Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale) (17 page)

His class was her body, and hers was his, and the only education they sought was pleasure. Mutual. Individual. What they liked. What they wanted. What they needed. Every night a taste of the paradise yet to come, and the very favorite moments of his entire life because, unlike the women he’d occasionally pleasured in the stables after a show, Verity meant something to him, and Verity didn’t leave.

When they weren’t making out, she lay on her back, and he rested on his side next to her, tracing words and pictures on her bare stomach as she told him stories about her parents and Ryan; her best friend, Elaine; and her high school quarterback boyfriend whom she hadn’t loved. She hated pecans. She adored the ocean. She wanted children. She was terrified of dogs.

He told her the good things he remembered about his parents—the way his mother smelled of apple pie and the gravelly sound of his father’s voice—and lots of good memories of his aunt Jane. He still hadn’t told her everything about Melody, but he would. Soon.

During one such conversation about what they each wanted from life, it suddenly tumbled out of his mouth that he’d like to go back to school and learn how to be a personal trainer, though he’d never actually verbalized such an idea before. She lit up like a firecracker, pushed him onto his back, straddled his waist, and told him that he
had
to do it. And then she leaned forward and kissed him, pulling her shirt over her head and pushing his to his neck until they were skin to skin.

“Promise you’ll do it,” she whispered, before kissing him like the world would explode if she didn’t.

There was something about her—about Verity Gwynn—that made anything seem possible, that made everything seem better, and before he knew it, Colton Lane woke up one month later to realize that he had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with her.

It wasn’t a slow realization. It was like a lightning bolt.

One Sunday morning, she placed a plate of whipped cream– and strawberry-garnished pancakes in front of him. Then, grinning at him, she plucked the strawberry from the cream and bit it before offering the rest to him.

That’s when he knew:

I’m in love with you.

That’s all it had taken—a smile and a strawberry.

Sunshine and a sweet place.

Hell, he’d never had a chance.

It had been a magical month for Verity Gwynn.

She and Ryan had settled into their jobs at
The Legend of Camelot
with unexpected ease. Although Artie gave her some pretty dirty looks when he passed her in the hallway at work, he hadn’t bothered her again as he had that day, and, as far as she knew, he didn’t bother Ryan either. In fact, Ryan was blossoming under Joe’s mentorship and guidance. He was already good with horses, but Joe was teaching him things, patiently correcting him when he did something wrong and praising him when he did something right. Her eyes misted to see the older man with his hand around Ryan’s shoulders, and she imagined that for Ryan, who’d missed their father terribly after he passed, Joe was easing an ache inside. And it made Verity grateful.

But she was most thankful of all for Colton in her life.

In short order, he had become her sun and moon, her best friend, her boyfriend, and, little by little, her lover. Though they hadn’t made love yet, she longed for the consummation of their relationship. It was harder and harder to leave him after watching a movie, curled up in the curve of his body, warm and safe, feeling more loved than she had a right to. No, he hadn’t said the words yet. Nor had she. But she felt them. With every passing day, she knew: she was falling deeply in love with Colton Lane.

Since losing their parents, Verity had been careful about how and when she shared news with Ryan. In a short amount of time, he’d endured a lot of change and transition, and it was important to Verity that, when she introduced Colton as her boyfriend and lover, Ryan understood it wasn’t a temporary arrangement—that Colton would be in their lives for a while and it was okay for Ryan to get attached.

With every passing day, she was more and more certain that she wanted that formal commitment with and to Colton, and she felt more and more certain that he wanted the same from her. This morning, for instance, she’d served him pancakes with strawberries and cream. She’d taken a bite of his strawberry, then giggled at his surprise, offering the rest to him. But the expression on his face as he sat at the table looking up at her was intensely tender, almost naked, and new in a way that felt different, that felt permanent, that felt like . . . love. It was then that she felt it in her gut: it was time to tell Ryan about them. And once she had, she could give herself completely to Colton.

With these thoughts swirling in her head, Verity found herself in Colton’s bed that night, a/c on full blast, fully clothed, under the covers, her back to his front, his arm slung over her hip as they watched the end of
Titanic
together.

“I totally would have shared that door with you,” she said, shaking her head in disgust as Jack was swallowed up by the sea and Rose hogged the wooden door that had more than enough room for two.

“I wouldn’t have risked you falling off it by jumping on.”

She made a sound like
pfffsht
and shook her head. “I wouldn’t have let you die without at least
trying
to share it first.”

“I’d
rather
die than put you in danger.”

“Colton,” she said, turning in his arms. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, baby.”

In the bluish-white ambient light from the TV, she could see his expression—the earnestness, the truth behind his words. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him, and the words she’d been dying to say for days and days suddenly fell from her lips in a rush: “I’m falling in love with you, Colton Lane.”

Without any hesitation, he said, “I feel the same way, sunshine.”

“You do?” she asked, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Promise,” he said.

She leaned forward and dropped her forehead into the curve of his neck. “I really want to tell Ryan about us. I’m ready.”

His arms around her tightened, then he reached for the remote and clicked off the TV. “I want to tell Mel about us too.”

“Melody? Your cousin?”

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark of the room, and she couldn’t see his expression, but she felt his lips brush her temple. “Uh-huh.”

“I assumed you had,” said Verity. “But, yeah, great. And I’d love to meet her.”

“About that . . .,” said Colton, letting his voice trail off.

His tentative tone made Verity wary, and she wondered what was going on. Stiffening a little in his arms, she leaned back, wishing she could see his face. She’d become adept at reading his expressions, and she felt a little lost lying next to him in the dark. Then again, he’d turned off the TV, and she wondered if it was by design. Maybe he didn’t want her to see his face. Maybe he had something to tell her that she wouldn’t want to hear.

“Colton . . .?” she prompted. When he didn’t saying anything, she grimaced. “Don’t you want me to meet her?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling her closer.

She believed him, but something didn’t feel right. She thought about what she knew of Melody and suddenly realized it wasn’t much. She was younger than Colton, and they’d grown up together. She had epilepsy. He loved her and felt protective of her and spent one or two nights a week visiting her. He’d mentioned a caregiver once so Verity assumed that she had a nurse on call for when she had seizures. But she suddenly realized that she didn’t know where Melody lived, and she didn’t know what she did for work. She didn’t even know what Melody looked like, and now she wondered what he hadn’t been sharing with her . . . because, whatever it was, she sensed it wasn’t insignificant.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

“At first I didn’t tell you, because I don’t tell anyone,” he said softly. “Not the guys I know at work. Not Sandy. No one.” He paused. “Then I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want the idea of Mel to scare you away . . . to overwhelm you.” He cleared his throat. “And there are some realities about her life that you may not like, but . . .”

She blinked, feeling confused and a little panicked. “But what?”

“But I won’t change those realities, because, no matter what you think, she has a good life. She’s happy.”

“You’re kind of scaring me,” said Verity, detangling herself from his arms and reaching for the light on his nightstand. The brightness made her squint as she sat up and crossed her legs, staring down at Colton, who was now lying on his back looking up at her. “I know she’s epileptic—”

“She has Down syndrome,” said Colton bluntly, his steady gaze unwavering. “She’s, uh, she’s a lot like Ryan.”

And suddenly everything—
everything
—made sense. The way he’d taken her and Ryan under his wing and helped them get jobs, how he hadn’t treated Ryan like a freak or looked at him funny, the way he’d beat the crap out of those guys at the motel, the reason he’d been charged with battery . . . and the reason he’d been acquitted.

Melody, his sweet place, his cousin, to whom he was devoted, was like Ryan.

“Colton,” she whispered, her throat filling with a lump so thick and big, she could barely speak around it.

Over the past few weeks, he’d introduced her to a new TV show—
Game of Thrones
—which she loved, and a line that stuck with her was,
The night is dark and full of terrors.
For Verity, who had inherited the care of Ryan, sometimes the world felt dark and full of terrors. Oh, she did her level best to meet challenges head-on and keep her chin up, but with a brother like Ryan counting on her, there were times when she ran out of steam to stay positive, and then the world could seem like a cold, cruel, and unforgiving place.

But since the moment Colton walked into her life, everything had changed. The world had become full of possibilities—bright and safe in a way she’d never known. And now it all made sense. They were kindred spirits, Colton Lane and Verity Gwynn, and her heart burst with the certainty of it—that the earth had turned his face to hers at exactly the right moment, when she needed him most and would see him for the beautiful person he was. Even though their brains had required a little longer to catch up, their hearts had recognized each other immediately.

He was staring up at her. His too-thin lips were tight, and his broken-and-never-fixed nose flared lightly. His hooded eyes tried to stay, but Verity knew how he felt about her—he was in too deep to keep his worry or his
hope
out of his steady, intense gaze.

“Are you outta here?” he finally asked with quiet resignation.

“Outta here?” she repeated dumbly.

“You don’t need someone else like Ryan in your life. You’ve got your hands full. I get it. That’s why I didn’t—”

Moving quickly from where she sat cross-legged beside him, she straddled his chest, sitting on his stomach and looking down at him angrily. “As long as we’re making confessions, you should know: I lied before.”

His eyes widened, and he scowled up at her.

“Don’t glare at me, Colton Lane,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She fixed him with an especially sassy look and repeated, “I lied before.”

His eyes searched hers frantically. “About what?”

“I’m not
falling
in love with you. I’m
in
love with you.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it for a moment. “I just didn’t want to freak you out. So I said that—”

“I love you too,” he said, jackknifing into a sitting position and burying his hands in her hair as his lips slammed into hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, dropping her hands softly to his back and letting him pull her against his body as fiercely as he needed to, to soothe his fear and affirm his relief as he kissed her. He’d experienced so much loss in his life—his parents, his aunt, his uncle, even, in a certain way, his cousin. She felt the full force of his relief as he understood he wouldn’t have to add Verity to that list, and she tightened her embrace, cradling him in her arms and letting him love her. She needed him to understand that his revelation about Melody wouldn’t lead her to reject him. Oh, no. Quite the opposite. It bound her to him in ways that she immediately felt but didn’t immediately understand, because the scope was too broad. The fit of them together had to be God’s plan because it was so good.

For now, all she knew was this:

You were meant for me. And I was meant for you. And I will
never
let you go.

As his kiss gentled, his tongue slid tenderly along hers. She ran her fingers up his back to the nape of his neck where she locked them, then leaned away to look up at him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, sensing he needed to hear the words.

“I was worried,” he admitted, grimacing in annoyance as the words escaped his lips.

“You shouldn’t have been.” She cocked her head. “You should have told me sooner.”

“I wasn’t sure I could trust you at first,” he said, his gray eyes deep and dark, “and by the time I knew I could trust you, I couldn’t deal with the idea of you leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said again, letting the love she felt warm her voice and her gaze. “You can trust me.”

“I know, baby.”

“So what is it about her life that I’m not going to like?”

He took a deep breath and sighed. “Could I ask you to trust me? I’ll set up a time when we can pick up Mel at her condo and—”

“I trust you,” she whispered, her voice as absolute as her heart. “That’s all.”

She moved experimentally over his hips, rolling into him to feel the massiveness of his erection, and then away.

“If it wasn’t midnight,” she said, her own voice husky in her ears, “I’d wake up Ryan right now and tell him that we’re a couple.”

Colton groaned in frustration, dropping his forehead to the curve of her neck. His lips touched down on her shoulder, and she shivered, arching against him.

He cleared his throat, but his voice was still gravelly with want. “I’m off on Tuesday. Spending it with Mel, taking her to the zoo. She likes that. Any chance you . . .”

Verity coughed lightly, touching her throat gingerly. “Oh no. I feel a cold coming on.”

He raised his head, grinning at her. “Full-blown flu by Tuesday?”

“You bet,” she said, giggling softly. “And I’m fairly certain that Ryan’s going to come down with it too.”

“You’ll call out sick?”

She winked at him.

“So we’ll tell them together?” he asked. “Ryan and Mel?”

She nodded, barely able to contain her happiness.

“Which means that Tuesday night,” he said, leaning down to claim her lips for another long, hot kiss, “you’re all mine.”

***

Knowing that Verity would be spending Tuesday night—
all night, finally, thank God, amen
—in his bed made Monday feel interminable, but it would have at least been uneventful were it not for Artie choosing to be an asshole again.

After a hand-to-hand combat practice session with Sebastian that lasted for most of the afternoon, Colt decided to check on Thor. Before meeting Verity, Colt had spent a lot of his free time with Thor, and he felt a little bad that his old friend was being a bit neglected, so he stole a carrot and apple from the kitchen and planned to visit with him for a little while before tonight’s show.