The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen - Debra Kayn Page 0,56
she had always known Dutch loved her.
He could send her away, never see her again, and the distance would never sever the bond they had between them.
Except, when he'd forced her away, it was no different than him leaving and never coming back.
"You look good, Marla Marie," said Dutch.
She stared at the tall, green grass swaying in the breeze. There was nothing to say to him.
He'd forced her out of his life for almost two years. Every day became more painful than the last without him.
She'd lived a colorless life without him, only going through the motions. Nothing brought her excitement or made her hope for tomorrow.
Tingles rolled down her spine, preparing for him. He rounded the picnic table and sat beside her, leaning against the edge of the table. Far enough away, his body never touched hers, but his warmth spread, encompassing the side of her.
"I swung by the house. You weren't there, so I came here to deal with business." He stretched his legs out in front of him. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
Her eyes blurred, but she refused to blink and take her out of the bubble she'd created. If she pretended he was back in prison, and she only imagined hearing his voice, she'd stay stronger. She wouldn't allow him to break her again.
"You're not going to talk to me, huh?"
She pressed her lips together. The urge to ask him why he was here almost impossible to stop.
"That's okay." He leaned forward. "I remember another time when you refused to talk."
Seeing him in her peripheral vision was the hardest thing she'd had to do. Her body ached at the painful hold she had on herself not to turn and fall into his arms.
"Falcon's giving you the night off. He knows there are things I need to talk to you about. Go ahead and grab your stuff, and I'll take you home," he said.
She used that as an excuse to walk away from him. Rushing into the building, she ducked into the small room where she kept her purse and turned in a circle, seeing if he followed her. When she declared herself alone, she sucked in vast amounts of air.
"Shit." She grabbed her head, panicked.
Dutch came back. He was here. What was she doing?
He would follow her home. She couldn't take having him around.
She bent at the waist, feeling as if she would vomit. God, she wanted him.
Every single day, she missed him.
Even though they were broken up, having him here with her gave her a rush as if she belonged to him. She belonged to this world. Where she deserved to be happy and loved.
Before she fell apart, she grabbed her purse and found her keys. Maybe he expected her to leave out the back door, but she'd parked in the front.
What if he'd come to explain why he doesn't want her? What if he came to kick her completely away from everything WAKOM?
Nervous panic trilled through her. Maybe, she could get home and lock the door before he realized she'd left. She didn't want to hear what he had to say.
She wouldn't allow him to hurt her more.
In the main room, Rubble reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving. "You okay?"
She nodded, knowing if she opened her mouth, she'd cry.
"Go home, honey. Take care of you and come back tomorrow."
She left the pool hall and rushed to her car, sliding into the driver's seat. It took three times to get the key into the ignition because her hands trembled.
She couldn't tell what time it was or how many hours she'd worked. The sun was still out. Dutch had all night if he wanted to talk.
Speak of the devil.
Dutch walked out of the building and to his Harley. His long stride caused an ache between her legs.
There were many fantasies wrapped around him. Things she never got to do with him because he sat in a prison cell.
A raspy moan escaped her chest. She had to stop thinking like that.
Alyssa had mentioned Dutch hanging out with the women in the club.
While she'd pandered away her days and nights alone, obsessed with him, he'd tried everything possible to forget her.
Or, maybe he hadn't had to try at all.
She put the car in Reverse and backed out of the parking lot. Driving out of town, she refused to look in her rear-view mirror. She knew he was there. The roar of his bike penetrated her car.