Page 111 of Somewhere You Belong

“I was shot.” He takes my fingers and digs them into the warped skin. “Right through my ribs. Collapsed my lung, but I was lucky. There were people that were far worse off than I was that day.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” I whisper, envisioning Dallas lying in the dirt, bleeding from his side and hating every second of the image taking over my mind. “Not knowing if you’re going to live or die.”

“Situations like that never leave you, Goose. They come to me in my dreams a lot, so I never truly escape them.”

“I wasn’t sure if you dream,” I tease him. “You’re usually so still when you sleep.”

He drags down my bottom lip with his thumb. “I haven’t had those dreams since you and I have been together, actually.”

Oh God.

How much more can my heart take today?

Dallas stares at me, his dark lashes blinking every few seconds. For a moment, I just let him look, let him see me.

I don’t know if I could live without his eyes on me for the rest of my life.

“I bet your parents are so fucking proud of you, Goose.”

The mention of them startles me, especially because that was the last thing I imagined coming out of his mouth right now. “Wh—why do you say that?”

“I can just see it in your eyes when you talk about your childhood.” A tremor of sadness races through me. “That question of what your life would be like if they were still here, if days like today would have been the standard.” He runs his fingers through the ends of my hair. “And I want you to know that they’d be so proud of the woman you are.”

I hold back my tears, but the truth still spills out. “I think about them every day.”

“I get that.” Dallas stares up at the ceiling now, lying on his back again. “I think about my dad all the time too, even though I feel like I let him down at times.”

“He’s proud of you too, Dallas.”

I can’t say that with firsthand knowledge, but how could any father not be proud of this man?

“I hope so.” He strokes his hand up and down my arm as I get comfortable on his chest once more. “I hate that I didn’t get to clearsome things up with him before he passed. That regret…” He sighs. “It haunts me.”

That’s what secrets do, too.

“I understand that feeling.”

“How did you know about the anchor meaning today?” he asks, looking back down at me and changing the subject, which I’m grateful for because the mention of Mr. Sheppard just feels like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

My eyes flick back up to his. “I googled it after I saw your tattoo.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Really? Why?”

“I was curious about why someone might tattoo something like that on their body.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

I shrug, focusing back on his chest. “I don’t know. It seemed like a really personal question back then.”

“Willow, my mouth was all over your pussy within an hour of you seeing my tattoo. I think we got personal pretty quickly, babe.”

I can feel my cheeks heat up. “Okay, then why the anchor, Dallas?”

He looks down at his chest where my hand is, resting his over the top of mine. “Well, as you know, the anchor is a symbol of our town, and this place has always been my home. But mostly, it was about the symbol of stability.” He sighs. “I’ve never felt like I’ve been on stable ground most of my life—with my dad, and with my time in the service. It wasn’t until I came home permanently that I started to feel like it was time to build a life I was proud of, and I wanted that here. I was tired of drifting, not being certain about where I was going and what I wanted. So, like a ship does, I decided to drop an anchor down. I got this shortly after I bought the restaurant to commemorate that choice.”

That yearning for stability? God, do I feel thatneed too.

I smile up at him. “I love that. And do you feel like you’ve found something stable now?”

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