“Understood.” Raymond didn’t bother with questions. “Don’t worry, son. I’ll keep them safe.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Love you, son.”
“Love you too.”
He hung up, relief washing over him. Jax clapped him on the back in a silent gesture of solidarity. “I’ll get some waters and a first aid kit. Be right back.”
Dawson nodded and then turned his attention to Peyton. Her hair was a wild mess, glass glinting from within the strands. She’d lowered her arms to the table and rested her forehead on them. Her shoulders sagged. A cut drew a line across the skin of her wrist, and even from his standing position, her body was visibly shaking. Worry cramped his insides. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Peyton…”
“It’s the adrenaline.” She sucked in a shaking breath. “I was in a car accident a couple of years ago.”
His chest tightened. Peyton wouldn’t be this shaken up if it’d been a minor fender bender. Images of car accidents he'd responded to over the years hit him all at once. “How bad?”
“Bad.”
The words came out in a whisper. Dawson’s heart clenched, and he didn’t think. He tugged her into a standing position and then into his arms. She was stiff for half a second, and then she relaxed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He lowered his cheek to her tangled hair. Nothing in this world felt more right than when Peyton was in his arms.
Memories came without warning. Stolen kisses and moonlight strolls. Running through the parking lot during a spring thunderstorm, Peyton laughing, her hair stuck to her face. Her lopsided grin when he caught her shaking her Christmas presents. The way she held his hand at his grandfather’s funeral. Thousands of tiny, inconsequential moments that made up the fabric of his life.
It would be so much easier if he could stay angry with her. Keep her at arm’s length. Goodness knows, he had good reason to. But that was like asking him to stop breathing— impossible, involuntary, pointless to try. Peyton was a part of him, no matter how much, at times, he wished otherwise.
The plan had been so simple. Protect her and Grace, solve the case, clear the air, and say goodbye. But he could feel it crumbling like sand beneath him. He’d been a fool to think this would ever be simple. His heart remembered what his mind had forced him to forget.
For fifteen years, he’d loved her. Completely. Utterly.
When she raised her head from his chest, and their eyes met, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to cup her face. Her skin was silky smooth under the pads of his fingers. He traced the curve of her cheek, as he had so many times before. Her breath caught. Those gorgeous lips parted, and her hazel eyes darkened with a familiar desire.
Every part of him ached to close that distance. To press his lips to hers and pretend the last five years hadn't happened. But they had. And a kiss in a conference room after a near-death experience wouldn’t fix what was broken between them.
And things were broken between them, no matter what his heart said.
They were shattered. Irreparable.
Dawson released her and stepped back. The chair behind him sailed across the room and slammed into the wall. Hewinced at the noise. The scent of jasmine clung to him, and his hands ached to hold her again. He needed to get out of this room. “I should update the chief on what happened. Check if they caught the van.”
Peyton blinked, as if coming out of a haze. Her cheeks heated and her gaze skittered away from him. “Right. Yeah.”
Dawson turned on his heel and crossed to the door. He resisted the urge to look back. He didn’t want to know if he’d see regret or heartache on her face. What good would it do? There was only one way this ended, and it wasn’t with them together.
He needed to keep his head in the game. Now more than ever. Solving this case wasn’t just about Lilia and Grace anymore. Peyton’s life was on the line too. Dawson would do whatever was necessary to protect her. And when it was all over, he would say goodbye.
He had to. There was no other choice.
TEN
Half an hour later, Peyton could still feel the heat of Dawson’s hand cupping her cheek. She’d purposefully chosen a chair across the room from him, members of the task force filling the space between them, and yet it still didn’t feel far enough. She’d almost kissed him. Been a breath away from it.
She’d dodged a bullet, in more ways than one.
Dawson was still angry. Peyton knew he cared for her—and probably always would—but she’d be foolish to think that was enough to erase the pain she’d caused by walking out the door. She’d hurt him. Deeply. Yes, she’d been a mess at the time, grieving and heartbroken, and so angry with herself and God and the world that none of Dawson’s love could cut through. An explanation she prayed would blunt his pain once it was shared. But nothing she said would ever lead to him trusting her again.
They’d made vows. She’d broken them.
So yes, kissing Dawson would’ve been a terrible mistake. It would’ve only further entangled her heart and tipped the scales on what was already a delicate balancing act. They had a case to work together. Lilia’s life was at risk, and Grace was in danger.Peyton needed to shove these feelings for Dawson into a vault and leave them there for the moment.
And when this was over…the best she could hope for was to part on good terms.
