by Gina Kincade
"Take them anyway. You never know."
Dakota's hand shook as she crumpled the prescriptions in her palm. There was no way she was going to take a chance. She'd take the pain instead.
The nurse handed a set of papers to Griffin. "These are her discharge papers. We'll be inside with the paperwork," she said to Dr. Thomas.
"Thank you." Dr. Thomas waved. "I'll be right in." She turned to Dakota. "Hi. I'm Cassie."
Dakota gave her a tight smile. "Thank you for your help."
She nodded and then looked to Griffin, who stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. She handed him a set of keys.
Dakota's stomach plummeted. Ah… That's how she knew who Dakota was. Cassie was with Griffin. Dakota's wolf growled and sniffed the air. A human? She was pretty but not beautiful. Maybe five years older than Griffin? Slender, with kind eyes. He could have done worse for himself.
Bowgie pressed against her leg and Dakota dug her fingers into his gray fur, trying to keep her composure.
"Thanks Cassie. I owe you one," Griffin said.
"Seeing you try to eat that salad tonight was payment enough."
He smiled and a pain shot through Dakota so swift she had to look away. She missed that smile.
"I'll call you in the morning," he said.
"What time is your shift tomorrow?"
"I'm on call tonight but on at eight."
"Well, maybe I'll see you the day after then."
"I'll stop by before my shift and we can grab some coffee."
Cassie gave Dakota a genuinely kind smile. It hit Dakota in the chest. "It was nice to meet you Dakota."
Dang, could she be any sweeter? It pained Dakota. She used to be like that.
She waved and nodded but her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth and she was unable to speak.
Cassie walked up the steps toward the hospital entrance and Griffin turned back to Dakota.
Silence stretched between them and then he turned and headed toward the Jeep.
"Bowgie heel." She wrapped her arms around herself and followed. "So, that's your girlfriend?"
"So that's your dog?" He glanced over at her. "Don't judge."
She shrugged. "I'm not. I'm just surprised."
"About as surprised as I am that you have a dog." His gaze narrowed. "Why? Because she's pretty and smart?"
"No." She threw open the car door. "Because she's human."
CHAPTER THREE
Griffin kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes trained on Capitol Blvd., but every particle of him itched to look at Dakota. His wolf grumbled and paced inside, wanting the chance to sniff her, to touch her, to hold her.
The last time he'd seen her he'd barely recognized her. Fifty to sixty pounds heavier, hair messy and cropped short to her head, eyes sunken in from being strung out. Face blotchy, skin dull and lifeless, like her eyes. On top of everything that she'd put him through, it'd been a shock to his system; one he hadn’t been able to handle.
But now dark waves cascaded just below her shoulders and she'd shed most of the extra weight. She looked fit and stronger than ever. Her eyes had regained their sparkle and even without makeup and having just survived a house fire, she was as beautiful as ever.
It would have been easier to keep the feelings and emotions bubbling inside him at bay if she didn't look like the Dakota he'd fallen in love with.
He pulled around the capital building toward the north end of Boise. Dakota stared out the window in silence, her hand on her dog's head, which lay on the armrest between the seats. His desire to reach out to her morphed into memories of betrayal and pain. Two months before coming home he'd gotten the email— she was pregnant. And then, the following month, the email telling him that she'd miscarried. From there it had been nothing but his anger and her silence until he'd returned home to find her sitting there, waiting for him, like nothing had ever happened.
As he swung the car into the driveway of the old, ranch style, three-bedroom home, his knuckles whitened with anger. Feelings he'd fought to move past resurfaced and mixed in his gut like bile.
He turned off the engine and they sat for a minute, staring at the house.
"I like the new plants," she said. "You always did hate the rose bushes."
Really? Was this what they'd come to? Talking about the shrubbery?
"I don't have time to deal with roses." His words came out harsher than he'd meant. His wolf growled and the need to shift rippled through him. No. He would not think with his wolf, he needed to think with his head. Despite the fact that their wolves were still mated, the human bond between them had been shattered long ago.
He opened his door. "Come on. Let's get you inside to rest."
"I'm sorry I ruined your date. I didn't realize you were listed as my next of kin. If I had been conscious when they brought me in I never would have let them bother you. I'll be sure to have you taken off."
"And put who on there instead? Scott?" Again jealousy oozed out of him. Damn. What was his problem? Why? Why should he care who she dated? He'd moved on. He had Cassie.
Dakota stared at him, sadness etched all over her face. Her deep, oak colored eyes stared at him, wide and round as a doe's. For a moment, everything bad between them drifted away and she was sixteen again— the new girl at school.
No. He wouldn't be sucked back in. "Come on."
Damn her and her soulful eyes, her soft, supple lips, and the new, slightly curvier outline of her hips. His mind swirled with desire, anger and pain. Why, after everything she'd done, after all this time, did her having a boyfriend bug him so bad? He'd known she would move on. He'd as much as told her to when he'd kicked her out. He had.
And how in the hell could she make him go from hating her to wanting her, all in the span of a car ride?
He opened the front door and held it for her. She stepped up onto the porch and he held up a hand.
"The dog stays in the back. Not in the house."
She glanced down at Bowgie. "But there's no dog house out there. He's an inside dog."
His eyebrow raised. "Since when did you even want a dog? I'd asked you if we could get one for years but you said you didn't want the responsibility."
She scratched Bowgie's head. "We wanted each other. I saved him and he saved me."
What did that mean?
"He can come through this way but he needs to go in the back."
She pursed her lips but then nodded and stepped into the house. The gasp that caught in her throat slugged him in the gut. He hadn't expected her to ever come back so how could he have known the changes he'd made to the décor would upset her? The house had been her home more than it had been his. She'd decorated it. Cleaned it. Tended to it. He'd worked and she'd stayed home. Just a normal married couple.
A ripple raced over her skin as she took in the new decor. His wolf begged him to reach for her. To hold her and tell her everything would be all right. But in truth, he didn't know if it would be, for her.
He closed the front door and locked it. "Your things are in the closet, where you left them. Not sure anything will fit you but if you want, you can shower and change."
She nodded and gave him a tight smile. "Thanks."
"Come on dog." He walked toward the kitchen. Bowgie didn't move from her side.
Griffin walked back and reached for the dog's collar but Bowgie growled.
Griffin bent down and growled back.
"That won't work," she said. "Bowgie isn't scared of wolves. He knows I'm the Alpha and he and I run together all the time. He won't budge unless I tell him to."
Griffin stared at the large Akita. Well wasn't that interesting? A dog that ran with a wolf and thought she was the Alpha.
He stared at the dog a moment longer and then walked toward the kitchen again. "Are you hungry?"
"No."
He stepped around the small kitchen bar, flipped on the lights and then opened the back sliding glass door.
"Bowgie, outside," she said.
T
he dog trotted into the kitchen and out the back door.
"Do you want some tea?" Griffin closed the door and opened the cupboard above the stove. "I still have a container of the Mint Melody that you like."
"Sure," she called. "I'm gonna take a bath."
"You know where everything is." He dug around in the back of the cupboard, pulling out the canister.
She sighed. "I'm not sure I do anymore."
Though her voice came out soft, he heard it clear as day. The pain. The sadness. The loneliness. Griffin placed both hands on the counter and dropped his head. The smell of the tea wafted toward him flooding him with memories. It's taken months for the scent of her tea to leave the bedroom. It permeated her pillows, her clothes, and the cupboard. All reminding him of her.
He couldn't do this. Having her there would just bring up all that had transpired, all that had gone wrong. But he couldn't just kick her out like last time.
One night. He only had to get through one night.
***
Dakota walked through the front room. Every reminder of her had been wiped away. Everything except her piano, that still took up too much space in the corner; only now Griffin used it as a table for photos of himself with his brothers, parents, and Marine buddies.
All of the pictures of them had been removed from the mantel, as well as the walls. The dolls, fans, and other chachkies they'd gotten on their honeymoon across Asia had also disappeared. The couch they'd picked up from an antique store had been replaced with a long, deep, tan, leather sectional. He'd turned it to face the fireplace and had bought a monstrous flat screen television.
For all the differences though, the familiar fragrance, feel, and sounds of home slammed into her like a semi truck. Memories of passion and loss mixed inside her so hard that her knees threatened to buckle. She sucked in a ragged breath and headed down the hallway toward the master bedroom.
Pushing open the door, she turned on the light. Relief and surprise washed across her skin. The same deep red bedspread she'd picked out, while he'd been away, adorned the bed. She scanned the room and except for the textbooks scattered over the bed, everything was exactly as she'd left it. Strange that he hadn't torn it apart, trying to blot out every whisper of her existence. She walked to the textbooks and thumbed through the closest one. Medical books. He really was in school. He'd talked about it so many times… she never thought he'd actually do it.
She turned to the closet. His clothes hung straight and perfectly pressed, as always, shoes lined up, awaiting their orders. Sweaters were folded neatly and stacked according to color on the shelf. On her side hung the few items she'd forgotten. She picked through them and located a t-shirt– now a good four sizes too large on her and a pair of ugly gray sweats that lay in a bundle on the floor, right where she'd dropped them.
The fact that he hadn't gotten rid of, or even touched, any of her things confused her. Had he expected her to come back? Or was he afraid they'd infect him? She shook her head. It didn't matter. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with her. She'd spend the night and in the morning be out of his hair once more.
Her head still throbbed as she walked into the bathroom and turned on the water. She stuck her hand in her pocket and found the wadded up prescriptions. She pulled them out and looked at them. Her heartbeat quickened and her mouth dried. She crumpled them up and threw them in the trashcan.
"Not even aspirin," she whispered.
She took a deep breath and striped off her clothes. She stopped herself from tossing them into the hamper, reminding herself that it wasn't her home. Yes, technically they were still married and her name was on the title but this wasn't her place of solitude. It was nothing more than a place to crash for the night— until she could get back on her own. A set of walls, floors, and a roof. Wood, stucco, and carpet. Just a structure to keep her out of the rain.
Tears slid down her cheek as she slipped into the tepid water and leaned her head back on the tub. This was no longer her home.
***
The teakettle’s shriek pierced Griffin's ears, but even the shrill whistle couldn't block out Dakota's sobs from the bathroom. His wolf grumbled and paced. Images flashed through his mind. Skype calls with Dakota when he'd been a month out. Watching as her face thinned and her movements became erratic. Asking if she was okay and listening to her overly jubilant responses— that she was doing fine. Calls with her talking so fast it was as if they'd been on a time limit. And then the drastic change, which happened almost overnight. Depression. Silence. Tears without explanation. The tremendous weight gain. Missed Skype sessions that started to send him into a panic. And finally, the email that had cleaved his soul.
… I made a mistake… I am so sorry… I'm pregnant… The baby is due in November…
And then the second email, a month later, containing only six words.
I miscarried. I love you Griffin.
He slammed his hands onto the counter then yanked the kettle from the stove. He gripped the handle so tight the metal indented.
She'd broken them. Why should he feel guilty for having kicked her out and starting over?
How many times had he had the opportunity to cheat on her overseas? A dozen? More? Yet he'd stayed faithful, even under all the stress. And here, in her comfortable existence, she'd partied, gotten high– and gotten pregnant.
His phone rang and he pulled it out. Cassie. She'd been the one bright spot in his life these the last months.
"Hey." He tried to keep his voice upbeat.
"Hey yourself," she replied. "I don't want to intrude. I just wanted to see if you're okay."
No, I'm far from okay. "It's not ideal but I'm managing."
Silence seeped over the line.
"I had a great time tonight and I'm looking forward to coffee tomorrow. I just wanted you to know I took care of the paperwork and I'll make sure you get the discharge papers tomorrow."
"Thank you. You didn't have to do that."
"It's nothing."
The water turned off in the bathroom. Griffin pulled a mug from the cupboard and dropped a teabag into it.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Cassie said.
He should reassure her. Let her know that there was nothing going on with Dakota. But he didn't have the energy.
"At seven?" he asked.
"Sounds great."
He poured the hot water into the mug. "Night, Cassie."
"Night, Griffin."
He shoved his phone into his pocket then grabbed the sugar, dumped two huge scoops into it and stirred it.
Outside, shadows deepened across the back yard, enveloping the half finished gazebo, waiting to be completed. Like so many other things in his life that he hadn’t gotten to since getting home.
"Is that for me?"
Griffin looked over his shoulder. Hair wet and dripping, eyes puffy, and skin blotchy, Dakota looked like she'd shrunk in the oversized clothes. Even so, she was still one of the most beautiful women he'd ever laid eyes on.
"Why don't I carry it to the bedroom for you?" He picked up the mug and headed toward her.
"I can do it myself. It's not like it's heavy."
He chuckled and handed it to her. Their fingers touched and a spark ran up his arm. He pulled away and shoved his hands in his pockets.
She gave him a tight smile and walked back down the hall, stopping at the first guest bedroom.
"There's no bed in there anymore," he said.
"Oh." She headed for the second bedroom.
"None in there either."
She turned to him and chewed her lip.
He'd gone completely bachelor pad with the house. Computer room, weight room, big screen television. When she'd gone he'd redesigned everything to fit him and the lifestyle he wanted.
"You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."
"I don't want you to have to do that. I can sleep out here."
He shrugged. "I have to study anyway and might pull an all–nighter. So better that someone ge
t use out of it. Let me just change first and then you can go to bed."
Passing her he caught the scent of his shampoo in her hair. Thoughts of her in the tub, naked and alone invaded him. He kept his eyes forward and headed into the bedroom. He was with Cassie now. Reliable, predictable, safe. That was what he wanted. No past. No heartaches. No pain.
He gathered up his books and his gaze landed on the divorce papers. He grabbed them and shoved them into the nightstand drawer, just as Dakota sat cross-legged on the bed. She pushed her hair behind her ear and blew on her tea.
She looked so helpless. So tiny and fragile, like a baby bird. He just wanted to wrap her up and protect her.
Damn his stupid wolf instincts. And damn the fact that he hadn't had sex in forever. Between the two his head was as jumbled as a gumball machine.
"I have class in the morning but when I get back you can have the car to go get whatever you need." He headed for the door.
"It's okay, I can call Scott."
Griffin stopped and his spine snapped straight. Don't ask. It's none of your business. She's not your problem.
"Is he your boyfriend?" He couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
"No. He's–"
Griffin held up his hand. An image of Dakota laying in Scott's arms flooded him. "Never mind. It's none of my business."
"Griffin–"
"I'm going to leave the door open in case you need me. I'll be on the couch."
He left before she could say anything more. He didn't want to know where they'd met. He didn't want to know how much she cared for Scott. He didn't want to hear her tell him that Scott was the one she'd cheated on him with. The one she'd been ready to bear a child with. None of it would help the situation. And frankly, if she did tell him, he might just lose his mind and go rip the guy’s throat out.
She wasn't his concern anymore and he needed to keep it that way.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dakota awoke to the sound of the front door closing. She stared at the bedroom wall and waited while Griffin started up his Jeep and backed out of the driveway. Her head still pounded and she blinked back the dizziness that spotted her vision. Damn head injuries.
