Keep Me Closer (A Dangerous Tides Novel)

by Rhyannon Byrd

  It’d been hours since she’d walked away from him, the spring sun gradually making its descent toward the horizon, but she still felt as if she’d only just walked away from his bed. She’d taken a taxi home from his condo, then called Lily to see if she could have Ryder bring over her car when he had the time. He’d shown up with the Audi later that afternoon, and Lily had followed him over in his Jeep. After seeing how upset Brit was, they’d both insisted she get out for a while, and had brought her home with them.

  Now she was sitting out on their patio with Lily, drinking margaritas while listening to the waves crash against the shore, thinking about Alex, and trying to figure out how she could have let herself get so in over her head with the stubborn ass. Maybe it’d simply been a matter of needing to focus on something other than the disturbed young man who’d been screwing with her life. In the face of Clay’s overly emotional obsession, Alex’s straightforward, no-frills desire had been exactly what she’d needed. Or maybe it was simply Alex. He was the kind of man it was damn easy to lose your head over.

  Just not the kind you wanted to steal your heart.

  But now that it’d happened, there was nothing she could do to change it. All she could do was hold her head high and keep going, showing him that she could survive. It was inevitable that they’d run into each other in such a small town, but running wasn’t going to solve anything. She wasn’t going to be one of those whiny bitches who turned her back on her friends just so she wouldn’t have to face the jackass who’d broken her heart. She would suck it up and survive. And hey, at least it wasn’t like she would have to see him parading around with some random beach-bunny on his arm. Despite worrying about it before, she knew that wasn’t Alex’s style.

  Beside her, Lily murmured, “I hate seeing you like this, Brit. You look so down.”

  She took a long sip of her drink, then lifted her gaze to Lily’s concerned one. “Men suck.”

  The pretty strawberry blonde smirked as she laughed. “Tell me something I don’t know, honey. Do you have any idea how long it took before Ryder would admit that he cared about me? I waited years for that big lug. And even then, I was the one who had to come after him.” Smiling, she said, “I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it—but he sure as hell didn’t make it easy.”

  Ryder came outside to make sure they were okay, planting a possessive kiss on his wife’s lips before heading back in to do some work, and Brit tried not to turn green with envy. But it wasn’t easy. When Lily asked her if she wanted to talk about what had happened, Brit heard herself saying, “I told him that I love him.”

  Lily blinked. “Oh, um, and what did he do?”

  “He pretty much freaked.”

  Lily’s eyes went wide. “He got angry?”

  “Yeah. He got angry about that . . . and because I refused to hang around as his fuck-buddy.”

  “Double ouch. What a bastard!”

  “Tell me about it,” she groaned, taking another sip of her drink. But it wasn’t doing anything to help. The alcohol was only making her tired. Staring out at the turbulent Gulf, she swallowed the knot of emotion in her throat, and said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do now, Lily. I . . . I think he’s ruined me. You know what I mean?”

  She turned to her friend just in time to catch Lily’s wince. “He was that good?”

  She swallowed again. Nodded. And after another drink of her margarita, she blurted out, “There’s something in the way that he moves. He fucks with every part of his body. Every single beautiful part. I don’t even need his fingers on me. I come so hard just from having him inside me, against me, around me, that I almost pass out.”

  Lily fanned her face. “Wow. No wonder you look so crushed.”

  She nodded as she set her drink down, thinking that she’d probably had enough, if she was going to start talking about her orgasms. “But it’s more than the amazing sex,” she said, her breath hitching as she fought back a fresh spate of tears. “I thought we were finally starting to develop that kind of connection that . . . ugh, I don’t know. That crazy connection you read about in books. Like you and Ryder have. And Reese and Ben.”

  Lily gave her a gentle smile. “Just remember how hard we had to fight for those men, Brit. Like I said before, there was a time that I honestly didn’t think Ryder was ever going to let himself admit that he cared about me.”

  After that depressing bit of news, Brit stayed for another hour, then decided she should head back home and let them enjoy dinner without her moping presence. They tried to argue with her, but in the end Ryder finally agreed to take her home, and Lily made the drive with him. They made plans to meet up together sometime over the weekend, and then Brit waved good-bye and made her way inside, punching in the code to her alarm before setting her purse down. She was no longer buzzed, but was glad she hadn’t had that third margarita. In her current emotional state, there was no telling what kind of drunk she would have been. The only given was that it wouldn’t have been pretty.

  Empty silence surrounded her as she locked herself in, away from the rest of the world, and she choked back a sob, her body trembling.

  God, she was going to miss Alex. Miss waking up to his face. Miss the way he held her so tightly in his sleep, as if he was trying to imprint himself on her skin. She was going to miss just looking at him, watching him when he hadn’t even known she was doing it, soaking in his dark good looks and raw masculinity as if she needed the sight of them to breathe.

  Turning away from the door, she walked across the living room, into the kitchen, moving by rote, lost in her thoughts as she headed toward her coffeemaker. She reached for the pot to fill it with water, then suddenly stopped. A prickle of awareness lifted the hairs on the back of her neck, but she figured it was probably just going to take her some time before she got used to being alone again.

  Getting on with her task, she’d just filled the back of the machine and set it to brew, when she realized someone was standing behind her. She could smell him, feel him, and a sharp cry of fear ripped up from her throat, her voice still hoarse from her pleasure-cries the night before with Alex . . . as well as from that morning. It’d taken everything she had to keep from telling him she loved him again during those heated hours. She’d felt as if he was driving for it, pursuing those words with single-minded purpose, but she’d fought them back. Now, though, she wished she hadn’t been so stubborn. Wished she’d used the time they’d had to keep telling him everything that was in her heart.

  Because it was suddenly too late. Somehow, they’d been wrong, because she knew who was behind her before she even heard the chilling sound of his voice.

  “Hello, Dr. Cramer,” he whispered near her ear. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  * * *

  ALEX WAS SLOWLY DRIVING HIMSELF CRAZY, BUT NO MATTER HOW HARD he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Brit. He’d tried calling her a dozen times that afternoon, just needing to talk to her, to hear her voice, even though there was nothing new he could say to make things right. But she wasn’t answering her phone.

  Not that he blamed her. If he were Brit, he wouldn’t want to talk to him right now, either. Not until he had something more meaningful to say than an invitation to dinner. Which he was pretty sure she would refuse.

  Going stir-crazy in the condo without her, the subtle whiffs of her scent he’d catch every now and then making him feel like a knife was stabbing him in the heart, he finally grabbed his keys, locked up behind him, and headed down to the beach on foot. He didn’t live as close to the shore as Ben and Ryder, the walk taking him nearly fifteen minutes, but he needed to be out in the fresh air, hoping it could help him clear his head.

  By the time he’d kicked off his sandals and made it onto the sand, the sun was a burning smear of crimson and orange on the distant horizon, melting into the Gulf. A few families had bonfires already going, and he walked for a while at the foamy edge o
f the surf, pulling in deep breaths of the salty air, watching the others around him. He’d walked maybe half a mile when he noticed an older couple coming toward him, walking in the opposite direction. As he drew closer, Alex could see the way they clasped hands, the man tall and gray, the woman still beautiful, with long silvery hair and bright blue eyes. He felt like a voyeur, studying them as closely as he was, but he couldn’t look away.

  What they had, it was tangible. You could physically see the love between them. As a strong breeze blew in off the water, the woman shivered, and the man drew her closer to his side, holding her like she was . . . precious. Like she was his life. He realized they’d stopped to watch some kids playing up the beach, the little ones waving down at them, making him think the kids were probably their grandchildren. You could fucking feel their satisfaction and happiness as they watched the children playing. Their commitment. Their joy. It made his damn eyes sting, which made him feel like a pussy.

  Fuck. He didn’t want a drink . . . or a redo on his past . . . or to never have gone through any of the shitty stuff that had happened in his life. In that moment, standing like a statue in the surf, Alex realized that he just . . . he just wanted Brit Cramer, pain in the ass, best fuck of his life, most beautiful, stubborn woman that he’d ever known, who could make him laugh and smile and . . . Christ. Who made him feel. Everything. All of it. She’d scared the shit out of him, with how much she’d changed his existence in such a short amount of time. She’d hit him like an emotional storm, and he was still reeling from the effects.

  Somehow, he found himself out of the water, his ass in the sand, eyes burning from the salty air as he stared out over the sea, and he saw it all play out before him, across the canvas in his mind. Saw how it could be, if he would just own up to what was happening. To what had happened to him.

  Damn it, he didn’t need time to figure out how he felt. What he needed was a fucking spine, because sitting on that beach, watching a storm roll in on the distant horizon, Alex knew exactly what he felt for Brit Cramer. And it wasn’t simply like or lust or respect. It was love.

  He loved her.

  He was in love with her.

  He was in love with the doc.

  And he’d fucking blown it!

  Shit. He was as bad as his idiot brother had been. Why hadn’t he just told her this morning? Just admitted that he needed her for more than sex? That he enjoyed every damn beautiful, incredible thing about her? Maybe then she wouldn’t have run. Maybe then he wouldn’t be prowling around like a fucking zombie, with no idea how he was going to get her the fuck back. It wasn’t finding her that would be the problem. No, it was what the hell he was going to say to her once he did. Would she believe him if he told her that he had feelings for her? That he’d just needed time to figure out what they were? That they’d been buried behind a fucking wall he hadn’t been able to get through? Or would she be her typical stubborn self and think he was only trying to tell her what she needed to hear? Would she think he was just trying to find a way to make her come back?

  And, Jesus, would he blame her if she did? So many times, he should have spoken, should have just talked to her, but he never had.

  Scrubbing his hands down his face, he groaned long and low as he thought of how she’d told him she loved him, and he’d just thrown it back in her face. He was such a dick. But he was a determined one. So goddamn determined he’d get on his fucking knees and beg her, if that’s what it took, because there was no outrunning this. What was the point, when he would just run himself in a circle . . . right back to her?

  It was about damn time that he pulled his head out of his ass and started embracing it. Embracing her. Because she was the absolute best thing that had ever happened to him, and she deserved a man who made her proud. Who did whatever it took to make her happy and fucking fought for her, no matter the battle. Even if it was against himself.

  She might not like it, but he was bringing her home with him. The last thing they needed right now was distance. That was only going to pull her further out of his grip, when he needed closer. As close as he could possibly get.

  Filled with purpose for the first time in what felt like a lifetime of just going through the motions, Alex surged to his feet and started making his way home. He made it back to the condo in record time, buzzing with nervous energy as he grabbed his wallet, and was just about to head back out his front door when someone knocked on it. Hoping like hell that Ben hadn’t come back to give him a hard time, since he was in a fucking hurry, he was relieved, and a little confused, when he found Reese standing on his doorstep.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked as he stepped aside to let her in, worried that something might have happened to Ben or Mike.

  “Uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” she murmured, pushing her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she gazed up at him with her big blue eyes. “I was wondering if you had a moment to chat?”

  Jiggling his keys in his hand, Alex knew he was being rude, but he was too impatient to get to Brit to sit around and talk, even to someone he liked as much as his sister-in-law. “I was actually just on my way out. I—”

  “It won’t take but a minute,” she cut in, her sharp tone taking him by surprise. “I just wanted to tell you what an idiot asshole I think you’re being.”

  Rubbing his hand over his mouth to cover his sudden grin, Alex lifted his brows and asked, “Did Ben put you up to this?”

  She shook her head and glared up at him. “He told me about the talk he had with you earlier, but that’s it. He doesn’t even know I’m here. He thinks I’m at Lily’s.”

  “So you decided to come over here and bully me all on your own?”

  “I’m not here to bully you into anything,” she muttered, stepping closer and jabbing him in the center of his chest with her finger. “I just want you to face reality. You love this woman, Alex. If that means you have to crawl after her on your hands and knees, then you find some fucking kneepads and get to it!”

  She was so adorable when she was furious. No wonder Ben always got such a kick out of riling her. “Reese,” he murmured, his mouth twitching with a smile. “You’re right. I love her.”

  She blinked, then grabbed two handfuls of his T-shirt and shook him, yelling, “Then go after her, Alex!”

  He was grinning like an idiot. “I am.”

  “Good!”

  “It will be,” he said, his low voice rough with conviction.

  “So if you’re going after her, then why am I still yelling at you?” she demanded, blinking up at him again.

  “Hell if I know,” he drawled, a sudden burst of laughter rumbling up from his chest.

  Reese shook her head a little as she let go of his shirt and stepped back, her expression hopeful as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’ve realized you were a flaming jackass, and now you’re ready to go and make it right with her, but I’m holding you back. Is that right?”

  “You hit it on the head, sweetheart.”

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “Then get the hell out of here!”

  Alex gave her a hard hug, then left her to lock up the place as he ran out and jumped into the Range Rover, breaking about twenty different traffic violations as he drove to Brit’s house. By the time he pulled onto her road and parked in her driveway, beside her Audi, his smile had been replaced by a terrified look of nervous tension, his heart damn near pounding its way through his chest. And while he was all about laying his heart at her feet, he figured she’d enjoy it more in a figurative sense, rather than a literal one.

  Wishing he’d taken the time to change into something other than his ratty T-shirt, shorts, and sandals, Alex climbed out of the Rover. He could tell there was a light on inside, but the house seemed unusually quiet as he made his way up to her front door, considering he knew how much she loved to have music playing. But if s
he’d been feeling anything like he had today, then she probably wasn’t in the mood. Hell, she might have just crawled into bed and slept the miserable day away.

  Taking a deep breath for courage, he lifted his hand and knocked on the door. He waited a few moments, thinking he heard someone moving around on the other side, then knocked again. Finally, he just shouted, “I know you’re in there, Doc! You might as well open the door because I’m not leaving without getting a chance to talk to you! I’ll stay here all damn night if I have to!”

  Five heavy seconds of silence passed, and then the door cracked open, only far enough that he could see a sliver of her beautiful face, which was pinched and pale. Guilt twisted through his insides, burning like acid, and he realized that he might have screwed up so badly she simply would never forgive him.

  No . . . no . . . no . . . please don’t let that be true.

  He opened his mouth, ready to start begging her for that second chance he so badly wanted, when she spoke first. “What the hell are you doing here, Alex?”

  He swallowed the knot in his throat, and braced his hands on either side of the doorframe as he leaned forward, getting as close to her as he could with the fucking door between them. “I need to talk to you, baby. Please let me in.”

  Her eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed, her nostrils flaring as she sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t do that. I won’t. I think you need to face reality, and see that it’s best this way.”

  “Face reality?” He wanted to howl like a lunatic, but somehow choked it back. Instead, his voice was almost painfully soft, little more than a whisper. “Open your eyes, Brit. Reality was you ripping my fucking heart out and walking away from me this morning.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said flatly, “but I can’t do this right now. Please, just go.”

  “No,” he croaked, digging his fingers into the doorframe. “Jesus, Brit, I’m begging you. I know I was a jackass, but please, just give me a chance to explain. I need to tell you that—”