The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise #1)

His soft lips came to mine, pressing deep before he said, “Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

And hold on I did. It only took about fifteen seconds for him to drive around the building to my car, but I clung to his hand as though he were the only thing keeping me from floating away. I tried not to dash out as soon as he got the car in park, but I suspected I failed, considering I was already in the passenger’s seat of my car before Porter had cut the ignition on his truck.

I was silently cursing myself for being such a basket case when he climbed inside and slid the driver’s seat all the way back to accommodate his long legs.

Embarrassment assaulted me. “I’m really sorry. I…”

I trailed off when my ass was suddenly up off the leather. My hip bounced off the steering wheel and my legs got tangled on the gearshift, but he didn’t stop jostling me until he had my ass in his lap.

“Thirty minutes,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I drive an extra thirty minutes every day to get to work just so I don’t have to go over that bridge again.”

My heart soared, and I lifted my eyes to his.

“I’m amending our deal, Charlotte. No questions. No judgment. No faking it.” He kissed me and then finished with, “No apologies.”

My face got all scrunchy in that hideous way that happens when you’re fighting tears back. “You’re such an amazing guy.”

He grinned. “Does that mean you don’t think I’m a serial killer anymore?”

“Not a serial killer, but you proposed grand theft auto, so I’m thinking a life of crime is still a high possibility.”

His grin stretched, and he shifted me back into my seat, ordering, “Buckle up, Buttercup.”

I followed his directions, and as he pulled out of the parking lot, it was me who was reaching to hold his hand.





* * *





My mouth fell open as he turned down the long, oak-lined driveway, a huge, white, old-South plantation house appearing on the horizon. It had gorgeous top and bottom wraparound porches that made my mouth water and a brick horseshoe driveway that all but required you to fill it with guests.

“Is this your house?” I breathed, sitting forward in my seat so I could peer up at the extraordinary weeping willows on either side of the house.

He chuckled, lifted my hand to his mouth, and kissed my knuckles. “Sorry to disappoint, but no.”

“Then where are we?”

He grinned, releasing my hand to turn my car off. “Somewhere.”

“Any chance I’m going to get arrested for being here?” I asked, opening my car door.

On the drive over, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. During those same fifteen minutes, Porter and I hadn’t talked much. He’d stolen glances at me out of the corner of his eye, a smile pulling at his lips each time. And I’d clung to his hand, lamenting the moment I had to let it go.

“A small one.”

“Fantastic,” I deadpanned.

He walked over and hooked an arm around my shoulders, pulling my front into his side. Then he kissed the top of my head. “Relax. It’s my brother’s house. We aren’t going to get arrested, but we are absolutely going to break in.” He released me and took my hand, dragging me after him.

I jogged to keep up as he trotted up the front steps. The house was dark, but the front porch light came on when we reached the front door, scaring the shit out of me.

Porter laughed as he dug into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. “Chill. He’s not home. If he were, this whole place would be lit up like Times Square. I swear the man is incapable of turning a light off.” He slid a single loose key out and then passed his wallet my way. “Hold this.”

I nodded, and as I took the well-worn, brown bifold from his hands, a thought hit me.

The lock clicked, and he stealthily pushed the door open only to stop and stare at me without entering. “Did you take money out of my wallet?”

“Yeah,” I answered curtly, shoving a handful of twenty-dollar bills into my back pocket before returning his wallet.

He blinked. “You low on cash?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

He blinked again, his lips beginning to twitch. “So is there a reason you’re robbing me?”

“Oh, I’m not robbing you,” I said, peering into the semi-open door and glancing around the dark foyer. “I’m taking back what you owe me.”

“What I owe you?” he repeated, incredulous.

I had a feeling the house was equally as gorgeous on the inside as it was the outside. I couldn’t see much but a stone entryway butted up against dark hardwood floors. The ceilings were high, and I could barely make out a breathtaking split staircase that would have made Scarlett O’Hara froth at the mouth.

Pushing the door wide, completely forgetting I was trespassing, I stepped inside.

“I’m sorry. How exactly do I owe you money?” Porter asked behind me.

“For the upgraded security system,” I replied absently, staring at the massive crystal chandelier above us.

His hand hit the small of my back as he got in my space and forced my gaze to his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he whispered, humor dancing in his eyes.

“After you came barreling into my office a few weeks ago, Greg and Rita insisted we put a lock on the door up front. Now, the receptionist has to buzz you through to the back. It was well over a grand to install, so consider this your down payment.”

He barked a laugh and placed his hands on my ass. One slipped into my back pocket, where I felt him retrieve the money. “You forget, sweetheart, you came barreling into my office tonight. And, while I will never in a million years put a security system on my door to keep you out, I’m gonna need that cash to pay to soundproof my office.” He nipped my bottom lip.

I kissed him and then mumbled, “Who says I’m coming back?”

His handsome face softened. “I hope like hell you don’t ever come to me the way you did tonight. But, if you do, I’ll always be there. Door open. Light switch poised. Darkness waiting.”

My stomach fluttered and something in the back of my throat prickled. I didn’t respond, but I tipped my head back and kissed the underside of his jaw, praying that it somehow conveyed how grateful I was for what he had just given me.

“Come on. I want to show you something.” He took my hand, pure Porter, and led me through the dark house, moonlight serving as our only guide to a porch complete with a pair of white rocking chairs and a hammock tied in the corner.

He moved to the swaying ropes and sat before gathering me in his arms and pulling me down on top of him. I went willingly, resting my head on his chest and relishing in his warmth as he wrapped his arms around me.

He pointed over the balcony railing. “There’s a pond back there.”