Last True Hero

by Diana Gardin

  “You’re an artist?”

  She scoffs. “Well, I mean I paint. And I really love to do it. Sometimes there’re feelings and emotions raging around inside of me that I don’t know what to do with. When I was in middle school and I picked up a paintbrush in one of my art classes, I felt a complete release come with each stroke I made. I’ve been doing it ever since.”

  I stare at her. I’m sure my eyes are filled with wonder. “Can I see?”

  “My art? You want to see a piece I’ve done?” The almost shy tone to her voice is back, and she sucks hard on the corner of her lush lip. Jesus. I want to suck on that lip.

  “I want to see every piece you’ve ever done.”

  She flushes that sexy crimson, and I reach over to brush the hair out of her eye.

  “You know you’re very, very cute when you’re embarrassed.”

  Her dimples dot her cheeks. “Yeah, well…”

  For the first time, she’s at a loss for words, which I find uproariously funny. When I settle down, I ask her again.

  “So, can I see?” I don’t know why, but I have a sudden urge to see what this funny, beautiful girl has created with her hands and her mind. The desire is literally pulsing inside of me.

  “I don’t know. I don’t keep any of it at my parents’ house. I can’t stand it when they don’t get it the way I want them to. I have some pieces on a gallery wall at my university. My art professor promised he wouldn’t remove them anytime soon.” She offers me a shy, tentative smile. “Would you want to—”

  “Yes,” I answer before she finishes. “Just…yes. Can we go the next day you’re off work?”

  Her dimples appear in her cheeks. “Yeah. It’s about an hour’s drive to UNC Wilmington from here. You up for a little road trip with me, soldier?”

  I reach over and grab her hand where it’s resting on the arm of her chair. “I’m probably up for just about anything with you, Berkeley.”

  I reach down and feel the water her feet are still soaking in. It’s cooled off considerably, so I grab a towel from the little table beside me and pull her feet out one at a time. I take my time toweling them dry, and then leave one of her legs in my lap. Even though I love her ripped, tight jeans, I wish that today had been a day she was wearing a pair of her short shorts.

  As I begin to rub her feet, using my thumbs to apply pressure to first her heel, and then the ball of her foot, she moans. I drop my head back, undone.

  “Hey…Berkeley?”

  “Mmm?” Her eyes are closed again.

  “Those noises you’re making…they’re likely to make me forget about respecting your ‘complications.’ They’re likely to make me turn that lounger into a bed and lay you out on top of it. And then I might inexplicably end up laid out on top of you. I don’t want to be a dick, but if you can….refrain from making those little moans. That would be fucking great.”

  Her body tenses, and she’s quiet, but I can see her peeking at me through one eye. “You don’t know how much I wish I didn’t have those complications right now, Dare.”

  Jesus. My name on her tongue does things to me that have never been done before. I can’t get enough of this girl. Her face, her voice, her humor. Her laugh, her dimples, and now that I’ve found out she’s an artist…I just want more.

  She suddenly sits up, the muscles of the leg in my lap tightening as she levels her gaze at me. “What’s up with Chase?”

  I sigh, moving my kneading hands up to her ankle. “He’s my brother. He had my back a lot growing up. We always come through for each other, no matter what.” I try to keep my expression neutral.

  She nods thoughtfully. “You two, for being so close, seemed awfully tense at dinner.”

  I close my eyes briefly. I don’t want to go into detail about Chase and his issues, but I don’t want to hide anything from Berkeley either.

  “Let’s just say that he’s got problems that I wish he didn’t have. After high school, I picked a path that had to keep me on the straight and narrow. He chose a different path. He’s still on it, and it irritates the shit out of me.”

  Her brow furrows. “He’s in trouble with the law?”

  “Sometimes. At the moment, he’s in trouble with someone worse than the law.”

  She sucks in a deep breath. “And you have to get involved?”

  “It’s complicated, Berkeley. I get involved when I can in order to keep him out of trouble. But I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do that this time.”

  She nods, but her expression is full of apprehension.

  “Do you have siblings?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head, her curls bouncing back and forth with the movement. “Only child. Hence the brattiness. I do have a close family friend who’s sort of like a brother to me.” A shadow crosses her face, and I trace her jawline with a finger.

  “What would you do for him if he were in trouble?”

  Understanding dawns on her features like a painfully beautiful sunrise. “Probably anything.”

  “You see my dilemma.”

  She nods, biting the corner of her bottom lip.

  “Be careful,” she whispers.

  I lean closer until my face is only inches from hers. At this range, my self-control is almost nonexistent. The scent of roses washes over me, and every muscle in my body wakes up.

  “You worried about me?”

  She nods.

  “You know I was a Ranger, don’t you? I think I can handle myself with my brother’s issues.”

  Her eyes grow wide, and I almost fall into their whiskey-colored depths. Her skin pales slightly, losing some of the normal rosy blush. “A Ranger? Shit, Dare! I just thought you were infantry.”

  I chuckle. “See? We’re getting to know each other better already. Complications be damned.”

  She stands up. “Complications indeed. I better go. The footbath and rub was amazing. You get a reward the next time I see you.”

  My brows rise as I stand up beside her. “And what day is that again? Your next day off, we’re road tripping.”

  She smirks. “Thursday, then. Can you get off work?”

  I answer her smile with one of my own. “I live with the boss, remember?”

  Today is Tuesday. In two more days, I will have Berkeley to myself for an entire day.

  And now I have a new mission: to obliterate her complications.

  12

  Berkeley

  I’m not sure why I agreed to this, other than the fact that Dare Conners, the ex–Army Ranger, for God’s sake, is utterly irresistible. I don’t parade my paintings around for guys I date. Shit, I’m not even supposed to be dating Dare! He just snuck his way into the inner workings of my mind somehow, and now I can’t shake him.

  Damn him and his funny quips and his ridiculously hot body and his perfect face and his subtle internal darkness.

  We pull into Wilmington in my Escalade, because Dare didn’t insist on driving. I even purposely tested him, asking him if he minded me driving. He said no. I had to ask again to reassure myself I wasn’t hearing things. I’ve never dated a guy who didn’t insist on driving everywhere we went together. I’ve never seen my mother and father ride in the same car together where the Admiral wasn’t at the helm.

  I glance over at Dare as we drive into a gas station. “Hungry?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but I could go for some caffeine. Let me get you something?”

  I shake my head no, and he shows me a couple of bills. I stare at them.

  “What’s this for?”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Gas? Does it usually take about eighty-five to fill this mother up?”

  He thinks he needs to pay for my gas? I begin shaking my head, but his strong fingers enclose around my arm and force me to meet his gaze.

  “Berkeley, let me get the gas. I’m the one who begged you to take this trip, right? I got this.”

  It’s like he hypnotizes me or something whenever he has me pinned in that unusually green gaze of his. I no
d, all out of arguments.

  It dawns on me that I’m never out of arguments, except where my father is concerned. I scowl at my handsome navigator. “Fine. But I’m going to suggest a road trip next, and you’re going to let me pay for the gas.”

  I take note of the fact that the Carolina humidity is causing the hair around his neck to curl slightly, almost as if it’s beckoning me to touch it. To brush it off of his thick, solid neck. Saliva fills my mouth, and I swallow thickly.

  His lip curls crookedly, and my heart flutters in its cage. “I think it’s hilarious that you don’t see how that’s still a win-win for me, honey.”

  Chuckling, he exits the car and heads into the store.

  Around the same time that Dare disappears inside, I hop out to pump the gas. I know he would do it for me when he comes back out, but I’m anxious to get to the university, so I’m already pulling the pump out of its holder when a carful of college guys drives up beside me.

  I see them all look, and I roll my eyes as I punch my information into the automated cashier machine. I’m taken totally by surprise when the boldest one in the bunch comes strutting right up to me. I instantly picture a puffed-up peacock in my head, and I snort quietly.

  “Hey, sexy,” he says.

  I almost gag. Oh, my God. Seriously? How did I ever date college guys, even when I was in college?

  I ignore him completely, pulling my sunglasses down over my eyes and reading the meter.

  “Don’t be like that, sweetheart. I was just wondering if you knew where the party was tonight.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see him drag his eyes slowly down the entire length of my body, and I shake with a disgusted convulsion.

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore. His friends in the car beside us are whistling and being generally obnoxious, and I’ve had enough of the whole game.

  “Not interested. Here with someone. ’Kay?”

  He glances around, and his grin only grows wider. He fingers his spiky blond hair and steps closer to me. “Funny. I don’t see anyone, sweetness. So it looks like you’re here with me.”

  He reaches out then, wraps an arm around my hips. His fingers brush the bare skin of my thighs, and I gasp at how forward he’s being. Then he yanks me toward him until my body is pressed flush against his. I can see how watery blue his irises are and how dilated his pupils are. Drugs. Perfect.

  I start looking toward the building for Dare, and suddenly he’s there. He towers, literally towers, over my intimidator and yanks his arms free of my waist. Shoving me behind him, he glares down at College Boy. The guy backs up, holding his hands up in front of him as he eyes Dare’s solidly muscular build, angry glinting eyes, and the silver chain holding his dog tags around his neck.

  “Sorry, dude. Didn’t know she belonged to you.” The college guy continues muttering his apologies as he slinks back to his now-silent buddies.

  I glance up at Dare with a shaky smile. “Thanks, hero.”

  His eyes are still glinting furiously as he stares down at me. “Never. Never will I let someone touch you like that when you’re with me. And if it happens when you’re not with me, I need to know about it. Okay?”

  Oh, I get the message loud and clear. And I’m conflicted. Should I be offended, because this is the twenty-first century and modern woman and all of that? Or should I be totally hot and bothered that the pure male energy of this man just scared off a carful of punks like that?

  My current reaction? Definitely the latter. My stomach clenches tighter as he leans in and gets up in my personal space.

  “You okay?”

  I nod. I’m definitely more than okay, except for the rubbery feeling in my legs and the jitters fluttering around in my stomach. But Dare doesn’t need to know all of that.

  I’ve been protected my whole life. It’s not a new feeling for me. But the strong, almost oppressive desire I feel to be protected by Dare? To be a woman that he wants to hold on to and cherish? That desire is overwhelming. I shake my head to clear it and climb back into the car.

  When we arrive on campus, I park outside the Arts building and we head inside. A strange, giddy feeling is starting to creep over me as we get closer to the gallery. I love this place. I spent four years of my life in this building, creating and designing, and it was the best four years of my life to date. Sharing it with Dare isn’t something I expected to get behind, but now that I’m doing it, it just feels right.

  God, wait until Mea hears that. She’ll cackle her tiny little head off, and then she’ll make fun of me for weeks afterward. Yeah, probably gonna leave that out of the next bestie chat.

  Just before we walk inside, my phone chimes with a text notification. I pull it out and check it.

  Back in town. Want to talk 2nite?

  Reality hits me when I read Grisham’s message. I sigh, putting the phone back in my pocket.

  Dare’s eyes narrow slightly when he looks at me. “Problem?”

  I shake my head. “Not really. Just a…complication.”

  His eyes darken even further, but he says nothing else.

  I lead Dare down a main hallway until we come to a sign that says ART GALLERYwith an arrow pointing down a path to our right. Suddenly, I’m full of nervous energy. What if he thinks my paintings suck? What if he starts thinking I’m some weird, artsy chick after this? What if…

  “Hey,” he says, right up by my ear. His lips commit the barest of grazes against the sensitive skin, and a shiver rocks through me. “I can’t wait to see them.”

  I need those words. I need them to allow the calm to enter my system again. I nod, and then we’re walking into the university Art Gallery.

  It’s a plain, rectangular room with stark white walls. The high ceiling boasts several skylights, which bring an array of natural light into the space. Hung on the walls around us are paintings in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Littering the floor in the center are pedestals holding impressive sculptures.

  I sigh when the familiar sense of peace cloaks me. I haven’t been here since graduation, and God, I’ve missed the place.

  I lead him to the wall where three of my pieces hang. I nibble my thumb as he wanders along the wall, just staring.

  He stares first at my painting of a purple lily, floating in a sea of blue with a glinting of the sun reflecting off of the water. Then he moves on to a bright sunburst, filled with hues of brilliant oranges and blazing reds. The last painting is a portrait. It’s of a young girl with wild blond curls, running in a clear green pasture, her arms extended out behind her, as she appears to have not a care in the world.

  That girl is me, only the me I always wished I could be.

  I’m holding my breath without realizing I’m doing it. I might as well be stripping down naked in the middle of this room for this man. That act would be no less revealing, no less exposing, than showing him my artwork.

  When he finally turns to face me, his eyes are a swirling cloud of dark and unreadable emotion. He stands perfectly still, just sizing me up with his penetrating gaze. I shift my feet, dying to know what he’s thinking but too terrified to ask.

  Then he eliminates the distance between us, wraps me in his arms, and presses his lips to mine.

  The kiss is unexpected, and it’s not the gentle sweetness of our kiss just out of the rain. His lips move hard against mine, his tongue prying my lips open in order to taste, no, to take, what’s inside. My hands clutch at his biceps as he grips me tightly to his chest, and I rise onto my tiptoes so I can meet his relentless lips with my own. This kiss is Dare’s rawness unleashed, and where our first kiss left me breathless, this one is going to leave me soulless.

  My knees buckle beneath me, and his strong arms remain steady around my waist.

  Then, just as quickly as he took me, he releases me, and I stumble backward. He catches me by both wrists before I can lose my footing, his eyes burning straight into mine.

  His chest rises and falls swiftly as his fingers curl around mine. “I’ve never see
n anything so beautiful.”

  His words are a weight off my shoulders, and an arrow in my heart. We stare at each other for another long moment until I have to pull my gaze away for fear of being swallowed completely whole by the consuming energy that is Dare Conners.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He pulls me to his broad chest, and I cave into him. His musky, soapy scent washes over me, and I inhale shakily. He just smells like Dare, dark and sweet at the same time. I inhale deeply, and I feel him do the same against my hair.

  “Thank you for showing me,” he says softly. “Now I’m gonna have to work on getting you to make one for me.”

  Oh, the man is so clueless. He could probably ask me to paint a picture of him while I stand naked in the freezing rain and I’d agree. The less he knows about how much I’m starting to like him, to crave his company more and more, the better. Wouldn’t want him using such knowledge to his advantage, would I? Then I’d really be screwed.

  It’s a little later than lunchtime, and our stomachs are growling, so I take him to eat at a diner I used to love when I lived in town.

  “What’s good here?” he asks with a teasing lift of his lip.

  I bite back a smile, remembering the first question he ever asked me. “Everything’s good here.”

  His grin grows wider as he puts his menu down on the table. He clasps his hands together on top of it and leans back in his seat. “Well, then, let’s get one of everything.”

  And we almost do just that. We get a number of dishes to share, and all the fried yumminess is as delicious as I remember. Stuffed, we sit back and stare at each other. I’m suddenly feeling forlorn at the thought of having to end this day with him.

  He must be reading my expression, because he says, “We don’t have to go home yet.”

  I know I have to get back to talk to Grisham. There’s no way I’m going to accept his proposal, and the sooner I tell him the better. The thought occurs to me that I should probably tell Dare about Grisham, but I just don’t want to put a damper on this amazing day. I’ve seen so many sides of Dare today. I’ve seen his scary-protective side, and I’ve seen him happy. I’ve seen him full and satisfied, and I’ve seen him emotional. I just want to keep seeing all of the facets that make up this fascinating man. So I don’t bring up Grisham.