Rock Bottom (Dawson Family 6)

“Sure,” I blurt, though I already know the answer. It’s a big fat no. I’ve established a life here, and more importantly…Dean is here.

I would have jumped at the opportunity to go back to Silver Ridge before. But now…now I know my life is here in Eastwood.Chapter 33DeanI flop back down in bed, pulling the covers up over myself. I’m cold without Rory next to me, and I almost feel guilty to go back to sleep knowing she’s on her way to work.

But I’m so fucking tired.

My eyes fall shut, and I’ll pulled back into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of times when Rory is here, in bed with me. We’re both naked, and of course my dream leads to us fucking like animals. I’m right at the good part of my dream, where my cock is buried in Rory, when I’m pulled from my sleep.

My eyes flutter open, and my cock aches, hard from the dream I was having. I roll over and bring my hand to it, stroking myself. I’m in that weird half-sleep, half-wake stage, not really aware of what I’m doing.

All I know is that I miss Rory and long to have her here next to me. I wouldn’t be rubbing one out, but could spread her legs and push my cock inside of her, coming at the same time she does.

The thought of her sends a jolt to my dick, and I roll over, imagining her here with me as I quicken my movements, jerking myself off. I’m almost there, about ready to come when the doorbell rings.

The fuck?

Rory has the garage code. Why is she ringing the doorbell? I open my eyes, squinting at the clock. She should be arriving at work right about now. Maybe the doorbell didn’t really ring and I imagined it?

I turn on my other side and reach for the pillow Rory was using, pulling it to me. It smells like her conditioner, and my heart aches missing her.

And then the doorbell rings again, and this time, there’s no mistaking it. I sit up, blinking, and shake myself. The doorbell rings again, and now I’m irritated. Who the fuck comes to the door at this hour? I pull on boxers and the pajama pants and then storm down the stairs.

Someone is standing on my porch, and I open the door, ready to tell them to fuck off. Shooting back the deadbolt, the words are right there, burning on my tongue. But when I open the door, my words die in my throat.

“Hi, Dean.”

I blink, staring down the woman on the porch.

“Kara?” I ask, breath clouding around me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” my ex-wife blurts. “I know this is a shock, but please, hear me out.” She holds up her hands.

“Why should I?”

“Because it’s really cold and it took me a while to find where you’d moved to.” She smiles, eyes meeting mine, and everything moves in slow motion.

She doesn’t look much different than she did the day I left. Her hair is the same shade of dark blonde, and I got her the coat she’s wearing three Christmases ago. She took a job in Newport only months after the divorce was final, and I haven’t seen her since.

“There’s nothing to say.” I take a step back, ready to close the door.

“There is.” She throws her hand out and my heart lurches in my chest. She doesn’t look any different, and I get a flashback to a few days before I walked in on her in bed with another man.

We’d been arguing over something stupid, something so small I can’t even remember what now. I didn’t want to fight anymore, so I grabbed her hands and made her dance with me.

We fell asleep tangled together after making love, and I remember feeling hopeful…that we could work things out and be happy again.

Hah.

“What?” I deadpan and take a step back, letting her in the house. It is cold, and I don’t have a shirt on. “What do you have to say?”

She closes the door behind her. “I’m sorry.” She lets out a breath. “I’m so, so sorry.” Her eyes fill with tears and a voice in the back of my mind tells me to comfort her, like I have before.

But she’s not my wife anymore. I have no commitment, no obligation to her.

“I forgive you,” I say with a huff, running my hand through my hair. “If that helps you move on…know that I forgive you.”

“Thank you.” She unzips her coat and my stomach flip flops, hating the way she’s looking at me. It’s foreign and familiar at the same time. “I miss you, Dean.”

“Kara, don’t,” I say, rubbing my forehead. My eyes fall shut and I can’t believe this is happening.

“You look good,” she says, stepping closer.

“I have a girlfriend,” I rush out, but it does nothing to stop Kara from advancing.