Edge of Bliss (Love on the Edge Book 3) Page 4

  Again, how did I get so lucky?

  An annoying fear cropped up behind the ball of bliss that was warming my heart, the cold fingers tickling behind the heat. Damn. It was like I expected the proverbial shoe to drop, or a rug to yank from beneath me, or some other cliché that equated to me being terrified of being so damned happy. With Justin, there had always been a price to any form of happiness—some dark shadow always on the edge of bliss—and I couldn’t help but worry now about it happening with Dash.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Dash said as I approached him, John, and Paul in the parking lot outside our rooms.

  I grinned at him. I was being ridiculous. Dash was my match in every way possible. No dark clouds loomed over him besides the ones we chased for a living. He would never let anything like that touch me ever again.

  I reminded myself of that several times, but the ice clung to my chest and refused to let go.

  “Every one of these places is the same,” I said into Dash’s ear as we waited for our drinks at the bar. This nightclub was like several we’d frequented since starting our trek down Tornado Alley. Big, loud, lots of grinding—and while I enjoyed letting loose after a long day of chasing—the choice between fighting crowds of people for overpriced beer or being alone with Dash in a bed somewhere was getting easier to make.

  “Ah, but this one has Linda,” Dash said, grabbing the longnecks the bartender handed him. He pointed across the room, his gaze fixated on John who talked to a gorgeous, petite blond in the corner.

  “He mentioned her before,” I said, taking my beer from him.

  “He always sees her every time we pass through here. She’s a waitress.” Dash found an empty standing table and scooted over to it. I followed him, parking myself on the opposite side so I could see his face as he spoke.

  “You guys come here every trip?”

  Dash took a long pull of his beer as he nodded. “Kind of tradition.”

  I eyed him, noticing the way he didn’t meet my gaze when he’d answered. I shook it off, smiling. “Well, I feel bad for him. If he loves her, a long-distance relationship can be rough but doable.”

  Dash snorted, setting down his drink. “That’s not the case.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows at him.

  He leaned closer over the table. “They have a more casual arrangement.”

  “Oh,” I said, quickly.

  He tilted his head. “That bother you?”

  “No, of course not.” I glanced over my shoulder, noticing how happy the two looked chatting. “Whatever makes him smile like that is so worth it. Don’t you think?”

  He nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “As long as no one is getting hurt in the process,” I added because I was fine with casual sex unless someone on the other end of it was unaware it was, in fact, casual. Not that I would know the first thing about it. I’d jumped straight from one relationship to the next. And despite there being a small break between the two, I hadn’t slept with anyone in between for sport.

  “Agreed,” Dash said, taking another drink.

  Sometimes—on nights when I felt totally out of my league with Dash . . . intimately—I wondered if that had been a mistake on my part. Not that I wanted to sleep with anyone else—the mere idea of it made me shudder—but I’d spent so many years feeling inadequate in bed. It was a hard habit to break, especially when I had absolutely nothing to offer Dash when it came to it. He’d been a player before his one and only long-term relationship with Lindsay, who he’d been dating for the tail end of a year when I’d first met him. And I’d never asked him to divulge the extent of his typical bachelor ways, but it wasn’t hard to guess he’d had about twenty times—or more—experience than I did in that department.

  I’d silence the thoughts with the fact that when Dash and I came together, it was electric, and I was a fast study—learning more of Dash’s turn-ons each time we made love. And he never did anything to make me feel like I wasn’t satisfying his every whim. I mean, we could barely keep our hands off each other as it was—why would I let a little thing like inexperience get to me?

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked, drawing me out of my thoughts as he touched my hand on the table.

  “The lab,” I blurted without thinking. I told Dash almost everything, but the thoughts I’d been having were something I’d always keep to myself. If he knew there was even a chance I doubted myself in that department . . . well, he’d probably come up with another rule like the one where he spanked me every time I said I was sorry.

  A flush raked across my skin, the thought of being draped across his knee thrilling and embarrassing all at the same time. Had to give the man credit, though, I had stopped apologizing every other sentence and sparingly used the word now.

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Really?”

  I nodded a little too quickly. “Totally. Aren’t you excited to take the data and footage back and really dig in? I feel like it was one big tease getting to glance at it before we had to hit the alley.”

  His smile lit up his eyes in the darkened room.

  “Did someone say big tease?” A female voice cut off whatever Dash had been about to say. The woman held an empty drink tray, her giant breasts straining to break free of her tight white T-shirt. Her blond hair hung down in flowing waves to her shoulders and her lips were rose red. “You must be talking about Dash Lexington!” She placed her hand on his back, the smile she donned indicating they were familiar with each other.

  My heart clenched. The way her perfect body turned toward him, paired with her casual touch and the moon-eyes she sported as she grinned at him, told me everything without him saying a word.

  They’d slept together.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat, threading my hands together under the table.

  “Candace,” Dash said, standing up straighter and casually slipping out of her grasp. “How are you?”

  His subtle move was completely lost on her because she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him with her full body pressed against him—not the middle school gap of space one would give to a friend.

  “I’m way better now that you’re here!” she squealed, holding him long enough to make me grit my teeth. I told myself to clear my throat or do something that would show my claim on the man she was draped across, but I was frozen from the inside out. Suddenly, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt like I had over a year ago—when I was nothing but Dash’s friend. The sensation rocked me to my core, sending icy shivers through my blood—I never wanted to be the woman I was back then again.

  Dash unhooked her arms, gently pushing her backward. “It’s been a while,” he said, stepping closer to me. “This is my girlfriend, Blake.” He extended a hand to me, and I tried my best to smile at her.

  She, on the other hand, didn’t try to hide her disappointment at all. The giddiness about her shifted instantly to one of utter regret. “Oh,” she said, snapping her fingers. “I thought . . .”

  What? What did she think?

  “You still going to culinary school?” Dash asked before she could finish her thought.

  She blinked a couple of times, her glare at me sharp enough to cut. “Veterinary school. And yes. Final year as we speak.”

  “Ah,” he said. “That’s right.”

  An awkward silence descended upon the three of us, and I had the urge to scream, or to kiss Dash, or anything to make it stop.

  “Good luck with that.” Dash genuinely smiled at her, and I wondered just how many times he’d visited her on his countless trips down the alley.

  God, why did I care so much? He hadn’t been mine then, so what was with the unrestrained jealousy roaring in my stomach? Why did I instantly wilt in the bombshell’s presence, feeling as inadequate next to her as I had when Dash and I had merely been friends?

  That was the answer.

  Because we’d been friends. I’d bared witness to not only the relationship he’d had with Lindsay but to the crazy amount of women who’d hit
on him, too. And could I really blame them? He looked like a ripped, green-eyed, storm-chasing Adonis. Still, I couldn’t deny the way I measured myself against the gorgeous girl before us and found myself lacking.

  “Thanks,” she said, her glare switching from me to a sweet look at Dash. “You call me if you ever . . . need anything. Okay?”

  Dash shook his head, laughing as if the situation was simply a funny run-in with an old friend. “Night, Candy.”

  Ugh, give me a break. I drained the rest of my beer.

  Hello, my name is jealous and bitter. Nice to meet you.

  I chastised myself. Dash had been cozied up to me in the shower not an hour ago, how could I let one pretty girl mess with my self-esteem? Why did I think he’d somehow snap out of the spell I’d put him under and run back to his previous ways—where he could have anyone, anywhere he wanted?

  That shoe I’d been worried about? The damned rug? That’s why. I sighed, wishing my thoughts wouldn’t stray this way when my heart knew better. Dash was too good a man. He wouldn’t do that to me.

  “Blake.” He sighed my name, and I snapped my focus to him, plastering a smile onto my face.

  “Yeah?”

  His eyes cut through my façade. “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad.” At least that was the truth. There wasn’t a piece of me that was angry with him for his past. Or even with the chick who approached us without even sparing me a glance at first. This was about me, and my own issues with my role in his life, how I felt too lucky, too happy, and it scared the hell out of me. “I promise,” I added, hoping to ease the strain on his face. “Just surprised me is all. I should’ve guessed that if John had a fling here, you most certainly would too.”

  He squinted, hissing. “That sounded so awful.”

  “I didn’t mean it to.” I shook my head, desperate for another drink. Was Candace our waitress and decided not to actually do her job tonight because she wasn’t going to get to ride the Dash Lexington train? “I was your friend long before I was your . . .” I tapped my empty bottle, eyeing the bar. “Anyway, I know all about your past. It’s fine.”

  “My girlfriend,” he said, filling in the word I wouldn’t say. Dash loved me, and I was his, but girlfriend sounded so freaking flimsy for what we were.

  “Right,” I said. “I’m not mad.”

  “You said that already.”

  “Well, I just want you to know that.”

  “Thanks,” he said, sighing as he took my empty from me. “I’ll go grab us another.”

  I watched him as he walked toward the bar, suddenly hyper-aware of all the women who stared with me as he walked. I’d never felt this level of jealous before, but I’d never been faced with the image of Dash sleeping with another woman before, either. Damn. There was no stopping it, and I knew I needed to get a lock on the feelings because we had a long trip down the alley ahead of us. One he’d made more times than I probably even realized, and that meant there could be any number of Candys just dying for him to walk through their door again.

  But this trip was different. He was with me. He loved me. And even though I was still getting used to the idea of that being my reality, I couldn’t let a little thing like an army of gorgeous women get to me—if we even ran into anymore.

  When Candace stopped him just past the bar, her hand on his forearm, I sighed. She’d met me and didn’t care who I was or what I was to him. She was still interested, still offering herself up on a perfectly polished platter—I could tell by the way she tossed that golden hair as she laughed at something he’d said.

  He eyed me from where they stood, expressing an apology I knew he didn’t need to make, but it made the tension in my chest loosen just a fraction.

  Dash was mine. We chased tornadoes together and had sex like it was going out of style. Nothing could change the love we shared. Not even wicked gorgeous beauties from his past.

  Right?

  Dash

  “THIS IS A strict non-compete, Daniel.” I tapped the revised set of forms he’d pushed across the table to me.

  Daniel sat in a chair a few spaces down from me in the hotel conference room, raising his hands in defense. “The network wants to cover their bases.”

  “Why the shift now, though?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, dreading more paperwork. We’d already signed what felt like three stacks before we started filming. “I thought this stage of the process was over.”

  He shook his head. “It’s never over. The network can update the papers whenever they want. Of course, it’s ultimately your decision if you want to sign or not.”

  “And if I don’t?” This new clause in the form of a non-compete didn’t sit well with me, leaving my gut swimming. I didn’t think anyone on my team had any aspirations to leave, but I didn’t want it to not be an option for them.

  “Then we have to reevaluate the nature of the show.” He sat up straighter in his seat. “Look, the network saw the uncut footage I sent them. Just a couple hours worth, but they loved it. They could easily see the value of your team as a whole. The loyalty, the passion each of you has, the role each one of you has is different. They simply want it to stay that way for the duration of the show. They don’t want one of your members taking an offer from a different network once the first episode airs and you all become famous.”

  I gripped the pen in my hand. When he put it like that, he had a point. They were just trying to cover their asses and make sure their investment didn’t turn on them. I cut my eyes to him. “Why do I have the final signature on this? Why not the entire team?”

  “Because you’re the leader. You’re the star, Dash.”

  “I don’t want to be a star.”

  “I know, I know. You want to bring your science to the masses. Either way, you have final say because if any one of your team members does decide to break this rule, you will have to ban them from chasing with you anytime you are chasing for the network.”

  “What?” My eyes widened. Banning any one of them from chasing with me was the most absurd thing I’d ever heard of. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I assure you the network will have no qualms about it. They break contract—the one their fearless leader has signed—and they don’t chase with him. Those are the rules.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. This is why he’d wanted to meet alone. He didn’t want it to turn into a debate and cause a rift in ranks before we’d even started. “Paul, John, and myself have been chasing together for over five years.”

  “And Ms. Caster?”

  “Is that who you’re worried about?”

  “I’ve heard her say it herself—she’d always wanted to be a meteorologist on a network, relaying weather reports. Who is to say she won’t jump at the first offer that comes her way after other networks see her on TV?”

  The pen in my hand shook. “She wouldn’t do that.” And if she wanted to do that, who was I to stop her? My eyes dropped from him to the contract and back again.

  “Want my advice?” he asked, switching his tone from serious to more laid back. “Don’t get hung up on the language. There are always ways out of contracts. But honestly, do you ever think it would be an issue in the first place? Especially in just the year it covers?”

  I tilted my head. I highly doubted any of them, including Blake, would even consider leaving the show before we’d finished filming. We were doing what we always did during storm season—chasing. Why would this one be any different? Minus the new toys and crew anyway.

  “No,” I said, positive in my team’s loyalty. And if we needed to powwow after the season was done, discussing a new course of action, then we would. I quickly signed the contract, ready to get this meeting over with and back to where I was needed.

  “Good man,” Daniel said, scooping up the contract the second the tip of the pen had lifted. “Let’s celebrate, shall we?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him, doubting his form of celebration would match up with mine in any capacity. He looked like
the type to enjoy a quiet martini after a long day at the office, while I’d much rather take Blake dancing, or simply make her scream my name in the privacy of our hotel room.

  The instance from last night flashed through my head, and my chest tightened. She hadn’t wanted to make love, and though she’d said she was just tired, I knew the real reason. It was Candy’s assault on me in the club. I hadn’t expected her to be there—honestly I hadn’t thought about her at all since the last time I’d come this way down the alley. She’d known the terms when I’d been single and chasing—knew we were nothing but casual in the off chance I passed through—but it didn’t make me feel any better about the look Blake had on her face when she’d approached us. It was like somehow she’d become defeated, even though Candy didn’t hold a candle to her. I tried to show her that, but she was acting off.

  I wanted to help her get back to the normal, blissful Blake she’d been lately. Telling her about this contract was not the way to do it, so I decided to keep it to myself as Daniel and I walked out of the room to where the others were waiting for us in the lobby. If the time came that I needed to explain it to her, then I would, but I highly doubted the need would ever come. Why bother stressing her out more than she clearly already was?

  “All good?” Paul asked, rising from the chair he’d been sitting in. Blake and John followed suit, their nerves all over their faces.

  “You know it,” I said, reaching out and smacking the hand Paul extended.

  “Nice,” he said, nodding. “Told you it was nothing.” He elbowed John in the gut.

  Blake took my hand, her touch igniting a shot of electricity through my blood. “You okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Your lab is now completed,” Daniel said before I could elaborate. “All the new computers have been updated with the most current software to help you interpret the data you collect. Plus, there are a few new toys the network sent over as well—more HD handhelds, better communication systems, and a new intercept vehicle.”