First Comes Love (New Castle Book 1)

by Lydia Michaels

  “Do you plan on seeing him again?” he calmly asked.

  She shut her eyes and thought for a minute. Her instincts told her no, but she couldn’t deny the hold her parents had over her. She came from a lifetime of manipulation. Sometimes she felt like she was nothing more than a performing poodle or circus monkey meant to put on a show. It was exhausting, but ignoring her parents’ demands only made life more difficult.

  “My mother’s a tough person to handle.” She didn’t trust her mother not to use Mia as leverage in order to get her way. Kat had always done everything in her power to protect Mia’s feelings and maintain a wholesome image of Vivian in her daughter’s eyes. “I need to keep her happy for Mia’s sake.”

  “Would they treat Mia differently if you didn’t do everything they asked?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, but Mia likes spending time with them and I don’t want her to lose that. I think she needs other family in her life.”

  He stretched and she was distracted by his overwhelming presence. Shock still rocked her that she had asked him to take her to bed. What the hell would you have done then, genius? Her brain went haywire every time he looked at her. If he touched her—done.

  Those dark eyes leveled her as he tipped his glance in her direction. “Do you like him?”

  She sighed, internally forcing herself to be honest. “He’s a nice enough person, but I can’t say that I’m attracted to him. After dinner tonight, he asked to see the inside of my cottage and I didn’t know how to tell him I was tired without seeming rude. I didn’t want it to get back to my parents that I blew him off again.”

  “Kat, when a guy asks to see the inside of your home after a date, it isn’t because he wants to know how you decorate. Women turn down guys all the time. I’m sure you wouldn’t be the first to shoot down the remarkable Dawson Price.”

  “I know.” She moaned and dropped her head into her palms. “I’m so bad at this stuff. I was hoping he’d get the hint and leave.”

  “Next time try saying no if you’re not up for company.”

  She laughed without humor, thinking of how Dawson would have kissed her—invited or not—had Tyson not interrupted their evening. She nodded. “I’ll try that next time.”

  “And if they don’t understand ‘no’ or pressure you, then they’re an asshole, and that’s when you call your big, strong neighbor over to kick his ass.”

  She giggled and smirked at him through her fingers. How could he be so calm talking about this? This man, from what she understood, wanted to be her boyfriend, yet he was giving her tips on dating other men. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He pulled her hands from her face, holding on to her fingers. “Do I want you to date other men? Hell no. But I want you to be happy. From what I know of your parents, they aren’t the most nurturing people. I’m sorry if that offends you and I can almost understand why you want to please them by dating someone they like, but if you don’t like this guy, then you need to tell your parents that and call it a day.”

  “I don’t really feel any way about him, to tell you the truth. I don’t really know him.”

  His jaw twitched. “Did he kiss you or touch you in any way that made you uncomfortable?”

  “No. He was about to kiss me when you knocked at the door. Other than that he didn’t touch me, aside from holding my hand or putting his hand on my knee on the drive home.”

  He made a derisive sound.

  She looked at her lap and mumbled, “And I’m really sorry about the wine. I asked if he wanted something to drink and he asked for wine and yours was all I had.”

  “It’s fine, but in the future, anything I bring over here is mine and if I leave it, it’s because I want you to have it, not some guy trying to work his way into your bed. I can try to be open-minded, but I draw the line at picking up your date’s bar tabs.”

  They sat quietly for a couple minutes. She silently scoffed at the idea of Dawson ever making it to her bedroom. She barely knew the guy. It wasn’t like she was an expert on the makings of Tyson Adams either, but for some reason, with him, it was different.

  She felt safe around Tyson. It was her own behavior she had to worry about. But every time they moved forward, he slowed them down, reminding her she shouldn’t go too fast. She couldn’t imagine Dawson doing that.

  Although she was jittery around Tyson, he brought about a tranquil ease in her that helped her let down her guard. With Dawson she always felt tense, as if she needed to force herself to stay alert. It was an exhausting mixture of dialogue and social navigation that was strenuous and missing the natural flow she shared with Tyson.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “How different you are from other men.”

  He nodded. “Different can be good.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, she asked, “So what happens now?”

  “Well, you’re a grown woman and I can’t tell you whom you can and can’t date, but I would like a chance to date you to at least even the playing field. I want to take you out to dinner and maybe a movie. I want to spend time with you and with Mia, and sometimes with just the two of us. I get that you’re in a tight spot with your parents and Mia. If you choose to go out with Price again, well, I can’t stop that, but at least give me a fair chance. I missed you these past few weeks.”

  Dark eyes stared into hers showing nothing but sincerity. Her chest filled with warmth, but there was still that ever-present skepticism when it came to trusting others “Why are you being so understanding?”

  “I told you. I can be a patient man, but Kat, even my patience has its limits. I won’t be taken advantage of. If you date this guy, I can deal with that, but once things get involved, you’re going to have to make a choice. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  She nodded.

  “On that same note, if our relationship moves to the next level, I expect anyone else to back off. I do not share well with others. Especially what I consider mine.”

  Her stomach dipped and filled with a delicious, woozy sensation. Casually, she scratched her arms to hide her pebbled nipples. The possessive gleam in his eye and confident tone of his voice made her a little punch drunk and dizzy. His. What would that be like? “I understand.”

  “Good.” He stood up and placed his mug in the sink. “It’s getting late.” Bending, he brushed his lips across her temple and her body sparked to life. He must have noticed, because he chuckled. “Try to get some sleep and we’ll talk more tomorrow.” He gently slid a piece of hair behind her ear. “Goodnight.”

  Every time he left, the urge to call him back grew stronger. “Goodnight.”

  The next day Kat was planting flowers out back as Tyson and Mia painted the doghouse. Mia was covered with spatters of yellow paint and every few minutes her laughter rang through the air like little bells tied to the tail of a kite. When her gaze snagged on Tyson’s he’d send her a smoldering look that made her blush from a hundred feet away.

  After all the flowers were planted, she walked over to the fence and yelled, “How about some lunch?”

  “Momma, do you see our doghouse? Do you see it?”

  “I see it, babe. You’re doing a great job. Are you hungry?”

  Tyson hollered back, “Lunch sounds great. How about fifteen minutes?”

  “Okay.” She headed into the house to fix a meal.

  Several minutes later, they came tromping into the house covered from head to toe in yellow paint, looking like they had rolled in sunshine and pollen. Mia’s old T-shirt on and cotton shorts would likely end up in the trash before the laundry.

  Tyson wore a threadbare Adams Construction shirt and a pair of jeans used for messy projects. The denim was stained with different shades of paint, dried putty, and had a tear at the knee. He looked utterly delicious so she took a moment to admire the way his muscles pressed against the thin fabric of his shirt.

  “Wash your hand
s before you sit down, Mia.”

  “’Kay, Mommy.” Mia scampered into the bathroom.

  Standing by the kitchen sink mixing a glass pitcher of pink lemonade, Kat casually breathed in Tyson’s warm, sunbaked scent while he stood next to her washing his hands. Mia sung in the bathroom, her words off beat and concise over the soft sound of running water.

  He shut off the faucet and dried his hands. The hair on the nape of her neck was lifted away as his warm lips pressed into the sensitive curve of her shoulder. Spine arching like a cat, she shivered.

  “What’s for lunch?” Mia asked from the hall as Tyson stepped away.

  Slightly off kilter, she had to think what she’d just prepared. “Turkey sandwiches and apple slices.”

  Tyson carried the pitcher of lemonade to the table and Kat pulled out three cups and filled them with ice. Mia talked, without pause, about Trixie and the doghouse. After lunch Tyson helped clear the table and do the dishes while Mia played in her room.

  “How’s your day going?” he asked.

  Her blood turned to warm melted butter. He probably didn’t realize how much she loved when he asked simple questions like that. “Good. How are you making out? Ready for a drink yet?”

  He chuckled and came up behind her as she dried the dishes at the sink. Mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “I’m good. Could be better with a kiss.”

  His breath tickled her neck and she shivered. She twisted the towel in her hands. “Tyson…”

  “One kiss.”

  She sighed. “Mia’s—”

  “In the other room playing. I can hear her singing. She’s totally engrossed in her own world. Come on, Kat. Turn around and give me a kiss. You don’t even have to use your tongue.”

  Lips parted, breath coming quick, she debated. It wasn’t easy, considering how he kept dragging his lips over the sensitive skin of her neck. He wasn’t kissing, wasn’t opening his mouth, just dragging his lips, and holy crap did it feel good.

  She turned inside the space of his arms and the counter. A half smirk pulled at his mouth and there was that adorable dimple. She looked into his eyes, but he made no move to lower his mouth to hers.

  “Ty…”

  “Yes,” he slowly answered, his voice reverberating from his chest.

  Mia continued to sing from her bedroom. The heat of his body warmed her front and she swallowed. “I can’t reach you.”

  “What if…” He slowly lowered his head. “I got…real…close…like…this.” His lips were only a breath away from hers.

  Head tipping the slightest bit, she extended her neck and pressed her lips to his. His arm snaked around her back and pulled her flush to his front. She breathed in deep. The kiss was only a meeting of lips, but it was incredibly sensual and intimate.

  With a whispered smooch she pulled away and he removed his palm from her back. His tongue briefly tasted where her kiss had touched and then he bit down on his lower lip. “Mmm. Very sweet.” He stepped back and she exhaled, totally aroused.

  “Mia,” he called, keeping his eyes on her mouth. “Come on, we got a doghouse to finish painting.”

  It was a perfect Saturday. The warm weather lofted through the opened windows sending the curtains dancing about, pouring the beauty of the day into her home. Children’s voices carried over the grass-scented breeze. Birds chirped and the hum of a lawn mower echoed in the distance. It was the symphony of springtime.

  Kat worked around her house, dusting and remaking the beds with fresh linens as she breathed in the peacefulness of the late afternoon. She was rinsing out her mop when a sound clashed with the otherwise tranquil day. The moment she recognized the noise as Mia’s cry, she went out the front door and sprinted toward Tyson who was already holding Mia in his arms and heading her way.

  At that same moment, a BMW pulled up to her curb. Her body tensed, but she kept jogging toward Mia. “What happened?”

  Tyson held onto Mia as the three of them turned back toward the cottage. “She got a splinter.” His gaze was distracted as Dawson stepped out of his car.

  “Momma!” Mia cried and reached for her. Kat took her in her arms, heedless of the wet paint covering her daughter’s hands and clothing.

  “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she soothed as they walked up to the front porch. She perched Mia on a rocking chair and investigated the splinter. It looked like the kind that hurt the moment it pierced the skin. Mia’s tender, pink flesh swelled around the shard of wood.

  Kat was mindful of Dawson standing at the curb, but found it easier to immerse herself in her daughter’s needs than acknowledge her uninvited guest.

  Once she calmed Mia’s tears, Tyson quietly said, “You have company. You want me to go?”

  Before she could answer, Mia sniffled and cried, “Don’t go, Tyson.” Dawson stepped onto the porch holding a bouquet of flowers at his hip and her daughter cowered into the rocker as she loudly whispered, “There’s a stranger here, Momma.”

  Taking a fortifying breath, she patted Mia’s knee and turned, wondering what the hell happened to her quiet afternoon. “Dawson,” she greeted, standing up with a tight smile in place.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  Kat looked down and remembered that she was in her cleaning clothes, cotton capris and an old, snug fitting T-shirt that said ‘Got Milk?’, which was now covered with smears of yellow paint. She cringed. “No, not at all. Mia got a splinter.”

  “Oh.” There was no softening in his expression toward her daughter, no attempt to offer condolences for—according to a three-year-old—the absolute devastation of getting a boo-boo. If anything, he seemed to look right through everyone but Kat. He probably wasn’t used to being around children.

  She turned, attempting to include the others in the awkward moment. “Mia, you remember Dawson. He ate at Grandma and Grandpa’s with us on Easter.”

  Mia leaned back in her chair and hid behind Kat’s butt as she scrutinized Dawson with a distrusting, shy expression.

  “Hello, Mia. It’s nice to see you again.”

  Her daughter didn’t reply.

  He looked at Kat. “I came by to apologize for leaving so abruptly last night.”

  Her eyes darted to Tyson who waited beside Mia silently watching Kat. Talk about uncomfortable.

  “These are for you,” Dawson said, holding out the bouquet of wild flowers.

  “Oh, how thoughtful. Thank you, Dawson.” The scent of tiger lilies tickled her nose as she took the flowers.

  “Can I smell?” Mia asked and she held them under her nose. She sniffed and gave a diluted smile.

  When the silence lingered, she offered a quick explanation. “I’m sorry. Mia was painting and got a splinter right before you pulled up. Let me put these in water and grab some peroxide and tweezers then I’ll be right back.” She scurried into the house like a big fat chicken.

  Pulling a vase from the cupboard, she filled it with water. When she shut off the faucet the porch was as silent as a graveyard. Dawson and Tyson were looking anywhere but at each other. Dawson appeared extremely interested in her gutters and Mia wasn’t making a peep from her spot on the rocker. She quickly stuck the flowers in the water and left them on the counter.

  Digging through the bathroom medicine cabinet, she searched for the stuff for Mia’s splinter as someone called her name.

  Shit. Dawson.

  Gathering the peroxide, tissues, a needle, and tweezers against her chest, she found him standing in the kitchen. This was obviously not what he was expecting to find when he decided to pay her a visit.

  “Look, I can see this is a bad time…”

  Her shoulders drooped in resignation. “I’m sorry. Things are kind of a mess right now. Not that things are typically calm around here. As a matter of fact, I should’ve predicted something like this would happen the moment I realized how freakishly quiet the first part of the day was.” She took a breath. He should understand. At her parents’ he said he wanted a family. This was parenthood. “That’s lif
e with a three-year-old. You sure you want all those kids?” She nervously laughed.

  “Katherine.” He smiled and took a step toward her. “It’s fine, really. I wanted to make sure we were okay and that you weren’t upset that I left last night—”

  “Oh, no, I’m totally fine,” she blurted.

  He laughed without humor as her words unintentionally told him his leaving didn’t affect her one way or the other.

  “Well,” he said. “While I’m here I may as well ask you out again. What are you doing Tuesday?”

  The front door opened and slammed shut as Mia sprinted by and ran toward the bathroom. “I gotta go pee-pee!”

  Kat winced as the bathroom door slammed. This day just kept getting better. She turned and sighed.

  Dawson was frowning and inspecting a smudge of yellow paint on his pants. Mia must have bumped him. Great, all she needed was this getting back to her mother. Not only would it emphasize—in Vivian’s mind—how much more complicated Kat’s life was, but she would also start obsessing over Mia’s untamed behavior and how she needed more discipline. If Dawson’s expression were anything to go by, he’d no doubt agree with her mother.

  “I’m sorry.” She took a step toward him, but came up short. There was nothing friendly in his tight smile.

  “It’s okay.”

  Yeah, that was convincing.

  “I can ask Tyson for something that will get it out—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” he briskly said and she got the impression he was irritated with, not just the paint, but also her and her not-so-tidy life. “Why don’t I call you later and we can talk when things are a little calmer around here.”

  “Well, that may not be until Mia’s in college.” She uncomfortably laughed then quickly she sobered. Definitely not in the mood for sarcasm.

  Ignoring her joke, he asked, “How about sometime after eight?”

  She did an odd, slow, shake, nod thing with her head. He nodded and took a step closer as if he intended to kiss her goodbye. She braced herself—

  “Momma, I pooped and I need help wiping!”

  Smothering a laugh, she hid a smirk as Dawson froze. Saved by the bell. “Sorry. I gotta go help her before she makes more of a mess.