Lost in You (28 page)

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Authors: Sommer Marsden

BOOK: Lost in You
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‘This is?’ he prompted.

Before I could answer, he gathered my wrists in his hands and pinned them down by my sides. His tongue tangled with mine again, his kiss nearly frantic. I felt the same pounding desperation in my body. Now that we were close – now that we were here – I wanted him to understand what was going on inside me. I wanted him to know about the huge emotions slamming through me.

I pushed him back, trying for a deep breath. ‘This is my grand gesture.’ I touched his face. Stroked my thumb over the cut of his jaw. There was just enough stubble there for me to feel its rough texture. I smiled at him.

‘Is it now?’

‘Yes. This is … this is
it
. I can’t fly you anywhere –’

‘I don’t care.’

I put my finger over his lips and he kissed it briefly. But he didn’t move my finger and he didn’t speak any more.

‘Will you listen to me?’ I asked. There was a knot the size of a walnut in my throat. I tried to swallow.

‘Of course,’ he mumbled. Then he kissed my finger again and went silent. His fingers moved softly, restlessly, against my waist. It was almost distracting but not quite. I liked him touching me, so I let it be.

‘I’m sorry.’

Dorian opened his mouth and I pressed my finger to his lips more forcefully. Reminding him. He shut his mouth.

‘I’m sorry I pushed you away because you have money and because I let that …
woman
scare me off.’

Confusion was evident in his eyes and I realised he had no idea what I was talking about. I rushed on.

‘I’m sorry that I did to you what some people in your position would have done to me for not having money. I denied you, assuming I’d never fit into your world. And I might not –’

Again his mouth opened and I covered it with my whole hand this time. Amusement shone in his eyes.

‘I might not fit in your world, but I at least want to try. If you’ll have me. I mean … I …’ I shook my head and tears filled my eyes. ‘This is hard,’ I whispered.

He nodded and smiled behind my hand. The look on his face told me that yes, it is hard, but you can do it.

‘I love you, Dorian. I missed you when you were gone. I … ached for you,’ I said, my voice shivering with unshed tears. ‘When I saw you in the paper with her, I cracked inside.’

I took his face in my hands, trusting him to be quiet as I spoke. ‘I ran away from you and I …’ I shrugged. ‘I’m so sorry. It was unfair. I saw your life as so opposite to mine, I let that dictate my feelings. I couldn’t leave Gram just then, but I shouldn’t have just written you off because you didn’t understand that. Why would you? I think our childhoods were very different.’

He laughed but that was all. Just a half-bitter laugh that he quickly swallowed and covered with a smile.

I touched each button on his plaid button-down. ‘I think mine was full of love and approval and very little money and yours was –’

‘Just the opposite,’ he broke in.

I nodded, feeling sad. ‘Just the opposite.’ Then I gasped.

‘What?’ Dorian asked.

‘Lobster!’ I said.

‘Lobster?
Pour moi?

I cocked my head.

He let me go and laughed, ‘I did just get back from Paris, after all.’

‘Yes, Paris,’ I said, trying not to sound bitter about it.

‘The longest trip of my life,’ he said. ‘My mother, who has mellowed some since my father died, and Natalie, who never will.’

‘How long did it take –’

Again he cut me off. ‘To see the error of my ways? To regret going? To want to jump out of a plane and end it all?’

I giggled, moving past him to pull out the lobster and veg. I dumped them into a bigger pot lined with a colander I’d hauled out of my SUV. Then I put a small pan of butter on the still hot grill but not over the actual coals.

‘Not long,’ he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. His body fitted to mine felt right. His breath on my shoulder felt perfect. He kissed the back of my neck and I found that my world made sense in that moment.

‘No?’ I asked, stirring the butter. I studiously ignored the fact that his erection was pressed to my backside. Fitted neatly in the seam of my ass.

‘Not at all. When you’ve been trapped in a grand building with an amazing woman, it’s hard to ignore the little spoiled traits of a person like Natalie.’

‘It’s not her fault,’ I surprised us both by saying. ‘It’s how she was raised.’

‘True.’ He dragged his tongue up the back of my neck and a shiver began between my shoulder blades and travelled up my neck. ‘But I was also raised to be a brat and I try not to be. I’ve realised that it is not a perk of being rich, that entitled attitude – it’s a curse.’

His hands moved up my ribcage slowly. Fingers splayed, they nearly touched the undersides of my breasts. I cursed the thick sweater I wore. I wanted to feel his hands on my skin.

I pulled away and tried to put some distance between us.

‘What? Did I say something?’

‘God, no,’ I said, getting the butter fully melted. I moved it to the picnic table to let it cool so I could pour the top layer off. ‘I just need to think about what I’m doing.’

‘I’m not really hungry,’ he said, watching me. ‘For food.’

I put the plates out and the boil in its colander in the centre of the table. ‘Please let me do this,’ I said. ‘It’s my big gesture. It’s my I’m sorry and my thank you and my love all rolled into one chilly autumn picnic on the beach.’

He rubbed the toe of his boot against a swatch of weeds. ‘I’ll do anything you want,’ he said.

‘Then let me do this. Have a seat. Surely we can spare the time for a glass of …’ I rummaged through the cooler at my feet. ‘Moscato!’

‘I do like Moscato. Goes well with seafood.’

‘Well, see that,’ I laughed, pouring out two glasses – in actual glasses, might I add. ‘I could be a rich person. Though this Moscato was only ten dollars.’

‘Price doesn’t matter. It’s how good something is.’

‘Yeah?’ I felt my face turning red. I hated it but there was no stopping it.

‘Yes. And you are priceless, Clover. You know that, right? You know that I don’t care about anything other than how you make me feel. How I make you feel. How we are together.’

I tried to swallow but it was difficult. I plated our meal and put the butter on the table. ‘Come on, now. You’re going to make me cry. Nothing ruins lobster faster than crying.’

We sat and began tearing into our lunch. Overhead the hawk cried and then circled once before finding her nest. The place where she belonged.

I touched his finger with mine. ‘You make me feel like that hawk,’ I said, nodding.

Dorian looked over his shoulder and I saw him grin. ‘Voracious, predatory and territorial?’

‘Like I’ve found my place. Where I belong.’

‘I thought you said you didn’t belong in my world.’ When he turned to face me his eyes spoke volumes. Serious volumes about love and trust and how much I’d hurt him. It wasn’t intentional, it was just a fact.

‘I belong wherever you are. My world, your world –’

‘How about our world? Which is what I plan to make it.’

I nodded and then focused on my meal. The first bite of lobster tasted like nothing at all. The second was sweet and perfect. Dorian grunted and swished another hunk of meat through the clarified butter.

‘What?’ I asked. I felt shy for some reason. I had never cooked for him, I realised.

‘That boil in Nantucket?’

‘Yeah?’

‘They should have hired you.’ His smile was so big it made me smile. ‘You kicked their asses as far as good seafood boil goes. This is amazing.’

‘See, I’m valuable.’

He took my hand and squeezed it. My heart staggered in my chest. ‘Clover, you could burn water and I’d love you. You’re valuable to me because you’re valuable. Period.’

‘Oh,’ I said.

‘Oh,’ he echoed.

We ate in silence until we couldn’t stand it any more.

Chapter Thirty-Three

A stiff wind kicked up and I clamped my hands down on the food and plates as best I could. Dorian looked up at the sky and chuckled. ‘I think the gods have different plans for us today. I think a storm’s coming in.’

Storms made me think of Dorian now. Wind and rain had a bizarre effect – they made me feel somewhat cosy and safe because they triggered memories of our time in the Rotunda together.

‘Damn.’

‘We can move this into the back of my SUV. What’s the point of having an SUV that could fit a small circus if not to have an impromptu picnic in the back of it?’

Before I could even consider it, a big fat drop of rain hit me in the face and I sighed. ‘I think we’d better hurry.’

‘I can pull it up closer.’

I eyed the hawk, considered her. ‘We can load my car and then drive up to yours.’

‘I’m by the boathouses. Pretty view. I backed in. We can eat with the tail open so we have something pretty to look at.’

I nodded, starting to gather the gear.

‘Or we could leave it shut and I could just look at you. Then I’d have a beautiful view.’

I snorted, rolled my eyes. ‘Puh-leeze.’ But I felt that blush crowding my cheeks again.

He stroked my cheeks before kissing me gently. ‘This is your show but that is one hundred per cent sincere. A bit cheesy, I admit –’ he winked at me and the wink went straight to my stomach, warmed me and slid lower ‘– but still sincere.’

I started to shove everything in a picnic basket and he grabbed the cooler. ‘Let’s go. Before the sky opens up.’

The occasional fat drops had turned into steady fat drops. The day was cool and grey so the rain was icy cold. It started to come down faster and I let out a startled – and, yes, mortifying – squeal. ‘Hurry! No time!’ I yelled, rushing towards the far side of the beach where I could just make out the roof of his blue SUV.

‘We could just –’

‘Too late!’ I shouted and put on some speed. Thank God it was cold and I’d worn boots instead of trying to flail around in the fine beach sand in flip-flops.

Dorian ran behind me laughing. I thought it was the best sound I’d ever heard. Our feet slapping on the macadam once we hit the paved paths up to the parking lot. Harsh breath and a loud
whoop!
from me when I damn near dropped the basket of food. I could still feel heat baking off it and wondered if the butter had survived my insane jog or if it was all over the meal I’d prepared. Oh, well, it was butter. It would be good either way.

The rain began to pelt us harder and a slow, lazy roll of thunder sounded. ‘Why is it thundering?’ I shrieked. ‘Isn’t it too late in the year for that?’

‘Apparently not!’ Dorian set the cooler down and felt in his pockets for his keys.

The rain increased and I heard something that I realised was the sound of my teeth chattering. ‘Hurry!’

‘I’m trying!’ he yelled. But he was laughing and I was laughing too.

Finally, I heard the lock disengage and the hatch started to rise.

‘Go, go!’ Dorian was yelling.

I went. Tossing the basket in ahead of me and crawling like I was in the trenches towards the back of the rear seats. The bay area was huge. ‘What the hell is this thing? A tank?’

‘I have no idea. I grabbed the keys for this from the pegboard, so this is what I came in. My car – my usual car – is in the shop.’

I was breathing hard. And wet. Long strands of hair clung to my face and I shivered just a little. I put my hands over the basket of food and warmed them. Dorian chuckled.

‘Built-in heater.’

‘Works for me.’

‘More wine?’ he asked in his best server’s voice.

‘Sure. But I think we left our glasses back there.’

‘Ah …’ He bent over the back of the seats and his long body stretched. His button-down rose up and I saw a swath of slightly tanned, smooth skin. I wanted to press my mouth against it.

Finally, he came back with a metal travel mug. ‘Hold on.’

He popped the back door and dumped the coffee out. Then he filled the mug with ice from the cooler and swished it around before tossing that too. ‘
Voila!

‘That’ll do. We’ll have to share,’ I said.

‘I’d share anything with you, Clover.’

I swallowed around the emotion clogging my throat. I knew he meant it.

We sipped wine and I put my head on his shoulder. He let it be for a moment or two and then put his arm around me and pulled me closer. I was glad he did.

‘Sorry I planned a picnic in yet another rainstorm.’

‘I like rainstorms now,’ he said. He watched the silver rain slanting down. It was chilly because the hatch was still open but it was nice. ‘They make me think of you.’

‘Funny, I was just thinking something similar.’

‘Really?’ He turned to face me and the full power of those insanely green eyes was on me. I forgot what I was going to say and just stared at him.

‘I have to tell you something,’ I said after my brain began to function again.

He swept his thumb back and forth over my lower lip. The sensation worked its way through me, invading every cell of my body like smoke. I heard a hitching sigh and realised it was me.

‘What’s that, sweetheart?’

I stuck my tongue out and licked the tip of his thumb. ‘I’ve cracked,’ I whispered.

He took his time running his gaze up and down my body. ‘You don’t look cracked to me.’

I pushed the food out of the way and took the wine from him and put it to one side. When I got up on my knees and straddled his lap, his eyes brightened and he smiled even wider. ‘I mean I’ve cracked. I can’t do the let’s have lunch and eat my lobster –’

‘Now you’re just getting kinky.’

I snorted and shook my head at him. ‘I want you to … want me,’ I said. ‘To quote a kick-ass song.’

‘I’ve always wanted you. I never stopped. I haven’t stopped wanting you from the moment I heard you telling off our stained-glass genius.’

‘I –’

‘I love you, Clover,’ he said, cutting me off. ‘I wish you’d just accept that. Settle into it. Get comfortable. Because it isn’t going to change.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘Promise?’

He took my hand and put it on the soft flannel of his shirt, right above his heart. ‘Promise.’

‘OK, then.’ Then I moved off his lap and crawled towards the hatch.

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