A Wedding at the Blue Moon Cafe (16 page)

She needed time to think and headed away from Marfa. A few puffy white clouds floated in the wide-open sky, the road so long it gave the illusion she hadn’t moved at all, though the engine purred and the wind brushed through her hair.

You’re not in love with him
. Of course not. It was too soon to think about any of that. Three weeks ago, Dylan Wall was a stranger, some guy who Jeff had befriended in college.

The question was: who would he turn out to be tomorrow?

***

Dylan woke up in the yurt. Disappointment settled over him as it had yesterday. He dressed and drove to the Blue Moon Café. Still closed, no sign of life. Jeff and Amy were long gone on their honeymoon.

But where’s Clarissa?
He walked around the side path to her cottage and knocked. No answer, and no sound from within. He went to the back patio and peered in the back door. Everything looked as it had when he’d left yesterday, after waiting for hours for her to return.
Shit. Why didn’t I get her cell number?

She probably didn’t have one. Her and her freaking bohemian lifestyle. Cute until moments like this.

Would it do any good to wait again? Not likely. Clarissa obviously needed some space. He couldn’t bring himself to leave town, hoping to catch sight of her. He visited a few galleries, picked up a newspaper at the bookstore. Still no Clarissa.

If she wanted to find him, she would. After one final glance up and down the street, he drove back to El Cosmico.

He checked his phone, checked his reservation for tomorrow afternoon. He’d put it off as long as he could, but now had to get back to the grind. Yeah, he loved his business. Why wouldn’t he? He’d started with nothing and sacrificed everything to build an innovative firm that attracted big-name brands. And interested buyers. He had offers at least once a year. He’d turned down the last bid, but the buyer never withdrew his offer, said he’d let it stand so Dylan could think about it. He hadn’t considered it seriously till now.

Did he still love his job? Sure, he cared about the paycheck it brought. Though lately, he worked so many long days, he hardly had time to spend it. In Marfa, time seemed a limitless commodity rather than precious and rare. After being here for only two weeks, he was different. Saw things differently. His oil spill campaign, one of his most successful, he’d held up as a source of pride. Ignored that the whole thing left kind of a sour taste, spinning the Gulf spill into something positive for the affected communities.
I don’t know if I can do it anymore
.

He laid back on the bed and stared through the flap in the yurt. Man, those stars. How could he go back to a city that snuffed them out with too many streetlights and smog? Back to a grueling routine he’d been stuck in for way too long. Those stars might’ve twinkled for a billion years, but he didn’t have that long. He’d already wasted too much of his life, at least a third of it. He couldn’t afford to waste anymore.

Much as she hated to, Clarissa opened the Blue Moon Café on Tuesday. She had no reason not to. She couldn’t hide forever. Dylan hadn’t come back yesterday, hadn’t burst into her cottage and vowed his undying love. More likely, he’d caught his flight and was already home.

She had no right to expect anything else. She hadn’t encouraged him to stay.

Out of habit, she dialed the voice-mail number and grabbed a pen and paper when the autoattendant announced two messages. Hearing her mom’s angry, “Clarissa?” made her punch the delete code. Same for the second message.

“Why can’t she leave me alone?” Bothering her at work, unbelievable. She’d send a postcard and ask her mom not to do it again.

She puttered around the room, straightening menus, condiments, cleaning tables that were already clean. Every time the front door opened, she froze. A few customers had come and gone, fewer than usual.

Midmorning, J. D. stepped in, shy as a schoolboy. “Morning.”

“Hey there. You hungry?”

“Just coffee, thanks.”

Translation: he’d slept at Vonnie’s and she’d cooked him a breakfast to sate his hearty appetite. Only one of many, the woman had her hands full. Good for her. “Coming up.”

She carried the mug over to set in front of the cowboy and glanced up when the door opened again and Dylan walked in.

J. D. pried the cup from her hand. “I got it.”

She could do nothing but stare as Dylan approached. “You’re here.”

“Yes.” He waited beside the cash register.

She wanted to walk over and touch him to be certain she wasn’t hallucinating but felt too shaky. “You’re not in Pittsburgh.”

“No.” He glanced around the room. “Can we talk?” He gestured to the kitchen.

“Okay.” She forced herself to move, push open the swinging door, and whirled to face him. “I thought you’d left.”

A brief smile crossed his mouth, and then he frowned. “Did you want me to?”

“No.”
Fuck
. She’d meant to say,
I don’t know
.

“Good. Because I didn’t want to leave. But after you disappeared, I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“So you stayed.”
Holy shit, stop talking before he realizes what an idiot you are
. She couldn’t stop trembling and hugged herself.

“I had to see you again.” He gently grasped her arms and touched his lips to hers.

Her trembling stopped. She wanted to melt into his embrace. Shuffling footsteps reminded her they weren’t alone.

Harvey jerked his thumb toward the back door. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Dylan nodded in greeting. “Hey, Harvey.”

Now she really felt like an idiot. “I’m so sorry. I freaked. I thought your flight was today, and that I’d never see you again. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, but I couldn’t bear to face you, either.”

“I hoped you’d say that.” He kissed her again. “Come with me.”

“To Pittsburgh? No way.” A city would stifle her.

He brightened. “Have you ever been to the Andy Warhol Museum?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a Warhol fan.”

“Then the Carnegie art museum. The science center. The zoo. The Mattress Factory Museum.” He waggled his eyebrows.

She couldn’t smile. Couldn’t think.
Does he mean I should move there, or visit?
She shook her head.

“Kennywood?”

An amusement park? Another shake, but smaller.

“You have to come. How else will we know it’s not just Marfa getting to me? Or wedding fever?”

“Dylan, don’t.” Was he trying to use his marketing spin on her? It wouldn’t work. She had to know what was in his heart of hearts.

He grew serious. “I don’t want to leave you, Clarissa.”

Her shoulders drooped. “You don’t know me.”

“I’m trying to.” He drew her into his embrace. “Close up early.”

For what? More sex? Much as she’d like to—no,
love
to—it wouldn’t solve a damn thing. “I can’t. It’s not fair to Harvey.”

“He won’t mind.” Dylan called, “Will you, Harvey?”

The cook opened the door and leaned in. “What?”

“You won’t mind if the café closes for the day?”

Harvey shrugged. “I’m good with whatever, man. Seize the day.”

Had he heard everything? “Are you sure, Harvey?”

He wandered around them and peered out the swinging doors. “Hey, it’s not like we’re swamped or anything. Probably costs more to stay open than to close.”

Dylan smiled. “See? Let’s walk in the desert. Go see the Mystery Lights. Maybe I could convince the manager at El Cosmico to let us take a shower under the stars. You’ll never want to shower inside again.”

Don’t laugh
. “You’re crazy.”

“I mean it. I’m going to ask my condo association to install some outdoor showers.”

She allowed a smirk. “Good luck with that.”

“Yeah, I know. Pittsburgh’s a different world.” Dylan sounded disappointed.

She had to agree. “Cold and unfriendly.”

Harvey wiped down the skillet. “Not unfriendly if you’re a Steelers fan.”

“I’m not a sports fan. Period.”

He gave a groan of agreement. “The cold part might be the deal breaker. I’d freeze my ass off in an outdoor shower ten months out of the year. Hey, I know what we should do tonight—a Star Party.”

“What?” He sure knew how to throw her a curve.

More enthused, he grabbed her hands. “Let’s go to Fort Davis. To the McDonald Observatory. Don’t tell me you’ve never been to one of their Star Parties.”

She shrugged. “I haven’t.”

“The observatory’s only a half hour away. I’ve read fantastic things about their parties.”

“The same stars shine over me every night.” Over them both, last night. It felt like they were in heaven, wrapped up in clouds, and each other.

“Yeah, but you have to try a Star Party at least once. Why do locals always ignore great stuff in their backyards? Come on, let’s go. So I don’t have to suffer the embarrassment of going alone.”

“Maybe you’ll find a girl with stars in her eyes.”
Like me
.

“Please?”

She let out a long sigh, and he smiled like he knew he had her.

She couldn’t deny it.

***

Clarissa hated to admit it, but Dylan was right. The Star Party was worth the drive. Soft red lights glowed low along the outdoor viewing area they strolled through, an amazing array of stars domed above.

Dylan pulled out his cell. “Right on time.”

An attendant approached. “Please turn that off, sir,” the guide said. “The human eye needs fifteen minutes to readjust after exposure to white light, so we don’t allow flashlights, camera flashes, or cell phones.”

Dylan hastily put it away. “Sorry.”

Clarissa chuckled. “Already causing problems.”

He grabbed her hand. “Wait till later.”

An unexpected thrill shot through her. His teasing made waiting difficult, but she said, “Okay.”

They joined a small group clustered around a guide, and Dylan pulled her to his side.

The guide invited them to view the stars through the telescope. “Careful, it’s addicting.”

The stars? Or Dylan?
No need to remind her. She already craved his touch. Only one other man had thought up ways to please her, invited her to try new things she might like. J. D. had been a mentor, a father figure.

Not so with Dylan. Even as she smiled at him, nervousness curled through her. She wanted to do the same for him. Make him happy. Good lord, she had so little practice at such things.

The two-hour program flew by. Damn, the one time she’d wanted a date to last longer, and it ended too fast.

On the stroll back to his car, he voiced her thoughts. “Wish we could stay.”

“Me, too. Wish they’d let us camp out overnight.”

He pressed her against the car. “The stars in your loft are almost as nice.”

“I agree.” Especially with him naked beside her.
A good-bye fuck? It’s his last night in Marfa
. She wouldn’t see him again. She nuzzled into him so he wouldn’t see the sudden fear that gripped her.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Fine. I just….”
Wish you wouldn’t leave
. “Wish this night wouldn’t end.”

“Hey, let’s go see if the Mystery Lights are out.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help the disappointment.

“Don’t you want to?”

“Yeah, let’s go. You haven’t seen them yet. You should see them before….” She bit her lip.

He kissed her head. “Okay then.”

Funny how the stars already seemed dimmer. On the drive to the viewing platform, the headlights projected a beam that looked tangible, an optical illusion in the extreme dark of western Texas. The trip, like the rest of the night, went quickly. Before she knew it, they’d arrived.

They climbed onto the platform. In the distance, with the Chinati Mountains as a backdrop, the Mystery Lights bobbed and floated in their mystical dance.

His smile looked triumphant. “Finally, I get to see them.” He settled his elbows on the rail beside hers. “But they kind of look like flashlights to me. Sure there’s not someone out there?”

“Maybe the Apache spirits?” she teased.

“I have to admit, they’re pretty cool.”

“Relaxing.”

“And mysterious.” He bumped shoulders with her.

“I come out here whenever I need to clear my head.”

“You’re lucky. To have something like this so close.”

She did feel lucky tonight. The evening had been a lovely surprise. And fun.
And he’s not groping me
.

He’s flying home tomorrow
. “Dylan.”

“What’s wrong?”

Everything. Nothing, except her world had turned upside down, and she could dance on those stars. All she knew was, she wanted to make the most of his last night in Texas.

She grabbed his hand and led him as far as she dared onto Mitchell Flat.

He slowed his pace. “Do you think it’s a good idea to come out here? What if we disturb the Apache spirits?”

She whirled and kissed him, the kind he wouldn’t easily forget. The kind that might just stir those spirits into a frenzy.

“Dumb question,” he said against her mouth. “Fuck the spirits.”

“No. I want you. Right now.”

He snapped out of the haze. “Clarissa.”

She silenced him with another kiss, unleashing her full passion. No speeches about how this might not be a good idea. No excuses about anything. When she lowered to the ground, he kept his lips locked on hers. His hands worked as fast as hers, unzipping zippers, pushing away jeans. She didn’t need foreplay; the whole night had been a buildup to this. She wouldn’t wait another second.

She stroked his erection, already hard, and raised her hips, teasing the head of his cock with her wetness. A soft groan, and he pushed inside. His hand at the small of her back steadied her, the stars and Mystery Lights swirling together, their mix dizzying but perfectly in rhythm, like her and Dylan.

He murmured, “So good. Clarissa. Ahh.”

She willed him to stop. Not to talk, not to say anything he’d wish later he hadn’t. Not to make any promises they both knew wouldn’t happen. When willing didn’t work, she kissed the words away. Rocked harder. Faster. He kept pace, their breaths in panting unison until the last thrust, when he held his breath, and stayed deep. She clung to him then, to the moment.