Chapter 29
DAISY
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I wake up the next morning feeling a heavy ache in my stomach as bright, startling sunlight filters into the bedroom. It’s as though the storm was just a distant dream and my fear was nothing but a nightmare. Groaning, I shift upwards, careful not to wake Dalton who is slumbering beside me, his soft breaths coasting over the bare skin of my arm. Reaching for him, I run my fingers lightly over his shoulder, so grateful he was there for me last night, feeling a swell of… love, expanding in my chest. It’s a scary feeling, but I feel the truth of it nevertheless. Did I question myself about this feeling for hours before the storm took hold last night? Yes, I did. But do I know that it’s real? Absolutely. This isn’t lust decorated in false love. It’s true and pure, and I won’t deny it to myself a second longer.
I’m in love with Dalton Gunn.
Shifting, I feel a wetness between my legs, and despite the joy I feel, my heart sinks a little knowing without needing to look that I’m bleeding. Pulling back the covers, I slide off the bed, noticing a small patch of deep red on the pristine white sheets and the cotton of my pale blue pyjama shorts.
“Shit,” I murmur, padding towards the bathroom, a deep ache from my period spreading across my stomach as I lift up the toilet seat and pull down my pyjama shorts and underwear.
My periods have always been on the heavy side, and this time is no different. When I think about it, I realise that my last period was just before I moved in with Dalton, over seven weeks ago now. They’ve always been irregular, but it’s never really concerned me, it’s just a part of who I am. Yet here I am staring at the blood, disappointment blooming inside my chest, and even though I know that it’s foolish to believe that I could fall pregnant so quickly, I can’t help but feel a little sad about it.
“Daisy?” Dalton calls, a question in his voice, and my cheeks flame as I realise that he’s probably spotted the blood.
“Just give me a moment,” I reply, relieving myself and wiping between my legs.
“Are you okay? There’s blood,” he says, approaching the bathroom.
“Don’t come in. I need to clean up,” I say quickly, sliding off my stained shorts, and reaching for a towel, wrapping it around my waist as he pushes open the bathroom door.
“You’re bleeding,” he repeats, concern etching his features with a frown.
“Dalton, I’m fine. It’s just my period.” My cheeks heat as I gather up my dirty clothes, but he doesn’t leave. Instead he steps into the bathroom, eyeing me.
“You’ve got your period?” he asks, almost as if he can’t believe it himself.
“I’m a woman. It happens,” I shrug, smiling to cover up another rush of disappointment.
Dalton blinks a few times before shaking his head. “Of course it does. Sorry. It’s just…”
“You’ve never spent long enough with a woman to have to deal with situations like this? Don’t worry, I’ll call room service and get them to change the bedding,” I reply, wincing at how that sounds.
“That wasn’t what I was thinking at all,” he mutters, swiping a hand through his hair.
“What then?” I question softly.
“I guess I thought…” he mumbles, swiping a hand through his hair.
“That I’d fall pregnant straight away?” I smile then, trying to ease the sudden tension between us. “It doesn’t happen like that. I mean, for most people anyway.”
“Maybe… I… Shit, sorry. I’m not sure how to handle this.”
“A cup of tea would be good,” I offer.
“Of course, yes. Let me get that for you,” he says, hovering in the doorway, sleep still lingering around his eyes. My heart tugs at that, at how I’ve seen him polished and smart in his business suits, confident and sure in his motorbike leathers, relaxed and playful in casual clothes, and mussed-up with sleep. I like knowing I’ve seen so many sides to him.
“What is it?”
“So, erm, are you in pain? Should I get you some painkillers?”
I nod, feeling another twinge in my stomach. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Okay, sure. Do you need anything else?”
“Could you grab me some clean underwear and a sundress, please?” I ask him.
“Sure, hang on.”
A moment later he returns with the items, passing them to me.
“Thank you,” I murmur as he steps closer and presses a kiss against my forehead, his hand sliding into my hair. For a moment we stand pressed against each other with his lips brushing against my skin, his fingers coiled in my hair. I let out a soft sigh, wanting nothing more than to curl into him, to tell him that I love him.
I love you.
But I don’t of course, knowing that he isn’t ready to hear the words, that he isn’t at the same place I am, even though last night it felt like maybe he was, maybe he is. I push that thought away.
“I’m going to take a shower now,” I say, and he steps back, giving me one last lingering look before stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
Fifteen minutes later I’m clean and dressed, thankful that I hadn’t forgotten to bring some tampons with me. When I step out of the bathroom I notice that bedding has been stripped and warm air filters into the room as I go in search of Dalton. I find him sitting outside, nursing a cup of coffee as I approach.
Gently pressing my fingers against his bare shoulder as I pass him by, I take a seat at the table, noticing a couple of painkillers on a side plate and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, as well as the cup of tea I requested.
“Did the maid come already?” I ask, picking up the pills and popping them in my mouth as I wash them down with the orange juice.
“No. I stripped the bed, and left them folded by the front door. They’ll be here in a few minutes to collect them and change the bedding.”
“You stripped the bed?” I ask, a little surprised if I’m honest.
“It’s no big deal, Daisy,” he shrugs. “Besides, I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed or anything.”
“I’m not embarrassed, but you seem a little uncomfortable,” I point out.
“No, I’m not. Sorry, this is new to me, that’s all. Like you said, I’ve never been with a woman long enough to be around them when this happens.”
“Ahh,” I reply, trying not to laugh at the heat that creeps up his cheeks. “Well, I guess you’d better get used to it because this will be happening a lot more in the future.”
“Not if my little soldiers have got anything to say about it,” he replies, smirking a little as he peers over at me behind a swathe of auburn hair.
“Your little soldiers?” I snort out a laugh. “Are you talking about your sperm, Dalton?”
He grins. “What can I say, they’ll be marching straight to your womb the second they get the chance.”
“They will, will they?”
“Yep,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ with a wink.
I laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at his playful teasing, finding myself so at ease in his company. After all the years of hatred between us I would never have believed this was possible, yet it feels almost effortless falling for him. Despite the slight sting when he asked me not to reveal my feelings last night, I understood where he was coming from, that he needs time, and now we have it. He wouldn't have asked for my help if he didn't want to explore these emotions and our growing bond, which gives me hope that one day he will reciprocate my love. I should be more scared than I am, but strangely, I’m not.
“Well, let’s hope they’re good swimmers then,” I tease back, taking a sip of my tea, trying to hide the rush of heat flooding my cheeks at the thought of him filling me with his cum.
Dalton chuckles. “Trust me, my little soldiers are top notch.”
I giggle. “I’ll take your word for it.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying our drinks and watching the ocean lap at the sea gently as though it wasn’t trying to gouge out huge piles of sand last night during the storm.
Last night I’d spiralled fast and if it wasn’t for Dalton, I dread to think where my memories would’ve taken me. I shiver at the thought, my past not quite locked back into that box I keep it in.
“Hey, are you cold? Do you need a cardigan?” Dalton asks me, interrupting my thoughts.
“It’s ninety degrees, Dalton. I’m just fine,” I say.
“You were shivering,” he points out. “Are you in pain? Should I get a doctor or something?” He frowns, moving to stand as though he’s about to storm off and do just that.
“No, honestly, I’m fine,” I say, reaching for his arm and tugging on it so that he sits back down.
“Daisy…” he says, a warning note to his voice.
“Dalton. Please, I’m fine.”
“Then what is it?”
I heave out a breath. “Last night… I…”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers.
“It’s not that. Just sometimes after that happens, it takes me a while to readjust, to slip back into feeling like myself and not that desperately broken child I once was. Doesn’t help that I’m on my period either,” I admit, wincing a little at the dull ache.
“I hate what they did to you,” he says, anger laced within his words.
“I do too, but please, can we not talk about it anymore? It’s better that way. I don’t want to remember that time. I want to forget it.”
“Of course. I’m sorry…” he apologies, his voice trailing off as his gaze drops from my face to my stomach where my hand is pressed gently against it. “It’s our last few hours together before we have to catch our flight this afternoon. I wanted to take you somewhere, but if you’d rather stay here and rest, that’s okay too.”
“I don’t need to rest. Let’s do whatever you were thinking.”
“But you’re in pain.”
“It’s manageable.”
“I don’t want you to have to manage it,” he says a little gruffly. “I don’t want you to be in pain.”
“It’s no big deal. You get used to it. I’m okay, truly,” I say, reaching for him, but as my hand presses against his, he reaches for me and tugs me into his arms.
“C’mere,” he says, and I let out a surprised laugh as I drop onto his lap.
“Are you feeling okay, Dalton?”
“I don’t like to see you hurting,” he says quietly, and even as his large hand presses against my stomach gently I know he’s not talking about my period pain this time, but how I was last night.
“You helped ease that hurt,” I whisper, cupping his face and clutching him to my chest. “Thank you.”
He nods, his fingers coasting over my stomach, rubbing gentle circles over the cotton of my sundress. “I feel protective of you, Daisy.”
“I know,” I reply, stroking his stubbled check, loving how his arm curls around my back, how comfortable I feel in his arms, how loved. Maybe I’m wrong to assume that, but I can’t help it. I do feel loved in this moment, and even if he’s not in love with me, right now his empathy and kindness is enough.
“I always have…” His voice trails off as he shifts a little, looking up at me.
“I see that now,” I admit.
“You do?”
“Yes. Though, admittedly, every time you interfered with my love life before I thought you were just being an arse.”
He lets out a soft laugh. “I can’t deny that I was an arse too.”
We fall silent, and I feel another surge of love unfurling in my chest, this connection between us tethered not just by the few weeks we’ve spent together since I moved into his home, but by years of shared memories. Somehow they’ve woven us together, I just hope they’re strong enough to keep us that way.
“Thirty-eight,” he murmurs eventually.
I frown. “Thirty-eight?”
“Yes,” he replies, lifting his hand and gently swiping his finger across my cheek, over the bridge of my nose and across the other cheek. “You have thirty-eight freckles scattered across your face.”
A smile pulls up my lips, as my heart doubles in size at his words. “You’ve counted them?”
“I’ve counted them,” he agrees.
“You know you really are good at making a girl fall in–”
But he cuts me off with a gentle press of his lips against mine, and I don’t protest, I simply curl into his arms, kissing him back.
“This is stunning!” I exclaim, stepping onto the grassy area that leads to a dozen rocks circling a pool of crystal clear water, a waterfall cascading from a cliff face behind it.
“I found it the last time I was here. I’m glad you like it,” he says, grinning. “I thought you might like to take a swim?”
“I’d love to. This is perfect.”
He nods, and we drop our bags, stripping down to our swimsuits. I glance over at him, at the way the sunlight shines through his reddish-brown strands, the colour vibrant against the dark stone and green moss clinging to the surface of the cliff face behind him.
Taking my hand in his, Dalton leads me to a slab of rock that seems to act as a natural jetty. My gaze falls to the deep pool of water, and the way the sun seems to dance all the way down to the bottom, fracturing light into shades of turquoise, and crystalline blue. It must be at least thirty-feet deep.
“It goes down a long way,” I comment.
“It does. Are you scared?”
“A little,” I reply, wrinkling my nose, wondering if there are any creatures swimming in the depths that I should be aware of. I can’t see any, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
“Don’t be. I’ve got you,” he replies, squeezing my fingers. “We jump together, okay?”
“Together,” I murmur, looking up at him as he gives me a soft, tentative smile. Somehow those words feel loaded, but I don’t have time to question them as he tugs on my hand.
“After three. One, two, three!” he yells, and then we’re both leaping into the pool and are under the surface in seconds.
We break the surface together, our laughter mingling with the sound of the waterfall behind us as we tread water for a moment, taking in the beauty of our surroundings. Then Dalton releases my hand and dives beneath the surface, appearing a few metres away.
“Come,” he says, disappearing behind the spray of the waterfall.
I follow him, blinking my eyes free of water as I pass through the waterfall to find him standing on a submerged rock, the lower half of his body hidden beneath the water, glistening droplets sliding over his beautiful, suntanned skin.
When I reach him, he helps me to stand on the rock, and with his hair slicked back and an intense look on his face, he takes me in his arms, his cool skin pressed against mine.
“This has been the best ten days of my life,” he confesses as I wrap my arms around his neck, the cool mist from the waterfall kissing our skin.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I joke, but his eyes flicker with hurt, and I instantly regret my words. “Dalton, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“I’ve never felt like this before, Daisy. Never. Please believe me,” he urges, gripping me tighter, his expression serious.
“I do believe you,” I reply as my gaze meets his. There’s a mixture of desire and tenderness swirling in his deep blue eyes that makes my breath hitch. “You know I feel the same way.”
He nods, thoughtful.
“It’s so beautiful here. Thank you for bringing me.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, then leans in slowly and presses a soft, whispering kiss against my lips that soon deepens, igniting the connection between us once again, setting my skin ablaze.
Eventually we pull apart, breathless, smiling, happy.
“You know…” he starts, hesitating a little as he brushes his lips across my cheek.
“What?” I whisper.
He pulls back slightly, staring into my eyes once more. “I have something I want to say,” he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
“Okay,” I reply, waiting, my heart swelling, my breath hitching. Time stands still, and I can see how he fights with himself. I can barely breathe as he struggles to form words.
“I’m… I think… Fuck,” he mutters, smiling ruefully.
“It’s okay,” I reply.
His smile falls. “Why is this so hard for me?”
“It’s okay,” I repeat, meaning it. “I can do this for the both of us.”
“Do what?”
“You know what,” I whisper against his lips.
“Daisy.” He groans softly, bringing his head down to rest on my shoulder, and I reach up, caressing his damp hair. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes you do. You deserve to be loved, Dalton. I love you, and nothing and no one can take that away. Understand?”
He lifts his eyes to meet mine, startled almost.
“Seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag,” I say, my lips tilting up in a smile, not at all concerned that I’ve told him how I feel. I don’t even care that he doesn’t say he loves me back. I’m willing to wait, to hear him say those words of his own volition. I don’t want him to say them because he feels he has too. I want him to mean it.
“Say it again,” he commands, tugging me closer as though he can’t bear to have even a millimetre of space between us.
“Seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag…” I grin.
“Daisy!” he warns, his hand roaming up my back, his fingers tangling in my wet curls as he tugs on my hair and tilts my head back. “You know what I meant. Say it again.”
“I love you, Dalton,” I say, cupping his face with my hand. “And nothing and no one can take that away.”
“Nothing and no one,” he agrees solemnly.