Raising the Stakes
Page 99
Gray rolled over, taking her with him, resting his weight on his elbows as he looked down into her pale face.
“How long did you stay with him?”
“Almost five years. Then I—I left.”
“Did you ever love him? I mean, when you married him, you must have thought—”
“I don’t know what I thought.” She swallowed dryly. “I was young. My mama was—she had problems of her own. And when Harman began to pay attention to me…”
“Harman?” Jesus, the lies were catching in his throat. “Is that his name?”
She nodded. “He seemed nice. He was older but at first he treated me sort of like a father, and I figured that was okay. Actually it was fine. I’d never had a father around and, well, it’s hard to explain but I always used to think how nice it would be if I did.” She cleared her throat. “I know how silly that seems, but—”
“It doesn’t seem silly at all.” Gray took a strand of her hair between his fingers. It felt cool and silky as it curled around his finger. “I used to think the same way when I was a kid.”
Dawn’s brows lifted. “You didn’t have a father, either?”
“Well, I did, yeah. I still do, but he wasn’t the father I wanted him to be, I guess.”
“Then you know what it’s like. To want someone to care about you, I mean.” A few seconds passed. “Harman said he loved me. He ask
ed me to marry him. I said I thought we should wait a while, until I was a little older and we knew each other better, but he said there wasn’t any point in waiting and I knew—I knew my mama wanted me gone. We just had this trailer and—and there wasn’t very much room and—and—” She licked her lips. “I figured I’d learn to care for him. I mean, before we got married, he was nice to me. He never—he never…”
Gray kissed her, felt her mouth tremble beneath his. God, how he wanted to tell her that he knew all about Harman, but he’d let things go too far. Or maybe not. Yes, there were endless explanations to make and yes, she’d be upset, but he could handle that. He could tell her that he’d come looking for a faceless woman and found, instead, someone who had changed his life, that in ways he couldn’t begin to explain or comprehend, he knew that this—the two of them, together—was right, and that all of what had happened before they met was just a prelude to the future that stretched ahead.
“Dawn.” He laid his hand against her cheek, curved it over the delicate arch of bone and rubbed his thumb across her mouth. “Sweetheart, there are things I haven’t told you…” He paused, silently cursed himself. Where was all the fluency that served him so well in the courtroom? “Baby, we’ve only known each other a handful of days and yet—”
“I know.” She smiled, caught hold of his hand and kissed it. “It’s the same for me. We only just met and yet, I’ve told you things I’ve never told another soul.” He kissed her. Her lips parted, clung to his, and she looped her arms around his neck. “I’ve never been so happy,” she said softly.
The simple admission felt like a blow to the heart. “Dawn,” he said, “sweetheart—”
“You’re the first man I ever made love with. What happened with my husband wasn’t… You’re the first, Gray. And it was wonderful.”
“Yes. It was.”
“And you’re the first man I’ve ever trusted.” She gave a sad little laugh. “The first person I’ve ever trusted. I don’t think you know what that means to me, to be able to trust someone.”
“Baby, remember what you said before? About things being complicated? Well, it’s true. Life never goes in a straight line. There are twists and turns and detours, and—”
She drew him toward her. “And you were right,” she murmured, her lips a breath away. “We uncomplicated it, in this bed.”
She kissed him again, and the sweet innocence of it pierced his heart. He wasn’t worthy of her trust. He wanted to tell her that but if he did, God, if he did, he’d lose her. There had to be a way to tell her the truth without raising the stakes so high.
“Yes,” he said gruffly, “we did.”
Dawn smiled. “I love the way you talk. That accent,” she said, when he lifted his eyebrows. “That little touch of Texas that you can’t quite disguise.”
“I don’t try to disguise it,” he said defensively. She was the one who raised her eyebrows this time and he chuckled. “Okay, maybe I do. Truth is, even when I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to get out of Texas.”
“Why? I mean, I can tell you’re, well, that you were brought up in a nice home.”
“A nice home?”
“Uh-huh. Don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean.”
He grinned. “That somebody taught me which fork to use for my salad? That kind of stuff?”
Dawn tapped his chin with her fist. “Go on, make fun of me. Yes, that kind of stuff. Those things matter. You don’t know how much unless you have to learn them when you’re all grown up.”