by Michelle Lee
Val’s been busy doing the PR thing, not only for the guys but she took on a new client, some up-and-coming hot actor that’s just burst onto the scene. Apparently, he’s the current “It” boy, and Val’s been lucky enough to earn his account. I have a feeling my friend will be branching out eventually and opening up her own PR firm. She’s definitely on her way. Tracy and I have gone out a couple of times, but she’s currently out of town doing some hair show. I’m so proud of her—she’s on her way to bigger and better things too. We all are. And again, that scares me too. I thought the picture of Alex kissing me was going to be the shoe that dropped, but it wasn’t. Dash handled it better than I did with the pictures of him and Nadia. Way better. So maybe there isn’t a shoe? Maybe all feet are covered. I hope so. But there’s that part inside of me that feels there’s a shoe dangling somewhere. Ughhh. Maybe I should just go shoe shopping instead. All this shoe talk is… ridiculous. Things are great. I need to quit looking for the bad and waiting for it to happen. I’ve grown and changed since being with Blake. This relationship is not that, and Dash is not Blake. If I need to pound and drill that into my head everyday, then that’s what I will do. Enough is enough, Julia Megan Bennett. I have the afternoon to myself. I think I will go shoe shopping. Maybe for something that will make Dash drool.
I DIDN’T BUY one pair of shoes. They were some really beautiful shoes in the stores, but I’m just not that girl. I did find something that will make Dash drool, though, I hope. While out, I came upon this specialty lingerie shop. Now, normally I would have to be dragged kicking and screaming into such a store, but the piece in the window that caught my eye pulled me in and had me walking out with it. I plan on leaving him in the living room at some point, go to the bedroom, and put it on. Then I will wait in there, and hopefully he will get antsy and come looking for me, and then surprise!
I’m researching this vineyard that is turning out the most amazing wines. They are fairly new on the scene and after mentioning them to Hank, he was all for me doing a piece on them. I love that about him and my job. He trusts my judgment. It speaks volumes when no one else was willing to give me a chance. I’m beyond thankful for Hank. Just as I’m getting lost in the pictures of the vineyard, there’s a knock at my door that sends my heart soaring and butterflies to swirl and bombard my stomach. Dash. It has to be Dash.
Closing my laptop, I get up and make my way to the door. I give myself the once over in the mirror by the door before opening it. And when I do, I am left breathless. Dash is standing there in a pair of low-riding faded jeans. The ends are frayed. He has on a blue long-sleeved button-down shirt that highlights his eyes. They are the most brilliant blue I have ever seen. It’s amazing how his eyes change color with whatever he wears. And then he has on his leather jacket, that is like a second skin how it molds to his shoulders and arms. I am left speechless. No one, and I mean no one should be able to look this good and not come with a warning. It should be illegal.
“You should come with a warning too, Sunshine.”
I can feel my face redden. My hands instinctively cover my face. I’m mortified I said that out loud. His hand tugs at mine. I wait a fraction of a moment before I let them fall to my sides. “There’s my beautiful girlfriend. Never hide from me, clear?”
I nod, moving out of the way to let him in. Dash stops midstep as he passes me. He turns, gives me that infamous smile, and then his lips are on mine. It’s sweet and quick. “Definitely need a warning.” I shake my head in disbelief as he enters. Closing the door, I find that I’m suddenly nervous. I give myself a mental slap. The man has seen you naked. The man has seen you fall apart. There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about. Right, tell that to the butterflies that have taken up residence in my stomach. Making my way inside, Dash is already comfortable on the couch.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Not right now. Come sit. I want to tell you something.”
I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat and feed it to the butterflies. I take the spot right next to him, but apparently that isn’t close enough, because Dash pulls me into his lap. “That’s better.” I lean against his chest, placing my head on his shoulder where I can just faintly hear his heartbeat. I love being able to hear it; it grounds and comforts me for some reason I can’t explain. I find when we’re in bed, Dash does the same thing from time to time. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “Comfy?”
“Definitely.” This is my favorite spot to be, in his arms, with nothing and no one to distract or interrupt us. These quiet moments are few and far between. I cherish them. Live for them.
“So, as you know, we’ve been laying down some tracks for the new album.”
“Mmmm hmmm.” Besides the benefit concert rehearsals and prompting it, the guys have been in the studio, which has cut considerably into our time together. But I’ve come to learn I’m okay with it. Dash is here and not in another state, country, or continent, for that matter. He’s home.
“And you remember that song I wrote for you?”
“Yes. I love that song. I still can’t believe you wrote me a song.”
“Believe it. I’d do anything for you, Sunshine. Anyway, the guys heard me tinkering around on the piano playing it and started to add their own parts to it. It really started to become something more. Then inspiration hit, which was you, of course…”
“Of course.”
“And I started to write lyrics to it. The guys loved it so much, as did our producer, that they want to put it on the album. I told them I would have to check with you first since it is your song, after all.”
With that last statement, I lift my head up. His eyes, which usually hold so much confidence, are currently filled with doubt. “Dash, it’s not just my song, it’s your song. And I would be okay with it to be on the album, if that’s what you want. Honestly, you didn’t have to ask me.”
“Yes, I did. I wrote that song for you. I never intended for it to be heard by anyone else. So if you have reservations about it being on the album, I will understand and the guys will too.”
“Do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now kiss me.”
“Bossy. I like it.”
Dash’s hands cup my face, pulling my lips to his. Our lips lazily move together. There’s no reason to rush; we have all the time in the world tonight. The kiss deepens as Dash’s tongue teases my bottom lip. I part my lips, my tongue seeking out his. The kiss grows, in fire, in passion, in want, in need. One of his hands slides from my cheek to around the back of my neck, pulling me even closer. A soft moan escapes my mouth, but it’s diminished by his own moan. My hand starts to roam his chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath that, every once in a while if I touch him with just my fingernail, he twitches. Something else twitches under my butt.
I break our kiss, knowing what we both want and need. I start to get up from his lap, but Dash isn’t having any of that and pulls me back down to his lap. “Trust me.” He nods and lets me up. I walk to the hallway and turn around only to find Dash pouting on the couch. “I love you.”
“I love you, Sunshine.” The pout transforms into a smile, causing my heart to skip a beat. I head down the hallway, making my way into my bedroom. Taking a deep breath, I start to undress as the lingerie sits waiting on my bed.
I’M PUTTING THE finishing touches on my outfit, or lack thereof—there isn’t much to it—which I guess is the point, when Dash calls for me. I ignore him, hoping he’ll get curious and come find me. I lay on the bed trying to look as sexy as I can without looking like I’m trying to when he calls for me again. There’s something in his voice that doesn’t sit right. Grabbing for my robe, I put it on and leave the room. When I get to the living room, Dash isn’t sitting on the couch where I left him; instead, he’s at the door with it open. Something isn’t right. It’s a feeling in my gut; something isn’t right. As I approach the door, Dash turns toward me, and when he does I see who he’s been talki
ng to—Dr. Hoffman, along with Detective Sanders and Detective York. My heart ceases in my chest along with my breathing. My body begins to shake. This can only mean one thing. Dash looks at me, confusion written all over his face. When I look to Dr. Hoffman, she is concerned, but also her eyes show something else—remorse. What did she do?
“Jules?” Dash draws my attention, his voice unsteady.
I take a step forward and acknowledge our unwelcomed and uninvited guests. “Hello, Dr. Hoffman, Detective Sanders, Detective York.” My voice is devoid of emotion for the moment. I’m on autopilot, it seems.
Dash wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. It’s supposed to be comforting and protective—it is, but at the moment I don’t deserve it. He’s going to know the secret I’ve been keeping from him. He’s going to know, and he’s going to leave me.
“Miss Bennett, may we come in and ask you a few questions?” Detective York speaks up.
I nod, moving aside to let the three of them in. Dash looks confused and concerned. Dash closes the door and is at my side when we all sit down in the living room. Dr. Hoffman is the first to speak. “Jules, I’m sure you’re surprised and concerned as to why we have shown up like this. Maybe we could talk in private?” Her eyes look to Dash before settling back on me.
I would love more than anything to have Dash leave, but it’s too late. I couldn’t explain this if he did. Russell was right. I should have told him sooner. At least then it would have been on my own terms and not like this. “No, Dash can stay. Dash, this is my therapist, Dr. Hoffman. And this is Detective Sanders and York; they were the detectives that helped me with… with Blake.”
Dash acknowledges the three with a nod. He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he kisses my temple, drawing me closer to him as we sit on the love seat. He’s silently giving me the strength he knows I need, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough once everything is out in the open. With the little strength he’s given me, I ask Dr. Hoffman the one question I already know the answer to. “You contacted them and told them.”
She nods. “Yes.” Her voice is soothing as usual.
I nod back. “What about patient-doctor confidentiality?”
“That applies in most instances, except a few, such as if a doctor feels a patient is at risk in hurting themselves or being hurt by others.” Soothing.
I nod again. “You figured it all out even though I never said his name.”
“Yes. It was obvious, and I believe you wanted me to figure it out, Jules. You just gave me enough information, and putting that with what we’ve already discussed in previous sessions, I knew.”
I nod. “So now what?” Dash is keeping silent, taking everything in. His hand holding mine tightened at the mention of the word him. I have a feeling—no, not a feeling, I know—Dash knows who we’re talking about. His breathing isn’t as leveled as it was prior to hearing about Blake even without his name being said or confirmed.
Detective York turns to me. “Now we ask you a few questions, okay?” I’ve always like Detective York; right now though, not so much.
“Ask away.” It’s a poor attempt to keep the disdain out of my voice. Dash squeezes my hand.
“When was the first time Mr. Collins contacted you recently?”
Here it goes. My world is about to implode, and I have no one to blame but myself. “A few months ago when I went to interview Chef Becc at his restaurant, Plate. I had no idea until we were face to face that Chef Becc was Blake Collins.” I hold my breath. Dash’s hand releases mine. My heart drops. I can’t focus on that now. I have Dr. Hoffman and two detectives sitting in front of me. As best as I can, I push the hurt down and focus on the next question.
“Did he do anything physical to you?”
“No.” I feel Dash somewhat relax next to me. “He did threaten me in roundabout way—Blake’s way.”
She scribbles that down and continues. “When was the next time he made contact?”
“A few weeks later, he sent flowers to my work.”
“What else?” she asks, her pen poised at the ready.
I tell them everything they want to know. Every minute detail. I tell them how I let Russell know what was happening and how he has had a security detail watch me since I got back from Italy. At that little bit of information, Dash cursed and got up from the loveseat to pace the room. A tear may have slipped out. I told them about the phone call and the threats and everything. I told them how he threatened to hurt Dash if I told the police. Dash harrumphed at that bit of information. I let it all out, laid all my dirty little cards on the table. Detectives Sanders and York are the first to leave, telling us they will be in touch and that they are now going to go and question Chef Becc, or rather, Blake. And if Chef Becc is Blake, they will arrest him since my case is still open. I gave them my thanks and took their cards—again.
Sitting back in the living room, Dr. Hoffman looks at me with understanding and compassion. “I’m sorry, Jules, I really am, but…”
“I know, Dr. Hoffman, I know. You had no choice. And honestly, I’m glad you did what you did since I didn’t have the guts to do it myself. But when he threatened… I couldn’t risk it.”
She gets up. “I understand, Jules, I understand. This will all get sorted out. I want you to come to my office tomorrow. I know it’s not our regularly scheduled time, but I think you need it. Dash can come too. I think it would be good for the both of you. I’ll see myself out.”
I give her a mouthed thank you with the best smile I can muster at the moment. The door clicks closed behind her. The room is silent. Dash and I are alone. He hasn’t stopped pacing. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to truly fix this. I don’t know anything anymore.
The silence stretches for seems like hours, but it’s probably only been about five minutes since Dr. Hoffman left. Dash is still pacing. I open my mouth several times, but nothing comes out, no words form because honestly, what can I say? I kept this from him. I kept something so important from him. How can he forgive me when I can’t even forgive myself? He stops pacing, his back to me. I wait. He turns around left and then right, his eyes scanning everywhere, but never finding me. His eyes stop, and that’s when I notice he’s looking at his leather jacket. With purposeful steps, Dash walks over to the chair, grabbing his jacket. He struggles to put it on, but when he finally does, he pats down the pockets, no doubt searching for his keys. He walks behind the love seat and stops. “I can’t do this. I just can’t.” The words are a whisper and then are gone, just like he is as the door closes behind him. My world cracks and crumbles around me as I lay down on the loveseat, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms around them as the deluge of tears start. I’m alone. I’m alone. And I have a feeling I’m going to be alone for a very long time. The thought tears open my heart, shredding it to pieces. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need it anymore. Hell, I never had it with me anyway. My heart walked out the door.
ARMS WRAP AROUND me, but they aren’t the arms I want. They aren’t strong, and they are way too small. My eyes flutter open, and on either side of me is Val and Tracy. I don’t know how they’re here, but I’m grateful they are. I wrap my arms around them as they hold me, and the sobs pour out of me again. They just let me, and again I’m grateful. They shush and comfort me as I fall apart. Again, I’m grateful. They hold me tighter, and I am grateful. My sobs become hiccups as I near the end of my emotional collapse. I have nothing left inside me. I feel hollow, completely empty. I go to sit up and they help me, still holding on to me as they do. I don’t deserve their comfort and kindness. I brought this all on myself. Tracy hands me a box of tissues. Val hands me a glass of water. Grateful. Once I’ve blown my nose a few hundred times and wiped my eyes, I drink some water and then put the glass on the table. I take a deep breath. And then another. And another. “How did you guys know? I mean, how are you here?”
“Russell called me, after Dash called him. He wanted to make sure you weren’t
alone and that you were safe.”
“I’m surprised he… um… he had Russell call you guys.”
“Why? He still loves you, Jules. He’s just really upset you kept it from him. And honestly, so are we, but we will deal with that later. How are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
Val shakes her head. “Not how are you now. How are you with this whole Blake thing? I can’t believe he’s Chef Becc.”
“Me either,” Tracy adds.
“I thought I was handling it, but apparently not.”
“You telling Dr. Hoffman and Russell were good things. I’m glad you told somebody, and Russell was a good person to talk to. I heard he’s been having a couple of his guys watch over you.”
“Yep. He told me I needed to tell Dash, but did I listen? Nope. Once again, I let Blake control me. He’s always going to control me, isn’t he? I’m never going to be free.”
“Don’t think like that, hon. You will be. You just did what you thought you had to. I would have probably done the same thing. You were protecting Dash. Blake is not only unpredictable, but believable—he has the history with you to prove it.”
“Val’s right, you know. And I would have done the same thing too. You’re not alone, Jules.”
“I feel alone.”
“Give him some time. It must have been quite a shock to hear all this tonight. He’s probably just driving around sorting it out in his head. Russell said that’s what he usually does when he’s stressed out. Or he’s in front of his piano, but since he was here, I’m betting he’s just driving around clearing his head. He’ll be back.”
“I wished I shared your optimism. You guys weren’t here. You didn’t see his reaction or the way he left. He didn’t even look at me. And he told me… he told me he couldn’t do this. No, I’ve lost him and I deserve to. I wasn’t honest with him, and I hurt him. Besides, it would have ended eventually; we have too many things working against us. It’s better it happened now. Yep, better it happened now.”
