Last Chance Hero

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  He let her go again, and pushed himself down so that his face was in line with her stomach. He used his tongue to create a lazy circle of her navel, then put his teeth to her jeans button and tugged it open. He fought with her zipper for second, then gave up and yanked down the pants forcefully.

  “Holy hell,” he swore, his voice rough with desire.

  Jordynn lifted her head and found his gaze on the pair of simple black lace panties she’d thrown on for work. Not her usual, everyday selection, but...

  “I missed a laundry day,” she blurted, then blushed.

  “That shouldn’t be a sexy statement,” Dono replied, “but I’ll be damned if I’ve ever heard something sexier.”

  He dropped to the bottom edge of the bed then, and lowered his head, marking her ankles with his mouth. As he worked his way up, Jordynn gasped and flopped back onto the pillow, her embarrassment forgotten.

  Dono found her calf. Then her knee. And her thigh. Then he kissed her lightly over her underwear. And back down again on the other side. He started a second pass, this time with his tongue.

  “Dono.” His name came out in a moan.

  He paused. “Yeah, honey?”

  “No, don’t—Ah, don’t stop.”

  He chuckled against her thigh, then let his mouth go to work. Up. Down. Increasing in intensity each time. Jordynn was on fire with wanting him.

  “Donovan, please.”

  Obediently, he lifted himself back up onto the bed, somehow managing to flick her underwear off at the same time, then held himself poised over her. His face grew momentarily serious.

  “I love you, Jordynn,” he murmured. “Never stopped.”

  She opened her mouth to reciprocate, but as her lips parted, Dono thrust forward, entering her in a way that made it impossible to form a coherent sentence.

  God, oh—Oh, God—My—Yes.

  Jordynn had no idea if she spoke aloud, or if the half-formed thoughts simply stayed in her head. She didn’t care, either. She moved with him. A remembered rhythm. A perfectly in-synch cadence. Her name, on his lips. His body, filling her.

  Seconds became minutes, and the minutes became timeless.

  At last, the tempo built to a crescendo, and Dono released an animalistic noise from deep in his chest, and pushed into her a final time. And with a crash, Jordynn came undone, shuddering against him, wave after wave rocking her—and she was complete, for the first time in a decade.

  * * *

  Donovan balanced himself on his elbow for a long minute, admiring the slight part in Jordynn’s lips, the flutter of her eyelids and the flush under her freckles. The rise and fall of her chest under the thin bedsheet was even. Comforting. She was, and always had been, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  And she forgives you.

  That, more than anything, made his heart swell. It was more than he could have hoped for. More than he could offer himself.

  She still doesn’t know it all.

  Donovan shoved down the little reminder. That was about him, not her. And Jordynn was what mattered.

  He traced the line of her bare collarbone. “You awake?”

  “Sort of.” She opened one eye. “Did you think you were watching me sleep?”

  “Maybe.” He chuckled. “I think I could watch you for hours.”

  She lifted the other lid and both blue eyes met his stare. “I’m sure the staring would get old pretty fast.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Creepy, then.”

  “Maybe that,” he conceded, then rolled himself off her and pulled her into a sideways embrace.

  He inhaled deeply, drinking in the light scent of sweat and sex and whatever it was that made Jordynn smell perfect. He wished he could hold it in his lungs, hang on to its overwhelming sweetness. He wished, also, that he could hold on to the rightness of being together. The afterglow. But he could already feel the pressing need of their situation, rearing its head and demanding to be dealt with.

  Like she could read his mind, Jordynn sighed and said, “We need to get back to work, don’t we?”

  Donovan ran a finger up her arm, elbow to shoulder, then back. “My care aide suggested that I rest.”

  “Your care aide retracts her earlier assessment.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “In light of your recent demonstration of capability.”

  He grinned. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

  Jordynn’s face flushed. “Shut up.”

  Donovan laughed, then reached over her to grab the red folder from the nightstand. He pulled her in again and opened the file up. He scanned the list of names, properties and values.

  “These aren’t Haven developments,” he said right away.

  “No. They all belong to Fryer. See here? This one—Dancer’s Cove—I’ve actually heard of. It was in the news a couple of years ago. It was a brand-new recreational property outside of Portland. Cabins and stuff. I remember it because it burned down. Even with the insurance, a lot of people lost money.”

  Donovan slid his finger to where she was pointing, then dragged it up. “I recognize this one, too, from a town I was staying in. It was a condo that didn’t pass inspection, and the whole thing had to be gutted.”

  Jordynn sat up, clutching the sheet, her blue eyes wide. “Dono...do you think Haven sabotaged these?”

  “All of them?” He pulled the folder to his lap and scanned the list. “There’re nineteen properties here.”

  “I know. But is it really that far-fetched? They murdered someone ten years ago. To me, that’s way more unfathomable than one development company trying to take out a competitor.”

  Donovan leaned back against the headboard thinking about it. She was right. Ivan—and whoever was pulling his strings—had the guts, and the lack of morals, to commit sabotage.

  “But I don’t think they’re really competitors,” he murmured.

  “Why not?” Jordynn asked.

  “Money. Plain and simple.” He tapped the sheet. “Look at the prices of these properties. They’re worth a tenth of what most of Haven owns. Fryer is small potatoes.”

  “Except Fryer did get the mountainside property.”

  “Except that.”

  Jordynn pursed her lips. “What if it’s not about the money or the property? What if the mountain is a coincidence and there’s something we’re not seeing?”

  “If that’s true, then I guess we should make a concentrated effort to figure out what it is.”

  “We need the internet.”

  Donovan gave the room a quick once-over, then nodded toward the phone on the nightstand. “She hasn’t even moved on from rotary. I somehow doubt Ella’s managed to get a computer in here anywhere.”

  She sat back, looking deflated. “You’re right. What’re we going to do?”

  “Find somewhere with free computers?”

  “Right. Because those are all over the place.”

  “How about a burner phone with a web browser?”

  “Where are we going to get one? It’s not even eight in the morning. And it’s Sunday. Even the library is closed, and that’s probably the one place that does still have public computers.”

  Donovan sighed. “If you’re not a part of the solution...”

  “I’m thinking!”

  “No, I’m thinking. You’re shooting down my ideas.”

  “Because they’re bad ideas.” Jordynn gave his arm a light shove. “I don’t know how you survived without me.”

  “That’s just it, honey. I survived. Nothing more.” He reached up and took her hand, then lifted her palm to his mouth and gave it a kiss. “I know I did it to myself, but it was still tough. The first month, I wanted to cry myself to sleep every night. The second month, I kept telli
ng myself it was a bad dream. The third month, I realized it was really real, and I couldn’t hold it together. I got on the bus with the intention of coming back eighteen times.”

  “And eighteen times you turned around again.”

  “Yep. I knew that if I didn’t, I would just lose the thing I wanted to come back to so desperately.”

  She trailed her fingers up and down his hand, and the need for urgency slipped away as he closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of it. Lying with her was like coming home for real. Like those ten years apart were already misting into oblivion.

  “Tell me about the night you left,” Jordynn said then, her voice tentative.

  “It was dark and stormy.”

  Donovan grinned into her hair as she let out a laugh.

  “Such a liar,” she said.

  “Yeah, well. I’ll accept the label. Anything for your amusement.” He sighed, wishing he could keep up the lightness, but knowing there was no way to do it. “Maybe it just seemed stormy that night. Ivan’s men had beat the hell out of me and left me on the side of the road... I was sure that was the end. For me. For us. I knew if I came back into town, I’d have to find a way to explain my injuries. You wouldn’t have just let it go. Which is probably why they did it the way they did. So then I came up with this insane idea. I’d fake a car crash. It would explain away most of the physical damaged I’d suffered.”

  “What changed your mind about doing it?”

  He pulled her into a sideways embrace. “I drove out to Hilltop Park. I thought I’d go full speed at a telephone pole or something. Jump out at the last second. Figured if I did it up there, the sound would carry down, and someone would call 911, even if I couldn’t manage it myself. But I got to the park, and I just couldn’t do it. I was a mess. Blood everywhere. Heart in a million damned pieces. I sat there on the hill, and realized I was in over my head. Way over. And no matter what I did, they weren’t going to just disappear.”

  “Unless you did,” Jordynn filled in.

  “Exactly. And when I decided that, I was finally calm. For the first time in a month, I knew what to do.” Donovan lifted a strand of red hair and wrapped it around his finger. “I turned around and I left Hilltop Park. I came up with a new plan, and I drove to our bridge instead, on Greyside Mountain. I knew that old bridge well enough to plan exactly where to push the car off. I stripped down—my clothes were destroyed anyway, and there was more than enough blood on them—and tossed everything into the front seat. Which is when I called you.”

  “And when I started the fight.”

  “You might’ve started it,” he said as he released her hair, “but I let it happen. I might even have pushed it a little, thinking it would be easier for you to let me go if you were mad at me.”

  She pulled away. “Easier? It’s eaten me up inside, that the last words I said to you were angry ones. I’ve spent ten years feeling so guilty. Wishing I could take those words back.”

  Strangely, Donovan’s own guilt didn’t rear its head. Sure, it was still there in the back of his mind, tied to the things he still hadn’t shared. But the forward momentum—the urge to heal what could be healed—was stronger.

  “Do it now,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Take back the words.”

  Jordynn met his eyes. “Now?”

  Donovan nodded. “Yes.”

  “What good will it do?”

  “You won’t know unless you try it.”

  Her gaze dropped to her hands, and when she lifted her face again, there were tears in her eyes. “I take it back, Dono. I didn’t mean it when I said you were self-centered and that I was glad you canceled our date. It was mean and untrue. I wish I’d just told you it was fine and I’d see you soon. I thought about the conversation, over and over.”

  Donovan reached up to wipe away a stray drop. “I never thought twice about what you said. And I never once resented that you were angry with me before I left. And maybe it was self-centered, but the thing that mattered most to me was that the last thing I said to you was that I love you.”

  “That doesn’t change that the last thing I said to you was to take your excuse and shove it.”

  “That bit made me laugh, actually. It was so you.”

  The smallest bit of a smile tipped up one corner of Jordynn’s mouth. “Anything for your amusement.”

  He smiled back. “Feel any better?”

  “A little,” she admitted.

  “See? You have to let it out so you can let it go.”

  He meant it as a joke, but Jordynn’s face turned serious again.

  “Like you have?” The question was a challenge.

  “It’s different for me. You said something you didn’t mean. I faked my own death and left you and—”

  “And I forgave you. For all of it.”

  He kissed her. “I know.”

  “So what’s it going to take?”

  “For me to let it go?”

  “Yes.”

  Donovan closed his eyes for a second, seriously thinking it over. He already felt remarkably light. More at ease than he had in a decade. Forgiving himself, though, was going to take more.

  “Resolution,” he said softly.

  “That’ll work?” she asked.

  “It sure as hell won’t hurt.”

  She tossed back the sheet and stood up, her glorious curves on display. “Let’s go.”

  Donovan lifted a brow. “Without our clothes?”

  Color bloomed in her cheeks, but she just grabbed his pants from the floor and tossed them his way. “Nope. We’re going to be trying not to attract attention.”

  He put his hands behind his head and leaned against the headboard. “So now we have a destination in mind?”

  “Since we can’t get access to a public computer, we need a private one. I’d usually suggest my house or Sasha’s, but those are out of the question, so...option C.”

  “Which is?”

  “Work.”

  “Work?”

  “The care home—where I change the diapers and the bandages—has computers,” she said. “And I have access.”

  “There’s a good chance they’re watching the building,” he replied.

  “Maybe. But I know a secret way in.”

  He watched her dig through the pile of blankets in search of her clothes. Her hair flung back and forth across her shoulders, and her creamy skin flashed appealingly as she moved.

  “Where’s my shirt?” she muttered.

  Donovan spied it hanging from the edge of the desk.

  “I think it’s under the bed over here,” he lied.

  She stepped closer, and as soon as she was in reach, he grabbed her and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

  “Hey!” she protested.

  “You think the computers will be there for a little while longer?” he teased.

  Jordynn’s face flushed. “I guess I wouldn’t argue if you wanted to stay here for another few minutes.”

  “A few minutes? Give me a bit of credit.”

  “I thought I was giving you credit.”

  “Then I guess I should remind you that I’m not an overeager twenty-year-old boy anymore.”

  She smiled a little too sweetly—almost coyly. “Oh.”

  “Oh?” Donovan repeated.

  “Just...does that mean you’re so old that you, you know, can’t?”

  “It means I’ve been waiting for you for ten very long years. And I don’t think I’ll ever be so old that I can’t.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Prove it.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  And he dropped down, pressing himself against her and leaving no doubt about the fact that he could. That he would. Right that second.

&n
bsp; Chapter 15

  Jordynn was achy and warm and satisfied. Suffused with a new sense of hope, and a belief that they would succeed. And most of all, she was glad to have had a second chance with Dono. Even if their reunion was still a little too brief for her liking.

  Like he could read her thoughts, he turned and shot her a slow wink from his position near Ella’s counter, then went back to chatting with the still stern-faced older woman.

  Okay. Some parts weren’t brief, she amended.

  Because by the time Jordynn had taken a quick shower—which Dono insisted on joining her for—gotten dressed, then undressed, and dressed again a final time, she’d completely lost track of how many “prove it” minutes had passed. Enough to make her legs continue to have that just-ran-a-mile shake.

  And the shake threatened to become a swoon as Dono tapped the counter, said goodbye to Ella, then directed a hundred-watt smile Jordynn’s way as he strode toward her. When he reached her, though, he put a hand on her elbow, and it steadied her as they walked out to the parking lot.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “For?”

  “Everything.”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure I should say you’re welcome for such a vague expression of gratitude.”

  “It’s not vague. It’s...inclusive.”

  “Well, then. You’re welcome.” He gave her a kiss, opened the passenger-side door for her, then paused. “I’m a little worried that this car is going to attract some unwanted attention.”

  Jordynn climbed in. “Me, too. Which is why you’re going to drive us to Sandstone Lane before we go to the care home.”

  “Sandstone? In the industrial area?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to tell me why, or just sit there with a smug smile on your face?”

  “Smug smile.”

  “Okay.”

  Dono closed the door, and Jordynn had to work to keep her lips zipped. She’d come up with the idea at the same moment she’d thought of using the computers at work. She wanted to hold on to the small bit of excitement she had at the thought of giving him a small—hopefully good—surprise. So when he got in beside her and turned the scissors in the ignition, Jordynn reached over, fired up the radio and raised the volume just a little too loud to permit any kind of reasonable expectation of conversation.