Inner Core: (Stark, #2) (3 page)

“No, I didn’t,” I say quietly.

He turns to look out the window and from a glimpse of the side of his face I can see the muscles in his jaw sawing under his bristly skin.
Okay, if we've gotten to this point we might as well continue, now is a good of time as ever to face this topic. We should have discussed it a while ago
.

“Are we going to address the real mammoth in the car?”

He pivots his stare back to me and studies me with tapered eyes. He lifts his hands to his nose in a praying pose, the wheels of his mind visibly working.

“You know, Daniel, t
he best way to solve a problem is to realize it exists first.” I bite my lips, shifting my eyes back and forth between the road and his face. I knew we'd have to deal with this issue sooner or later; we can't just sweep it under the rug and hope for the best. History has a tendency to repeat itself, and every time it has a greater impact. Hell if I go through this again with my eyes shut.

He rests his hand on my thigh and clears his throat. “Yes, I plead guilty for screwing things up, but I did serve my sentence. Hales, the thought of losing you was the most severe punishment I could get.” He glances my way and the sincere, determined look in his eyes overwhelms me with its intensity. “I should have trusted you from the beginning. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I should have asked you first for your side of the story,” he says, and my heart swells. He's admitting to something I never thought he would. Same thing that made me doubt any chance of full forgiveness.

“But the thought of
you,
of all people, betraying me...”

I cringe.

“I guess I felt vulnerable, and I don’t do vulnerable, I don’t know how to deal with vulnerable.” He exhales audibly, frustrated. “I did think for a while there that you betrayed my trust—and you know just how highly I value trust. I saw nothing but red when I saw that article, Hales. And I shouldn’t have. I should have talked to you first.” He squeezes my thigh. “I apologize for the way I’ve treated you, baby. Never again. You deserve better and that’s what you’ll get.” He licks his lower lip and continues, “I’ll do anything not to lose you again.” The last part comes out softer, emotional.

A surge of otherworldy adoration fills my heart at the sincerity of his words. “
Love” can’t begin to describe what I feel for you, D
. After a quick glance at the rearview mirror I make a sharp turn onto the graveled shoulder and stop. Daniel looks back at the road quizzically. I bite my lips and yank on my seatbelt, hurriedly, climbing clumsily onto his thighs.

“Woah.” He says in surprise. As he realizes what I'm doing, a sweet, crooked, boyish smile appears on his lips. I huff away a curl from my face, and he chuckles softly. His eyes light up, and lock with mine. “Hey there,” he says with a side smile.

I smirk. “To what do I have the honor?”  I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him feverishly.

“I just had to,” I explain, grinning, as we pull back. He smirks and leaves a small, chaste kiss on my lips, I mirror him and we both chuckle somewhat goofily. He wraps me tight, and presses me to him. Through the hug complain comes from his stomach, a complain in the form of an aggravated grumble. I snicker and he shrugs. I pat his toned chest. “Okay, okay, I get it, food…”

“Will you be climbing your way back as elegantly and femininely as you got here?” He grins wickedly at me. “Or you might be using this great invention...” He taps the door. I give him a mischievous look, which he laughs off, and return the same way I came. He snickers, watching me amusedly, slapping my butt as it so “gracefully” moves past his chest. I buckle up and beam at him. As I hit the turning signal, Daniel says solemnly, “I meant every word I said.” It leaves me pensive and silent. On one hand, there’s so much I want to say back about how hurt I was, about how he can never act that way again if he wants us to work out—but on the other he's just apologized for the exact same things I wanted to confront him with.

Should I keep chewing on this or should I just let it go?

Daniel examines my face and his takes on a naughty look. “Miss Grace. Have you lost your words now?
Do you need a moment?” I giggle and roll my eyes at him.
“Well,” I say, “as long as we both agree that we should trust each other and communicate, this breakup wasn’t for nothing.” I choose the non-nagging option and put my hand on the palm resting on my thigh. He takes it in his, lifts it to his mouth and plants a warm, lengthy kiss.

“Communication and trust, Daniel.”

“Communication and trust,” he repeats to the center of my palm.

“But,” I nearly stutter, slightly queasy, “I should also apologize.” His brows knit as he watches me. “I should have been more careful talking about your private life in public.” I chew on my cheek. “You can’t even imagine how bad I felt—and still feel—about all of that ending up public.” I swallow hard over the lump that has momentarily formed in my throat.

His answer to my apology is another kiss to the center of my hand and a warm, “I love you, Hales.”

It takes all of my strength for tears not to roll down my face. “And me you, Daniel.”
To outer space and back
.

“Now that we got today’s pleasantries out of the way, where’s this restaurant you promised me?”

I laugh and pull into the parking lot.

As we make our way to the entrance,
I inquire about the new software release that had preoccupied him for far too long. “How is the situation at work? Is there any improvement?”

“There's some progress, I’d say. Frankly, I’m optimistic that we’ll eventually pull it off, though I have to still chaperone it more than I'd like.” His voice is weary as he says the last part.

And yet here you are.

“I missed you,” he says, using his sometimes creepy innate talent to read my mind.

“I missed us,” I reply.

The voluptuous young hostess smiles professionally as she approaches, then for real as she sees Daniel up close. Luckily there's a vacant table at the garden cafe, so she
immediately seats us at the far end of the balcony. 

“Your waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your brunch,” she says, handing us our menus. She eats Daniel up with her ogling and concludes with a red seductive wide grin. I frown at her and glance at Mr. Oblivious, who’s deeply engaged in his menu.

Without looking up, he reaches for my chair and pulls it closer til it touches his with the faint rasping sound of metal against metal
. I smile at him and turn to get my sunglasses from my bag, cleaning them with the hem of my white cotton shirt before putting them on. 

“What do you want?” Daniel asks, tipping his chin at the menu. He adds, “You're still too far away. I need you closer.” He drinks me up with glittering eyes and that up-to-no-good curve of his lips—the same expression that has hijacked me so many times, it’s hard to keep count.

“I’m right beside you.” My answer is ornamented with a flirty tone.

“Still too far,” Daniel says. He opens his legs to allow some space between them, then turns to grab my bare legs that stretch out of my cutout jeans and drapes them between his.

“This is a respectable place, you know.”

“As if I give a fuck.” He grins and tugs my hand, pulling me close enough to connect his mouth to mine in a ravenous kiss.

“Much better,” he murmurs, nibbling under my ear.

“I’ll have coffee,” I say.

He arches an eyebrow, studying me carefully, his face a degree more on edge. “Have you eaten lately?”

Define “eat”. If any sort of caffeine beverage is food, then yes; if not, then I'll go with no. Thanks to you…

“Eaten?” I play innocent.

He tilts his head to the side and twists his mouth in a “you're kidding, right?” look.

“Well?”

“Not much.” I look at him from under my lashes and send him a coy smile.

“You’ll start now, even if I have to force feed you.”

Stow away your feeding tube, psycho.

He looks at me for a minute and then laces his hands into the hair at my temples. His mouth curves up at the side to a small, pointed smile.

Inclining his handsome face toward mine, he whispers into my lips, “God, I missed you.” The tip of his tongue traces my bottom lip and slowly but determinedly makes its way deeper.

As we meet, our tongues start a slow, sensual dance. My blood warms up so quickly it feels like the tip of his tongue controls my body temperature. I lean toward him, and the hands that are twined through my hair draw me deeper into our kiss.

A polite cough breaks the spell. Reluctantly, we break contact. We look at each other meaningfully, and before finally addressing the waiter I whisper back, “I missed you, too.” Daniel’s lips pull up and his eyes send me that special glee.

“What can I get you?” The waiter's voice prompts us to look up.

“We’ll have a dozen oysters on the half-shell—six iced, six Rockefeller—the tuna avocado tartare, a lobster skewer and the Kobe club.”
Huh
?
Are we menstruating or something?

“Anything to drink?” The pimpled guy turns his stare from me to Daniel and back.

“Kir Royal, a Bloody Mary and a
double shot, extra hot cappuccino, and go easy on the froth.” I beam at him as he orders my coffee: exactly the way I like it. He turns to wink at me. I grin.

“Will that be all, sir?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And who, exactly, is going to eat all of that?” I have to ask; he ordered enough food for a small army.

“You.” For a moment I think he really means it, and I’m about to rant about waste and world hunger, but when his lips quirk up; I shake my head and smile.

“I’m starving, baby.” He pats his nonexistent gut.

As we wait for the food to arrive I tell Daniel about my weekend at my parents' and he fills me in on his last couple of weeks: long days at work and intense nocturnal workouts at his home gym.

“Hey, D.” I beam at him. He turns to give me his undivided attention.

“You know, you couldn’t be more wrong about Josh.” Creases form in his forehead as he regards me with a quizzical stare.
That Ken-doll look-alike, preppy boss of mine with the Colgate smile
.

“My boss, Josh. Not only is he not into me, he's gay, and he has a very distinguish taste for exotic-looking hotties.” My lips curve up. “Exotic looking hotties, as in, my beloved Ian.” My Ian that, apart from being a green eyed and flawlessly olive-skinned model, is also one of the few people who owns a chunk of my heart.

“Well, you do cloud my judgement, Hales. I blame you.” He chuckles. “And I’m glad for you to be surrounded by gay men.”

I roll my eyes at him and he snorts out a short laugh.

“Here you go.” The waiter sets our piles of food on the table and nods politely.

Daniel hands me a bubbly drink with a cherry at the bottom and lifts his Bloody Mary. “To lots of makeup sex.” He grins at me, and I clink his glass with a matching smile.

He takes one of the iced oysters and looks at me with a suggestive, crooked stretch of his lip. “Head back. Open your mouth,” he commands in his husky, authoritative voice. I eye him in sheer contentment.

From shattered to this, in the blink of a night sleep
.

As I oblige, he slides the oyster out of the shell, through my parted lips. I let the salty, lemony, chilled delight slide down my throat, savoring every bit of it. Before I manage to straighten my posture, his hand holds me firmly at the nape of my neck, bringing me closer to him while his nose nuzzles at my temple. His lip brushes mine slowly, very slowly. A surge of warmth nestles in my stomach.

I indulge Daniel with the same feeding treatment I so enjoyed just a moment ago.

As I turn to take a sip of my drink, he suddenly drifts away. I study him, alerted by how his forehead wrinkles and his lips form into a tense, thin line.

“What is it?” I stop with the glass next to my lips.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Hales,” he says low, causing immediate tension, tension that keeps on building while Daniel takes his time weighing his words.

Once he finally opens his mouth to speak a short chime interrupts us from under the table. I look at him warily; I can’t help feeling concerned.

What does he have to tell me, especially looking this grave?
He twists his mouth and curses under his breath something incoherent about timing as he breaks our intense eye contact. Fetching his phone from his pocket, he checks the screen, then answers with an annoyed air. Right after a short exchange of single words in his ragged trait that don’t make much sense to me, he suddenly loosens up and chuckles, then hands me the phone with an amused half-smile.

“For me?” I ask, surprised.

He nods and takes a swig of his drink, ending it with a lick of his lip.

“Hello?” I answer tentatively, my eyes still roaming over Daniel, who is now doing a mighty fine job of inhaling the food on the table.

“Gorgeous!” Ian’s cheerful voice nearly punctures my eardrum, channeling my full attention to him.

“Hey, you.” I pull the devise away from my ear, fearing further possible damage.

“So, there's a rumor going 'round here about termites invading the Windy City.” I giggle, recalling Ian's absurd theory that Daniel and I are one another’s termites with the ridiculous logic that terminates mate for life.

“Well, I can certainly validate this rumor for you,” I respond, glancing at Daniel, and am rewarded with his trademarked lopsided, bad boy grin from above a burger.