When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

“Like you came back to me?” I dare to challenge.

His hands settle on my legs. “You are the calm in the storm that no one else but you knows is my life. And I’m sorry if I made you feel anything but how important you are to me, Allie. I was lost in the emotions my father made me feel. I didn’t want you to get trapped in a storm of my creation.”

“But you agree now that we have to ride out the storms together, right?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “Together.”

The doorbell rings, and Dash groans. “That’s going to be Bella.” He pushes to his feet, effectively ending our conversation.

Considering I’m barely dressed, I say, “I’ll go shower.”

He lifts me and helps me off the stool, before he says, once again. “Together, Allie.”

The doorbell rings again and he growls under his breath. “My damn sister.” He heads for the door and I hurry upstairs.

A few minutes later, I’m under the stream of the shower and I’m replaying Dash’s vow of together to me. The problem is he also told me I might end up hating him. Until he dares to tell me everything, to bare his soul, we are vulnerable. And that’s about trust. He doesn’t trust me to love him in the good, bad, and the ugly. No. He’s not going to ask me to marry him. And even if he did, I couldn’t say yes, not yet. Not until I know we don’t just weather the next storm together. We survive it.

And there will be another storm.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Turns out our visitor was not Bella, which I discover when Dash joins me in the shower. I don’t have a lot of time to ask who the heck was at our door so early either, because his mouth is on my mouth and his hands are all over my naked body. And he’s naked. Of course, he’s naked, we’re in the shower. And how can I think of anything when he’s naked? A storm is coming all right, and at least for now, it’s a good kind, right here under the spray of water, in our very own bathroom. I lose myself in the moment, in Dash, in being home with him, and everything good that makes me feel.

Not such a long time later, after dressing in one of my favorite black skirts, a black blazer, and a pale peachy blouse, I find a huge box on the kitchen counter.

“From my publisher,” Dash says, joining me at the counter, now dressed in black jeans and a matching T-shirt. “A congratulations for the great press.”

“They really do kiss your ass, don’t they?”

He laughs. “Yes, well, one poor-selling book and they’ll forget my name.”

“That’s true,” I say. “I didn’t like that about publishing.” I tap the top of the box. “What is it?”

“A shit ton of pastries and tickets to the next Keith Urban concert here in Nashville.”

Now he has my attention. I abandon the idea of a pastry for breakfast, focused on what matters. “You’re kidding me. When?”

“Two weeks. Fifth row. There are four tickets. I figured we could take your mom and stepdad if you think they’ll like it?”

“My God, yes, Dash. They’ll be elated but what about Bella?”

“It’s the weekend before Thanksgiving. Thanks to NASCAR testing an extended season this year, she’s going to see her dad race.”

I wrap my arms around him, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for thinking of my family.”

His hand flattens on my lower back, molding me closer. “I’d like to think of them as my family, too, baby.” His voice is low, silky.

My mother’s marriage comment is back in my head. I can’t help it. He put it there with that comment. “They are,” I assure him. “You know they are.”

“I’m starting to feel that and it’s good, Allie.”

“Well, as family, I must inform you that you’re officially on tree duty.”

He laughs and releases me, reaching for his coffee cup. “What does tree duty entail?”

“It means you get to put up not one, but two trees.”

He arches a brow. “Two?”

“My parent’s tree and ours, I hope.” I reclaim my barstool. “It’s kind of a family tradition to put it up on Thanksgiving. What do you normally do?”

“Since my mother died, nothing. Bella does it all. She bitches I don’t have a tree and rushes in here and puts one up. I have one in the storage room downstairs. There’s a bunch of the decorations we had with my mother as well.”

“Bella is an angel. And I can’t wait to see it. Is Thanksgiving night okay?”

“I think for the first time in a long time, the answer is yes.”

“Should we invite Bella over? Actually,” I say, as a thought hits me. “What if we host a tree trimming party and I invite my mom and stepdad? My mom is dying to see what the apartment is like.”