Desire a Donovan. A.C. Arthur

      Chapter 3

      She was on the dock looking out as the moonlight’s illumination danced along the water in sparkling ripples. He’d known she’d be right there, staring as if she were in her own little world, just like she used to.

      Tonight Dion had been ambushed with memories, and he wasn’t at all surprised. Three days ago he’d found out she was coming home, even though she hadn’t been the one to tell him. That little omission stung, he’d readily admit. They’d been thick as thieves as kids growing up, even though he was four years older than she. But the minute he’d realized she loved to ride bikes, jump wheelies and climb trees as much as he did, Lyra had been one of his best buddies. For as much as he could be best buddies with a girl. Sean, on the other hand, never had much time for dirt bikes and running races, playing football and wrestling until somebody’s face was being ground into the dirt and they had no other choice but to cry mercy. No, as kids that was fun for him and Lyra, and they’d both enjoyed it.

      Then things had changed and they’d made that one fatal mistake—or rather, he’d made that one mistake. For ten years he’d kicked himself for kissing Lyra. Now there was a part of him that was kicking himself for not doing more than kiss her.

      “So I hear you’re finally going to marry him, huh?” he asked when his own silence was threatening to give him ideas that would only get him in more trouble.

      She turned just as a slight breeze whisked past them lifting the ends of her curly hair slightly. She wore slacks and a tank top. The coral hue of the top added a vibrant tint to her burnt-orange complexion, giving her a more alluring quality than he knew she was aiming for. Gold bangles cuffed each of her wrists, matching the gold hoops at her ears. She looked so young standing there, so vulnerable.

      “Good news travels fast,” she said with a shrug.

      “It took you long enough to set a date. I thought you’d have gotten married as soon as you left with Stanford.” Saying the man’s name—even if it was only his last name—left a bitter taste in Dion’s mouth, but he did it anyway. He had to prove to himself that he could say the name of the man who would now and forever hold Lyra’s heart without screaming bloody murder and hurting someone in the process.

      She slipped her hands into her pockets and shrugged. The act made her pert breasts rise and fall, and Dion swallowed hard. She was his little sister. He’d do well to remember that. Hadn’t that been what he’d been telling himself since the day he first noticed she had said breasts in the first place?

      “I didn’t leave to marry him. We just left together.”

      Dion nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home today? The last time you emailed me you said you were looking for another job.”

      “I found one.”

      “At Infinity? If you wanted to work there all you had to do was let me know. You’ve been so hell bent on being independent, making your own way in the world, I thought I was abiding by your wishes by leaving you alone in L.A.”

      She smiled and it was like a sucker punch to his gut. It was taking an amazing amount of self-control for him not to get closer to her, to touch her, one more time.

      “Since when have you abided by anybody’s wishes but your own, Mr. Donovan?”

      “There’re a few people I’d go the extra mile for,” he answered trying to keep this reunion as light as possible.

      Dinner had been trying. She was sitting so close to him, laughing, talking with that voice that he heard in his sleep too many nights to count. Now they were standing out here in a place where they’d had so many conversations before, talking about her upcoming wedding of all things.

      “I had to come back. This is where it all began, after all,” she said, then turned to the side to look out at the water again. A boat filled with young party-goers passed by in the distance. Drinks were raised as the passengers waved like they knew Dion and Lyra personally. The waters along Key Biscayne were filled with cruise ships or yachts at all times of the day and night.

      “You met him here that last summer when you interned at a small newspaper.” It was a statement, one that had stuck in his mind since she’d told him all those years ago. “Then you left to go to L.A. with him four months later.”

      She nodded. “Then we broke up a year after that.”

      “Because he wanted more than you did,” Dion added. Lyra had called him late one night needing to talk about the breakup. It had been uncomfortable for Dion, just as thinking about her with any man was. But Lyra was his closest friend and he was hers. No way was he going to let something as small as jealousy keep him from being there for her?

      “He wanted it all, marriage, house, kids. I wasn’t ready for that.”

      “But you are now?”

      “We’ve been back together for two years now. I think I’m ready.”

      “You think?”

      She faced him again, looked up at him like she couldn’t believe he’d said that.

      “I’m getting married, Dion. Do you have a problem with that?”

      Did he? Hell yeah, he did. But it was his problem and nobody else’s. He’d wanted Lyra for so long, and yet beat himself up about wanting her that way. His mother would definitely not be pleased and the rest of his family would no doubt frown upon him looking at Lyra this way. They’d bash him for playing with her emotions, setting out to hurt her, since that’s what they assumed he did with all his female friends. They wouldn’t be happy about their seeing one another. Dion knew this, and that’s why he’d pushed her away ten years ago.

      But if nothing else, he had to be honest with himself. He had a huge problem with Lyra marrying someone else when he wanted her all to himself.

      “If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he lied as smoothly as the rays of moonlight shimmered on the water, as easily as he had said it the day he told her to leave for L.A. He lied to his best friend and miraculously found it hurt even more this time than it had before.

      “Good,” she said with a weak smile. “Mark and I are looking for an apartment, but until then your mom wants me to stay here. I’m starting work tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you at the office.”

      She started to walk away like she was going to brush right past him when Dion reached out and grasped her by the elbow.

      “I—” he started to say, then stopped.

      “What?” she prompted.

      He gritted his teeth and let the words dissipate from his mind. “I’m proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. You’re a great photographer and you’ve become a beautiful woman,” he said honestly.

      Her smile was genuine, touching her brown eyes the way he remembered it did when they’d been laughing together as teenagers. “Thanks, Dion. That means a lot to me. Good night.”

      “Good night,” he said reluctantly, letting her walk away. Again.

      * * *

      “Where