have to live with it, as I once had.

  I stood slowly, my body abused from the rapid sex in my living room and then the slow lovemaking we had during the late night. His powerful body took its time to enter me, drawing out each ripple of pleasure like a slow dance. Hips gyrated in a melodic rhythm. A vixen tempting her hunter. A snake charming its prey. We were one, but we were different. Things were not the same. He’d never been so gentle. His hands seemed to memorize me. A slow drive on a backroad, taking the curves with care and admiring the view. His mouth traced over me, leaving no part of me unkissed, undiscovered. I tingled, every fiber of my being alert as he touched me and entered me and dragged out two slow, sweet orgasms. That would be my memory of him. Of us.

  I stared at the bed as I stood beside it. He’d taken over my world again, marking me in my own bed. Entering my living room, I realized he’d done it here as well. Couch. Counter. No room was sacred except my bathroom. I entered it and showered, washing away his touch along with the tears.

  I returned to my kitchen area in search of a glass of water to quench my throat parched from the sobs. On the counter, a piece of paper caught my attention.

  I’ll find you.

  Tears sprang again. An image of him returned to my mind. His cut jaw. His green eyes alight with flecks of gold, the sunlight haloed behind his head. A crooked smile, curling at the corner of his lips.

  Look at me, I said in my head to him.

  I want you to see me, he replied without words.

  He was looking at me. He saw me. And I saw him. Clutching the note to my chest, I knew what this meant. Goodbye, island. Goodbye.

  29

  Two months later

  Tack

  “You wired the money, right?” I confirmed with my secretary, Helena, for the hundredth time.

  “Yes, direct deposit from a private, untraceable account.” She read the number off once again, and I thanked heaven for a best friend who was a private investigator.

  “And then you called Miller James.”

  Helena nodded once. “I waited on the phone while I asked him to check the bank account. I explained that I was a representative for the donor and wanted to confirm the receipt of the donation for our records. I did not tell him who the donor was.” She sighed, exasperated with my confirming everything one more time.

  Eight point five million dollars. The commercial property had earned her organization a sizable donation that would have to be explained to her board of directors. A trust fund, the false donor stated. A woman who had been helped after an awful situation and left the money to Juliet Monte, formerly Juliet Montmore.

  There was no forwarding phone number. I wished I could see her face when she saw that dollar amount or when Miller started calculating all they could do with it to help others. He was passionate about their group, as his presentation months ago proved when he’d come to St. Croix. The false pretense of my donation challenge hadn’t been exposed then. The Mouse Trap would always have won, but feeling guilty about the hurricane and the false pretense for the other organizations, I gave them each $500,000 for their causes as well.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to just call her and explain everything?” Helena asked, her older eyes filled with sympathy stared at me over my wide desk.

  “No,” I snapped. Helena was used to my harsh tone and moody disposition. I’d grown worse in some ways over the last two months, but I’d done the right thing.

  Juliet couldn’t look at me. Her eyes avoided mine that night, even as we fucked, even when I made love to her, sculpting every inch of her body under my hands. She refused to look me in the eye. The one time she said she loved me, she
hesitated. And I had no one to blame but me. I wanted to fault my father for his disapproval, my mother for her warning, and fucking Rory for touching her, but it all circled back to me. I was the cause of her pain, even as I attempted to give her pleasure. Every stroke. Every lick. Every kiss. I tried to bring her back to me, but I’d already lost the tie.

  “Flight information was sent to your phone. The car is waiting for you downstairs.” Helena nodded again, militant like she could be. Her stare was sharp, disapproving, but still sympathetic. Somehow, she knew everything without me telling her all the details. “If I might add…”

  “You can’t,” I said, holding up a hand. Her mouth popped open and then her lips pursed, accentuating her wrinkles. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought of Juliet, growing old with her and wondering what she would look like. She’d always be beautiful, I decided.

  I shrugged on my jacket and took the elevator down to the lobby. I was headed to St. Croix to torture myself with memories and give myself a much-needed break from Baltimore’s impending winter. I would work remotely from the island for a bit. Or give myself some time off. Either way, I couldn’t stay here any longer knowing she was so close, but so far away.

  I’ll find you, I wrote. But I knew where she was. Branson kept occasional tabs. I ignored the phone calls from Miller. Juliet hadn’t tried to contact me. It was better this way. She needed to move on. She was stronger than ever. Stronger than she knew. Her business would be thriving, and she’d have other things to occupy her mind. Unlike me, who lived with her constant presence in my brain. She continued to creep into my thoughts, under my skin, and into the palm of my hand that wrapped too often around myself, jerking off to memories of her.

  + +

  I landed in sunny St. Croix and crossed the tarmac for the airport. Collecting my bags, I found my driver waiting and inhaled the tropical air as I watched my bags being placed in the trunk. Big mistake. The instant I smelled that familiar scent, my heart ached. I rubbed at the space above my left pec as I’d done occasionally over the last two months, pressing against the pain, knowing it wasn’t physical, but still internal.

  I missed her.

  I stared out the window, the view of the turquoise sea calming me only slightly. I couldn’t wait to take Vixen 2 for a run, but the thought reminded me of the maiden voyage and proposing to Juliet.

  I’ll go wherever you lead. Only I’d led her astray. I’d taken her to the one place she never wanted to return and put her in a position where the same thing nearly happened again. I’d told her I’d protect her, that it would never happen again. Thankfully, it hadn’t, but I still felt like I’d failed her.

  “Boss,” Marco met me at the entrance to the resort, his smile wide as he opened the door for me. I removed my coat after arriving and handed it to him, asking him if he could have it sent to my room with my things. I headed for the bar, ordering a bourbon from Brenda. She was a pretty thing, but I didn’t have any interest. I hadn’t been with anyone in two months. No one prior to that for nearly six. Juliet had ruined me.

  My palm twitched with thoughts of her under me. Her eyes, when she could look at me. I downed the bourbon, thanking Brenda with a generous tip, and decided it was time to face my room. Memories of her would be everywhere in there, but I deserved the torture. Going back was the only way forward, or so I once thought. I’d taken her back to Baltimore, and it had been a huge mistake.

  Different but the same. What a lie I told. I felt the same, but everything else was different, and I shouldn’t have gone back. I shouldn’t have put her under the microscope of my parents. I hadn’t spoken to them again after what happened. I’d severed ties with Abby once and for all. Rory already got my message. Juliet was mine, and if he came anywhere near her, I’d take care of him, like she took care of his brother. I really didn’t think our circles would cross again. With the club gone, I had no need to go to that part of Baltimore.

  I untucked my dress shirt, preparing for some rest. I’d taken an overnight flight, and it was messing with my internal time clock. Stripping down to only boxer briefs, I collapsed on the bed, drawing the sheet halfway up my body and darkening the shades. Restless sleep took me as it did each night. Memories of Juliet in this bed haunted me more, and I moaned under her touch. Her lips pressed to my skin, and I sighed in relief that she was near. My nose twitched with the scent of her—so rich, vibrant, tropical.

  Mouse, I groaned in my sleep.

  Tack, she whispered back to me, her breath warm in my ear, sending tingles over my skin. The sound was breathless, like she could be under me. I squirmed against the comfort of the mattress. Warmth pressed against my back, and I spun. It took my eyes a moment to focus, my head rolling on the pillow, clarifying my surroundings.

  Redemption Resort.

  My private rooms.

  Juliet.

  “Juliet?” I exhaled as violet eyes smiled down at me. A hand pressed against my chest. My heart raced underneath it. “Am I dreaming?”

  She shook her head, her smiled growing.

  “I’m here.” I sat up abruptly and wrapped her in my arms.

  “You feel so real,” I murmured into her hair, kissing her neck.

  “I am real,” she giggled, and I pulled back to stare at her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Finding you,” she whispered, and we took a moment to drink each other in. With my arms wrapped around hers, I flipped her over me to lay on the bed beside me. She giggled as her head hit the pillow. I was hyperaware of being mostly naked and her mostly clothed, but I couldn’t take my eyes from hers. Violet. Beaming. Glistening.

  “You’re real,” I whispered, wanting confirmation one more time.

  “I’m real.” My hand instinctively reached for her jaw, and I kissed her without thought. To my relief, she didn’t pull away but kissed me in return. It wasn’t heated. It wasn’t heavy. It was light, tender, seeking.

  My lips asked of hers, can you forgive me?

  Hers told mine, I already have.

  We kissed for long seconds, taking our time as if nothing had passed and nothing mattered going forward. Only this moment was what we needed. It felt every bit like being on the island. We had no sense of time, no rush for time. We just lived.

  I pulled back after several minutes, staring down at her. She smiled slowly up at me.

  “How did you get here?”

  “Eight million dollars goes a long way,” she deadpanned. I fell back to the mattress, my head hitting the pillow with a soft thump. Staring at the ceiling, I could feel her eyes on me as she rolled to her side. “Why did you do it?”

  “I told you I would,” I said to the spackled ceiling.

  “Why did you leave?” she corrected, and I rolled my head to face her.

  “Because you couldn’t look at me. You no longer saw who I was. You didn’t see me. You saw something else.” My voice faltered, and I closed my eyes. All I’d ever wanted was for her to notice me. The real me. Not the façade I put on for my parents, my false friends, my business practice. Me. A man who wanted to be loved, given permission to take love and return it.

  “I see you, Tack,” she said, stroking the side of my cheek. “Even when you were hiding in Baltimore, I saw you beneath it all. I just wanted you to stay you, and it scared me.”

  I nodded rolling my head back to face the ceiling.

  “I thought I could merge the two parts together, but I can’t, and I don’t think I should. I’m much better who I am now.” I looked back at her. “And it’s because of you. You make me better.”

  She smiled sweetly, but I don’t think she understood me.

  “I don’t like to be alone. It’s one of many reasons I searched for you. I felt incomplete knowing you were out there, and I couldn’t get to you. Does that make sense?”

  “Perfect sense,” she said, and her smile grew larger. “Two pieces of a puzzle,” she muttered.

  “If you no longer want to be with me, I understand. I do. But know
that I’m willing to beg you not to leave me, even though I walked away from you.” My eyes hadn’t left hers, and she swiped at a forming tear.

  “You don’t have to beg, Tack. You just have to ask nicely.” Her eyes sparkled, mischievously.

  “I—” A delicate finger over my lips cut me off.

  “I know why you did it. You want their permission, as well. But you have to accept that sometimes when you ask for things, the answer is still no. No, they won’t approve. No, they won’t like me. No.” She bit her lip before proceeding. “I imagine ‘no’ is not a word you’ve heard often.”

  It wasn’t. I’d been told I couldn’t do things, and I did them anyway. I’d been assured I could do things, when I wanted someone to care enough to say I shouldn’t. No was not part of my vocabulary.

  “If I ask you to still marry me, and you say no, it will crush me,” I admitted, allowing myself to be vulnerable as hope erupted through me like a volcano. Her presence here meant something.

  “No,” she said, and my heart plummeted but her eyes still playfully sparkled.

  “What the…” My voice drifted off as I rolled my head away from hers. My fingers dove into my hair. What the fuck was she doing here, if she was only going to deny me?

  “Hey,” her hand cupped my jaw, tugging me to face her. “No, I’m not saying no.” Her lips curled. My face lifted, a smile breaking my cheeks.

  “You little vixen,” I muttered, rolling my whole body over hers, this time taking her mouth captive like the hunter in me. She giggled against my attack, her body rippling as well with vibration. We kissed through the chuckle, before I broke free.

 

‹ Prev