“Tell me one thing—how the hell do you leave a girl stranded on her wedding day and then start texting her like it’s no big deal?” My fingers curl into a fist I bring to my jaw, scratching my face with my knuckles. “I can’t wrap my head around that.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Dakota sighs and looks away from me. “It isn’t important...”
Nevermore, you’re wrong. What he did to you was pure bullshit.
She’s right, though. I don’t need to rub it in.
I don’t need to welcome hurt memories to dance on her heart.
Damn.
“My apologies. I regret if I’ve said something stupid again. I do respect your privacy, even if I don’t always show it,” I say, leaning forward in my seat.
She’s quiet for a minute before she finally meets my eyes again.
“I appreciate it. It’s okay.”
The car jolts to a stop at the base of the scenic lookout when she stops speaking. Dakota falls forward next to me. I throw an arm out to catch her.
Somehow, I stop her from falling, but her breasts press snugly against my hand.
“Umm—” She blushes, but makes no effort to move more than gravity pushing her back.
Not what I need.
Not at fucking all.
She’s so cute, so delectable, I could kiss her.
And the way she looks at me, flushed red with full lips, her perfectly palm-sized breasts teasing my hand...
No, sir.
She’s just my employee. How many times did I say that to Wyatt?
Yeah, I don’t believe it either, but I still need to pull my head out of my ass right now.
“This is our stop. Stay there,” I tell her, getting out and rounding her side to open the door for her.
“Have you been here before?” I ask as she follows me up a winding, hilly sidewalk to a platform.
“Yeah. Maybe once after I first moved to town.”
“The stars aren’t as impressive as the North Dakota flats, I’m sure,” I say. “Still, when you see that view of the city and the ships at night, you can’t help falling in love.”
“That’s kinda beautiful. I’m a small-town girl at heart, but I always love a pretty scene.”
“How do you like Seattle?”
“I love it, honestly. The arts are alive here in a way that’s totally different from Dallas. We have a lot of creative, crafty people there, but it’s pretty rustic. Out here, you get all the flavors. Modern, historic, experimental, international...”
She’s speaking to my soul. I’m not quite sure how to handle that.
Damn if I can’t resist the urge to slide an arm around her waist and pull her closer when we’ve reached the top of the overlook and its platform.
“It’s a narrow path up here. Watch your step and stay to the side,” I say, pretending that’s the only reason I’ve put my hands on her.
She smiles.
“You’re worried about me again? Or are you still freaking out about me lawyering up to leave you penniless?”
“This is America, Nevermore. We all live in fear of frivolous suits, but I’d rather you not fall, all legal wrangling aside.”
“You’re such a charmer,” she says, dripping sarcasm. “But honestly, you’re not the ginormous jackass I thought you were.”
“Thank you. I think,” I say with a smile.
“When you tried to attack me—”
“Attack you?”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, when you accosted me for my cinnamon roll, I thought you were just some entitled rich prick.”
“And what do you think now?” More importantly, why do I care?
“You’re a grump. You’re demanding, focused, and sometimes just rude. But deep down? After what I saw tonight with your friend, I’d call you a sweetheart.” She looks at me. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she adds quickly.
“Bah, I liked the first part. You’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”
She laughs as I sit down on the bench with a breathtaking view of the night. It’s a small seat, almost a ledge if not for the safety railing, and she stumbles.
I swear, I’m not trying to pull her into my lap and lock my arms around her.
“This isn’t inappropriate. Obviously, I’d like to stop you from going over the edge.”
She curls against my chest and smiles up at me, a pretty splash of moonlight in her eyes.
“Of course.”
Then it happens. Something that can’t be trumped up to accidents, however unlikely.
She lays her small hand over mine, nervously at first.
I bristle.
“Let me guess. You’re wondering who Wyatt is and why he’s so important?” I say, desperate to keep talking so I don’t let my mouth get other ideas.
“Yeah.” She nods firmly. “You said 'war buddy,' but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“He saved my life in Iraq.” I close my eyes and I’m back there again.
Hot flashes of death light up a sky reeking with black smoke.
My skull feels dislodged from the deafening improvised blast.
I breathe in Dakota’s flowery, faintly minty scent to blot out the stink, holding her tighter, anchoring myself to the present.