9
H
e didn’t mean it. Dylan would never hurt a woman. “That isn’t possible. You’re
nothing
like your father.”
“Yeah, I am,” he said softly, disgust evident in his voice. “I hate it, but I am.”
“You’ve never hit a woman, have you?”
“No, but I came close.”
Talia blinked, unable to comprehend or believe what Dylan said. “What?”
Dylan rose again, took several steps away from the couch. “I was involved with someone three years ago when I lived in Fort Worth. Patricia. She was sweet and kind, but a little flighty and forgetful. She’d be late every time she was supposed to meet me. One night, I made a special dinner for us and she was almost an hour late.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I kept getting her voice mail when I called her cell, which wasn’t unusual since she often forgot to turn on her phone. Every time I called and didn’t get her, I tossed back another shot of whiskey. Just like my old man.”
Talia saw his body shudder in distaste. She started to rise and go to him, but he threw out a hand to stop her.
“Let me finish. I have to get everything out.”
She folded her hands in her lap and remained on the couch.
“She was full of apologies when she got there, as usual. She’d gone shopping with girlfriends, lost track of time. She laughed it off like it was no big deal that she’d put her cell on vibrate and dropped it in her purse. I was livid. I asked her what if there had been an emergency and no one could reach her? She gave me that no-big-deal look and continued to chatter about the good time she’d had with her girlfriends.”
He stared across the room, apparently thinking about whatever had happened in his past. “I lost it. Between worrying about her and the shots I’d drunk, I lost it. I yelled at her about her forgetfulness and selfishness and a bunch of other things. She stared at me, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. No apology, no saying she’d try to do better. She just stared at me. That’s when I . . .” He ran one hand over his pale face. “I grabbed her by the front of her blouse and drew my fist back to hit her.” Dylan looked at her with tears in his eyes. “Just like my dad did to my mom.”
Talia couldn’t sit still any longer. She had to touch him, to comfort him. He backed away from her when she tried to wrap her arms around him.
“No! I don’t deserve your sympathy.”
“Dylan, you didn’t hit her. You stopped, right?”
He nodded. The torment in his eyes broke her heart. “I caught myself in time. I told her I was sorry and to go home. She couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I gave notice at my job the next day, packed up my stuff, and moved to Lanville. I needed a fresh start.” He backed up two steps, stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “That’s the last time I drank whiskey. I’ll drink a beer now and then, but I haven’t drank hard liquor since that day.”
“So you
aren’t
like your father. Don’t you see that?” She moved closer to him, laid her hands on his chest. “You stopped the cycle before it could consume you.”
“But I can’t know that for sure. That’s why I haven’t gotten involved with another woman. I’ve dated now and then, but I couldn’t take the chance on falling for someone in fear of hurting her.” His gaze passed over her face. “I didn’t plan on falling in love with you, Talia, but I couldn’t help it. You’re so caring and sweet and beautiful. I would rather jab a knife into my gut than hurt you.”
“I believe you, and I also believe you would never hurt me.” She grabbed his hands, held them tightly when he tried to jerk them away from hers. “I’ve known you for two years. I’ve been with you in a lot of situations when you could’ve lost your temper. You never did. You don’t have the anger festering inside you like your father did. You’re nothing like him.”
He shook his head fiercely. “I can’t take the chance. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
He hurried out the front door before Talia could grab his arm and stop him. She ran outside to see him striding toward his pickup. “Dylan! Come back.”
Tears fell down her cheeks as she watched him speed away in his truck. She could call his cell, beg him to come back, but she knew he wouldn’t. Whatever demons chased him, he wouldn’t let her help him fight them.
She walked back into the house and curled up in a corner of the couch. She didn’t believe in giving up when something mattered to her, and Dylan definitely mattered to her. She’d waited two years to have him in her life. No matter what happened in his past, she knew him to be a caring and loving man.
The department had practice fires Tuesday night at two old buildings on the same property in the country. A plan began to brew in her mind of a way to prove to Dylan she knew he would never hurt her. It might take a little trickery, but she’d use that if necessary to show him they belonged together.
Talia enlisted the help of Clay and Quade in her plan to get back together with Dylan. She couldn’t tell them exactly what she planned since things depended on how Dylan reacted, but she asked them to go along with her. They both agreed.
Fifteen of the volunteer firefighters showed up for the practice fire. Talia worried that Dylan might decide not to come. Relief flooded through her when she saw him with Stephen and Nick as the three men donned their turnout pants and coats.
Two teams would fight the fires. Talia made arrangements with Clay to be on the same team as Dylan. Now she simply had to wait for the opportunity to make Dylan argue with her. Everything depended on him becoming boiling mad at her.
The opportunity arose when Dylan had his turn holding the fire hose. Talia used a pickax alongside Quade to tear away the burning wood of the old barn. Knowing she would get knocked on her ass, she purposely stepped in front of the hose so the streaming water hit her square in the back.
She stood several feet away from the hose’s nozzle, but the force of the water still sent her sprawling to the ground. Quade immediately took her arm to help her stand. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Is Dylan coming?”
“On his way.”
“Shit, Talia, what are you doing?” Dylan yelled as he grabbed her other arm.
Time for my Academy Award performance.
“What am
I
doing?” She jerked her arm away from Dylan. “Why don’t you watch where you aim the hose?”
“You stepped right in front of the stream.”
“Oh, sure, blame me for your mistake. It won’t be the first time you’ve done that.”
Confusion mixed with the concern on Dylan’s face. “What the
hell
are you talking about?”
“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Clay asked. He stepped next to Talia, Dylan, and Quade.
“Dylan’s being a jerk.” She answered Clay’s question, yet kept her gaze fixed on Dylan’s face.
“I’m doing
what?
”
The fire of anger flashed in his eyes. That’s exactly what Talia wanted. She took the few steps necessary to be right in front of him. She punctuated her next words with jabs into his chest with her finger. “You heard me. You’re being a jerk. You made a mistake and you’re blaming it on me. Again.”
“I didn’t make the mistake,
you
did. And I’ve never blamed you for
anything
.”
“Oh, no? What about the schedule mix-up last month? You didn’t show for your shift to cover the phones and you blamed me.”
“You offered to switch shifts with me!
You’re
the one who didn’t show up.”
“Look, guys,” Quade said, “I’m sure—”
“Stay out of this, Quade,” Talia said, frowning at him. She hoped Quade remembered this was an act and she wasn’t really angry at him. In her peripheral vision, she saw the rest of the firefighters creeping closer. “Maybe hitting me with the water was your way of getting back at me for that ‘supposed’ mix-up.”
Dylan’s scowl would’ve made anyone cringe. Not Talia. She wouldn’t give up now. She couldn’t.
“You’re being stupid.”
“Don’t call me stupid!”
“I didn’t call you stupid! I said you’re
being
stupid. I would never purposely hit you with the water!”
“Why should I believe that when the proof is running down the back of my coat?” She glanced at his hands to see them clenched into fists. She gestured to them. “What’s with the fists? You gonna hit me, Dylan?”
“
No!
I would
never
hit you! I would never hurt you for any reason. I love you!”
Her love for him expanded her heart until she wondered how her chest could hold it. She gently cradled his cheek in her palm. “I know you do. And I love you.”
All traces of anger faded from Dylan’s face. Comprehension flared in his eyes. “You fought with me on purpose,” he said in a voice low enough that she could hear, but the other firefighters surrounding them couldn’t.
Talia nodded. “I wanted to prove to you that you wouldn’t hurt me, no matter what.”
Dylan took her hand from his cheek, kissed her palm. His eyes looked suspiciously moist. Not wanting him to appear less than macho in front of the other guys, she smiled at her friends. “I heard a rumor there will be Bunkhouse barbecue with all the fixin’s at Clay’s house after we get through here.”
A cheer went up from the firefighters. They headed back to their posts to finish the exercise.
“Kiss her and then get back to work, Westfield,” Clay said with a grin.
Dylan waited until Clay and Quade walked away before he spoke. “You want to go to Clay’s after we’re through here?”
The teasing glimmer in his eyes told her he didn’t care one bit about going to Clay and Maysen’s house. “Well, barbecue does sound really good.”
“I could pick some up for us and meet you at your house. We can have a private picnic.”
“With or without clothes?”
He flashed her a wolfish grin. “I’ve never had a naked picnic. Sounds like fun.”
“Yes, it does.” Talia rose on her tiptoes, gave him a soft kiss. “See you later.”
Dylan watched Talia lift her pickax and return to work. Love flowed through him, filling every molecule, every atom. She’d put on a performance to make him angry and prove to him that he wouldn’t hit her. She’d definitely made him angry, enough to see red swim before his eyes. He’d clenched his fists, but the thought of actually hitting her had never entered his mind.
He didn’t think he’d ever been as happy as at this moment.
Yet he knew he could lose that happiness if he didn’t get help to cope with his past. He looked around for Quade, finding him at the ladder truck with a clipboard in his hands. Quade glanced up as Dylan approached and grinned broadly.
“Everything okay with you and Talia?”
“Yeah. Were you a part of her little act?”
He nodded. “She asked Clay and me to go along with whatever she did.”
“She’s amazing.”
“And you love her.”
“And I love her,” he said with what had to be a sappy smile. The smile faded from Dylan’s lips as he tried to form the right words to ask Quade for his help. “Uh, I wondered if maybe you and I could talk sometime about . . . stuff.”
Dylan thought he saw pride flash in Quade’s eyes. “Sure. Why don’t you call me tomorrow and we’ll set up a time to get together?”
“Okay. Thanks, man.”
“That’s a wrap,” Clay called out. “Eats and drinks at my place after we get everything back to the fire hall.”
Dylan turned to find Talia walking toward him. “I didn’t know you were an actress.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Desperate times called for desperate measures.”
He met her halfway, bent her over his arm. He ignored the cheers and wolf whistles from the other firefighters as he kissed her long and passionately.
She wobbled a bit when he let her stand again, which did a lot for his ego. “Not that I’m complaining about a kiss, but what was that for?”
“Thank you for believing in me and trusting me. I don’t know how I lucked out to have a woman as special as you fall in love with me.”
She smiled. “That works both ways. I’m lucky to have you fall in love with me.”
“Yeah, you are.”
He laughed when she playfully punched his upper arm. Then he sobered, cradled her face in his hands, and kissed her tenderly. “I’m going to talk to Quade about my dad. Maybe he can help me sort out some things.”
Love and delight shone in her eyes. “I’m sure he can. I’m proud of you for taking that step.”
“I don’t want to do anything to mess up what we have.”
“You won’t.”
Looking into her pretty green eyes, he believed her. They could conquer anything, as long as they worked together.
He slung one arm around her shoulders. “I’m in the mood for a naked picnic. How about you?”
She wrapped her arm around his waist. “Works for me.”