Chapter Six
The next morning, while standing in the guest bathroom located at the front of the house, Darcy heard Dylan’s truck entering Tom’s driveway. Her heart leaped and she quickly applied another coat of lip gross and fluffed her hair to make her waves seem fuller. Then she raced through the bedroom, grabbing the new sage-colored parka, lavender scarf and gloves she’d bought last night while shopping with Tom, and snatched up her new boots.
She tip-toed down the stairs as not to wake Tom. Upon returning home from their shopping spree, he’d learned there was an equipment problem at the Grist Mill and had to check on things. She’d heard him come in around two a.m. The walls of the house were thin, so she had lain in bed and listened to the shower running before falling back to sleep around two-thirty. He would wake soon, but she didn’t want her first date with Dylan to start off with Tom grinning over them.
Well, it really wasn’t a date, she mused while slipping into her boots. She was just going to help out a friend of a friend.
She opened the front door.
Dylan’s knuckles were poised to knock.
“Good morning.” The sight of him sent her heart thumping madly against her rib cage and a smile bloomed on her lips.
“Hi.” His gaze drifted down to her feet and then snapped up to meet her eyes. “Nice boots.”
She maneuvered her right foot with her toe to the floor, showing off the oversized faux bearskin boots that were guaranteed by the manufacturer and the sales clerk to keep her toes warm even in sub-zero temperatures. “Thanks. Tom and I went shopping last night somewhere off the mountain. I have no clue where. East or west. All I know is we drove downhill on this winding road for nearly thirty minutes.” Why she was being so chatty was beyond her, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Dylan just stood there, smiling at her and looking too delicious for this early morning hour. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’m glad Tom went with me and I didn’t drive myself. Coming back, the road we took was really dark. There aren’t a whole lot of road signs on this mountain either, except for moose crossings emblems and directional arrows to the ski lodge. Have you ever seen a moose? Of course you have. You live in Black Moose. You had to. I’d love to see one. Oh, I bought a new coat too.” She unfolded and held up the down-feathered coat up for him to see.
“That will certainly keep you warmer than your leather coat.”
Amber flecks brightened his rich mocha eyes and caught the morning light, reflecting her happiness back at her. Her fingers curled into the soft material as she fought the desire to throw her arms around the mountain man’s neck and kiss him good—like he’d kissed her yesterday.
“You better put it on,” he said, breaking her thoughts. “It’s cold out here.” He pushed his gloved hands into his coat pockets.
Until that very second, she hadn’t felt the low temperature. Heat flared to her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Did you want to come in? Tom’s still sleeping. I think he had a problem at the restaurant. He didn’t return until really late.”
“No.” He raised a hand, waving her off. “I don’t want to wake him. Are you ready?”
“Sure. Just let me grab my purse and note pad.” She turned, whipping into her coat, and flung her scarf around her neck. Two seconds later, she stepped outside into the frigid morning air and allowed Dylan to pull the door closed behind her.
“Note pad?” He looked down at quizzically.
She draped her purse strap over her shoulder and stuffed the notebook into it. She wouldn’t tell him she spent at least an hour viewing the Home Channel online for holiday decorating ideas. “Yeah, I jotted down some thoughts on how we might use the things you bought yesterday. Of course, whether they’ll work will depend on your brother and sister-in-law’s house. Are you sure they’re not going to mind me helping you?”
“No. I think they’ll be grateful.”
Feeling a little more at ease, Darcy relaxed her shoulders.
The sun glistened off the snow. She dug her sunglasses out from her purse and slipped them on.
When Dylan placed his hand on the small of her back as she rounded the front bumper of the SUV, a slow burn jumped to life in her core. Their gloved hands met reaching for the door handle. “Sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, and meeting his gaze, felt a flurry in her stomach.
“Here, let me get it for you.” His leaned forward, bringing his body heat closer. Lust washed through her and caused her to shiver.
“Cold. I’ll crank the heater up,” he said, closing the door.
“This is nuts,” Darcy mumbled under breath as she watched Dylan cross in front of the truck. She shouldn’t feel this attracted to the guy. Doing something about it would be a huge mistake.
Once they were settled into the truck, he started the engine and backed out onto the lane. Shifting it into gear, he flashed an uneasy smile in her direction and she wondered if he was having second thoughts about spending the day together, alone. A few moments later, some hundred yards away beyond the Grist Mill, he braked and the truck rolled to a stop.
The truck engine’s purr played background to the soft rock song coming from the radio.
She glanced around the seat and out the back window at the road behind them. There wasn’t car in sight but from what she’d seen while staying at Tom’s the road was traveled. “Don’t you think we should get off the road?” she asked, even though snow was plowed high alongside of them, leaving only a couple feet of shoulder. “We’re like ducks in a washtub sitting here.”
Dylan gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.
There was definitely something on his mind and she beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. “Is something wrong?”
“They’ll go around us.” He slammed the gearshift into park and turned to her. The part of his brow that his bangs didn’t cover was pulled tight. “I need to say something that has been working on me all night. Kissing you yesterday... I shouldn’t have done that.”
There was no doubt in her mind the kiss had been unbelievable awesome, but what if Dylan didn’t agree? Maybe the attraction he felt for her had faded with the kiss. She hadn’t had much practice lately. What if he was having second thoughts about spending the day with her because he was no longer feeling it? He did just open the door and wait for her to climb inside instead of seizing the moment and kiss her again. She whipped off her sunglasses. “Didn’t you like kissing me?”
“Oh, yeah.” His gaze lowered to her lips and his fingers curled on his lap, letting her know he was holding his desires in check. His eyes snapped up. “And that’s the problem. I really like you.”
She smiled, feeling happiness skipping along her nerves. “I like you too.”
“I know. And that adds to the problem.”
Her own brow knitted together. “Dylan, I’m getting confused here. You don’t want me to like you?”
“No. Yes. I mean there is some powerful pull between us. I think you feel it and I know damn well I feel it. The problem is…” He disconnected his seat belt and shifted on his seat to face her. “I’m not a one-night kind of a guy. Sounds corny, I know, but I’m not. Maybe a few years ago I was, but not now. In a year, I’ll turn thirty. Lately, I’ve been thinking about my future. I’d really like to settle down with someone, like Tom has with Allison.”
“Whoa.” She held up gloved hand holding her sunglasses. “I’m not looking to settle down with anyone right now. Especially on top of this frozen peak. I’d go bonkers living here. This parka is nice, but I’d rather toss on a sweater. Besides, I have my business. I’ve worked too hard too—”
He grabbed her free hand, stopping her rant. “I’m not asking you to marry me.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not?”
“No.”
It was silly she’d thought he was asking her to marry him, after all, they’d known the other existed barely thirty-six hours. But she’d heard of love stories where
two people met and in under twenty-four hours were married. And they lived long, happy lives together. She leaned back against the seat and her coat’s material swooshed as she gathered her arms over her chest. “Then what is going on?”
Dylan’s tongue ran across his lips. “I get the feeling you’re just like me. You’re not the ‘love-them-one-night-and-leave-them-in-the-morning, with a phone number for a deli on Main Street’ kind of woman.”
“True.” She relaxed her arms, realizing where he was headed with the conversation. “So you’re thinking we need to keep things friendly.”
“Yes. If I kiss you again, I’m afraid we wouldn’t stop with a kiss or two.” It was his turn to blush. “I don’t want either one of us to get hurt. And I also don’t want Tom pissed at either of us. We’re going to see each other again when Tom and Allison get married. You know he’s going to ask her, right?”
She nodded, feeling a bit jealous of her friend. In a few years, he had established a successful business, made great friends, remodeled a beautiful home, and found love. He had the solid foundation for a happy life.
“I’d rather we were friends and had a great time celebrating with them, and not spend time avoiding each other at the occasion. With that said, if you don’t want to help me today, I completely understand. I’ll take you back to Tom’s. No hard feelings, but I can’t—”
She smiled. He was right. She wasn’t a woman to throw caution to the wind and just have a good time without thinking about the consequences. Having an affair with Dylan wouldn’t do either of them any good. She was only going to be here for a week or so before she had to go back to South Carolina, to her world and her business. If nothing developed in the relationship, other than some really hot sexual encounters—yes, there was no doubt in her mind sex with Dylan would be scorching— how would she feel later, when she came to visit Tom again and ran into Dylan? And what if this mountain man found someone else and got married? And had some kids of his own? How would she look his wife and children in the eye without feeling regret?
The word slipped right in there like a sucker punch to the gut. She would regret not being the one to share his life. She mentally picked up an eraser and scrubbed the thought from her mental board. It was best not to go there in the first place.
“You’re sweet man. You know that? And you just made me like you even more. But I agree. We’re not what the other needs in a long-term relationship.” She stuck out her hand. “So friends it is.”
Dylan blew out a breath and returned her smile. “I wasn’t sure how you would take what I had to say.” He shook her hand. “Friends.”
“Now, let’s go.” She pointed toward the road. “We’re losing precious time. Your nieces will get home before we’re done decorating.”
Five minutes later they pulled up to Dylan’s brother’s home. A wide porch anchored the entire front of the two-story home. Crystal-dappled snow draped in soft swoops across the rooftops and bowed the miniature evergreens planted in the buried landscape. The view reminded her of Christmas card, without the decorations. Well, there were some decorations. A fake pine wreath that had seen better days and a few strings of lights draped from the porch railings in a haphazard fashion. Dylan really did need help. “Nice place.”
“I’ll tell Bob and Elizabeth you said so.”
“You’re going to tell them about me?”
“If I don’t, I’m sure the girls are going to babble all about you.”
“You’re going to introduce me to the girls?”
“Sure.” The door moaned as he pushed it open. He rounded the truck and took her hand as she stepped from the floorboard. “Watch your step. The sun hits here late in the afternoon, so it tends to melt and refreeze, making it a bit slippery. I spread ashes, but you still need to be careful.”
Darcy kept a hand on the truck as they rounded to the back end. Dylan unlocked the hatch and opened it. He’d hidden the decorations there. Choosing her footing carefully, she followed him up the sidewalk and onto the front porch. Once inside, they sat the packages on the sofa.
Already feeling the warmth of the home, she unwound the scarf from her neck and removed her gloves. Her zipper sang as she slowly slid it open. “This is a lovely home. I love the fireplace. I think those tiny snowflakes will look perfect sprinkled among greens.”
Dylan threw his coat over a chair and then snapped his fingers. “I forgot about the greens. It’ll only take me a few minutes to cut some.”
“Back home, we just run to the corner vendor,” Darcy said, stuffing her gloves and scarf into a coat arm and hanging the parka over the wing of the same chair.
“Well, here, we cross the yard.” He chuckled while rubbing his hands together.
They stood feet apart.
Both suddenly felt the draw Dylan had spoken about rise between them.
Remembering their agreement to remain friends, they broke their gazes at the same time.
Dylan clapped his hands together. “Let’s go up to the attic and see what we can find and that you might want to use. Then while you get started unpacking everything, I’ll go cut the greens.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Darcy responded and followed him out of the room and up the stairs. She couldn’t help but admire the way his jeans fit. It was okay to look as long as she didn’t touch.
As he hurried past the bedrooms, Dylan chattered about how his sister-in-law and brother had pretty much gutted the whole house and remodeled the place one room at a time.
Darcy’s steps slowed, admiring the hominess of every room. One day, maybe she’d have a home like this and a family whose pictures she’d display in every room, including the hallway, just as Elizabeth Kincaid had done.
Three hours later, Christmas carols floated through every room by way of the surround-sound system Bob had installed during his remodel of the place. Darcy had said the music would give her inspiration. She was right. The house was coming together better than he had imagined.
Feeling a weight lifting from his shoulders, Dylan whistled a holiday tune. He strolled into the living, carrying a tray of sandwiches and mugs of warm cider. “Wow. This looks amazing.” He turned and pointed to the fresh evergreen garland adorned with red ribbons and tiny glistening snowflakes draping the banister. “And the foyer, the girls’ eyes are going to pop out when they see this.”
Darcy stood up from the floor where she had been sitting cross leg on the area rug, testing the outdoor lights and replacing bulbs. She put her hands on her hips and admired the room. “Thanks.”
“You sure you didn’t also graduate from interior design school?”
“Nope.” She crossed to the fireplace where the small blaze he’d built earlier crackled in the hearth and repositioned a snowflake into the greens swathing the mantle. “But my mother did. My aunt says I take after Mom in many ways, some not so good.”
“That so. Like how?” He sat the tray down on the coffee table, careful not to bump the arrangement of pine cones and Christmas balls she made using an old vase she found in the attic, and handed her a warm mug.
“Thanks.” She blew across the top and stared into the dancing flames. “Like Mom, I have trouble believing in myself. That is why I try so hard. I want everything I do to be perfect.”
She blinked and her cheeks turned crimson probably realizing she had spoken the words aloud.
“Well, if you want my opinion, throw that anchor away because from what I’ve seen you’re all right.”
“Just all right?” Her small chuckle made him smile.
“Okay. Perfect.”
“Stop.” She dropped her gaze to the floor and swiped a stand of hair behind her ear.
“Here have something to eat.” He sat on the couch and offered her a plate. “I hope you like egg salad. It’s the girls’ favorite, so I keep a dozen hard-boiled eggs on hand always.”
“Thanks. I am hungry. I didn’t take time for breakfast this morning.” She settled back onto the floor, tucking her legs underneath her.<
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He couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was. Some man was going to be very lucky one day.
That thought made his stomach collapse like a mule had just kicked him. He pushed away the image of some faceless guy taking Darcy into his arms before the figment tasted her sweet lips. He swallowed the cider like a stiff drink and spit it out.
“It’s hot,” Darcy said.
Wiggling his tongue in his mouth caused her to laugh which lightened his mood. She was with him now. And if they were friends…
He watched her take a bite of her sandwich. When she licked a morsel of egg from her finger, a jolt went right to his groin. He quickly looked at his own plate and asked the first thing that popped into his head, “So tell me. If you don’t mind me asking, do you know what caused the fire at your restaurant?”
Her face paled and he immediately regretted asking her the question. Women handled things differently. She obviously was very hurt and taking the event personally. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“No. It’s okay.” She dropped the uneaten portion of her sandwich onto the plate and pushed it away. She wiped her mouth with the paper napkin before saying, “The primary investigation shows it started in the kitchen around the grill area. I think my fry man forgot to turn the fryer off. It wasn’t his fault though.”
“If it was his job to do so, why wouldn’t you think it’s his fault?”
“Ultimately it was mine. I normally check everything before I leave for the night, but I was so upset with myself that night, I just didn’t.”
“Why were you upset?” Dylan sat his mug down, feeling she needed to talk to someone about the tragic event.
“I’ve been trying for months to get this hot-shot food critic to visit Sweet Grass, hoping if I could, he’d give the restaurant a five-star rating. Like I said before, I wanted to be perfect. Anyway, he came in that night, unannounced. And, well, things didn’t go as well as I had hoped.”
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