Without A Trace: Inside The Lines Part 17

After she leaves, he eyes me, and I look away. I don't know how to start, even though I rehea.r.s.ed what I wanted to say on the plane ride.

"Were ye looking to join the football league? Or were ye going to say something?" He chides me lightly, but there's a bit of frustration behind the words.

I glance over at him, then return my gaze to the fork in front of me, twisting it between my fingers. "Sorry. I keep trying to figure out what to say, actually, but everything sounds a bit...ridiculous."

"Why don't ye start with why ye're here?"

"Because I'm an idiot? Because I've missed you every day since I acted like an a.s.shole? Because I should have been honest with you instead of hiding behind my fear?"

He pauses, and when I look up, I'm surprised to find a bit of awe on his face.

"d.a.m.n, woman, when ye jump in, ye go all the way."

I raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, I was a Dominatrix for a reason."

"Was? Are ye retired, then?" A shadow of his crooked smile appears.

"Something like that." I sigh, then continue. "Kinked-the dating service I was working on-it's doing really well, so it takes up all my time."

"Well then. That's good. Congratulations," he says quietly.

My earlier statement hangs over us, and now it's his turn to fidget, tearing the edge of a napkin.

"Ye said ye dinna love me."

The anguish behind his simple statement hits me like a blow to the stomach. "I know. I'm sorry. I have no excuses for the way I acted. I was fighting you as much as I was fighting myself."

"What changed for ye? If ye couldna love me then, as I loved ye, why is it different now?"

I've struggled with how to respond to this question for the last few weeks, and I've never had a satisfactory answer. Not because I haven't changed my way of thinking, but more because I don't know how to put it into words. And for the first time, I have to do it for more than just myself-I owe it to Fin. "Because I lied to you, Fin. I loved you even then. So much, it scared me. I've never felt that way. I mean, I've been ain love.' With all the l.u.s.t and excitement that it entails, sure. But I've never felt for anyone what I felt-feel-for you, and it took my world apart. Who was I if I wasn't independent and a loner? What kind of career could I have and still have a relationship? And so I fought it. I fought you."

"But I never asked ye to change anything."

If I thought I had caused him pain before, the look on his face now...it occurs to me how monstrous I truly was to him. And I'm ashamed. "I know you didn't. This is not your fault. None of it. I had a lot of s.h.i.t to deal with from when I was a teenager, and honestly, I didn't even know how deep it went. But I'm taking care of it now. I found a therapist, and I'm working through all the c.r.a.p in my head." I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold in the tiny amount of heat left as my body chills at the realization that too much damage has been done. I can't repair this. "You didn't deserve any of the c.r.a.p I put you through. I'm sorry."

He looks at me, his emotions deepening the brackets around his mouth and the wounds in his eyes. "I know ye are. And I appreciate ye coming all this way to tell me that. But I dinna ken what to say. Ye broke me, Lux Trace. And it hurt. I've spent the last year trying to get over ye."

I nod, the tears needling my eyes as I blink quickly, determined not to cry in front of him. "I know. And it's okay. I needed to at least apologize. I realize that it's been a really long time, and you're probably already seeing someone else."

He looks down guiltily.

d.a.m.n. I had no idea what it would feel like to have my heart ripped in two, but the pain is magnificent. "Oh, G.o.d. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-" I wipe at the tears viciously. "No, I should have. I needed to apologize to you. You deserve to be happy, and I hope you are." I reach out, unable to resist touching him one last time, and squeeze his hand, his fingers hot against the ice of mine. Then I shrug out of his coat, leaving it on the back of the chair. With one last look at him, his handsome face a mask I can't quite decipher, I leave the restaurant.

Chapter 30.

If At First You Don't Succeed February The New Year brings with it a sense of renewal, and while I can't say I'm feeling particularly hopeful about my love life, I'm determined to make a fresh start.

Kinked has exploded, and I have a huge staff-well, to me, it's huge. Divine, Inc. has even contacted me about investing, but I've been putting them off. Noah's back to his womanizing ways, and though I've asked a few questions, he clams up, so I let him go. Far be it from me to be telling someone how they should live.

I live part-time in the city, actually. Zi and I have been testing out being roommates, and so far, it's going pretty well. It's nice to see her more. But I've been a city girl for too long to give it up entirely. Noah says he's sharing custody of me.

I've tried dating. Twice. With less than stunning results. Running a dating service certainly makes it convenient, but my luck at love's as fickle as the next person's, I guess. As I told my therapist, I'm trying to trust that when the time is right, I'll meet the right person. In the meantime, I have vibrators.

Oh, and Noah got a puppy. I'm not sure if it's something to do with women being attracted to men with dogs-though, given that Noah's a hottie, he needn't worry-but it's a little rescue pup named Tag, so when I'm home, we take turns letting him out.

It's Valentine's Day, but I'm trying not to think about it. I've got plenty of spreadsheets that need attention, web design drafts that need to be reviewed, and Tag is determined to ruin my concentration with his dark little eyes and determination to step all over my keyboard.

Noah peeks his head into the living room. "Hey, can you hang around the place for a little bit? Tag hasn't p.o.o.ped yet, and I don't trust him, do I, little man?" Noah addresses the dog with a singsong voice.

Tag glances up at him from his resting place on my lap, where he's batting at my hands as I type. I ruffle his ears, then stroke his silky head. "I got Tag-watch for this afternoon. What time will you be back?"

"An hour? Maybe two?"

"Lunchtime f.u.c.k, or an actual date?"

Noah's mouth presses into a flat line of mock indignation. "Just for that, I will give you no details, you evil wench." He flounces out the door dramatically, making me laugh.

Tag watches me curiously but is easily satisfied with a tummy rub, and I return to reading emails. Within minutes, though, there's a knock at the door. Tag hasn't quite got the hang of barking yet, so instead, he whimpers and looks up at me.

"I know, killer. I'll take care of the big bad visitor." I deposit him in the kitchen, which is gated off to prevent against messes on the living room carpet, then head to the door.

I nearly swallow my tongue when I see who it is.

He's cut his hair. It's not short, but gone are the long curls that I saw in December. He's freshly shaven, and he wears a blue sweater and trendy jeans, with leather sneakers, a backpack hanging from one shoulder. It's such a different look for him, but I couldn't care less as I meet his gaze.

"h.e.l.lo," he says softly.

"Hi." I memorize his face while my heart pounds in my ears.

"Do ye happen to know where a tourist can get a coffee nearby? I seem to have lost my way."

I'm not sure how to answer that. "Um..."

He chuckles, taking a step back self-consciously. "Aye, now that it's my turn to start the conversation, I seem to have the same problem ye did." But when his eyes meet mine, the questions there need no words.

I'm fresh-faced, still in last night's pajama pants, and I'm not even sure that I brushed my teeth this morning. That doesn't stop me from pulling his mouth to mine. When his arm encircles me, I lean into him, exploring him hungrily. He holds me against him, stepping inside so he can close the door behind us.

His hands seek out flesh, slipping beneath my hoodie. I unzip it for easy removal, and then tug at his t-shirt. We're naked and breathless in less than a minute, and when he lifts me, I wrap my legs around him. Pressing me against the foyer wall, he slides into me slowly.

"Holy f.u.c.k," I whisper against his neck, feeling impossibly full. I gasp when he starts to move, but then he kisses me, holding my a.s.s so he can reach into me even deeper. I cling to him, unable to take a full breath as sensation takes over.

Sandwiched between him and the wall, I can't move as he pulls out, then drives into me again, this time with force. He cups my jaw, looking into my eyes as he thrusts again. And again. Until finally his mouth savages mine as we get lost in the rhythm.

When the intensity is too much, he carries me to the couch. I straddle him and sink my fingers into his hair, pulling his head back so I have unrestricted access to his mouth. With punishing slowness, I rock my hips, reveling in the feel of him, the slick connection that's driving our desire. When I can no longer take anymore, I ride him hard, overtaken by white-hot pleasure as his hands curl over my shoulders, holding me against him as he finally shudders his own release.

When I slip off of him, he pulls me down to the couch, stretching out beside me.

"That was a lot easier than starting the conversation." He lifts up on one elbow so he can trace my cheek with a finger. "But I still have a few things to say to ye."

"I'm listening." I reach for the throw on the back of the couch and spread it over us.

He ponders for a moment. "Aye, well, ye see, when ye came to Scotland-and I ken it was no small feat for ye. I remembered that ye hated to fly. So I knew a powerful thing drove ye to see me. But, d.a.m.n, Lux, ye messed me up, love. I withdrew my application to college, left my internship, and went home, just to figure out how to get over ye. My poor mother had to put up with me living back under her roof-and believe me when I say, she had no love for her prodigal son taking up in her newly furnished sewing room." He chuckles, but then sobers. "I'd just started seeing someone, and there ye stood, reminding me all too well of how much I still cared for ye." He tangles his fingers with mine, then presses my knuckles to his lips. "It killed me to watch ye go, but ye had truly shocked me. I had no idea ye still even thought of me."

"G.o.d, Fin, I am so sorry. I don't even have a good excuse-"

"Hush now." He covers my mouth with our joined hands. "Let me finish. As I was saying, I'd just started seeing someone. And she is a verra nice woman. So I couldna even entertain what ye'd said until I figured out what I was doing with her, ye see."

My heart squeezes at the thought of him with someone else. "I take it that's addressed, then?"

A corner of his mouth turns up as he gazes down at me. "She is a verra nice woman, but she's not ye, Lux. And I knew I was leaving, ye ken? So how fair would that have been?"

"Leaving for?"

He exhales, then kisses me hard on the mouth. "If ye'd let me finish what I was saying, this would be a lot easier."

I chuckle, then nod. "Proceed."

He looks at the ceiling. "Dammit, woman, I can't remember where I was."

"You were saying something about another woman."

"Ye would remember that part, eh? Aye, I had to straighten out that part of things, which was easy enough. We'd been out a few times while I was home, but since I was returning to the States, there wasn't much more discussion to be had. And before ye ask, I was accepted at Cornell's veterinary program. I started in January."

"That's awesome! Congratulations!" I lean forward to kiss him, and he indulges me, but then pushes me back.

"But as I was saying...f.u.c.k it, I can't even remember what I was going to say."

He thinks for a moment, and I revel in the warmth of him beside me. I have no idea what happens next, but this feeling, the rightness of him beside me is all I need for now. I draw his face down to mine, kiss his lips with as much gentleness as possible. "I love you, Fin. I am sorry that I-"

"Stop. I dinna want to hear that ye're sorry. Ye already said it. This isn't all yer fault. Ye dinna ask to be hurt or mistreated. And I know ye dinna mean to take it out on me. I'm only sorry that it happened to ye." He lifts my hand and kisses my palm before laying it over his heart. "I've loved ye since the first night ye yelled at me in the hotel."

"Oh G.o.d," I say, my cheeks heating up. "I was such a shrew."

"Aye, but I was determined to make ye my shrew," he teases.

I stick my tongue out at him, but then he kisses me until I can't take a full breath.

"Unfair diversion."

He smiles at me. "So, I have a plan in mind, if ye're game?"

I nod, feeling a warm flutter in my heart.

"We start fresh. Give this another good go. But," he punctuates the word with a hard gaze, "we have to promise two things to each other."

"Agreed."

"I dinna even tell ye what they are yet."

I grin, but then count them off on my fingers. "One: I will always respond to your texts or calls, even if only to say I can't talk right now. And two, I will tell you when something upsets me, even if it seems minor."

He blows out a breath. "d.a.m.n you, woman. Did ye turn psychic on me while I was gone?" He kisses me hard, then hops off the couch. "I nearly forgot. I have a present for ye." He returns moments later with his backpack. "I dinna know when I bought this over a year ago that it would end up having as much meaning as it does." He withdraws a long white box, similar to what flowers might come in, but not quite as wide or long, with a dark blue ribbon tied around the middle.

He hands the box to me. "Do ye remember our first date?"

I finger the ribbon. "You mean when we went to the kid's restaurant?"

He chuckles. "Aye, well, that's not the part I meant." He gestures to the box. "Open it."

I eye him with mock suspicion as I untie the ribbon. Amid tissue paper lies a beautiful leather cuff with a hand-painted peac.o.c.k feather, nestled beside the real thing.

"Ye said that night that the peac.o.c.k represented rebirth, another chance to get things right," he says softly.

The cuff's leather feels like b.u.t.ter, and I handle it gently, admiring its beauty.

His fingers graze my shoulder, outlining the curves of my tattoo. "Perhaps that's what we do now."

I fasten the cuff around my wrist, then lean forward, pressing my mouth to his in a slow, sensual kiss. "You are my rebirth." I smile through the tears that threaten. "I've never met anyone who loves the way you do, without reserve or fear. And I want to be able to give you that in return." I press a finger to his lips when he starts to say something. "I lost myself somewhere along the way, and you showed me the way back. It took me a little while to find it," I grin wryly, "but I did. It's my goal that you will never have to doubt my love for you again." When our mouths meet, a promise lingers, and I sink into it happily.

A cry from the kitchen informs me that I have ten seconds before I'm cleaning up a mess. "c.r.a.p. I'm coming, Tag!" I call out to the puppy. "We have a puppy now. Technically, Noah does."

"Is that so?" Fin watches me curiously as I struggle back into my pajama pants and hoodie as I rush towards the kitchen. I manage to let Tag out in time, and Fin joins me as I walk the puppy down the block.

"Did Noah know you were coming?"

He slides an arm around my waist. "Aye. He warned me I might have waited too long. And he said something about not hurting ye, or he'd shove his foot up my a.r.s.e, I believe was the way he worded it."

I grin. "That sounds like Noah."

"He loves ye, as though ye were his sister."

Reaching down, I extract a leaf from Tag's mouth. "Honestly, I couldn't ask for a better family. Noah and Ella, Zi and Blue-whom you'll have to meet," I lean against him, looking up into his eyes. "And you. I don't think it gets much better."

He brushes his lips against my forehead. "Aye, and ye'll have a whole new family to meet in Scotland. Not to mention, quite a few of aem remember you from your run across the field on Christmas."

"Oh G.o.d."

He chuckles against my hair. "Ye definitely intrigued them."

"You have school for at least four years, right? Plenty of time to forget about that."

He chuckles. "Och, did ye learn nothing in history cla.s.s, love? Scots have terrible long memories."