by Cherry Adair
"Orange roses." The woman tilted her head to inspect him, and the roses, with an unnervingly direct gaze. "Fascinated. Bewitched. New beginnings. Intense desire. Three dozen at a guess. Orange is excellent, Riv. He's very sorry."
All Daklin understood was the last bit. "Very sorry for what?"
"Don’t know.” She gave him an eyebrow arch. “But I bet it’s a doozy. Riv, I'm going home. Save me some pizza. The money's here on the table." The brunette slid by to dart barefoot down the carpeted corridor. A door further down the wide hallway opened and closed.
The sliver of living room he glimpsed through the partially open door showed soft pastels illuminated by a wash of gold from the setting sun. Creams and shades of off-white. Pretty. Feminine. Where the hell was she? He pushed the door open.
River materialized in front of him. He was taken aback by a knockout punch of sight, sound, and painfully familiar fragrance. He'd missed her. Yearned for her. Hungered for her. Daklin's breath snagged in his throat. God. He'd forgotten how pretty she was.
Daklin's heart started beating again as he drank her in. Strands of shiny blonde hair escaped a clip to frame her face in sexy, mussed, just-got-out-of-bed wisps. A fluffy sweater, the pale blue-gray of the sky first thing in the morning, showed a smile of silky skin between its hem and her jeans. Her bare feet sported red nail polish, a guaranteed turn-on.
Hell, everything about her turned him on.
He glanced beyond her, because seeing her again made his chest ache and his vision blur. A couple in freeze-frame on the giant television, a royal blue bowl of popcorn on the middle cushion of a white sofa, two half-filled glasses of red wine on the glass coffee table. Pizza on its way. He'd interrupted a girls’ night in.
A steady look from her gray eyes told him absolutely nothing of her feelings, while more emotions than he’d ever acknowledged were pent up inside him like a pressure bomb close to detonation.
She crossed one pale foot over the other. "What are you doing here?"
He controlled the urge to grab her and kiss her. "Did you think I wouldn't find you?"
"Honestly?" She rubbed one foot on top of the other. It was an endearing tell that gave him hope. She was nervous, too. "After the way you disappeared in Montana? And after three months? It never occurred to me that you'd look."
He'd known exactly where she was every minute of every day since she'd boarded the T-FLAC Challenger eighty-six days, nine hours, and eighteen minutes ago. "Are you going to invite me in?"
"Sure." She stepped back, then walked through the living room to lean on the counter that separated the room from the kitchen. The place smelled of her. Summer rain and flowers. She seemed bathed in the honeyed light streaming through the picture window.
Mine.
The very concept was ridiculous. River belonged to no one. She was her own woman, and her very independence was a turn-on. Still, his heartbeat thudded, mine, mine, mine, as he filled his senses with her.
But then she folded her arms over her chest. Not a good sign. "Are those for me?"
"Yeah." He handed her the flowers like a kid on prom night. Daklin didn't remember a time in his life—-hell, didn't remember a time ever—-when he'd felt this uncertain.
"Thank you, they're beautiful. I'll put them in water." She rounded the counter and reached up to a top cabinet to take down a clear glass vase. Daklin got a quick glimpse of the small of her back, and the swell of her butt cheeks before she straightened. "Carly's a florist," she told him as she filled the container with water. "She's one of my best friends."
He didn't give a rat's ass. Then he realized that anything, everything, having an impact on River affected him as well. "She seemed nice. Protective." Her small smile did big things to his heartbeat. "You know, if there'd been any other way--"
The smile turned to a frown. "Are you talking about Oliver?"
"Yeah. Let me get this out and then we never have to talk about it again."
"I don't think there's much you could tell me about Oliver that would surprise me. I heard you saved the day and defused the emeralds."
"I have a good team."
"Tell me what you want to tell me about Oliver. I'll hold my breath until you finish. When I turn blue the conversation will be over."
Daklin felt some of his nerves begin to unravel. God, he wanted to touch her, taste her, tell her. But first things first.
"Xavier was scared shitless of your brother. And that's saying something since Xavier was one sick fu-- Perv. From what we pieced together, Xavier sent his daughter, Catherine, after Oliver while he was still at MIT. She seduced him, both literally and figuratively, to work for her father. With him having little or no sexual experience, Seymour was a smorgasbord of sexual opportunity."
She grimaced, putting up one hand to stop him. "Turning blue here."
"Seymour targeted him right from the start. She did nothing that wasn't calculated. He was easy pickings." Their intel had painted a dark and twisted picture, and Daklin had learned more than he’d wanted to know about the rogue operative, and how she used sex to manipulate River's brother. Catherine had used Sullivan's dick like a pull toy, leading him wherever she wanted him to follow. She’d introduced Sullivan to BDSM, controlling him by his dick. When she left Los Santos, Xavier took up the teaching role to ensure Sullivan stayed. Over time, the student had become the dominant to Xavier's sub.
It was way the fuck more than Daklin had wanted to know, and he had no intention of sharing any of it with the man's sister. The reality was, Sullivan had taken to Seymour’s machinations like a duck to water. He'd been no victim. In fact, he'd turned the tables quite neatly on both Seymour and Xavier and taken over their enterprise right under their fucking noses.
"Let's just say she taught him things, and when she left, Xavier stepped in to continue."
"Dear God, Ash! Not just no, but hell no." River grimaced and put up a hand. "I do not want to hear about his sexual exploits. Not now, not freaking ever."
He didn't blame her. Fuck it all to hell. He hadn’t flown to Portland to talk about her brother anyway. That unpleasant convo out of the way, Daklin fought to tamp down the riot of emotions that had been torqueing his heart for the past months without her.
It was ironic that they'd shared just days together. He'd missed her longer than he'd been with her. Daklin had hungered for her every waking and sleeping moment in that time. All he wanted to do now was inhale her. His chest felt the pressure, his throat closed, and his heart pounded so loudly, he was surprised River didn't comment.
Daklin rounded the island to enter the red and white galley style kitchen, crowding her against the counter while closing his hands gently around her upper arms. Her sweater was as soft as kitten fur. Daklin inhaled the painfully arousing scent of summer rain and flowers on her warm skin. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."
River gave him a steady look from clear gray eyes. She wasn't going to give an inch. Whatever he gained today, he was going to have to work for. "I wish you'd come to tell me yourself that you were safe instead of having Ram do it."
He had a million reasonable answers to that one. "He made sure you got home safely." Daklin glided his thumb back and forth over the fluffy fabric of her sweater, feeling the taut muscles in her upper arm as he stroked her skin through the soft yarn.
Her breath smelled of popcorn as she tilted her chin to look up at him. "That isn't the point, Ash. If you couldn't make time to come and tell me in person, I would've appreciated at least hearing your voice. I was worried sick when you didn't come back."
"I shot you!"
"Oh, that's just a bullshit excuse! If you hadn't done what you did, we wouldn't be having this damned slow-moving-get-to-the-freaking-point-conversation."
Was she mad? Daklin tried to read her. Hell, she had the best damned poker face he'd ever seen. "I had my hands full." He'd managed to remain conscious until he'd ascertained that River's injuries weren’t life threatening, ensured that the emerald Nuts were defused, a
nd was certain that the Nuts removed from the walls, didn't detonate. Then he’d passed out from the pain in his leg. They'd taken him in for emergency surgery while River was on en route to Portland.
Because she deserved an explanation, he said gruffly, "I had surgery. Went well. Almost no limp." He'd lain in that fucking hospital bed, in the bed where hours earlier she'd been treated, and the pain of missing her exceeded the post-surgical pain. He hadn't allowed himself to call her during his lengthy rehab. He sure as shit didn't want her pity, and he wasn't willing to tempt fate. He'd doubled up on his physical therapy, pushing himself to recover at super-sonic fucking speed so that he could walk in and sweep her off her feet.
Her eyes softened. "How's your leg, now? Really?"
"Good. Really." But he'd done a number on it in the field. The powers that be had reamed him out for faking his healing so he could go on the op, then reamed him out again for doing his job. He'd almost lost the leg. The sixteen-hour surgery had knit everything back together. It had given him more scars, and the prospect of several more surgeries to complete the work the surgeon had done.
He'd had a shitload of thinking time.
He woke every morning longing for her, and finally slept at night only because then he could be with her, if only in his dreams. He'd been a shit patient, and they couldn’t wait to get rid of him.
"Yay." Her hands slid up his chest, pausing for a moment over the rapid, hard knock of his heart, before she circled his neck with her arms. "Good for you." Her eyes called him the liar that he was. "You can run in and out of mines and blow up mountains with ease now." Daklin felt the brush of her fingers in his hair. "I've been talking to Marcus, did you know?"
"Yeah." He managed a smile, even though this also wasn't what he was there to talk about. "I kinda liked that my handiwork rained emeralds down into the valley." He'd been in constant contact to make sure a new village was being built in another nearby valley that has escaped the worst of the blast. "He tells me you have quite the cottage industry going with most of the women sewing sexy lingerie for you now."
"Their needlework is exquisite. I'll charge a premium and share the profits with them. It’s a win-win. Marcus filled me in on everything you and T-FLAC are doing to restore the miner’s jobs. The co-op is a terrific idea. We talked about things that could be done with Franco's hacienda. We're thinking a boarding school with housing for good teachers."
"Sounds good. It would draw kids from all over Cosio." But that wasn't what he wanted to talk about either. "The op in Los Santos showed me two things," he murmured as he cupped her jean-clad butt in both hands, then drew her more tightly against his chest. "Two things I had no control over. E-1x and booze."
"You seem to have mastered that explosive," she said crisply. "The world didn't blow up, thanks to you."
He looked beyond her, hoping for divine intervention. Color, books, pillows, and beautiful artwork filled her living room. A perfect setting for the jewel that she was.
He adjusted his focus so that her beautiful face filled his view. He'd met with the Presidents of three countries, talked to the Pope, spoken at summits, dissuaded terrorists, and defused bombs. This was the first time he’d ever been at a loss for words.
Daklin cleared his throat, and made himself bare his soul. "I don't enjoy not being in control. What I do and who I am demanded that I maintain control in just about every aspect of my life. My drinking put me out of control. I hated myself for not being able to control it, for allowing myself to weaken. That weakness killed my brother."
"As tempted as I was in Los Santos, giving in to that weakness would have meant putting people I cared about in danger. Then you showed up, and I had three things out of my control, putting you in danger."
"So your control issues are the reason you haven’t called me in three months? Fortunately," she said with a little bite, "I was not yours to control or otherwise. I never will be."
"I didn't want to control you, River. But I needed to control the situation we were in. You're as free and wild as the wind, and I'd never want to tame that. But you were an unknown quantity. A mysterious question mark I couldn't get rid of and couldn't dismiss out of hand."
"You think I'm mysterious and a puzzle. And yet I'm pretty simple and uncomplicated." She cocked her head, assessing him.
Heart full, Daklin shook his head. "You're complex and fascinating." Perfection is what she was. "I bought a house," he blurted out with zero finesse. "A small ranch, really. Cattle, horses. Pigs. A pond."
Her eyes danced as she stood on her toes, tilting her head back so she could look at him. Taking a page out of his book, she didn't crack a smile. "I bought green bananas and a dozen bagels at Costco."
She was going to make him work for this. His heart smiled. So be it. "I thought you might help me pick out furniture. Sofas and pictures. A bed."
"I don't think Portland's the place to buy furniture. Shipping it from here to Montana would be cost prohibitive."
"Are you trying to drive me nuts?"
"Clearly I don't have to try very hard. Use your words, Ash Daklin.” The smile that started in her lively eyes now curved her lips. "We're not getting any younger here."
"You don't just meet your perfect match and then say I love you after less than a week."
Her teeth sank into her lower lip and her eyes danced. "Okay."
"Our lives don't mesh. I live in Montana, your business is here in Portland."
"True"
"You're clean and. . . Clean."
This time she frowned. "I took a shower this morning."
"I mean I'm an alcoholic, River.”
“You’re dry now.”
“But that temptation, that hunger will always be there. I'll stumble, maybe fall.”
"How stressful was being eleven stories underground in your place of business with a bomb?"
"A bomb and you. Stress to the max. It was the worst experience of my career, bar none."
"And yet, you didn't take a drink."
"There wasn't time or opportunity. Trust me, the desire was there."
"Taking a swig from the flask in your back pocket would only have taken a second," she told him.
"Maybe I would've if I hadn't tossed it at the mine."
"I believe that even if you'd had the means, you wouldn't have jumped on the opportunity Ash. You didn't act on it in the mine under the most terrifying and dire circumstances. And today, instead of relying on alcohol, you used your brains and diplomacy to defuse an untenable situation. Sober."
Yeah, there was that. T-FLAC had commented much the same way, lifting his probationary status. "Yeah, well."
River brushed his jaw with her fingertips. “Apparently this conversation is extremely stressful." Her lips curved. "And you aren’t faltering, are you? Did you take a drink before you came here? A swig at the airport? How about outside my front door? Or when my back was turned?"
“No.”
“Why not?”
His stomach twisted. Tell her. Get some fucking courage, and spit it out. “Because of you. I want to be better. In ways I never thought possible. You inspire me to think of all the possibilities I imagined were impossible for a man like me: A home. A family. A life. I want it all. You inspire me to want it all. You inspire me to work for it all. You're the key to all of that.” He dragged in a deep breath.
Be more honest.
Hope crumbled with his harsh reality. “I have a long way to go.” Because if he didn't touch more of her he'd die, Daklin threaded a strand of her hair between his fingers, and rubbed the silky length. "I was this close to getting my ass fired before Los Santos. I still have at least three more surgeries. And every time I look at death, which is often in my line of work, I want a drink and have to fight off the urge. You need to know all of this to make an informed decision."
Expression serious, she said, "You're fearless. You have integrity. You give a damn about people, whether they want you to give a damn or not." Combing her fingers through his
too-long hair, she eased his head down, and whispered a breath away from his lips, "Is there a question in there?"
Resisting the pull, because no matter how desperately he needed to kiss her, he had to get it all out first. "I can't ask you to marry an alcoholic who's still facing a couple more surgeries and a long road to recovery."
“Hmm. I have an awful temper.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “And I’m stubborn.”
“Yeah. Got that.”
“I love to shop online in the middle of the night, and I don’t plan on getting out of bed to do it."
"That's all you've got?" He could only narrow his eyes. “What the hell does any of that have to do with anything when I just asked you to marry me?”
"Just an illustration that the broken, crazy bits of our fractured lives fit together like a puzzle. You started by telling me your flaws, so I figured I’d give you a few of mine. And FYI, so far you haven't asked me anything." Tilting her hips, she shifted her body just enough to drive him crazy.
Daklin cupped her cheek. "Los Santos will always hold a special place in my heart," he told her, his voice gruff. "It's where I met and fell in love with you. I had no idea that I was waiting my whole life to meet you, River Sullivan." There, he'd just jumped from the highest cliff into the unknown. "Hell, woman. Are you through torturing me?"
Her smile was like the sunrise, with a warmth that soaked into Daklin's bones and made him feel as if anything was possible. She was watching him with such tenderness in her eyes it made the knot in his chest unravel a bit. "Yes."
"Yes to what?"
"Crazy man. I love you. You have no freaking idea how relieved I was to find out I hadn't fallen in love at first sight with a bishop! Yes, to moving my business to your ranch in Montana. Yes, to taking care of you while you finish healing. Yes, to being extremely brave when you go back to work, now that I know what you do. Yes, to helping buy furniture. And finally, yes, I'll marry you, Ash Daklin."
"Thank God," he said roughly, his heart overflowing with love. Inhaling her summer rain fragrance that he hadn't been unable to get out of his mind, he pulled her tightly against his chest, lifting her off her feet. "I want a lifetime with you, River. I love you, more than I ever thought myself capable of loving anyone. You're the only woman I can imagine spending my future with."
