Dylan (17 page)

Carrying her plate to the sink, she washed it and set it in the drainer. With Dylan, she'd had no control over her instant attraction to him. She'd felt the rope slip around her shoulders as the blindfold had been ripped from her eyes. His dark and dangerous eyes had beckoned to her as he reeled her in. One kiss and her world tilted on its axis. She had been functioning on a different plane of existence since he'd laid his lips on hers, coaxing a response from her.

Tingles sparked beneath her skin and shot warmth from her heart straight to her core. He set off a conflagration that had yet to be quenched. Was she just being pigheaded, fighting against what in her heart she knew was meant to be? Should she ignore the warning light flashing in the back of her mind, cautioning her to keep her heart safe from the man who was the DelVecchio Curse walking? Or should she trust in her grandmother and Mavis's advice and turn off her mind and trust Dylan?

“I need to clear my mind… yoga and then the hot shower.” Putting her immediate plan into action, she went to her bedroom and changed into the new workout clothes she'd bought before she left New Jersey. She slipped them on and immediately felt her mood lift. The pants were pale grey with
Bootylicious
emblazoned across the backside in lipstick pink with a sports bra in the same bright shade.

Stopping in the bathroom, she grabbed a hair clip and swept her hair up and out of the way. Ready to take on the world, or at least loosen up the kinks in her neck and shoulder, she walked into the living room and bent over to pull the yoga mat out from under the sofa.

The sunshine beckoned, so she laid out her mat in her favorite spot, right beneath the window. Inhaling a deep, cleansing breath, she was ready to begin with Mountain Pose. Moving fluidly through her routine, she was limber and ready for the Downward Dog pose. Ronnie felt the beauty of her mind and body perfectly in tune as she repeated the movements.

Reaching for the long-sleeved shirt on the arm of the sofa, she pulled it on and sat on her mat in the Lotus position. Extending her arms palms up, she closed her eyes and began to meditate.

Renewed in body and spirit, she put away her mat, ready for that hot shower.

***

Standing beneath the hot spray after meditating always opened her mind. Usually, she could sort through whatever problems she had, but this morning, her thoughts kept coming back to Dylan Garahan.

His dark eyes held secrets and promises that beckoned to her whenever their gazes met. She knew what he wanted; what she didn't know was whether or not she was ready to take that dive over the edge into madness. Oh, she knew she'd enjoy the ride and probably let him share her bed for the next little while. What worried her was that he'd be satisfied with one night, and she wouldn't, leaving her in the same position she'd been in before, wanting a man who was no longer interested.

Why was she thinking about that now? Dylan wasn't her ex. He couldn't be more different. Anthony dressed in Armani suits and handmade Italian loafers, while Dylan preferred well-worn denims, boots, and black Stetson. Her mind wandered as she dipped her fingertips into her favorite body scrub. She let the almond scent wrap around her as she smoothed it on and rinsed it off, mentally shedding her insecurities. Ronnie felt revved as she turned off the shower and reached for a fluffy yellow towel.

“Female rituals are so good for the soul,” she told her reflection. “I wonder what Shannon and Lenore are up to today?”

A few minutes later, she was on the phone. “How are things over at the Mysts of Time?”

Listening to her friend, she smiled. She knew exactly what Shannon was going through, having to rebuild what she'd lost. “Did Emily recommend the same carpenter to you?” She hoped Emily hadn't; she didn't like the idea of her pretty blonde friend distracting the man who was about to become her lover. Which was the main reason she wasn't as close to Shannon as she was to Mavis—her past had taught her not to trust women friends her own age.

“Pam Dawson sent over this really great handyman,” Shannon said. “He's got the job nearly finished.”

Ronnie would have loved to have her shop back in one piece as quickly, but knew that Dylan was nearly working twenty-four/seven. She hoped he had it in him to finish the job; she'd be done if she had to put in that many hours of hard labor.

“How's it going over at your place?”

Ronnie hesitated. Should she tell Shannon everything that was going on? It had been so easy to talk to Mavis. The woman was old enough to be her mother and had been the first friend she'd made here in Pleasure. Would Shannon try to steal her man, as her ex–best friend had stolen her husband? Dylan was definitely worth stealing!

“Hey, is everything all right?”

The concern in her friend's voice helped her decide to reach out to her and share a little bit more. “Yeah. Sorry, I've been busy and what with Dylan messing with my mind—”

“Honey, I'd let that man mess with more than just my mind if I was you.”

Ronnie's heart fluttered in her breast. “That's what has my mind in a twist.”

Shannon's throaty laughter sparked her own. “I wouldn't mind getting twisted or tied up by that man.”

She couldn't agree more. “That's the rest of what has me feeling upside down and backwards. I've never met anyone like him before. He's the complete and total opposite of my ex-husband.”

“You've got an ex?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Long story, ends badly.”

Shannon was silent for a couple of minutes, then said, “Why don't I come on over and we can talk about it?”

“I don't want to talk about my ex,” Ronnie insisted.

Her friend laughed again. “Hell, I don't blame you. I want to talk about Dylan.”

This time, Ronnie's laughter bubbled up from deep inside as she made the decision to trust a woman her own age. “I'll put the coffee on. I'm waiting to hear from my insurance agent. They owe me a check.”

“Tell me something about that Texas man that'll tide me over 'til I get there.”

Smiling, she knew just the thing. “He's got this way that he looks at me, and I just know what it'll be like when he's tasting me one kiss, one lick, at a time.”

Shannon cleared her throat and Ronnie swallowed, her mind working over time. The image of Dylan's biceps bulging, as he kept his deliciously naked body from crushing hers a heartbeat before he put his one hundred and eighty pounds of torque to work satisfying the gut-burning need she had to make love with the man, set her ablaze.

Fanning herself, she wondered if she'd ever be able to quench the need she had for this man. Would one night be enough? Would one hundred?

Time would tell.

“I'll be over in a few,” Shannon said. “Oh, and I'm bringing chocolate.”

“You're my hero.”

Shannon laughed. “I bet you say that to anyone who promises you chocolate.”

Ronnie felt better already. “Busted!”

The soothing motions of sawing through a plank of wood eased some of the tension that spent the night between Dylan's shoulder blades. The rap of his nine-pound hammer driving nails into the wood beat the rest of it into submission.

Fitting the pieces back together and filling in where the slats had been totaled when he and Jesse had fallen into their mother's bench almost made up for the fact that they had blindly destroyed the precious gift.

“Grandpa would have had our hides.”

“Only if he caught us,” Tyler drawled. His brother opened the screen door and handed Dylan a steaming mug.

Dylan eyed it warily before accepting it. “Who made the coffee?”

“Jesse.”

Dylan looked over his shoulder and watched as their younger brother made his way over from the barn.

“Horses and stock've been fed,” Jesse rumbled. “You 'bout done?”

Dylan ignored his brother and blew across the surface of the coffee. “Not as good as Ronnie's.” He grinned. “And not as bad as Tyler's.”

He sidestepped Tyler's halfhearted punch, which missed him by an inch. “Your aim's off this morning.” Dylan drained his mug and set it on the porch.

Tyler grunted in response and Jesse snickered. “That's 'cause a certain redhead kept him up half the night.”

Dylan watched the grin on their older brother's face smooth into a smile. “Your turn will come, Jess.”

Instead of the argument he expected, Jesse shrugged and joined them on the porch. With his brothers flanking him, Dylan nodded. “On three, you two lift your ends of the bench, and I'll reattach it to the chain.”

When the bench was rehung, he stepped back and sighed. “I'll paint it later.”

“No,” Tyler said. “Leave it as a reminder as to why we need to pay attention to what really matters in life.”

Jesse nodded and Dylan rasped, “Family and the Circle G.”

***

“But there must be some mistake.” Ronnie couldn't believe it. “I've always paid my bills on time—”

“I'm sorry, Ms. DelVecchio, but it's totally out of my control. You should be receiving our decision in the next week or so.”

“But I need the money now… the damage to my shop and stock was devastating. I'm losing money every day my shop isn't open.”

“I would call family members and see if they can possibly help you out in the interim.”

“But—”

“Good-bye, Ms. DelVecchio.”

She stared down at her cell phone, unable to believe that her insurance company wasn't going to be sending the check as promised. How would she be able to buy more stock? How would she pay Dylan for the supplies he said he needed to put her shop's walls and shelves back together?

“Bastards!” It wasn't much, but yelling helped get it out of her system and made her feel marginally better.

“And my day started off so well with a visit from Shannon and chocolate.”

She didn't know what she was going to do. Dylan would be arriving in a little while and she needed to be able to focus and talk to him about the hold up in her funds. While she wasn't paying him for the labor, she was paying for any materials he couldn't salvage.

“And just how does that help the Garahans pay their feed bill if I can't?”

With a sigh, she resolved to take charge of what she could. Right now the only thing she had control over was herself. “I need another round of yoga if I'm going to be sane by the time he gets here.”

A few minutes later, she'd changed into her exercise gear and was reaching under the sofa for her mat. Breathing in deeply, she centered herself and spread her feet hip distance apart, consciously adjusting her body into the Mountain Pose. The familiar movements demanded her full attention, not allowing her mind to worry over the possibility of her insurance company denying her claim.

Muscles warming with the routine, she bent in half, touching the mat with the tips of her fingers.

“Your body is so beautiful.”

The deep timbre of Dylan's voice rolled over her like molasses on a warm day. The delicious image of his muscled perfection lying in her bed while she drizzled said molasses in a thin line from his neck to his knees filled her. She straightened and frowned at him. Damn him for ruining her concentration.

“The way you move, so smooth and fluid—it's like watching a ballet.”

“You've seen a ballet?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I was forced, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.”

Yet one more thing that added to her interest in the man. She sighed and gave in to need and let her eyes take a long and lazy journey across his broad shoulders, she shivered.

“Miss me?”

She swallowed to clear the tightness in her throat. “I'm not sure I should answer that question.”

He tipped his Stetson back and that's when the light hit his face and she noticed the bruise along his jawbone and his fat lip.

“Did you have an accident?”

He chuckled, but shook his head. “No, ma'am.”

“Did you walk into something?”

“You could say that.” He looked like he was about to say more, but instead, he stepped closer, reaching for her. Unsure of what he was thinking or feeling, she took a step back. “Are we back to pretending you don't want me to touch you?”

She tilted her chin up. Their gazes met and held. She knew what he wanted. The dark and desperate desire in his eyes spoke of long nights filled with loving, and she wondered if he'd be a missionary man, or one who liked to go around the world. It had been a long time since she'd spent the night making love… hell, it'd been a long time since she'd made love at all. He stopped and crossed his arms over his massive chest and waited, watching her with eyes the color of sinfully rich dark chocolate. Eyes that promised heaven… What was her problem? He was hot sex in battered jeans. An orgasm waiting to happen. Was she crazy?

Certifiable, she realized, when his impossibly dark eyes beckoned to her. The man wanted her, she wanted him… where was the problem? Oh, yeah… the lack of funds.

“I was balancing my checkbook when the insurance company called. After talking to them, I needed to clear my head, so I was doing a little yoga.” She looked up at him and sighed. “It was working until you showed up and started messing with my mind.”

His grin was lethal, but not unexpected given the opening she'd just give him. “So you can't resist me?”

“If I work hard at it, I can,” she retorted.

He frowned down at her, but before he could say anything else, she knew she had to tell him. They'd agreed to barter—his labor for her cooking—but she was supposed to pay for the materials the same as he was supposed to pay for the food she cooked for them. How could she do that if she didn't have the money?

“My insurance company just called.”

“You said that already.”

“I know but it's what we talked about that I need to tell you.”

The look in his eyes changed to one of understanding. “The check's gonna be late.”

She hesitated, needing to confide the rest of what she feared, even if it changed the direction of the relationship they'd been moving toward. The lyrics and melody of an old Eagles' tune flitted through her brain: “
You
can't hide your lyin' eyes
.” She'd been lied to and wouldn't do that to anyone—ever! “Dylan, look,” she began, “I'm not sure I'll be getting that insurance check anytime soon—or maybe at all. But I don't know because they aren't telling me.” She hesitated before adding, “I'll understand if you can't finish the job the way we agreed to until I figure out a way to come up with the money for the materials.”

Needing to do something with her hands, she bent over to grab the edge of her mat.

“Do you have to bend over like that?”

She finished rolling the mat and bent lower to shove it under the sofa before she turned around to face him. “Why? Is it a problem?”

His eyes were dark and dangerous again and her body reacted to the emotions simmering there. “Not if you don't mind me tossing you over my shoulder and dragging you off to strip you bare.”

Damned if that image didn't replace the yummy one of him drizzled with molasses. She drew in a breath and forgot to let it go until she heard Mavis's voice in her head reminding her to breathe out. Placing a hand to her chest to ease the ache there, Ronnie relished the fact that the devastatingly attractive man standing in front of her wanted her as badly as she wanted him… but was waiting for her to give him the green light.

What was she waiting for anyway? She'd already given herself the talk, already knew what was important about the man—except for his past relationships, but did she really need that information?

“What happened to thinking me doing yoga was like watching a ballet?”

He took off his hat and smacked it against his thigh. Watching as he raked a hand through his hair, she glanced up and held her breath. His frustration was there for her to see; watching him wrestling with it made it hard to remember to breathe.

“Can't think straight when you start twitching your pretty little backside in my face.”

“Really?” She liked that he was having the same trouble she was. “Well, it's hard to concentrate when you start flexing your seriously stellar muscles in my direction.”

He chuckled, setting his hat back on his head. “Seems we have a similar problem,” he rumbled. “Maybe we could help one another fix it.” Before she could respond, she was crushed against his chest and kissed senseless.

When he eased her back, but kept her in the protective circle of his arms, she licked her lips. She could still taste him. Delectable as dark chocolate, heady as a shot of her grandmother's sambuca.

“I could ease some of that tension coiling up inside of you, darlin'.”

She laughed—she hadn't meant to but couldn't seem to help herself. The man pulled emotions out of her that she'd thought long dead. Touching her fingertips to his mouth, she whispered, “I know you could, and I really want to let you, but I need to figure out how I'll survive until I get that check.”

“I could use a break,” he said. “Why don't you come on over here and sit down.” He guided her toward the sofa. “Trust me.”

Her gut settled and her heart urged her to follow. “OK, but I need—”

“To relax.” He sat down and pulled her onto his lap and held her to his heart. The rhythmic beat did what the extra half hour of working out hadn't: soothed the craziness tying her up in knots.

“Dylan, I want—”

“Me to kiss you.” His lips were warm and soothing as he pressed them to her forehead, cheek, and chin.

She giggled. “That wasn't what I was going to say.”

He cupped her face in his big hands and smoothed a wavy strand of hair behind her ear. “Ronnie, you worry me.”

“I do?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I'm finding I want more from you than I'd first thought. I still want to get you naked, and know that making love with you will be memorable, but I'm wanting to take my time to get to know what's going on inside that clever brain of yours too.”

“Uh… I—wow, I'm so glad.”

Laugh lines formed at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. “So long as I know I'll be getting you in bed soon, I can wait. But for the moment, I need you to let me hold you.”

Had God been listening when she'd said that particular prayer? Going with her instincts, she laid her head against his chest and let go of her worries one by one. Her body relaxed fully against him as she closed her eyes.

Dylan's arms tightened around her as he settled her in the crook of his arm. The kiss to the top of her head eased the rest of her worries; his sigh of contentment touched her on a level no man had touched yet. The hell with the curse—if she didn't mess things up, this man was the one she wanted to grow old with.

***

She jerked awake and smacked her head on something hard.

“Ow!”

“I'm so sorry,” she soothed realizing that she'd managed to hit his bruised chin.

He was shaking his head at her. “Must have dozed off.” Staring at her, he brushed his hand across her shoulder and settled it against the small of her back admitting, “I didn't sleep much last night.”

“I didn't either.” How much had she missed by following her head rather than her heart the first time? Hell, those days were over. She was grabbing life with both hands and living it fully from this moment on. “How much time do we have?”

He grinned. “Not as much as I'll need the first time I make love to you, if that's what you're asking.”

Disappointment eased contentment aside. Resignation filled her. “I really do need to get back to the world of high finance.”

He pulled her closer and shifted on the sofa, rasping, “Wrap your legs around me, darlin'.”

Eager to comply, she did as he asked and was rewarded when he cupped his hands beneath her backside and pulled her close. The heat of him seared right through his jeans and her yoga pants. She whimpered, but his mouth claimed hers and her thoughts splintered apart as his lips and hands worked their magic. As she reached for the buttons of his shirt, he was easing her off of his lap. She shivered at the loss of heat.

“Ronnie, I've got some more to finish up, and I don't want you to get mad at me for distracting you when your checkbook's waiting for you. How about we agree to take a break in about an hour or so. We could accomplish a lot in an hour.”

She agreed. “Thanks for understanding what I needed. Even I didn't.”

His gaze locked with hers. “My pleasure.” The roughness of his reply went right to her heart.

A few minutes later, she was back in front of her laptop, ready to pull her hair out as the reality of her situation hit her hard. “How am I going to pay my credit card bill if I have no stock to sell? How am I going to buy more stock to sell if I don't pay my credit card bill?”