Because I Can Page 8

  She met “him” in an elevator, the way I first met Dash. And like her, Allison, I am still certain, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. There’s a wave of awareness that washes over me and I look up, and as if I’ve willed him to my side, Dash is standing in the doorway. God, he’s good-looking. Tall, gorgeous, broad, talented, and human in ways too few people allow themselves to be. I shut the notebook, set it aside, and with no hesitation at all, I’m in front of Dash, wrapping my arms around him.

  “Hi,” I say softly.

  He doesn’t touch me.

  He’s stiff, unyielding, displeased, I decide, and for the first time ever with Dash, I have second thoughts about my boldness. I start to pull away.

  He catches me to him. “What’s going on, Allie?”

  I know then that he’s read into me being here, seen something in my actions that doesn’t exist. “I don’t want to be here, Dash. I wanted to just get this over with so I could be done with this place.”

  “You sure about that?”

  There is a hint of what I can only dare call insecurity behind that question, that blows me away. How can Dash Black be insecure? And yet, he is. He so is and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the fight last night, or it’s something Tyler said to him. Maybe it’s just me in this house, but the why really doesn’t matter. What he feels, does. “That part where I admitted to falling way too hard for you, you do remember that, right?”

  His fingers tangle in my hair and he drags my mouth to his. “I thought you were running, Allie.”

  “Because I’m good at it?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “But you don’t want me to?”

  “No. No, I do not want you to run. I also don’t want you here without me.”

  His mouth crashes down on mine, the taste of him pure possession. His hands are all over my body. Mine are all over his. Before I can even process what’s happening, I’m naked and he is not. I’m pressed to the door, my leg at his hip, his thick erection driving inside me.

  It’s wild and hot, and there is nothing but the hunger between us, the pump of his body, the arch of mine. On some level, it feels as if Dash is claiming me right here in Tyler’s house, for a reason, as if he feels he’ll know. It’s a thought that could take me no place good, but I can’t go there, not now when Dash is driving into me, over and over. Not when his eyes are on my breasts, devouring my naked body. The collision of our bodies is fast, intense, wildfire sparked by our emotions, I don’t even fully understand. When it’s over, Dash eases my leg down, strokes my hair back, and tilts my mouth to his. “I don’t want you to come here again without me.”

  I notice the way he phrases this. He tells me what he wants, but he doesn’t demand I comply. I’m not sure why this house is such a trigger for him, but it doesn’t matter. I give him what he wants because it’s also what I want. “I don’t want to come here at all. And I won’t come without you.”

  He scoops me up, carries me to the bathroom, setting me down in front of the sink. “I’ll get your clothes.” He disappears and returns quickly, setting my clothes on the counter.

  Dash’s cellphone rings. “Jesus,” he murmurs, glancing at his phone. “It’s Bella. Again. I’m telling her this is the quota for twenty-four hours.” He turns away and answers the call.

  There’s a sense of unease in me again, which has nothing at all to do with him taking a call from his sister, but is most likely a component of the dread I feel at the idea of telling him I went hunting for Allison today. I quickly dress, deciding that clothing makes all things less awkward. I flatten my hair presently standing on end and exit to the bedroom to find Dash sitting on the bed, holding the journal.

  He lifts it in the air. “What is this, Allie?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Dash holds onto the journal, her journal, Allison’s journal, or so I believe, and guilt stabs at me, at my invasion of her privacy I can do nothing but justify with good intentions. “I found it while I was looking for my wallet. It fell behind the nightstand.” I move toward him, his unreadable, heavy gaze following me until I sit down next to him. “I went to the animal shelter where she volunteers today.”

  I don’t have to explain who I mean. We both know I’m talking about Allison. “How do you even know where she volunteers, Allie?” he challenges.

  “Instagram.”

  “Of course,” he says dryly. “Instagram.”

  “If we as human beings believe another human being is in trouble, it’s an obligation to act. It’s basic decency. While I was there, a man came looking for her. He gave me the creeps, Dash. He wouldn’t give me his name.”

  “But you gave him yours?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Before I know his intent, he’s on his feet, pulling me with him. “Damn it, Allie, why are you putting yourself in the line of fire? Why?”

  My defenses prickle, while that damn journal is right there, between us, in more ways than one. “Don’t raise your voice at me, Dash.”

  He sets the journal on the nightstand, as if he too feels its presence a little too much. “Don’t be stupid and I won’t.”

  My defenses don’t prickle this time. They blow up in pure white-hot anger. I try to go around him. He catches my arm and drags me to him. “Now you’re running?”

  “Stop using that confession about running against me. I don’t like it. And there’s a difference between running and choosing to walk away, Dash.”

  His fingers curl on my elbow. “Is that what you’re doing? Walking away?”

  Emotions pound at me. “From the moment, not from you, but damn it, Dash.”

  “Now who’s cursing at who?”

  “You’re frustrating me.”

  “The feeling is mutual, cupcake. Real damn mutual.”

  My hand is flat on his chest now, but I don’t push him away, not yet. “You said you trust me. You say I don’t trust you. I think you’ve got this backward. Don’t you get how hard it is for me to trust anyone, Dash? And yet, I trust you enough to not even ask questions about last night.”

  “No, I don’t know how hard it is for you to trust, Allie. I don’t know anything about your past. You realize that, right?”

  “And I know yours? I know what I saw last night, but we both know the answers you gave me were far from everything. And yet, I’m here. And I trust you.”

  “I trust you, Allie, or I wouldn’t have invited you to share my home. This isn’t about trust. This is about your safety.”

  “Really? Because it feels like you’re trying to control me. And fucking me until January when I go back to New York does not make you the boss of my life.”

  I expect him to do just what Brandon did—smash me down, put me in my place, make sure I know who is king and who is the peasant.

  Anger blisters his stare. “Is that what we’re doing?” His voice is low, almost brittle. “Fucking until January? Really, Allie? Because if all you want is to be fucked, I don’t have to want you in my home or my bed to do that and do it well. If this is where you want to be, then be here.”

  The words stab me right in the heart and then to my shock, he releases me and scrubs his jaw. “Fuck,” he murmurs, and when I think he’ll say more, he turns and heads for the door.

  The room sways with the impact of my past and present, and I realize I’ve reacted to Dash as if he were Brandon as if that past was the present. I rush after him and just as he would exit the bedroom, I dart in front of him and press my hands to the hard wall of his chest.

  He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t touch me. He just stares at me, and his eyes are now hollow, the way they were last night when I’d found him at that fight event. The only hope he offers me is the fast, heavy beat of his heart beneath my palm, which tells me he is far from as checked out as his actions and words suggest.

  Everything inside me screams for me to protect myself, but for the first time in my life, I’m not sure protecting myself means running. “I’m sorry,” I say
. “I reacted to you like you were a part of my past, Dash. Not my future. And I’m pretty sure that’s because I’m so damn afraid of you being my past.”

  Still, he doesn’t react, at least not immediately. He just keeps staring at me, watching me, seeming to reach inside me and weigh the truth of my words. And just when I think he will reject me, his hand slides under my hair, wraps my neck, and he is dragging me to him. “Protecting you is necessary,” he says. “You need to know that’s a part of me. You need to know that won’t change, Allie, nor will I apologize for it. Not now or ever.”

  To some this might seem like a simple play on words that breaks down to him needing, even demanding, control over me and us. But the thing is, I’ve known my share of power-hungry, controlling men. That’s not who Dash is, at least not with me. And nothing, and I mean nothing, with Dash is simple, and most certainly the torment beneath his raspy confession professes this as truth. There are layers to this man, so many layers, and nothing is as it seems on the surface. Dash is a haunted man, tormented by a past that wasn’t any kinder to him than was mine. A past that includes losing people he loved.

  I tilt my chin back and find his stare, where that torment lives oh so clearly. He has been hurt and everything he does is a product of that pain. He doesn’t just need to protect me, he needs more in return, perhaps more than I should be willing to give, but that doesn’t stop me from saying, “As long as you know that I’m going to protect you, too, Dash.”

  His lips lower near mine, a hot breath from a touch as he says. “You can try, Allie. Take me away, baby. If you can.”

  His words are all challenge and sexual heat. My nipples pucker and my sex clenches in a most unexpected way, considering the punch of my anger only moments before. But then, there is so much about me with this man, and him with me, that I do not understand. But I want to. God, how I want to, but as sure as Dash pulls me closer, there is a part of him I don’t know. A part of him that pushes me away that I may never know. But then, there is that part of me, as well. A part of me that I’m ashamed of. A part of me I don’t show him because I never want him to know who I once was, who deep down, I still am.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It’s time to leave this house, but not without my wallet.

  “Didn’t you have it last night?” Dash asks.

  “It’s big. I don’t always carry it. I just stick my license and my credit card in the card file at the side of my smaller purse.”

  “And why do you think it’s here?”

  “I remember ordering my mother some of the coffee beans she loves, and I don’t remember ever putting my wallet back in my purse.” I walk to the opposite side of the mattress before pulling back the blanket, with me and Dash searching the perimeter with no luck.

  “You don’t think it got stolen with the break-in, right?” I ask. “Maybe it was kids and they grabbed whatever they could find and ran.”

  “The security system was turned off. I don’t think it was kids. And if the wallet was in your nightstand, it seems unlikely that’s the only thing someone took.”

  We both just stare at each other and let that set in. Because the question remains: who was here, and what did they want? “Right,” I say, trying to shake that off and restarting my search.

  Eventually, we end up in the kitchen, the journal inside my purse that is now on my shoulder. “I give up,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “It’s just gone.”

  “Maybe it’s at the apartment,” he suggests. “And you just think you left it behind.”

  “Maybe,” I concur, but even as I do, I’m not optimistic. “I really hope so. If not, I have to call my bank. At least I have my license.” I lean on the island and Dash leans on the counter across from me in front of the sink. “I’d say I’d follow you to the apartment, but I just realized I still don’t have a car. Did you get any word on the repairs on my car?”

  “The mechanic called me when I was with Tyler. It’s not good news. The engine’s a goner.”

  “Wonderful,” I say dryly. “Now I have no car.”

  “We’ll share until you decide if you’re staying or going.”

  The air ticks between us, our eyes meeting, that familiar punch between us. “You’re not the long-term guy, Dash. Remember?”

  “I remember everything I was before you, Allie.”

  His cellphone rings and he scoops it from his pocket, glancing at me as he says, “My sister, and since she just made me talk her off a ledge over this music deal she’s working on, I have to take it. Again.” He answers on speaker. “Bella,” he greets. “Allie is here with me.”

  “She better be,” she chides. “If you lost her that fast, I’d have to tell you what a loser you are. Which of course, you are not a loser. Unless you lose her.” She changes the topic, clearly bursting with her need to announce, “They’re signing my client! I’m thrilled for him. He’s doing a celebration set at Aldean’s place tonight. You two want to come back and cheer him on?”

  “Not if you want me to finish this book,” Dash says, “but congratulations, little sis. You rock this country town.”

  “Yes, you do,” I chime in. “Congratulations to you and him. How exciting and life-changing for him.”

  “It’s an open door,” she says. “You never know if they’re going to swim in a fishbowl and end up a floater or end up owning the ocean. But that’s not the only reason why I’m calling, big brother. We have another studio calling you through me right now. They, too, want to do a spinoff TV show based on the books and movies. They want you there next week.”

  I wait for Dash to react, to show excitement, but instead, he grimaces. “My eye is the size of Texas, Bella,” he says. “You know that.”

  “This is where you show excitement,” Bella rebuttals. “Then we talk through how to handle the eye.”

  “Exactly!” I agree wholeheartedly. “Dash, this is amazing! This is exciting.”

  A muscle in his jaw tics. “She knows how I feel about Hollywood,” he grumbles, but when my eyes go wide, he quickly adds, “but thank you, Bella. The love-hate thing I’ve got going on is all love for you and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she confirms. “Tell the truth. You’re a hero. Someone broke into your girlfriend’s house and you got in a fight protecting her.”

  His rejection is instant. “We’re not bringing more attention to Allie when we don’t even know who broke into the house or why.”

  “I don’t care, Dash,” I quickly interject. “If it protects you—”

  “No, Allie,” he bites out. “No.”

  “Fine then,” Bella says. “You’re a former FBI agent, Dash, who still trains with your old buddies. One of them got you with an elbow, but don’t you worry, you got them with a knee. There. Problem solved. I’ll book it late in the week so you have time to at least get rid of the swelling and make your travel plans.” She doesn’t give him time to reply before she shifts gears to me. “Allie, did you look at Allison’s Instagram?”

  “I did,” I confirm. “And it’s really weird that she stopped posting.”

  “I have to agree,” she replies. “One of us needs to talk to Tyler about where she is.” Her phone beeps. “Damn. I have to go. Call you Monday with the meeting details, Dash. Bye, Allie.” With that, she hangs up.

  My brows lift. “What about Tyler, Dash?”

  “He doesn’t know where she is.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “He told me.”

  “He told you,” I repeat. “Do you even trust Tyler, Dash?”

  “Tyler and I are better friends than enemies when it comes to secrets.”

  I blink. “I feel like you’re talking in code.”

  “Tyler and I were never what I call true friends. He knew things about me and because I was at the wrong place at the right time, I ended up knowing things about him, too. Bottom line, I could ruin him. He could ruin me. As I said, better friends than enemies when it comes to secrets. He has no reason to lie t
o me. He wasn’t lying about Allison. He doesn’t know where she is.”

  “Did she talk to him before she left? Did she formally resign?”

  “She did. And this all comes back to him getting too personal with an employee. They were together and then they weren’t. She couldn’t handle it. She needed a break. It was sudden and abrupt, but it was her free will. He honestly thought she left to allow that work-personal life separation, but then she ghosted him.”

  “And everyone else. Is he worried?”

  “He says this fits her personality. It’s not her first time to up and leave a place and do so without looking back.”

  It all makes sense. It should be comforting, but it’s not. “What about the man that came to the shelter today?”

  “Sounds to me like she blew him off and he doesn’t like it.”

  He’s right. Of course, he’s right. He pushes off the counter and steps in front of me, his hands settling on my hips. “Jack has limited resources. I have a friend who left the FBI. He does private hire work. I’ll call him and have him discreetly locate her and give you peace of mind.”

  “Oh God, yes. Please, Dash. Then I can stop worrying about her.”

  “Will you? If I do this, will you promise me to stop looking for her yourself?”

  “Because you’re worried she’s in trouble and I’ll get in that same trouble?”

  “Because someone broke into your house, which was also her house. And that makes me uneasy. And because I’m asking you to let the professional do his job. He’s good, Allie. I am not if you get hurt. Do you understand?”