“No.” Chelsea shook her head. “Nothing. This is something I should have done a long time ago.” He was surprised by the level of relief that rolled through him. “Z,” she said, “why are you—”
“Will you please go back to calling me Dagan?” he interrupted.
“Oh-kay…” She licked her lips, and his eyes pinged down to catch the movement. A longing unlike anything he had ever known gripped him. Chelsea had a mouth that was something out of a wet dream. And now that he knew what she could do with it…
For the love of all that’s holy!
“Why are you—” She tried again, but a drill whirred to life, which set off the dog next door. The big, rangy mutt ran to the row of bushes separating the two properties and started barking its head off. Which had Grace running out to shoo it away, yelling, “Git! Go on! Stop your fool barkin’, you mangy mongrel!”
Once again, Dagan felt the corner of his mouth twitch.
“Let’s walk down to the dock!” Chelsea yelled over the racket. “It’ll be quieter down there!”
She lifted a hand as if to place it on his arm, and his breath hitched. If she touched him, he… Well, he didn’t know what would happen. All he knew was that he had missed her touch like he would miss his own beating heart. But then she stopped, swallowed, and dropped her hand to her side.
Disappointment hit him over the head at the same time she waved him down the steps. She guided him around the side of the house where a little walkway had been created out of large, flat pieces of sandstone.
Once they reached the back of the property, he saw with his own eyes what before he had only seen on a map. Chelsea’s childhood home backed up to a body of water called Chowan Creek. But more than that, it had an expansive view of Port Royal Sound.
To say the place was beautiful would be a disservice. The only word Dagan could come up with that came close to describing the view wasstunning.
The wind smelled of wet earth and slowly moving water. The afternoon sky was a deep robin’s-egg blue. And the sight of Chelsea, walking ahead of him in a soft purple sweater and painted-on jeans, was the only thing in the world he could think of that could compete with the sheer, natural splendor surrounding him.
The boards of the dock were weathered but whole, and the whir of the drill was soon eclipsed by the sound of water lapping around the base of the pilings and thetweedle-do-tweedle-do-tweetof a wren in a nearby tree.
They took a seat on the built-in bench at the end of the dock. For a while, they said nothing, simply watched the sunlight dapple the water and the wind push at the creek. The space between them seemed filled with possibility. And, finally, he turned to ask the question that had plagued him since his call with Director Russell. But to his surprise, what came out of his mouth was something else entirely.
Chapter 53
“How’s your arm?”
Chelsea released a pent-up breath. Whatever she had been expecting Dagan to say, that wasn’t it. The odd look on his face told her he was as surprised as she was by the question.
She lifted her arm and gave it a wiggle. “Almost as good as new.”
“Good.” He nodded without looking at her. Instead, he kept his focus on the undulating, sun-dappled surface of the creek and the crane fishing in the reeds along the far bank. “And all the press? Losing your anonymity? How are you dealing with that?”
She studied his profile, his straight nose, his high cheekbones, and his ridiculously thick eyelashes. Why had she never noticed before how long and sooty they were? Oh, right. Because usually when she looked into his eyes, she was too mesmerized by the swirl of his stormy irises to pay attention to anything else.
“I mean, it’s not ideal, right?” she told him. “But it is what it is.Qué será, será.The fact that Morrison’s depravities have been brought to light and the fact that BKI is a step closer to nailing Spider makes it worth it.”
He nodded again. “And your mother? How is she handling all this?”
“Like she handles pretty much everything. With grace and aplomb and a few homespun anecdotes.”
He laughed. The rumbling sound was as clear as moonshine and packed a wallop to match. Her heart, already thudding wildly in her chest, beat faster. “And how long are you planning to stay with—”
“Dagan, please stop.” The shock of his arrival had worn off, and now the ache of his radio silence over the last five days was back in full force. Every day, every hour, everyminuteshe had waited to hear from him. There had even been times when she had wondered if any of it had been real, or if she’d simply imagined the desperate way he had made love to her, the certainty in his eyes when he told that she held the key to his heart. Then she would look at her naked body in the mirror, and the proof of the former at least was there for her to see.
The love bite he had left on her inner thigh had faded from deep purple to soft pink. She was dreading the day it disappeared completely. Then the only evidence she would have of what they had shared would be the Dagan-shaped hole in her heart.
“I know you didn’t come all this way to blow smoke up my ass,” she continued. “So why don’t you say whatever it is you need to say, or ask me whatever it is you need to ask me. Because right now the suspense”—and the uncertainty—“is killing me.”
A crooked smile tilted his mouth. He tried to hide it by running a hand over the Beard. “Patience has never been one of your virtues, has it?”
“That, and I have a serious aversion to small talk and bullshit.”
“Seems to run in your family.” That crooked smile lingered for a second longer, then faded. “You told Director Russell what happened.”
