Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale) (10 page)

He nodded, looking down at the grass, his face miserable.

“Hey,” she said, taking a step toward him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, clenching his jaw as he looked at her. After staring at her for a second, he stalked over to the grill. “How do you like your steak?”

“Umm . . . I don’t . . . however you like yours.”

He grunted, taking a covered plate from the table and keeping his back to her as he pulled off the foil and placed two steaks on the grill.

A lump rose up in her throat as she watched him. He wouldn’t look at her or talk to her or even acknowledge that she was standing there behind him, and it hurt, because tonight was supposed to be special. She looked up at the twinkle lights, feeling confused. He’d obviously put effort into making this evening special. Why was he acting like this now?

The answer came swiftly.

Because of the call. Because of
her
, whoever she was. Clearly he wanted to be with her, not Verity. And clearly being with Verity wasn’t so appealing to him anymore. She felt foolish. She felt like an inconvenience. She felt unwanted, and it made hot tears burn her eyes.

“We don’t have to do this,” she said softly to his back, “if there’s somewhere else you need to be.”

“Food’s already cooking. We may as well eat it.” He looked at her over his shoulder, then turned back to the grill. “I can’t give you a ride to work in the morning. You’ll have to take the bus.”

Why this felt like a slap, she wasn’t certain, but it did. It stung. And it took her a long moment to remind herself that he didn’t owe her anything. He’d helped her get a job and given her a place to live. He’d never signed up to be their daily chauffeur.

“Okay.”

“Don’t bother making me breakfast.”

“I won’t,” she said, but those tears were very close to falling now, and she couldn’t bear to embarrass herself by crying in front of him. “You know? I think, um, maybe we should do this another time. I mean, I feel like something’s going on with you, and maybe . . .”

Her voice trailed off. She stood there like an idiot, talking to his back, waiting for him to answer, but he didn’t. He didn’t do or say anything at all. He certainly didn’t try to stop her from going back in the house.

She gulped over the lump in her throat and walked around the table, heading for the stairs that led to the kitchen. There was someone else in his life, obviously. Someone who was first in his heart, which meant that she’d be a fling at best, and frankly she already knew she couldn’t handle a fling with Colton. As soon as possible, she’d find somewhere else for her and Ryan to live.

She was almost on the landing when she felt his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Gasping in surprise at the sudden, unexpected contact, she backed down one step to be closer to him, and his forehead dropped gently to rest on the back of her head, his breath hot on the back of her neck. He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding into her back as his arms held her tightly.

“Don’t go,” he muttered, his voice strangled and grave, pleading and sorry, frustrated and weary beyond his twentysomething years. “Please, Verity . . . don’t go.”

He was acting like an asshole and he knew it, but Aunt Jane’s words—
If she doesn’t have
you,
Colton, she has no one
—tormented and shamed him.

Tonight Melody had had no one. He’d been so distracted getting ready for his date with Verity, he’d failed his cousin—his flesh and blood, whom he’d promised to look after. And in startling, striking clarity he understood what Aunt Jane had meant when she asked him to be careful about whom he loved. It wasn’t just his temper that could get him into trouble and sidetrack him from Melody’s best interests. Loving someone else had the potential to imperil Melody’s prominence in his life. Perhaps that had been Aunt Jane’s primary concern all along—that whomever Colton eventually chose to love would own his heart to such an extent that there wouldn’t be any room left for Mel.

Verity didn’t fight him when he reached for her. She didn’t try to break free, and his heart swelled with hope. This girl. This woman in his arms. How badly he wanted—
needed
—her to stick around.

And while he knew, rationally, that thoughts of love were premature, his life wasn’t typical—it was complicated by his family commitments. He basically had to choose between two paths when it came to relationships: a fling, with zero commitment and no emotional investment, or opening the tightly locked door that would showcase his baggage in all its enormity. Because having a loving relationship would be impossible unless he was still able to honor his promises. And he couldn’t honor them if they stayed hidden.

Sandy had been a fling, nothing more, so he’d never uttered a word about Mel to her. He had a good idea of how she’d react, and it would have made him fucking furious. Sure, he’d enjoyed Sandy’s company, and she was an enthusiastic fuck. He’d even missed her when she left, but it didn’t
hurt
when she left. It didn’t hurt, because they’d kept things spicy and light. He’d never come close to loving her. In fact, he’d hung out with Sandy for months, and his feelings for her hadn’t come close to the feelings he had for Verity after a handful of days.

No matter how much easier it would have been for him to stay emotionless about Verity, he hadn’t been able to rein in his heart from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was different. Special. And it made the entire situation about a thousand times more complicated.

This woman in his arms, with her sunny smiles and patient heart, had brought so much unexpected warmth into his lonesome life. He couldn’t let her walk away from what they were starting tonight, even if it meant walking through that door and negotiating the mess of baggage and responsibility on the other side. He couldn’t let her go back upstairs to her room and close the door on the chance of more between them. What she hadn’t yet realized was that yes, he’d helped get her a job and given her and her brother a place to stay, but he was definitely getting more out of the arrangement than she was. He felt alive for the first time in years. He felt needed in a way that was electric, not familial. He felt . . . good. So he tightened his arms and held on to her, hoping—blindly, desperately, even against his better judgment—that she wouldn’t leave.

Her body, rigid at first, relaxed against his little by little, and relief flooded his heart. He pressed his lips to her hair, kissing the silken strands, then lifting his head so that she could lean against him, the back of her head on his shoulder, her lungs filling and emptying rapidly under his hands, which lay flat on her abdomen, his fingers locked together just beneath her breasts.

“Don’t go,” he said again, close to her ear, daring to suck the tempting lobe between his lips. She gasped with pleasure, and he felt her shiver when he released it. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“For being a jerk,” he said, slowly running his lips from behind her ear, down the side of her throat, to the tiny valley where her neck and collarbone met. There he kissed her softly, and she moaned—a low, tiny sound of pleasure catching a ride on a sigh. His blood rushed furiously to his cock, making him light-headed as he kissed that little hollow again.

“Have dinner with me,” he murmured, letting his lips slip over her warm skin to her bare shoulder. “Please.”

She took a deep breath and straightened, raising her head and turning in his arms. Drunk by the nearness of her, by the soft pressure of her breasts brushing against his chest, he didn’t notice her eyes at first. He was too focused on her mouth—on the lips he wanted to devour, to lick and taste and explore until she slid her tongue against his and begged for his hands on her body, and then he’d—

“Colton.”

Something in her voice sliced through his lust, and he slid his heavy gaze from her lips to her eyes, finding them troubled.

Sometimes “I’m sorry” isn’t enough
, he thought and flinched, leaning away from her and dropping her eyes. “I’ve ruined tonight.”

“No! No.” Her hands landed gently on his face, tenderly cradling his jaw. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

He twisted his neck to press his lips to her palm, hoping her breath would hitch and loving it when it did. He was learning what she liked, and every tiny lesson was precious to him. All he wanted in the whole world was to have more days to learn about her, to know her, to have the honor of looking after her for a little while longer.

“Then . . .?” He looked up at her, uncertain of what would happen next.

“It’s me. I . . . I haven’t known you for very long, but . . .” She hesitated before speaking again. “But I don’t think I can do
casual
with you.” Her lips tilted up in a sad smile as she made this confession. “I wish I could.”

“Do you think
I’m
looking for casual?” he asked, frowning as he searched her eyes.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, looking up into his face with heartbreaking earnestness. “I overheard some of your conversation, so I know I’m . . . I’m not the only woman in your life right now. And . . .” She gulped, then continued on, like she’d lose her nerve if she stopped talking. “I’m just . . . I’m not good at sharing, I guess.” She shrugged, her blue eyes sad but clear as she stared up at him. “We’ve known each other such a short time. My feelings are ridiculous. I know that. But I can’t help it. I
like
you. I already
like
you. If I liked you less, maybe I could have a fling with you, but I just don’t think—”

“I like you too,” he blurted out, his heart bursting at the sweetness of her words and ignoring the voice of caution in his head that reminded him he wasn’t supposed to fall for her. “The woman I was talking about on the phone? I’m not romantically involved with her. She’s . . . family.”

“Oh!” said Verity, blinking at him in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t know . . .”

Colton nodded. “She has seizures from time to time. Had a bad one tonight.”

“Oh my God!” she said, the pressure of her fingers increasing slightly with her worry. “I’m so sorry.”

“I missed the calls from her, um, her caregiver because I was getting ready for dinner, and—”

“And you felt bad about that.”

He nodded. “She doesn’t have anyone else.”

Her shoulders slumped with compassion. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s sedated now and sleeping soundly, but I need to go check on her first thing in the morning.”

“Maybe you should go now.”

He shook his head. “No. She’s asleep now. I’d be going for me—for my guilt—not for her.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” she said gently.

“You wouldn’t feel guilty? If Ryan was alone and in pain and you weren’t there?”

She flinched, looking down. “I would.”

“Then you understand.”

“Yes . . . but there’s nothing you can do now. She’s being cared for. She’s asleep. You’ll go in the morning. You’ll figure out a way to make it okay.”

Her words were a sweet balm to his troubled heart, and he was grateful for them. He cocked his head to the side. “So you’re not good at sharing, huh?”

Her eyes flared as a sudden flush of bright red stained her cheeks. She whimpered softly, letting her hands slide from his face and dropping his eyes. He still held her around the waist, but she no longer leaned against him. Forlornly she stared down at the place where her breasts brushed his chest.

“Verity?”

“You must think I’m . . . Oh God, I told you I
liked
you . . . ” She huffed softly, raising her eyes to his throat as the color in her cheeks deepened. “I . . . I practically threw myself at you . . . saying I can’t be casual or have a fling . . . like I’m looking for some big commitment.” She groaned, shaking her head. “This is only our first date! Oh God, you must think I’m desperate and needy and—”

He tightened his arms around her waist. “Look at me, Verity Gwynn.” He could tell how much courage it took for her to meet his eyes, and when she did, her entire face was the color of ripe strawberries. “You
didn’t
throw yourself at me. You
didn’t
ask for a commitment. You said you didn’t want a fling, and you know what? Neither do I. You said you like me, and the truth is that I like you too.” His lips wobbled, and he let them tilt up into a small grin because he knew how much she needed one, and he couldn’t help it anyway. Verity Gwynn embarrassed was off-the-charts appealing. “Far as I can tell, baby? We don’t have a problem.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “‘Baby’?”

He shrugged. “You mind?”

“No,” she whispered. She searched his face for a moment before letting herself grin back, the sight of those sweet dimples making his heart soar. “But I think you’re taking it easy on me.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead and lingering there for a moment before drawing away, his own happy grin still solidly in place because she wasn’t leaving and she liked him and she wasn’t looking for a fling. “So what? Go ahead and let me.”

***

“I haven’t had steak in ages,” she said, smiling at him across the table as she cut another mouthwatering piece of perfectly grilled steak and savored it, closing her eyes and humming as she chewed. “Mmmmm.”

“I’m never making you steak again, woman,” he said darkly.

Her eyes popped open, and she giggled. “Why not?”

“Because you’re killing me with those little noises.”

Her cheeks warmed as if on command, and she reached for her wineglass, taking a sip as she watched him over the rim.

It had surprised her before, when they were on the steps, that he hadn’t kissed her. She’d expected him to. She’d all but given him permission. But after a fairly chaste kiss on the forehead, he’d taken her hand and led her to the table, pouring them each a glass of wine and asking her how she liked working at
TLOC
as he flipped the steaks on the grill.

They’d talked about work for a little while, and, to her relief, he voluntarily answered her question from earlier in the day.

“This afternoon you asked if I’d ever dated anyone at work.”

“I was just wondering,” she said, feeling sheepish.

“I
did
date someone. But it wasn’t serious, and it didn’t last long.”

“Is she still there?” Verity asked him, crossing her fingers under the table.

He shook his head. “Nope. She took another job in Vegas a while back.”

And Lord, but she’d smiled at him after that. He was free and she was free. And they liked each other. Things this good didn’t generally happen to Verity Gwynn. And suddenly, here, now, something good was
happening
.

“No more little noises,” she promised, placing her glass back on the table.

“I didn’t say ‘no more.’ I said they’re killing me.”

“Well, I don’t want you to die,” she said, butterflies in her belly as she nibbled on an ear of corn.

He chuckled softly. “What
do
you want?”

To know you. To really know you, and for you to be as good and sweet and right for me as I hope you are.

“To feel safe again,” she said instead.

“Do you feel safe here?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Then let’s consider that wish granted because nothing scary’s getting through me. What else?”

She’d taken her shoes off, and he’d kicked off his flip-flops while he was at the grill. Now she sought his feet under the table because his words made her heart gallop and sigh, and she wanted to touch him. She ran one toe over the bridge of his foot, watching him sit up a little straighter, hot awareness darkening his eyes.

“What else?” he asked again, his voice gravelly.

“For Ryan to fit in somewhere. You know, to have a job and be useful and—I don’t know—maybe even have a friend. Someone like him.”

Colton nodded slowly, stretching out his legs under the table until his feet were under her bench. “Like him?”

She lifted her feet and rested them on his legs. “Slow. Sweet.”

“Developmentally disabled.”

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “This might sound mean, but . . . I don’t want to be
everything
to him. I want him to have his own life, you know? Outside of me. I’ll always look out for him, but . . .”