Because I Can (Necklace Trilogy 2)

“You were in a meeting with Hollywood, Dash, and I knew I’d be safe here. And he’s a client of Hawk Legal. I’m doing my job.”

“We both know you meeting him was not about your job. What the hell were you thinking, Allie?”

“You’re being confrontational, Dash.”

“Because I won’t sit back and let you get hurt.”

“He’s just worried about Allison. That’s all that was.”

“Is he? Because my man looking into her location can’t find her. At all, Allie. She’s a little too MIA for either of us to feel comfortable. And right now, Brad’s reading like a stalker.”

“You’re worried about her, too, now,” I say flatly. It’s not a question. It’s just me saying out loud what I already know. I’m not crazy. Something is wrong. Something happened to Allison.

“Right now, I’m worried about you,” he says. “You know you resemble her, right? And before you read into that, I mean, just enough that you fit a type. And I don’t like that.”

“He said that, too. Brad. He said I look like her.”

His expression tightens. “Did he now?”

“Yes, and while that sounds creepy all over again, I know, I don’t think he hurt her. He wouldn’t be looking for her if he knew where she was.”

“Or maybe he would. You have no idea the things I’ve seen. Don’t do something stupid like this again.”

“Stupid?” I demand, bristling all over again. “Did you really just say that to me, Dash?”

“Your actions, not you, Allie. I’m protecting you. We’ve had this conversation. I’m going to protect you, Allie. That’s non-negotiable.”

The bells on the door chime and I draw in a breath, trying to calm myself. I know Dash is worried about me and while that feels good, I’m also sharply and acutely reminded of that need for control he possesses. A need that comes from a dark place of pain and torment, that I can’t begin to understand but I believe it has to do with loss and death. Which means caring about me and believing I’m in danger in some way, has triggered him. But him being triggered is triggering me as well. I ran from my past, and part of that past was the control everyone but me had over me, to the point that I didn’t even recognize myself. And while I know that’s not Dash, I know that’s not his intent, right now, I just need a little space.

I need to breathe.

“I’m going to freshen up,” I say, grabbing my purse.

I don’t wait for his reply. I’m already on my feet and walking in the direction of the bakery’s private bathrooms, my heart racing, and my hands all but trembling. Dash affects me, intensely and emotionally. I react to him in a big way that is good and bad. Good in that I’m alive with him, I’m all in with him. Bad in that he can cut me with a word, hurt me without even trying. I turn left down the hallway and then right again, and when I’m finally almost to the sanctuary of the women’s room, where I can just pull myself together, Dash is suddenly there, catching my arm and rotating me into him.

“Don’t run, Allie,” he says, backing me against the door, his big body aligned with mine, his thighs capturing my thighs. I’m angry. I’m aroused by his nearness. I’m angry because I’m aroused when I should only be angry. Even angrier over the whole running thing. “Stop saying that to me.”

“You’re always one push from being out the door. We just did that. Are we going to do it again?”

“You’re pushing now,” I say. “That’s the point. You know you’re pushing me. Is that what you want? Because we both know whatever this is, doesn’t fit into your rule book for women.”

“The rule book was gone the minute I met you, Allie. And damn straight I’m pushing you, but not away. To be safe.”

“It feels like more.”

“Because you want it to.”

“Because it is,” I insist.

“No. You’re looking for a reason to run.”

“Oh my God, stop saying that to me, Dash. Because I’m angry at you does not mean I’m going to run or stop lo—” I catch myself before I confess way too much, before I confess my love for him. What am I doing? I try to deflect from my slip up. “Stop saying that to me.”

He reaches around me and opens the door. Before I know his intent, we’re inside the tiny bathroom meant for one, and he’s locking the door.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“We can’t be in here, Dash,” I whisper urgently. “Adrianna will be looking for us.”

“And yet, we are,” he says, his fingers tangling in my hair, tilting my gaze to his as he says, “I’m just making sure you know there’s nowhere to run. I’ll follow. That’s what you’ve done to me, Allie. That’s how much you’ve taken from me.”