Love Is Crazy (Love Is… #1) (12 page)

“I mean, some of it sounds nice. I want someone to love. Someone who loves me. But how can I know what that looks like yet? How can I know if that means he wants a big house and a big car and a big family when I haven’t even met him yet?”

Except maybe I have met him. Maybe he’s right beside me.

I pause, just a little too drunk to process that thought. Have we gotten there already? A week, a sunset, and a camping trip and I’m ready to profess my undying love? Maybe I need to put down the beer.

“But doesn’t it matter what you want?” asks Dominic. “Why do you have to meet him to know what you want?”

“I guess that’s the thing. I guess I do know what I want. And maybe, when I meet the guy he’ll be cut from the same cloth as me. And maybe, instead of the house and car and the lawn, we just … wander.”

I meet Dominic’s eyes, my heart pounding. Blood roaring in my veins. The silent spot filled up with the buzz of worry. I intentionally used some of his words there and that might have been a terrible, jet-lagged, drunken mistake or it might be the greatest idea of my life. It all depends on what comes out of Dominic’s mouth next.

And wouldn’t you know, he just smiles at me—kindness softening his dark eyes—and sits back in his chair and stares out at the sunset.

T
he silence
between us isn’t awkward, but it sure isn’t answering any of the questions flying around my head. I dropped a great big hint for him to pick up and throw my way. A great big ‘hey, I think you’re pretty awesome what do you think about me?’ and the fact that he’s just letting it hang there between us is killing me. I sit quietly for as long as I can, reminding myself of all the reasons I should just be quiet and enjoy the time without pushing him to have a conversation he might not want to have.

But I’m not very patient under the best of circumstances. Add in some jet-lag and some beer that went straight to my head and I’m a walking bad decision.

“What about you?” I ask while I internally scream at myself to shut up. “Do you see yourself falling in love and working in the yard?” Oh God. What
am
I
doing?
“I mean, not like you have a yard now. So that’s kind of a stupid question. You don’t even have a home. You just wander. But in a good way.”

Holy shit, shut UP, Dakota.

I clamp my mouth shut and take a long breath in through my nose. “Sorry,” I say and instantly bite my lip against any other stupidity that might make its way through.

Dominic studies me. Looks at me like he can see right past the goofy grin I’m trying to hide behind and find the frightened little numbskull inside. “That’s a great big question mark,” he says. In the dying light of the evening sun, his eyes go hard. “You give someone your heart and you give them the ability to rip it right out of you.” He squints out into the sunset. “Leave you hollow.” He tilts his beer back and finishes it.

It’s clear I’m treading on the edges of some deep dark truths of his. But I just let him tread on one of mine.
And
I’m supposed to be trying to get to know him better to help figure out if he’s truly worthy of the little flames of whatever that feeling is that’s warm and wonderful budding in my belly.

“That’s true,” I say, following his gaze out to the sky. “But isn’t a happily ever after worth the risk?”

“We’re not all entitled to a happily ever after, Dakota.” Normally, I like the way he says my name. Not now. There’s an edge to it that makes my stomach drop.

I pull out my one-thousand-watt smile. The one that is fun and positive and happy. The one I reserve for tense situations that need a little nudge in the right direction. “I guess that’s true. But with the right person?” I lift my eyebrows and sigh dreamily, trying to feed him the same line the people of Townsbury have swallowed. The same line I’m not even sure I believe. I just want him to look at me and smile.

He does look at me. He doesn’t smile. He sighs deeply and shakes his head. “My parents loved each other very much. Thought they had found the right person. Hell, back then, they probably
had
found the right person. But as they grew older, they grew apart. Cultivated separate interests. Separate friends. Separate dreams. Now they share a home and get mad when the other gets in the way.” He runs a hand over his mouth and chin. “I don’t want that.”

“But don’t you think that when you find the right person, you are already both pointed in the same direction? That you cultivate the same interests because you are both on the same path? That it’s a choice to grow together instead of apart?” I realize that maybe I’m coming on a little too strong so I sit back and take another drink of my beer. Which was probably a mistake, given my already shoddy conversation decisions. Water is the best bet from this point forward.

“I used to believe in love. Life just has a way, you know?” The anger has faded from Dominic’s eyes and now I feel like I’m just seeing him, the truth of him without all the emotions behind it. “Now I mostly wonder if it’s all just fairy tale stuff sold to us to keep us docile.”

“What happened?” I swallow and try to ignore the strange surge of fear that sends a bit of ice through my veins.

Dominic stares at me for a long time and I really start to regret all the questions I’ve been asking. I mean, maybe I’m going too fast. Digging into the bits and pieces of him that he’s not ready to share. Or won’t ever share. Or that I won’t like to hear.

“Did you know I actually grew up in Farmington?” he asks, interrupting my inner monologue of self-doubt. “That town you visited with your friend? With the carnival?”

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t.” My mind is nothing but question marks and exclamation points. Farmington?! This seasoned world traveler grew up just a few miles away from me? In a town barely bigger than mine? I struggle to marry what I know about the man in front of me with what I remember about the boys I met who grew up there.

“Maybe that’s why I fell so in love with those National Geographic pictures. I got a little tired of the corn, too.” He winks at me and my jaw drops.

“But you were busy going on and on about its beauty…”

“Because it is beautiful. I just had to leave to figure it out.” Dominic shrugs and falls silent.

This would be a perfect point to stop poking the bear. To stop asking dumb questions about things he clearly isn’t comfortable talking about. Just lean back in my chair and go back to enjoying the scenery with a hot man I barely know.

“So what does Farmington have to do with love being a fairy tale?”

Or, you know, I could just go on and keep pushing the matter.

Dominic clears his throat. “I fell in love with my high school sweetheart. Melinda. I’m talking hard core in love. We dated our junior and senior years and I never looked at another girl.”

“That’s a pretty big claim. I don’t think there’s a teenaged boy on the planet who only has eyes for one girl.”

“Well, there was.” He points his thumbs at his chest. “This guy. I let my love for her define me. We graduated. I was young and dumb and idealistic. You know that carnival you were talking about? I took her there that summer. Had a ring in my pocket and a promise in my head. She had other ideas.”

I try to imagine a young Dominic Kane, head over heels and ready to profess his undying love to his high school sweetheart. I didn’t think I could like the guy any more than I already did. I also know he’s expecting me to judge him for this, but it only makes him all the more endearing.

“We were standing in front of this ridiculous ride. My big plan was to get her on it and then pop the question as we came to a stop, while our hearts were still racing from the adrenaline. Instead, while we were waiting in line, she told me she wanted to break up. That she had been seeing someone else. No…” The pain of that night twisted his face. “She said she had been fucking someone else. Said we’d grown apart. That it was nothing more than a foolish dream to think we would love each other forever. I lost my mind. Said a lot of awful things. Even threw the ring at her. I stormed away as she called after me. I just told her to ride the damn ride and let the wind wipe away all her memories of me or something dumb like that.”

Dominic swallows and clears his throat. “She did. It malfunctioned and she was thrown from the ride. Died on the spot.”

He watches me digest the story and it gets stuck in my throat. What do I say? How do I say it?

“It wasn’t your fault,” I say, taking a wild guess at the hidden meaning behind his story.

“I hear that a lot. And I believe it. Now. Most of the time.” He makes an apologetic face. “There was a long stretch of time that I spent unable to sleep, kept awake by all the guilt. If only I’d been strong enough to just walk away. If only I’d been man enough to stay and fight with her. For her. Maybe she wouldn’t have gotten on the ride. The ride I told her to get on.”

I open my mouth to protest and Dominic interrupts.

“I’ve made my peace with it now.” He smiles at me. “It’s lost most of its weight. It’s just a thing that happened to me.”

The look in his eyes says that he means what he’s saying, but I’m not so sure it’s as true as he thinks it is. “Maybe,” I say and want to clamp a hand over my mouth so I will just stop talking already and not make thing weird. “Except you’re kind of still carrying it around.”

Dominic squints at me and my heart starts going all kinds of fluttery and crazy. I promise myself that if I make it through this conversation without him getting all mad at me, then I will just shut up and smile and not worry about pushing him for more information.

“How so?” he asks and I remember the way he looked when he had his arm around that guy’s neck at The Bad Apple. Not that I think he’s going to get me in a choke hold or anything, but he’s just got that dangerous air about him.

You know what? In for a penny, in for a pound. If he’s the kind of guy I have to walk on egg shells around, then maybe he’s not the guy for me. And that was the point of this whole conversation, right? Finding out who he really is?

“Well,” I say and twist in my chair so I can really look him in the eye. “If it was just a thing that happened to you, it wouldn’t still be keeping you bitter about love.” Dominic starts to protest and I hold up my hand. “I’m not saying you’re bitter—”

“You totally just called me bitter.”

“Well, you are the one who just told me that not everyone was entitled to a happily ever after. That sounds a little bitter, Dominic.”

He shrugs. “I guess maybe I’m a little bitter. But I’ve let myself love four people in this live, Dakota. My sister, my parents, and Melinda. My sister was ripped from my life when I was too young to understand and there’s still a gaping hole in my heart where she belongs. My parents slowly froze themselves out, growing more and more distant after her death, after they realized that I just wasn’t going to be her. And then Melinda. I gave her my heart. All of me. Not only did she hand it back to me all crumpled and bruised, but she died before I had any chance at closure. Any at all.”

Jesus. Now that he puts it that way, maybe I was too quick to judge. Maybe, with my happy London upbringing with all my favorite people still around to hold onto when times are hard, I had no right to tell him anything about how to handle his battle scars.

I try to apologize and he waves it off. “My heart is just surrounded by scar tissue is all. Makes it a little tougher, a little harder to get to. But,” he says and makes a face that has excitement running up and down my spine. “Once you’re in, you’re in for good.”

I don’t know if he was trying to lay down a serious hint right there or not, but I took it whether he meant it that way or not. I’m tingling with excitement. Busy wondering how far into his heart I already am. We sit in silence as the sun sets the sky on fire and then puts itself to bed. At some point, he reaches out and takes my hand, twining my fingers with his. My thoughts keep swirling around his words, wondering at their meaning, but I finally, with the help of a little more beer, manage to talk myself into just letting it be. Why worry about what this relationship is when I can just sit here and enjoy the way we’re together? Why worry about the future at the expense of the present?

Especially when the present includes watching the moon rise over the Grand Canyon while a flickering fire casts undulating shadows out past the tall trees. When my hand is in his and his is in mine and this is quite possibly the best day of my entire life. Why waste this moment over worry about what might be?

I stop stifling my yawns and just let them go, leaning my head back into my chair, eyes blurred with jet-lag, beer, and the weariness that only comes after an exciting day. Dominic catches me dozing and helps me stand. We crawl into our tent. Change into our pajamas and curl up together. We’re on our sides, Dominic’s front pressed to my back, his arm around me, holding me close. I fall asleep with his breath in my hair, the warmth of his body seeping into my own.

It’s nice.

It’s better than nice.

It’s absolutely wonderful.