Kayden who murmured, “Mommy,” in his disrupted sleep.
“It’s okay, sweet boy. It’s okay.”
The whole time Ryder kept begging me from behind, “Dakota, please don’t do this. Come inside. I need to know you’re safe.”
I choked over an incredulous laugh as I shut Kayden’s door and scrambled to mine. “Yeah, well I don’t feel safe here.”
Jumping into the driver’s seat, I slammed the door and locked it, gasping as I pushed the button to start the engine. Ryder pressed his palms to the window. “Dakota! Please!”
I threw the car into reverse and flew backward down his drive. I rammed on the brakes when I hit the road.
The man stood in the spray of the headlights staring at me.
Broken.
Grieved.
Midnight.
Darkness I’d allowed to cover me. To take me whole. Possess me.
I put the car in drive, refusing the lure that called me back as I gunned it and flew down the street. I swiped at the tears that kept streaming from my eyes as I made it to the stop sign, and I carefully eased out onto Manchester, trying to keep from throwing up as I passed by Time River Market & Café.
I couldn’t go there.
Couldn’t go home.
Couldn’t go to my mother’s.
So I went to the one place where someone would truly understand. Driving under the blanket of stars thirty miles outside of town on the desolate two-lane road.
I slowed when I got to the turn-off to Hutchins Ranch, and I took the dirt road over the pastures that led to the main area of the property.
My lights cut through the darkness, brightening against the front of the mansion where I came to a stop in the circular drive.
Paisley was already opening the front door by the time I made it up the porch steps with Kayden in my arms.
“Dakota, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
And I gave myself over to the sobs that wracked me when she pulled us into her embrace.
Because no.
I was not okay.
And I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be.
FORTY-FIVE
DAKOTA
TWENTY-THREE YEARS OLD
Dakota got to the tree first that night, and she let her legs dangle where she sat swaying on the branch. Cool air caressed her flesh as a mild breeze murmured through, though she felt an instant heat when awareness suddenly flashed over her from behind.
A comfort that left her so unsettled she felt her nerves scatter beneath her flesh.
She shifted so she could look at him. The man stood at the end of the path with his hands stuffed in his pockets and that black hair gently waving in the wind.
Something so stark and fierce about him though there was a softness that floated around him like an embrace.
He eased forward, and she couldn’t help but notice there seemed to be something hesitant about him tonight. Something that slowed his steps, like maybe he was questioning coming there.
But she swallowed the insecurities down because she was past being a hostage to them. Her confidence had grown so much while she’d been away at college, but there was something about Ryder that always set her off-kilter.
Made her feel shy and fluttery.
Beautiful but somehow indistinct.
It probably had a lot to do with the fact that she’d seen Amelia coming out of his shop three days ago when she’d swung by to say hello. But he’d denied them being together the whole summer. Had said they’d had sex before, but he’d ended it more than four months ago.
She had to trust in it.
She didn’t have any reason not to believe him.
And it wasn’t like she had a right to be angry with him if he was sleeping with someone, anyway.
But she couldn’t deny that he felt like hers.
Like her own perfect secret.
Without saying anything, he hoisted himself onto the branch, all his sleek muscles coiling in the smooth, quick motion, and he plopped down beside her.
Nerves skittered and crashed, and tingles spread up her arm when their skin brushed.
Flames at the contact.
“Hey,” she finally murmured, and she handed him the tin that contained the lemon bars she’d spent the evening preparing for him. “I brought something for you.”
“You always have something for me, Cookie.” His voice was so gruff. A scrape of seduction.
That’s the way she’d begun to feel. Like he was slowly seducing her.
Turning her to putty.
Leaving her a puddle of need.
And she’d started to wonder if it wasn’t the same for him.
The way he’d look at her. The way the air sparked between them. The way he’d stay for so long, like he couldn’t bring himself to leave, though there was something in his gaze that always made him shut down.