His lips inched into a slow half-smile, his eyes twinkling as if he were recalling all the things we’d done the night before.
“We have one more night, Dakota,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m making it my mission to ensure you won’t want to leave here come tomorrow morning.”
My heart warmed and skipped a beat. That man was relentless. Beau Mason was like one of those Chinese fly traps, where the harder I pulled the more I just got stuck.
His hands slowly sailed behind his head as he gifted me a cocky wink. “You’re going to love the shit out of me all over again by the time you have to go home.”
I never stopped.
“You’re awfully sure of yourself there, Mr. Mason,” I teased. “I believe your breakfast is getting cold.”
Dakota’s laugh and cheery disposition that morning was nothing short of a tribute to what once was and what could possibly be if only. Watching her sitting across my table in nothing but a ratty old t-shirt of mine, all fresh-faced and good-humored was almost as if God was telling me all would be right in the world if I kept on trying.
Too many times before I’d convinced myself I didn’t deserve her. I let her go. I walked away. I set her free. Times had changed, though, and I was ready to be the man she deserved – the man who’d never break her heart again so long as he lived.
“So what are you going to do after your final show in a couple weeks?” Dakota asked, lifting her fork to her mouth.
“Celebrate,” I said without pause. She swallowed her final bite and carried her plate to the sink, rinsing it off and carefully patting it dry. If I squinted my eyes hard enough, I could almost picture her barefoot and pregnant. I rose up and followed her, pinning her against the counter. My lips found her soft neck, depositing a single kiss against her flesh. “Up for a cruise around the countryside?”
She nodded as I released her. She tiptoed upstairs, coming back a few minutes later dressed in blue jeans and a white cotton tank top that played against her sun-kissed skin and the deep hue of her coffee-colored ponytail.
Bumping around less-traveled dirt roads and graded gravel paths that surrounded our hometown, it wasn’t but ten minutes before she’d scooted over to the middle of the truck bench and slipped her arm under mine as she rested her head against the top of my shoulder.
We must’ve drove for hours that morning, sitting in silence mostly because just being together didn’t require a whole lot of words. Dakota by my side felt like a warm hug from a thick blanket on a cool night. A pair of old jeans that fit just right. That warm, flooding feeling that hits a man when he knows he’s come home again. It was a feeling all those millions of dollars sitting in my bank account could never buy, and it was a feeling I’d never been able to replicate since her.
“So tell me what I’ve missed,” I said, breaking the silence as the truck bumped and rolled down a rutted road. The question packed more of a punch to my gut than I’d anticipated the second I said it aloud. “What’s life been like for you the last ten years?”
She sat up, clearing her throat and tugging down on her top. “It’s been mostly good.”
“Mostly?”
“Considering where I started and how I got here, I think I’ve come out a little bit on top.”
“I’d say.”
“I graduated from Kentucky and went straight to the city. Met my ex-husband when I auditioned for a local news show there. Convinced Addison to move and got her lined up with a job. All I’ve done since is work.”
“But are you happy?”
Dakota nodded. “As happy as could be expected. I’d conquer one obstacle and suddenly it wouldn’t feel good enough, so I’d keep reaching higher and higher, searching for that next big thing that might define me.”
“It never feels the way you expect it to.”
“Nope.” Dakota slid her right hand down her thigh. “I’m probably going to get promoted after this interview.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”
“I am thrilled,” she said, though unconvincingly. “I really am. This could be huge for me. This is a result of everything I’ve ever worked for up until now. The only thing bigger than this promotion would be landing my own primetime news show.”
“And I have no doubt in my mind that if Coco Bissett sets her mind to it, she’s going to achieve it,” I said. “But the important question is, what does Dakota Andrews want?”
I expected her mood to shift like the wind on a stormy day. I expected her to jerk away or turn all sullen on me. Instead she pulled in a deep breath and turned my way.