Color of Loneliness

Home > Other > Color of Loneliness > Page 26
Color of Loneliness Page 26

by Madeleine Beckett


  She shivers both from the cold and the sensations Dylan causes to blaze through her body. His hands move down to her ass, squeezing gently. He lifts her up and she wraps her legs around his waist as he turns and pushes her roughly up against the door of his truck. His mouth moves as he kisses his way underneath her jaw to her ear. He pants heavily against her skin. “Put your arms inside my coat,” he whispers in a rough voice. She does what he says; she unwraps her arms from around his neck and slips them inside, wrapping them under his arms and around his flannel-covered back. His body heat immediately warms her.

  His lips move along her neck. She can feel his tongue darting out occasionally to leave a wet, warm trail. He sucks softly, his teeth tugging gently on her skin. His mouth moves back up to her ear. “What are you doing to me?” he says in a raspy voice, his lips and breath tickling her ear.

  His hands grip her ass tighter as he grinds himself up against her, causing her to gasp. “Mm, fuck,” he moans in a deep, husky voice as he pushes his hardness against her center again. She pants as she runs her fingers up towards his shoulders and down his back under his coat, feeling his muscles flex under his shirt. His mouth finds hers again, his lips moving roughly.

  Myra frowns when they are illuminated by headlights for a moment as a vehicle pulls in front of her house. “Fucking shit,” Dylan mumbles against her mouth. He pushes off of the truck and lowers her to her feet. Turning, he stands protectively in front of her as she peers around his shoulder and hears a car door slam.

  CHAPTER 18

  CORAL, AWAKENINGS

  Dylan scowls at the police officer walking towards them. When he first turned around after getting interrupted dry-humping the hell out of Myra against his truck, he wanted to beat whoever’s ass was in that car. But now, he hopes like hell he hasn’t done anything that would get him arrested. Myra touches his hand and squeezes it. He looks down at her.

  “It’s okay,” she says with a nod before she shivers and wraps her arms around herself. He slips off his coat and carefully wraps it around her shoulders.

  “Thanks,” she whispers.

  “Hey, Myra,” the police officer says. “Sorry to interrupt. Everything going okay?” The cop suspiciously eyeballs Dylan from head to toe, focusing his gaze on his busted lip.

  “Everything’s good,” Myra says. “Porter, this is my contractor, Dylan Lawson. Dylan, this is Porter Higdon. He used to be partners with my dad.”

  Dylan remembers when she told her prick of an ex that she’d call some of her dad’s cop friends if he didn’t leave her alone. He wonders what happened to her dad or where he lives. It dawns on him that he really doesn’t know a damn thing about Myra, yet that didn’t stop him from basically dry-fucking her against his truck. That thought makes him feel like a real shithead.

  Porter reaches his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Dylan mumbles with a nod.

  “How’s the work on the house going?” Porter asks.

  “Dylan’s doing a wonderful job,” Myra says as she shyly glances up at him, giving him a soft smile. Her simple compliment makes him feel all strange and happy and shit. He can’t help but smile back at her.

  Porter nods. “That’s good to hear.”

  “Do you want to come in?” Myra asks Porter.

  “Sure, that’d be great. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to the both of you,” he says as he looks at Dylan.

  Dylan frowns because he has no fucking clue what he’d want to talk to him about. He glances down at Myra who looks up at him questioningly. He shrugs and nods.

  Once inside the house, Dylan and Porter sit down at the kitchen table as Myra pours them some coffee.

  Porter clears his throat as Myra sits down. “Lucia’s been running that mouth of hers over at the store. Word’s gotten around that Derek paid you a visit,” he says as he looks at Myra. “I saw his face. You want to tell me what happened?” Porter’s gaze shifts back and forth between Dylan and Myra.

  Myra looks at Dylan with a question in her eyes. He nods. She nods back before staring at her cup. “Derek did show up here. But Dylan took care of the situation.”

  “What did Derek do?” Porter asks Myra. “Would you be more comfortable talking about this in private?”

  Dylan starts to stand, but Myra puts her hand on his arm and shakes her head. “No. Please stay,” she says to him before she looks at Porter. “He just said some filthy things and then tried to kiss me. I was fighting him off when Dylan showed up.”

  Porter scowls. “Why didn’t you call me? You should have called me immediately. Do you want to press charges?”

  Myra shakes her head. “No. I don’t think he’ll be bothering me anymore.” She glances at Dylan, the corner of her mouth tilting upwards. Dylan feels a small smile creeping up on his face as well. He can defend Myra; he can watch out for her. And he knows without a doubt that if that motherfucker comes even close to Myra again, he’ll beat his ass to a bloody pulp.

  Porter looks at Dylan. “Next time don’t let your fists take care of the situation, let the law do it, all right?”

  Dylan nods in reply.

  “Although, I have to admit feeling a bit of satisfaction that the boy got what was coming to him. ‘Bout time,” Porter says with a smile.

  “Well, I had better get going and leave you two kids be,” Porter says as he stands. He looks at Myra. “I’ll check up on you in a few days.”

  Myra nods and gives Porter a hug.

  Porter turns to Dylan. “You take good care of this girl. She’s important.”

  Dylan doesn’t know how the hell to respond to that so he just nods. Even though he doesn’t really know her at all, for some fucking reason, he has to agree with Porter. Myra is important.

  * * *

  “I was going to heat up some leftovers. Are you hungry?”

  Dylan’s eyes light up as he gives Myra a crooked grin. “Yeah.”

  She can’t help but smile all the way to the kitchen as Dylan follows behind her. He sits down as she starts pulling containers out of the fridge.

  “So your dad was a cop?” he asks.

  She turns towards him and nods. “Yeah. He died five years ago. Some guy was robbing a convenience store, and he got shot. He was off duty. I was in college at the time.”

  “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. He was an amazing dad and a great cop. I really miss him.” She takes in a deep breath before continuing to prep some veggies.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asks.

  “No. And all of my grandparents are gone. I don’t have any family left. It’s just me.”

  Dylan frowns. “Not even an aunt or an uncle?”

  She shakes her head. “My dad was an only child, and my mom had an older sister, but she died when I was five. She was single and didn’t have any children,” she says as she sets a salad in front of him.

  He sighs heavily, staring down at the plate with his brows scrunched. “Thanks,” he mutters.

  “Is iced tea okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  She places the drinks on the table and sits across from him. They both start quietly eating their salads. “What about your family?” she asks.

  He finishes chewing his bite and takes a drink. “My parents live in Boise. I’ve got two brothers and a sister. My older brother is Chad, who’s married to Natalie – the woman you saw the other day. They have three boys and a girl on the way. They live in Boise too. Then I have an older sister, Trish, who lives with her husband in Florida. And a younger brother, Nick.”

  “Wow. You have a big family.”

  He nods. “They drive me fucking crazy most of the time,” he says with a smirk.

  Myra stares at a piece of lettuce on her plate, moving it around with her fork. “You’re very lucky you have a family,” she tells him quietly.

  Dylan clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. She looks up to see him scowling and shifting uncomfortably in his seat. �
�I always wanted to be an aunt. I…” she says then shakes her head, looking down bashfully. “Never mind.”

  “What?”

  She pauses for a moment. “I just, when I was younger, I used to dream about having nieces and nephews running around and calling me ‘Auntie Myra’. It’s silly, I know. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” she says, shaking her head.

  He coughs before rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you work?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” she says with a smile, “Well, kind of. I worked as a copy editor when I lived in Philadelphia. I’m actually writing a book right now, or at least trying to. So I’m working, just not getting paid for it yet.”

  “How did you end up working so far away if you’re from here?” Dylan asks.

  “I went there for college. It’s where I got a scholarship. I got offered a job there right after I graduated.”

  “You must be pretty smart,” he says.

  Myra just shrugs and smiles.

  “I bet your dad was proud,” he adds before taking a bite of his food.

  “He was, and Grampie too,” she says. “The car was my present. They wanted me to have something safe while I was in school.”

  “You drove that car to Philly?” Dylan asks, looking surprised. “By yourself?”

  “No, dad and Grampie drove me there, and then they flew back. I’ll never forget that trip,” she says with a huge grin. “Stopping at all the towns along the way, seeing their faces once we got to Philly. It was the bes...” Myra’s words stick in her throat. She can’t talk about it anymore. She misses them too much. Thankfully, Dylan doesn’t press her about it. They keep eating until Myra breaks the silence.

  “What about you?” she asks. “Why do you live in Nyssa and not in Boise with your family?” she asks.

  Dylan chokes and starts coughing.

  “Are you okay?” Myra asks.

  He nods as he continues coughing and takes a drink. He clears his throat roughly. “I moved here because…” He pauses and runs his hand through his hair. “Well, it has to do with shit in my past. I had to get away from everything. I don’t want to talk about this right now, all right?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “It’s all right,” he cuts her off gruffly, keeping his eyes on the table.

  Myra feels terrible that she upset him. She doesn’t know what to say so she remains quiet. Awkward silence fills the kitchen as they both continue eating their salads.

  “Are you finished?” Myra asks as she stands up.

  Dylan nods as he hands her his plate. When he shifts in his seat again, a grimace crosses his face. “Oh. How’s your back? Would you like some pain killers?” she asks.

  “Nah, I’m fine. It’s an old injury.”

  “What happened?”

  He runs his hand over his jaw. “Car accident.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugs and stares down at the table. She warms up the leftovers and sits back down. “This is damn good,” he says in between bites.

  “Thanks.”

  They eat for a few more minutes. “Have you always been a contractor?” she asks.

  “Yeah. My dad owns a contracting company in Boise. Chad and I both started working for him as soon as we got out of high school. My dad always planned for us to take over the company when he retires but...” Dylan pauses and clears his throat before he continues.

  “Well, things changed, so Chad will be taking it over by himself one of these days.”

  Myra nods but doesn’t ask more questions. She can see his discomfort.

  “Why did you move back here?” he asks.

  Myra takes in a deep breath and blows it out. “Because of Trent. My ex. We worked together and were in a relationship for a couple of years. He got a promotion and a new assistant and, well, they…” She looks up at him. His eyes narrow and his lips thin. She looks back down at her hands. “Yeah. While we were together. Then I found out she was pregnant.”

  “That fucking dick.”

  Myra smiles weakly just as a loud crashing noise comes from the living room. She shrieks and jerks in her seat.

  “What the fuck?” Dylan asks, his eyes wide.

  They both stand and stare down the hallway towards the living room. “What the hell was that?” he asks as he shoots Myra a sideways glance.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Stay here and I’ll go check.”

  “No. I’m coming with you.”

  He stares at her for a moment. “All right. But stay behind me.” With her heart beating rapidly, she follows closely behind Dylan towards the living room. She frowns when she catches sight of something on the floor next to the fireplace. Dylan picks it up and flips it over.

  “That’s weird. It must have fallen off of the mantle,” she says. “That’s my Grampie and Jim; they were great friends.” She stares down at the picture of the two men sitting on the front porch laughing together.

  “Hm.” He nods as he stares at the picture. “Do you ever think of that day when he…? When Jim…?” he asks as his eyes find hers.

  “All the time.”

  He nods, staring back down at the photo. “Me too.”

  Dylan hands Myra the picture frame, and she places it back up on the mantle.

  He clears his throat. “I think I’m gonna head home. I’m pretty damn tired.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  “Thanks for the meal. I really liked talking with you and shit,” he says before swallowing hard.

  “Me too,” she says, smiling shyly up at him.

  He steps closer and leans down towards her, moving slowly. He places a soft, tender kiss on her lips before he turns and leaves.

  * * *

  Just as Myra puts away the last of the dinner dishes, someone knocks. Her heart beats rapidly as she walks down the hallway wondering if it could be Dylan. When she peeps out the window, she sees Jackie standing on her porch, happily waving at her with a huge grin on her face.

  She groans loudly before she opens the door.

  “I made sure to wait until Dylan left before I came over. I was going to stop by earlier, but I saw his truck. I didn’t want to interrupt anything like I did last time. I definitely learned my lesson,” she says with a giggle as she steps inside and Myra closes the door behind her.

  “I saw the police car. Is everything okay? Dylan’s not in any trouble or anything is he? I mean he seems like a good guy and all, but I really don’t know him at all. And he does seem to have some anger issues. Sometimes it’s the nice guys who turn out to be the bad ones.” Her mouth flaps like the wings of a bird. “Just in case, I came prepared. I’ve got pepper spray if you need it,” she says as she holds it up for Myra to see.

  Myra wishes Porter would lock Jackie up, maybe for being a public nuisance or something. “No, I don’t need any pepper spray, and that was Porter that stopped by,” she says as she walks over to the couch.

  “Oh, okay. I just love Porter. He’s like a big grown-up teddy bear. I always want to give him a big hug.” Without any pause, she switches topics. “So are you and Dylan a couple now? Are you dating? I think you two make a really cute couple. You just look like you go together.”

  Myra sighs and rubs her temples. “No, we’re not dating.”

  “Oh,” Jackie says, frowning. “Well, what are you two doing? Why aren’t you together? What’s stopping you from dating?”

  Myra buries her face in her hands. “I don’t know,” she says and she really doesn’t. She doesn’t want to push Dylan or force him to talk, but she can sense that something in his past haunts him, keeping him from opening up to her. She just hopes that he tells her soon. Myra knows pain all too well; she’s certain that they can help each other. But she needs Dylan to come to the same conclusion.

  “Well?”

  “I’m just confused. I don’t know what’s going on with us.”

  “Well, don’t worry because I have a great feeling about you two. I kind of know t
hese things. I think it’s going to work out just fine,” Jackie says with a nod and a knowing grin on her face.

  * * *

  Dylan pulls into Myra’s driveway early again because he can’t help that shit. He smiles when he gets out of his truck and sees Myra standing inside of the already open door. His heart does some weird shit in his chest.

  “Hi,” he says, grinning.

  “Hi,” she says, smiling back at him.

  He shoves his hands into his coat pockets. “We should get the roof done today.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do you know anything about furnaces?” she asks.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I got up this morning and it was chilly in the house.”

  “I can look at it,” he says.

  He follows her downstairs to the basement. “Looks like your pilot light’s out. I just need to re-light it, and the furnace should kick back on,” he mumbles to her as he lights it.

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Standing, he turns and finds her smiling shyly at him. He just stares at her for a moment, smiling back. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen a more attractive woman. He feels a pull towards her. Giving in to it, he steps closer his gaze moving to her lips. Dylan knows how soft and sweet they are, and how good they feel against his and he wants them again. Grabbing her hand, he pulls her to him, so that their bodies touch. Her mouth gapes slightly as her breathing intensifies when he licks his lips in anticipation. His gaze moves from her lips to her eyes, questioning. She stares into his eyes for a moment before she looks at his lips and nods.

  Leaning down, he softly touches her lips with his, tenderly placing small, sweet pecks against her mouth. His hands move down to her lower back, pressing her small body against his tightly as her hands snake up around his neck and tangle in his hair, pulling and tugging gently. That shit turns him on something fierce.

 

‹ Prev