One to Protect (One to Hold 3)

I can’t find it. I sit back on my heels watching the water disappear. “No no NO!!!” Diving forward, I plunge both my hands in the half-inch left, frantically sweeping dying bubbles aside, feeling all over the bottom of the large tub.

Derek grasps my upper arms. “Mel, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“It’s not here.” My throat is so tight, I almost can’t speak the words. Jumping up, I run to the kitchen, my eyes sweeping every inch of the floor as I go.

My bag is sitting on the counter, and I grab it, flip it over and dump the contents all over the bar. Lipstick, wallet, keys, pens, peppermint, loose change, dental floss… I sweep my fingers through it all, desperate. “No!” I whisper, my voice cracking with tears.

Derek’s right with me as I run out to the side porch, flipping on the light. So much adrenaline is pulsing through me, I don’t even notice the cold. Shoving my hands into the cushions, I grasp and feel…

Nothing. Nothing…

It’s not there.

“Oh, god!” I collapse against the small couch, a flood of tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’ve lost it… I’ve lost it.”

“What, baby?” Derek’s voice cracks now. “What have you lost?”

“Your necklace…” A sob hiccups in my throat, momentarily stealing my words. “Your heart… I lost it. Oh god…”

More tears soak my cheeks, and he pulls me against his chest. We’re both sitting cross-legged in towels on the floor of my screened-in side porch. It’s freezing, but I can’t tell if I’m shaking from the cold or the heartbreak.

One large hand holds my waist, the other smooths my back, but even Derek’s massive strength can salvage what’s happened.

I lean back to look at him, but I can’t speak. The shivering and crying have stolen my words.

I can tell he’s lost. His brow creases with helplessness. “But… It wasn’t really my heart. It was just a symbol—”

Shaking my head, my chin drops. “No. You gave it to me. It was the first thing you ever gave me, and I loved it so much.” Tears are streaming down my face. I can’t stop them.

I’m on the verge of ugly crying, and I don’t even care. That little necklace was more precious to me than the most expensive piece of jewelry I might ever get in my life, and now it’s gone.

“Melissa. Stop. Look at me.” He lifts my chin and pulls my face close to his, kissing the tears on my cheeks. “My heart is here, with you. You always have my heart, even without a symbol. I’m always yours.”

I slip my arm around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder, and he gathers me to his chest and stands, holding me. For the briefest second, I wonder at his ability to do that so easily. Then my memory floods as he walks us back to the bedroom and fresh tears come.

“You’re so tired.” His voice is quiet and soothing as he places me on the bed, pulling back the blankets. “We’ll look for it tomorrow. It’ll turn up. I promise.”

I want to believe that, but somehow, I’m certain it’s gone.

Untying the towel still under my arms, he removes it then lifts my legs and puts them between the sheets. We’re both naked when he slides in beside me. Hugging me close, he strokes the top of my arm slowly.

“Just rest, and trust me. We’ll find that necklace.” His voice is warm and comforting, and I must be more tired than I realized. Or the sadness has taken my strength.

Either way, it’s not long before my heavy limbs relax, and I succumb to sleep.

Chapter 7: Patrick’s Proposal

Derek

Only a few times in my life have I felt completely helpless, and the top two occurred in the last twenty-four hours. Watching Mel fall apart last night was almost as bad as that fucking drive from Raleigh. Holding her now as she sleeps, I think about what happened.

As if dealing with Sloan isn’t enough, she’s completely undone over a necklace, a trinket that cost me less than two hundred dollars. You’d think it was made of pure platinum encrusted with diamonds.

If I remember correctly, she threatened to throw it in the ocean once when she was angry with me. Now it’s more valuable than what we thought was hidden in Al Capone’s empty vault, and I can’t console her.

At the same time, I adore her so much for it.

The fact that such a small thing, the only thing I could find that late night in Scottsdale to give her—the night when she’d first wanted to tell me she loved me but couldn’t. I’d wanted to tell her I loved her, too…