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He cracked a grin that showed the dimple in his cheek. A grin that washed all her worries away, blush darkening her face.
“You turn all shades of red when you’re around me,” Darien said, his fingers playing with the little shops and restaurants on her bracelet. “Did you know that?”
“Only because you’re so charming.”
That teasing smile faltered. “You think too highly of me, sweetheart.”
“You don’t think highly enough of yourself.”
Every trace of humor in his expression faded, that adorable smile shifting into a frown. “I’m going to fix this.”
Loren’s heart stumbled, the too-brief moment of peace slipping through her grasp. Her hands tightened around his, fingernails digging into his calloused palms. “Darien, what do you mean fix this? I don’t want you anywhere near her. And not for the reasons you might think.”
“What are you so worried about, baby?”
She stuttered her words. “Earlier, when she was in your dining room—”
“Our dining room.”
“—our dining room, she looked crazed. Like she…like she would’ve murdered me if Travis hadn’t been here.”
A muscle feathered in Darien’s jaw. “Which is exactly why I need to deal with this.”
“No, it is exactly why you need to stay away from her.”
“She can’t hurt me, Loren. Not many people can.” He raised her hand to his mouth and planted a kiss on her knuckles. “And I’ll never stand by and give anyone the opportunity to hurt you.” He squeezed her hand lightly before releasing her and walking into their suite. “We need to get ready, or we’re going to be late for dinner.”
Loren blew out a sigh and dug her nails into her scalp. Her heart was kicking up a storm in her chest, and her stomach felt like it was full of butterflies, but not the good kind.
Darien was right—they were going to be late if they didn’t start getting ready.
Another time. She would deal with this Valary situation another time, when she was more equipped to handle it.
13
“It’s this turn here.” Loren gestured to a road up ahead. It was narrow, the entrance all but engulfed by the dense foliage of pin oaks and jacaranda.
Darien slammed on the brake and cranked the steering wheel to the right. Cars flew by on the freeway, a few of the drivers blaring their horns. Darien gave one guy the middle finger.
“You’d think they would’ve marked it better,” he muttered as he drove down the road that looped through Eternal Light Memorial Gardens. The tires hummed on fresh pavement, and birdsong drifted through the cracked-open sunroof.
Dinner was in forty minutes, so they would need to be quick. Loren knew if she hadn’t set aside the time to come here today, she likely would’ve chickened out. She didn’t know why she was so nervous; the funeral had taken place three days ago, and the grounds were deserted. They both wanted to pay their respects, but without the chance of running into someone who might make a scene. Loren felt guilty for not going to the actual funeral, but the bouquet she held carefully in her lap, along with the visit itself, would hopefully make up for it.
Darien parked on the side of the road that looped through the cemetery and got out. Loren unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed her door open, minding the delicate flowers. She was about to step out when she noticed Darien was already there, one hand propping the door open, the other outstretched toward her.
She took his hand, and he helped her out of the car.
“Take your time,” Darien said, his grip on her hand steady. “Do you want me to hold the flowers?”
“I think I can manage.” She balanced the bouquet—a tasteful mix of cream roses, white lilies, and hydrangea—gently, taking care not to squish them or get pollen all over her long white jacket.
The grave wasn’t far, and it wasn’t hard to spot either. Within a handful of minutes, they were standing before it in silence as a cool breeze that smelled of damp earth and the spice of many flowers blew around them.
In loving memory of Ivador Langdon,
Beloved husband, father, son, and teacher
Died 7297
