When Snow Falls (Whiskey Creek #2)(43)
Author: Brenda Novak

“No, nothing.” She was lying on her back, still trying to catch her breath, and so was he. The last thing she wanted to think about was what he’d just helped her forget.

He drew a deep breath; she heard him exhale. “There’s something different about you tonight.”

“I was upset. That’s all.”

“I could tell. About what?”

The physical outlet he’d made possible had siphoned off the worst of it. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Is it your mother?”

She laid her head on his chest so she could listen to his heart. It was still beating faster than normal. She’d been more aggressive tonight, demanded more intensity and stamina than before, which he’d wordlessly provided. “Do we have to talk about it?”

His fingers slipped through her hair. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“I just…just let me feel you, okay?” She kissed his chest. “That’s all.”

“I’m right here.”

Solid. Warm. Responsive. She couldn’t complain about how Dylan made love. She couldn’t imagine anyone doing it better. He touched her with just the right amount of confidence and familiarity, was especially sensitive to the give-and-take that made it mutually rewarding and was willing to bestow pleasure even in nonsexual ways. Tenderness seemed to come more naturally to him than she’d ever dreamed it would. Besides all that, she liked the smell of him, the sound of his voice, the fact that he could make her feel so darn content.

“Where did you park?” he asked.

“In front.”

“Why didn’t you pull behind the barn?”

“Because I can’t stay. Presley’s at work.”

“I should’ve come to your house.”

“No, I needed to get out.”

“But…can you do that? I mean…with your mom the way she is?”

“It should be okay if I’m not gone too long.”

He let her lie on him for several more minutes. Then, when she got up, he did, too. She assumed he was going to use the bathroom, but he dug something out of the pocket of his jeans and held it out to her.

It was too dark to see clearly. They hadn’t turned on any lights. “What’s this?” she whispered.

“A key.” He put it in her hand. “That way you can come over whenever you want.”

She shook her head and gave it back. “No, sorry. I can’t accept that.”

He stood there, watching her. He seemed completely unconcerned with his own nudity, but then, he didn’t have any reason to be self-conscious. She’d just left Dylan’s bed and already she wanted to touch him again, to climb back under the covers and go to sleep with him instead of returning to the reality of her own life.

“Why not?” he asked.

She’d offended him. She could hear the hurt pride in his voice. “I’m not the type to—to keep doing this,” she explained.

“Doing what?”

“Running off in the middle of the night to have sex with—” she tried to come up an ending to that statement that wouldn’t be unkind “—with some guy I’ve never even gone out with.”

“We could fix that,” he said. “I could take you to dinner.”

She thought of all the people who might see them together, and how quickly the news would spread. This was Dylan. Everyone would assume she was sleeping with him—and they’d be right.

She wasn’t ready to deal with the backlash that would cause, not when there was already so much going on in her life. Every person she knew—except maybe Presley, who’d finally feel vindicated—would tell her she was a fool to get involved with a man like this. He’d cheat on her, break her heart, offer none of the safety and security she’d been searching for her whole life.

Her friends, when they returned, would think she’d lost her mind.

“It’s hard for me to find time for…for dating with my mother so sick.”

He said nothing. No doubt he’d read her response for the excuse it was. So she added a weak, “But…I’ll call you if I get the chance.”

No response. She’d been getting dressed as they spoke. He just watched her pull on her sweater and shoes and didn’t try to stop her when she hurried past him without so much as a goodbye kiss.

* * *

He was done with her, Dylan decided. It was stupid to let Cheyenne keep coming over. He couldn’t believe he’d actually been willing to give her a key to his house!

He’d always been too impetuous. But his heart was a difficult thing to subdue. And besides that, he wasn’t sure how much of her behavior to ascribe to the hell she was enduring. He kept thinking she just needed more time to sort out her thoughts and feelings, to get to know him and realize he could give her everything Joe could.

Even if she never came to regard him that highly, she’d have to recognize the spark between them, wouldn’t she? He’d never experienced this sort of chemistry with anyone else. When they made love, it was like…

He didn’t even know how to describe it.

She sensed the same thing he did. He could feel her shake when she touched him, hear her sigh and gasp. Mechanical sex wasn’t like that. He’d had enough experience to tell the difference, but she hadn’t. Maybe she thought making love was like this with any partner. He’d told her that other guys could give her the same thrill—but only because he wanted her to choose him for more reason than that.

“Dylan, what are you doing in the flower section?”

Blinking, he shifted his attention from the roses he’d been contemplating to Mack, who’d gone to pick up some hamburger. He’d said he’d get the buns and a few deli items and that they’d meet up at the register, but then he’d noticed the small flower section.

He’d never paused here before. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it now. Maybe he wanted to buy Cheyenne flowers but he wouldn’t be foolish enough to do it. She didn’t want that kind of thing from him; she wanted it from Joe.

“Nothing.” Embarrassed by the impulse, he turned away.

His little brother was looking at him like he’d gone crazy. “Where’re the buns?”

Dylan rubbed his face. “I’m on my way.”

“You’re not yourself these days,” Mack complained. “What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked as they headed to the deli section together.