When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

It just means that in the end, the monsters are slain when a mighty battle is fought, but we survive.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Dash and I are on the treadmills, side-by-side, when a realization comes to me. I halt and look over at him. He punches his pause button and turns to look at me, both of us breathing heavily. “What, baby?”

“You didn’t involve me in a solution last night and look where we ended up.”

“I told you that won’t happen again.”

“I know. I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about me. I need to involve you in my solution. I want you to go with me to the coffee shop today.”

His hand covers my hand on the arm of my machine, and he says, “Good. I want to go with you, but I can sit outside or at another table and be close if you need me. That’s not excluding me, Allie. There’s no right or wrong answer to how you handle this. There’s just what feels like the best move and that has to come from your gut.”

“Yes,” I say. “Good advice. Thank you. Let’s run.”

He nods, and we both return to our workouts, my mind replaying so many moments in my past with my father. I never really gave him the chance to tell his side of the story, but then, he never really made an effort, either. And if that is him who’s been texting me, why won’t he answer his phone? I actually tried to call him on both numbers, the one he—or someone—texted me with, and the one I know to be his. A part of me prays my father is the one contacting me. The same part of me that wants him to show support for Dash after all that happened with Brandon. The little girl in me who still craves her father. If this is him, he is going to disappoint me again, but at least I will sit face-to-face with him and tell him how I feel. Something I was too cowardly to do in the past.

By the time I end my run and Dash does the same, I’ve made a decision. Dash and I step off our machines and I turn to look at him. “I’m done running. I’m really going to go to the coffee meeting, no matter who shows up.”

He touches my cheek. “I know, baby. I’m surprised you didn’t.”

There is a reason Dash and I were drawn to each other from the moment we met. We both look into the mirror and try not to see the truth, but when we look at each other, we see clearly. It’s funny how one person can shine a light on the darkness in our souls. I step forward and wrap my arms around Dash. “We can go early so you can write.”

“I was thinking more we could go get naked to work off your nerves.”

“We already did that,” I remind him, smiling. He makes me smile and I love that about Dash.

He arches a brow. “And?”

“You have a book to finish,” I chide. “You’re going to have me, Bella, and Ghost angry if you don’t finish it on time. Not to mention a legion of fans.”

“You’re a slave driver, woman, but yes. I do have a book to write. And if you want to go early, we’ll go early. And together.”

“Yes,” I say softly. “That’s what I’m telling you, Dash. I don’t need you to sit outside the coffee shop or at another table. Together.”

He strokes my hair behind my ear, a gentle touch that swims through my senses, and says, “Always, Allie.”

“And if Brandon shows up instead of my father?”

“I’ll beat his ass, of course.”

My eyes go wide. “Dash—”

He laughs. “I told you. That’s not how I play this game.”

“Then how do you play it?”

“Like I’m Ghost.”

“You want to kill him.”

“Not literally, baby. But I have a plan.”

“And that plan is?”

“To sic Bella on him,” he laughs, scooping me up in his arms. “All other questions must be asked naked in the shower.”

In other words, no more questions, but I’m laughing as he carries me through a public gym. A woman snaps our pictures and murmurs something about Dash Black. Good Lord, I have bad hair again. And for a man who likes to keep a low profile, he’s not keeping a low profile.

But maybe the shower is exactly where I demand a promise that he doesn’t beat Brandon’s ass. Even if I wish he could.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dash and I dress warmly—me in blue jeans and a violet sweater, Dash in all black—before we walk to lunch. Another short walk and we arrive at the coffee shop. With two hours to spare before the meeting with my father, or perhaps Brandon, we order our coffees and open our MacBooks. It’s a familiar thing for us now, being beside each other, working, just being together.