P.I.T.A. (L.A. Liaisons #3)(34)

A few minutes later, the limo pulled in under a ceiling of star lights and cherubs and up to a drive-thru. The driver rolled down the back window, but I wanted the sunroof open instead. Before I could stand up, Dawson removed his jacket and put it on me.

"I suppose you can't have a blue bride," I joked, as we got to our feet and took our positions.





As Dave got out of the car to walk around to the side for a better view, I lost what it was we were saying to the woman standing at the window. I remembered her. She was Justice Sally Sue Titball, the woman with the purple hair and pink lipstick that had been one of the only flashes of memory I'd had from that night.

After the necessary paperwork and payment, we'd repeated the quick, standard vows with big grins on our faces, laughing our way through it, as though we couldn't believe we were actually doing it. The ceremony, if you could call it that, was over so fast, five minutes at the most. But when she'd said, "You may kiss the bride," it was like the world had gone into slow motion: Dawson cupped my face gently and gave me a beautiful smile that I returned. And then, ever so slowly, his lips touched mine, softly at first, and though I hadn't seen what had gone down before we'd gotten in the limo, I knew that somehow that had been our first kiss. Then the driver pulled away from the window, heading back out to the street.





"Hey, wait," Dave said, the camera shaking as he ran after the departing limo. "Wait up! You forgot me." Then he slowed to a stop, his breathing heavy as he said, "Eh, that's okay. I can catch a cab." 





THAT MADE ME giggle, as I watched him zoom in again on the limo in the distance, where Dawson and I were still entwined, our lips never having left each other. He kept the camera on us until we drove out of view, and then the screen blurred and the beginning notes of a-ha's "Take on Me" began.

Goosebumps broke out all over my body as the song Dawson and I had always played to cheer each other up came on, followed by a picture of us with our arms around each other on the first day we met.

Oh my God … what is this? I thought, as the image moved into a video clip of us making faces at the camera as we sat at the dining table at Charles and Gail's house making cookies, shoving the dough in each other's faces. Then there we were, on the Slip 'N Slide at his ninth birthday party. Apparently we'd decided it would be a good idea to hold hands as we ran and then dove down the long slide, squealing the whole way down. And at the end of it, Dawson jumped up and helped me to my feet before we raced back to the start to do it again. Cut to our first day of junior high, and the excited expressions on our faces immediately changed to the picture of the first day of school the following year, where we looked like we'd rather do anything else. Then Christmas, maybe that same year, as I opened a gift Dawson had made in his woodworking class. I held up the carved angel and marveled over what a good job he'd done as Dawson proudly beamed next to me, a faint blush on his cheeks. On and on it went, and with every image that came up, it became clear that what Dawson and I had shared went beyond a simple friendship.

How had I never noticed the way he looked at me before? Or maybe it was only the way he'd looked at me when he'd known I wasn't watching? It was like this video had been put together to show me just how much he'd … adored me? But it wasn't just him-the way my gazes turned into something more than friendly as we finished our high school years and entered college wasn't anything you could deny.

So Dawson had seen it. Had he known this whole time?

The next recordings that came up surprised the hell out of me-they were obviously videos taken on his camera of me dancing at the clubs we frequented when we hadn't been on good terms. I was on stage, lost in the music and moving my hips in a way that made me wonder if he'd used these videos for an altogether different purpose.

So he'd been watching me even then? Even when he'd been Dirty Dick and I'd been Pita?

Then the song faded and another, "Happy Together" by The Turtles, began. And this time, photos I never knew he'd taken filled the screen.

The first, a montage of selfies in the car after we'd made our marriage official-since we'd driven off without our cameraman. The smiles on our faces were genuine, our eyes shining brightly with excitement at what we'd just done. And then later that morning he'd snuck a picture of us, me sprawled out on his chest as he kissed the top of my head.

The shots after that he'd apparently taken when I wasn't looking: me, curled up in my recliner writing in my diary, a selfie he'd taken when I had my back turned the night I cooked that dreadful fish, a picture of me chatting with his mom as we untangled Christmas lights.

All these secret, hidden moments that I'd never known he'd ever paid attention to were projected onto the fifty-inch screen in front of me, and my eyes misted. These were the additions Dave had mentioned on the card. The ones Dawson had sent him to add. Which meant this video wasn't just for the two of us-it was a gift. For me.

But more than that, the video was a message, a plea.



       
         
       
        

Take on me.

We could be happy together …





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Everything and Always





AS THE FINAL image popped up, one of us in college, me sitting in Dawson's lap, his arms around my waist as I kissed his cheek, my hand went to my chest and I struggled to breathe. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Everything this video was showing me, if you hadn't known us, showed a man in love. From the way he looked at me to the words he said, it was a side of Dawson that I never would've believed from hearsay. And yet there it was, staring me in the face. The man I'd pushed away at almost every turn.

"You weren't supposed to see that yet." Dawson's voice from behind me made me jump, and I brushed the tears from my eyes before I turned around.

There was no telling how long he'd been standing in the doorway, watching me stare in shock at the video.

"Dawson … " I said, but nothing else would come out. What could I possibly say after all that I'd just seen?

When he pushed off the wall and stepped into the room, I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was in all black today, boots, jeans, buttoned-down shirt, and his hair was down, one side tucked behind his ear. God, but the man was unbelievably attractive. Sexy. Confident. But it was the intent in his gaze that had me unable to move from the couch. I was frozen, at the mercy of the determination I saw there.

"I've let you push me away for far too long, Paige," he said, stalking toward me. "I've given you your space. Let you run wild and pretend you didn't care about me. About us. But that ends today." As he rounded the couch, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood, I could only look up at him. And when he stopped in front of me, he held out his hand for mine, and then pulled me up against him.

"Paige," he said, cupping my face, "I know you're strong. I know you don't need to rely on anyone. I know you crave your independence, and not being allowed your freedom would suffocate you. I don't just know and accept that-it's what I love about you. I don't want to change who you are."

Apparently the tears weren't done falling yet, because Dawson blurred in my vision again before warm streaks ran down my face, and his thumbs gently brushed them away.

"We've made our mistakes, but getting married wasn't one of them. It wasn't the way I'd planned for this to go, but it's the way things shook out, and for that I'm fucking glad. Because I couldn't have gotten your stubborn ass to see what's in front of you any other way."

I choked out a laugh as he bit back a smile. 

"You know I'm right," he said. "It's okay, you can say it. 'Dawson, you're absolutely right. I can't fucking live without you.'"

Laughing harder, I put my hands on his wrists. When the laughter faded, I said, "You're right. I really can't fucking live without you. And I want to hate that … but I can't."

Dawson closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he hadn't been expecting those words to come out of my mouth. When his eyes opened, there was a fire blazing behind them.

"Now, do you know what I really want?" he asked.

My lips tipped up. "No, what do you really want?"

"I want to be the goddamn reason you can't wait to wake up in the morning. I want you to be unable to sleep if I'm not there with you at night. And I want to be the only fucking man that you let come near you when you're moving those hips like you're having sex on the dance floor."

I stuttered out a laugh. "That's not asking for much."

"With you, I want everything."

My stomach flipped, a fire burned in my veins, and this time, I was the one who made the first move. I grabbed a hold of the back of his neck and crushed my lips to his, telling him with no uncertainty that I wanted all of that and more.

There was nothing soft in this kiss; it was merely an outlet for the words left unsaid that came bursting out in a hot explosion of tongues tangling and lips claiming. It left me lightheaded and breathless, and when we pulled away, it was a long moment before we could speak.

"Does that mean you agree to my terms?" Dawson said.

I shook my head, but couldn't hold back the grin on my face. "When did you get so damn bossy?"