Page 107 of Dove
Darkness swallowed my words. Silence was all that answered me.
Shifting in his arms, I turned to face him. Through the window we had opened to let in the night breeze, his eyes glowedbronze in the subtle light of the moon. I could just make out the handsome features of his face, softened by uncertainty.
“I wouldn’t have told Gareth,” I stressed. “You know I wouldn’t have.”
His chest rose and fell in a near silent sigh. “Dove, it?—”
“No more excuses.” I stabbed my finger into his bare chest. “No more runarounds. I want the truth.”
Josh took my hand in his and brought it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my fingertips. “Okay, Dove. The truth. I promise.”
The sincerity in his voice calmed the desperation in me, and I settled, allowing myself to snuggle further into his warmth, allowing him time to think through his answer.
It better be a damn good one.
His fingers trailed up and down my spine, back and forth, back and forth, until I was half convinced he was trying to lull me to sleep. I was half a second away from chastising him for the underhanded tactic when he finally spoke.
“Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever had to make.” His low, whispered voice broke the silence. “Cutting you off, ignoring you…itkilledme, but I had to sever you off completely. Otherwise, leaving never would have stuck. One word from you, one tearful plea, and I’d have turned right back around. But I promise you, baby”—his rough voice turned solemn—“I felt you every day, like a phantom fucking limb.”
The raw honesty in his words had me blinking up at him, heart racing, any trace of sleepiness gone.
“A part of me…” He cleared his throat like what he was about to say was difficult for him to get out. His hand stilled on the middle of my back, a warm weight. I understood his reluctance, even if I waited with bated breath for what he was about to say. Josh and I had always been honest with each other, but I was far better at expressing my emotions than he was. He’d opened upto me eventually, but it had taken time. It hurt my heart to think he had no one to talk to while he was gone. It made me hungry to know every part of the life Josh had led beyond the farm these past few years—who he trusted, where he called home, what he’d been doing to support himself. I wanted to know everything.
But those were questions for another time.
“A part of me,” Josh repeated, soft and slow, like he didn’t want to be admitting this to me at all, “believed him.”
“Believed who?” I asked, although I already knew. My fingers came up to tentatively trace over the dip of his collarbone, tracing the shadow there, created from the moonlight streaming in through the window.
“Gareth.”
That one-word answer was enough. I could only imagine the kinds of things his father had said to him that night.
“What did you believe?” I prodded, wanting to know but also afraid of what he was about to say. He tensed against me and my wandering fingers caressed down his arm in comfort.
“That I was disgusting. Sick. Perverted.” Josh looked at me, eyes intense and slightly sad. “I mean, this isn’t exactly… normal.”
That was putting it mildly.
“We’re not related,” I pointed out. A reminder for both of us, because it was something I was still having trouble coming to terms with. That no matter what anyone else had to say about our relationship, we weren’t doing anything disgusting or illicit.
Josh snorted, and his fingers flexed along my back. “Do you think my father cared about that at all? He only cared about what people around here would think. His son falling in love with the stepdaughter he’d helped raise. My god, could you imagine what the locals would have to say about that?”
“I don’t care what people think.” I said that with more bravado than I actually felt. Maybe if I repeated it enough times,I’d believe it. “All I care about is you.” That, at least, was the truth.
His hand left the small of my back to stroke my cheek and the sadness in his tentative smile was emphasized by the moonlight stretched across it. “That’s why I left, Dove. That’s why I didn’t call, or text, or write. Because I care about you, and I didn’t want to jeopardize your home, or my father’s love for you, because of my sick feelings.”
The misery in his voice had me leaning forward to plant a kiss on his mouth. At first Josh stilled against me, but then the hand cupping my cheek shifted to clasp the back of my neck so he could tug me closer as he kissed me back.
“Your feelings aren’t sick,” I murmured against his mouth, placing another quick kiss to his lips. “And if they are, that means mine are, too.”
He shook his head. “Nothing about you could be sick, Dove. Never. You’re perfect.”
Warmth spread through me at the conviction in his tone. It reminded me of how he’d sounded in the shower when he said those same words. I ducked my head, thankful for the cover of darkness that helped hide my blush. I wasn’t perfect by any means, far from it, but it sure was nice to hear Josh say it.
There was one last thing bothering me, and I debated bringing it up. He’d already been so honest and heartfelt, I didn’t want to push, but I needed to know or else it would always be in the back of my mind, festering like a bad wound.
In a quiet, imploring voice, I finally allowed myself to ask the question I’d been wanting an answer to since he’d been back. “And the day of the accident?” I bit my lip, uncertainly filling me. Maybe Ididn’twant to know. Bringing that day up was too fresh, too painful. “You ignored my calls and texts but showed up anyway… I don’t get it.”
