Taking Root (The Eros Tales Book 1)

by Katherine McIntyre

  He wanted her unrestrained and real.

  She leaned into his embrace, tilting her head to press her lips to his. Adrian deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her hot, ready mouth. She tasted sweet and tart, like raspberries, and his fingertips traveled along her chin before sliding down her neck. Danny leaned into him, a sinful moan escaping her, the sound traveling straight to his cock. His grip around her waist tightened, and he hardened as she melted against him like they were back at the club, drunk on lust.

  Maybe he could turn off all the shit swirling around in his brain for a little while. All the worries, the fears, and the haunting memories from work. Stuff it into the box where he smashed away the rest of the junk he wouldn’t burden others with.

  Maybe they could fuck hard and fast the rest of the night, a tangle of limbs, sweat, and need. Ignoring the emotions they were both running from.

  Except he wasn’t programmed that way, even on the worst of days.

  The doorbell rang, and Adrian pulled away, the soft sigh of hers a puff against his lips. The heavy-lidded look she gave him was doused in lust, an inferno begging to be lit, and his libido screamed at him to satisfy.

  “Looks like the pizza’s here,” he said, stepping away from her. He snagged his wallet from the kitchen counter where he’d left it as he headed toward the front door. The bell rang again before he could grab the knob, and when he opened it, the savory scents of sauce and piping hot cheese greeted him. His stomach rumbled in response.

  “Here,” Adrian said, passing over the cash for the pie as he swapped with the lanky guy holding the cardboard box with a disinterested look on his face.

  The door clicked as he shut it and carried the pizza down the hall toward the kitchen. Danny already waited for him there, standing behind his kitchen island and searching in the drawers around the counter.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked, placing the box between them.

  She didn’t respond, just kept perusing through the top drawers until an “Aha!” came from her. Danny lifted the bottle opener and cracked into the first of the IPAs she’d brought. She passed it on over to him.

  “Try it,” she said. “I’m hoping it’ll go with pizza.”

  He grabbed plates for them and settled onto the barstool around his kitchen island, one he used far more often than the big cherrywood table he bought on a whim for the dining room. At the time, he’d hoped Betty would start trying for a kid with him after they got married, and the tradition of big family dinners could continue. Now, looking at the massive table stabbed him in the chest. Even now, having dinner in his house with a woman he adored, he couldn’t be further from the future he hoped for.

  One of these days she’d vanish again, and he’d be left with no answers. All the potential growing between them would shatter to the ground, and he’d be left alone again. Life was too short to waste on a future that couldn’t exist.

  He took a bite into his pepperoni pizza, but it tasted like ash on his tongue. The sight of Nivea’s eyes going blank haunted him, the light dimming from them as he failed to save her. Adrian took a swig from the IPA, but even beer didn’t offer a wash of relief.

  “Match made in heaven,” Danny said, lifting the slice of pizza she just bit into. She chewed thoughtfully, casting more than a couple of glances in his direction. Yeah, he was shit company today. He felt like an idiot for believing he could somehow break past the walls she put up, because right now the superficial way she danced around from light topic to light topic itched under his skin.

  Danny’s brows furrowed when he didn’t respond, and she placed her slice on the plate. “Hey, I know you said it was a rough day at work. Did you want to talk about it?”

  God, he did. And she’d been amazing about Betty. However, every time he gave another piece of himself and got nothing back, it scraped away at his insides. Adrian shook his head. “Not unless you want to share on your end.”

  Danny scowled and tipped back her beer. “Look, you know I can’t. Fuck, Adrian, if I could, believe me, you’d be the one person I would tell.”

  His chest strained from this maelstrom, too much wanting to explode from him, and his grip tightened on the bottle. “Well then, what are we even doing?”

  Once the words left his lips, he wanted to steal them back. Danny reared as if he’d slapped her. Her green eyes flashed, not with anger but a sadness so profound he wouldn’t be able to talk himself out of that one.

  “It’s been a shit day,” he tried to justify. “I should’ve called you and cancelled because I wasn’t in the right headspace.”

  Danny shook her head. Her eyes grew glassy, but not a drop spilled out. “No, you’re right. Adrian, from the beginning of this we both knew you couldn’t do casual, and that’s all I’ll ever be.” Her tone remained firm as anything even as her words came out robotic and forced, like she kept this line prepared from the moment they started seeing each other.

  After all, she’d been planning on leaving him from the start.

  “Why do you push people away?” He couldn’t help himself. Nothing added up. Every moment he spent with Danny, she fell into patterns with him, their communication constant, but he caught the lonely glances and her occasional slips. “Fuck, it’s not like you’re some criminal on the run. What is so bad you can’t talk about it with anyone?”

  Danny let out a laugh so acidic it would’ve corroded metal. “Sometimes you aren’t given a choice. I warned you from the start, and obviously, this isn’t something you can handle.”

  The way she stood there, shoulders squared and braced for a fight, killed him. The loneliness in her eyes sometimes faded when they were together, but other times she looked like she might be crushed under the weight of the emotions coursing through them. Danny awakened a yearning he hadn’t felt in far too long, but even worse, hope unfurled like crocuses in early spring even as he’d tried to talk himself down.

  Adrian let out a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. This had never been just about him, though. It had been a mutual arrangement for running from their demons.

  “Danny, we’re this close to something amazing, but as much as I want to, I can’t keep giving you my truth when you’re keeping part of yourself behind a wall. And if it was a matter of patience, I’d wait forever for you. You know that.” He started, not knowing where he went, just knowing he didn’t want this to end. She’d offered freedom for the first time in far too long.

  “I know,” was all she said as she stood and grabbed her purse from the counter. Before he could say anything else and before he could continue their conversation, she strode to the hallway. Adrian followed her in time to watch her walk out the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Danny closed the door behind her, she didn’t run off. For a moment, she leaned against the door, debating whether she should walk back in. If they could argue this out like a normal couple. And then she remembered she was the daughter of a serial killer and would be in WitSec for the rest of her shit existence no matter how much she longed to settle down.

  The words were on her lips back there with Adrian. She spread her palms across the door, wishing she could go back. Wishing tonight had taken a different direction. Wishing she could be someone else.

  Out of all her regrets, she didn’t regret him. Meeting Adrian Dukas again had been a balm to her battered soul. He’d been everything she yearned for since those lazy days at Hanahan High and everything robbed from her when her father’s truth came to light.

  Except now she hurt so much she could barely breathe.

  Danny peeled herself from the door, heading for her car. She glanced at Adrian’s house, memorizing the sprawling rancher with a slate roof that offset the cream exterior. It was the sort of house destined to become a home, and the moment she entered, everything about it screamed Adrian. He owned a home to raise a family, and anyone who’d known him for five seconds understood that about him. Settling down was scorched into his DNA, and he had the patient, atten
tive personality to boot. Men were rarely made like him, at least, not from what she’d experienced.

  She popped into Bella and revved the engine of her Subaru. Even gripping the wheel, the normal control didn’t sink into her bones. She reached the end of the block before the shakes overtook her. Danny rammed the car into park and sank against the steering wheel, her fingers bone-white with her grip. The weight of what happened crashed down.

  “Fuck,” Danny gasped out, her throat tight and her eyes burning. The sobs wracked her body a moment later. Hot tears poured down her cheeks from everything she’d pent up for far too long. Adrian had been so, so dangerous. Around him, she’d allowed herself to dream. She’d allowed herself to hope for brief flashes she might be able to keep him. Like she might find a place to call home and form the family she longed for.

  With each passing year, more and more of her temporary friends became mothers, and each one she met sliced another mark into her skin. Because she would never be allowed to bring a life into the world. Not while her father remained on the run. What Adrian would never know was she shared the same dream. Their souls called out for each other like the shore beckoning the tide, and God, she wanted a future with him so badly she couldn’t breathe.

  Danny sagged against the steering wheel of Bella, the tears unrelenting. He wanted her to lean on him, and she wanted to. Hell, she needed to. But if her handlers caught the hint someone knew about her true identity, there wouldn’t be a discussion. She’d be plucked out of Charleston faster than she could spit. She made the mistake early on at eighteen and after the tongue-lashing she’d gotten, never again.

  She turned the engine back on, her shoulders shaking from the sobs that wracked her body. God, his expression back there was as haunted as she’d ever seen him. Whatever happened to him at work clearly clawed inside his ribcage and tore out his heart. Danny had just wanted to reach out and wrap her arms around him, to heal those wounds like he tried to heal hers. Danny jammed on the gas pedal, zooming away from his house as fast as her car could take her.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced at it through blurry eyes. Adrian.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Danny raced down the highway, but she didn’t head home. Her handlers told her to stay out in the public as much as possible, because Kyle Peterson traveled toward Charleston. Any day now he’d arrive with those dead eyes and stained hands, searching for her. She wanted to retch, but whether over her father or the situation she left behind, she hadn’t the slightest. Either way, her stomach squeezed tight, and the nausea rocked through her.

  She entered the bustling main stretch of Charleston, finding a spot to park close to the Gin Mill. Her stomach flopped. If Matty worked behind the bar, she wouldn’t be able to escape the tidal wave of pain at the thought of Adrian. But if Mitch manned the taps tonight, she might have something remotely familiar to latch onto rather than starting fresh in some random bar. Danny pulled to a stop along the cobblestone sidewalks and flipped down her visor to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

  Her mascara had streaked, so she grabbed a crumpled paper towel from her canvas bag and wiped away the mess. Apart from the slight redness around her eyes and the blotchy spots across her cheeks, she could make a leap at normal. Danny sank back in the seat, her legs shaking. After the way she and Adrian clashed, she couldn’t face other people right now. Not after she’d walked out on him for good.

  Danny dialed Cam’s number and listened to the ring.

  “Hey?” Cam responded, her tone quick rather than the usual comfortable drawl.

  “It’s Danny. Just wondering if you happened to be out on the town tonight?” She held a ragged breath back, hoping even as she knew the inevitable response.

  “Sorry, girlie. I’m on my way to a hot date tonight,” Cam responded. “Catch up with you at work?”

  “Definitely. Have fun,” Danny responded, wishing with all her might the girl would recognize the hoarseness in her voice. Wishing someone understood she reached out the one way she could. That she’d been hurting for so long, but she’d never been able to tear off the duct tape over her mouth.

  One person knew. Every time, Adrian managed to read her right.

  And she’d walked out on him.

  She needed a drink. Danny stepped out of her car, checking the weight of her pistol at her side before reaching in her purse to confirm the pepper spray remained there. At this time of the night, the streets bustled with people as the sun faded into the horizon. In the distance, the splash of the sea echoed through the town; however, the scent of salt in the breeze made her think of him. Her stomach curled again. If she didn’t throw herself into a distraction, she would be sick.

  Couples strolled by on either side of her, but every approaching shadow had Danny reaching for her pepper spray. Walking through town by her lonesome hadn’t been a great plan, but heading home to her quiet complex tonight would be even worse. The Gin Mill came into view at the end of the block, the driftwood sign offering a flash of familiarity. Her heart thudded louder as she stepped to the door.

  She peered inside, the smooth jazzy strains washing over her as the crisp scent of juniper wafted her way. Mitch stood behind the bar, bustling back and forth to pour a pint for one customer while switching to the shaker for another. Her shoulders relaxed.

  Danny wound her way over to the first empty barstool in sight, her heels clicking on the stained wooden flooring. She’d figured tonight would end with her heels discarded on the floor of Adrian’s bedroom. Their makeout sessions had been growing longer and longer every time they met up, but this had been the first time they hung out in private. And when she’d walked in to find him dripping from the shower, the towel wrapped around his delicious body, God, she thought they were on.

  So fast, it all crumbled out of her grasp.

  Danny slouched into the barstool, not in the mood to even make eye contact with the folks she sat beside.

  A moment later, Mitch strolled up to where she waited, and he flashed her a charming grin. “Glad to see you back here.”

  She forced a smile, even though it wobbled. “Couldn’t keep me away. Where else can I get my gin fix?”

  “Aviation?” he asked, tilting his head toward the full bar lined with glass bottles behind him. She nodded in response, not trusting herself to say much more, and he strode over to grab his metal shaker and went to work. The chatter of this place buzzed at a comfortable level, nothing like the shouts of a sports bar, but no matter where she roamed, she remained encased in granite. Couples sat in the two-seaters lining the wall, the dim amber light sharpening their features, and Danny couldn’t help the lance in her chest.

  If she hurt, she couldn’t imagine how Adrian felt right now. He’d already been an open wound, and she drove jagged glass right into it.

  Mitch stepped in front of her with the drink, his brows furrowed as if he prepared to ask a question. Danny braced herself—the guy seemed more than perceptive—but before he could state anything, someone shouted for him at the other end of the bar.

  So, all he said was “Enjoy,” before darting away. Until he walked off, she hadn’t realized she’d wanted him to ask. She wanted someone, anyone to care.

  Danny tipped back the Aviation, the crisp taste of gin coating her tongue. Not like it refreshed her. Right now, she wanted to drink herself stupid until her mind turned into cottonballs and oblivion. She shouldn’t. Not with her father so close. She needed to be alert and ready to pull a trigger on the man who raised her the moment he appeared. Because that wasn’t next level fucked up.

  Screw sipping at her pale lavender drink—she inhaled it. Even as the cold liquid seared her throat, it didn’t do anything to numb the ache in her chest throbbing like a living, violent thing. The martini glass hit the counter with a click as she swallowed the remnants of her drink. She needed another one, stat.

  Danny nudged it forward and leaned in, trying to catch sight of Mitch. He finished handing off a pint of Guinness and
glanced down the bar to lock eyes with her. He gave her a quick nod, and seconds later he approached, spreading his palms flat on the bar counter.

  “Rough night?” he asked, glancing to the empty glass.

  “You have no idea,” she responded. “Keep ’em coming.”

  Mitch grabbed the shaker and began making the drink, but he lingered by where she sat while he worked. “Word on the street is you and Adrian are a thing. Do I need to wring his neck?”

  The mention of him caused her throat to tighten. No. He hadn’t done anything wrong. God, he was perfect and hurting tonight because of her. She had kept him at a distance, indulging in her own selfishness by dating him in the first place all the while knowing neither of them would be capable of keeping things casual.

  “Come on now.” Danny forced her voice to stay steady and light. “Like it’s always got to be about a guy? Maybe I dropped some fucker in an alley, and I’m feeling a little remorseful about the rough-up.”

  Mitch raised a brow as if he saw right through her shit. “After witnessing you deck a guy firsthand, I’d believe it,” he said. Danny let a breath escape in relief he hadn’t kept on down that trail. If she had to say Adrian’s name out loud, those tears would rush to the surface again. Mitch was a professional, though, and she should’ve expected he would allow her to float along the surface.

  “Just flag me down when you need another,” he said, placing the next Aviation in front of her.

  Two more later, and the numbness descended.

  Where before, the emotions running through her were sharp and jagged, slicing without reprieve, now she floated along, the ache in her chest dulled to a slight throb. Even with this much gin coursing through her system, she couldn’t get rid of the pain. Tonight pried open the concrete wall she’d erected so long ago.