by Liz Isaacson
“I had no idea you talked to yourself so much.” He chuckled. “I’m just a light sleeper. My mom used to lecture me about it. Play the piano a half an hour after I went to bed, trying to teach me to sleep through noise and touch. She failed, obviously.” He flashed her a grin, and Hazel’s worry about what he’d heard vanished.
She hadn’t said anything she didn’t want him to know. Anything she hadn’t just revealed to him. She finished her cookie, and still they sat at the bar. He stood and stretched, the scent of his skin and his fabric softener making her light-headed.
“Well, good-night.” He started across the cabin toward his bedroom, and Hazel pressed her eyes closed. She really didn’t want this day to end without kissing him.
Then do something about it.
It was something she’d told herself after Peter had left and she hadn’t known what to do. Don’t want to be a stylist? Do something about it.
“Dylan?” She jumped to her feet and turned around, catching him just as he reached his bedroom door.
With his hand on the doorknob, he twisted. “Yeah?”
Hazel didn’t hesitate and she didn’t question what she wanted. She walked toward him, the shakes returning to her fingers. “I wanted—” She had no idea how to finish that sentence without sounding needy, or psychotic.
His eyebrows quirked as she reached him and slid both hands up his chest. She tipped up onto her toes, stopping just the right distance away for him to know what she wanted without demanding it. Plus, she wanted him to kiss her.
He hadn’t said as much, but Hazel had gotten the impression he didn’t date a whole lot. But he still knew where to put his hands to steady her—right along her waist, with gentle pressure along her back.
He still knew how to dip his head and brush his lips across hers, just for a taste. He knew how to knead her closer, growl deep in the back of his throat, and kiss her like he meant it. He knew how, and he did it all spectacularly.
Chapter Eleven
Dylan had never had a woman fit so well inside the circle of his arms. Of course, he’d hardly dated at all over the past fifteen years—and before that he’d been working a ranch and in high school.
But as he continued kissing Hazel—with her kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm—he felt like everything in the world have finally aligned itself. When he finally got the good sense to pull away, his eyes drifted open to see Hazel still with hers closed and licking her lips as if she could still taste him there.
That made his heart launch back into its rapid beat, and he kissed her again. “Will you come to the birthday party on Saturday?” he murmured when they parted again.
“Am I invited?”
“I just invited you.”
“To a one-year-old’s party, when you’re not her parent.”
“May and Kurt won’t care.” He really wanted Hazel there, and no, May and Kurt wouldn’t care. May would have enough food to feed the entire town, and she wouldn’t care if Dylan brought Hazel.
“Say you’ll come.” He grazed his lips along her jaw and down her neck. “Please?”
“Will there be cake?”
“Have you ever eaten at Sotheby’s?”
Hazel drew back a couple of inches, still holding onto his shoulders with both of her hands. “Sotheby’s? I’ve heard of it. Never eaten there.”
Dylan wasn’t all that surprised. Hazel was a simple woman in the very best of ways, and she didn’t require the ritziness of Sotheby’s. “Well, May owns that restaurant. Or she did. She made the chocolate cake there that landed them on a list of Must-Eats when in Hill Country. So yes, there will be cake.”
A smile lit up her face, and made Dylan ache to have her in his arms forever. “Then, yes, I’ll be there.”
“So I’ll text you what time the party is.” Dylan had a hard time slipping his phone into his back pocket without grinning at it first. Hazel had just typed her number into his device, and it was somehow more precious to him now than it had been five minutes ago.
“Sounds good,” she said. Her bag was already in the back of her truck, which had been moved alongside the cabin instead of in front of it. She took a hesitant step forward, glancing around. “Do we dare kiss goodbye right here in the open?”
Dylan’s heart leapt to the back of his throat, clogging it. He glanced around too, trying to get his hormones back in check. He was a grown man, for crying out loud. “I think the coast is clear,” he said. “Though, if you show up at the party tomorrow, everyone’s going to know about us anyway.”
“Well, here’s to one more day of intrigue.” She fisted the front of his shirt in her hands and stretched up to kiss him. And it suddenly didn’t matter that he was thirty-five and not fifteen. She made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t felt in years.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, settling back onto her feet and opening the driver’s door of her truck. She climbed in and Dylan lifted his hand in a friendly wave goodbye before lifting his two backpacks and the rifle and moving up the back steps.
No one was home, as he’d suspected for eleven-fifteen on a Friday morning. He hadn’t slept well out at the cabin, not that that was a new thing. The cots were uncomfortable, always biting into his shoulder blades. And with Hazel only a wall or two away, he’d spent a lot of time gazing at the dark ceiling, thinking about her.
A new level of exhaustion filled him, and he only kicked off his boots before climbing into the loft and crashing.
He woke when he heard his brother’s voices in the main cabin below. “He’s got to be back,” Shane said. Boots sounded on the ladder leading up to the loft. Dylan sat up and looked at his brother as he poked his head over the railing. “He’s here.” A smile crossed Shane’s face. “How’d it go?”
“Great,” Dylan said, maybe a little too cheerily. “I’ll come down and tell y’all about it.”
“Austin ordered pizza. He’ll have to go meet ‘em at the gate.”
Dylan followed his brother downstairs and clapped both of them in a hug. “Did you talk to Dwayne at all?” he asked while they washed up and hung up their hats, normal activities for after work.
“Yeah, we heard it was a cougar.”
“We tagged her,” Dylan said. “And a big coyote. He was in a pack of five. We think they’re both responsible for different killings, at different times.” He turned on the sink and held a big cup under it to get a drink to quench his thirst.
Shane pulled out the bread and proceeded to make himself a fried egg sandwich. “And you survived in the cabin with Hazel?” He didn’t look at Dylan, but he still heard the river of interest in the undercurrent of his brother’s question.
“It was hard at first. I’m used to doing whatever I want out there.”
“She didn’t just go along?”
“Oh, you know. She wanted to do a puzzle when I wanted to color. She accused me of trying to kill her with my cooking. That kind of thing.”
“Sounds like you hit it off,” Austin said. “Did you get her phone number?”
Dylan took too long to answer, and Shane grinned at him. “Silence means yes.” He cracked two eggs into the pan and smoke didn’t immediately lift into the air. Dylan didn’t understand how anyone could achieve such a feat.
“Yeah, all right. I got her number. I invited her to Greta’s birthday party tomorrow too.”
Shane stepped back from his eggs. “You kissed her?”
“What?” Dylan’s whole body warmed, but his brother couldn’t know that. “I said I invited her to the birthday party tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need to go check with May and make sure it’s okay.”
He spun away from Shane’s knowing gaze, his teasing smirk, and walked toward the back door.
“You wouldn’t have invited her to the party if you hadn’t kissed her,” Shane called after him.
“How do you know that?” Austin asked.
“I have a girlfriend,” Shane said matter-of-factly. “Tell ‘im, Dylan.”
Dylan
didn’t want to tell Austin—or Shane—anything. But he didn’t really see how he could keep his relationship with Hazel—new as it was—a secret. He understood now what she meant by the intrigue of their relationship.
“Yeah, all right,” he said, turning back. “We…uh—a”
“Kissed?” Shane supplied, his attention back on the pan. Why he was cooking anything escaped Dylan. Austin had ordered pizza.
“Yeah, we kissed.” Dylan didn’t like the wide-eyed stare of his younger brother or the satisfied expression on his older brother’s face, as if Shane had known all along that Dylan would go out for the week and come home with a girlfriend.
“I’m gonna go talk to May,” he grumbled. “Text me when the pizza comes. I’ll go out and meet them.” He escaped out the back door without having to endure any more ribbing and took a few deep breaths to bring his adrenaline back down.
Next door, he knocked on the back door and waited for Kurt to open it. “Hey, you’re back.” The co-foreman slapped Dylan on the back. “How’d it go out there?”
“Good, real good.” Dylan looked over his shoulder. “Can I come in for a sec? Is May home?”
“Right here,” she called from further in the house. Kurt stepped back and Dylan entered, taking Greta as May handed her to him.
“Oh, hey, baby,” he cooed at the little girl. “Did you miss me? I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Greta reached up and gripped the brim of his cowboy hat in her fist, pulling it free. He laughed, and she did too, and Dylan bounced her around in a circle.
“Are you staying for dinner?” May asked, lifting the lid on a giant pot on the stove and stirring it. The scent of tomatoes and beef and spices hit him, and he really wanted a bowl of that chili.
“No, ma’am,” Dylan said. “Austin ordered pizza.” He set Greta on the counter and kept her safe inside his arms. “It’s about the party tomorrow.”
“You’re comin’, aren’t you?” Kurt asked, nudging his wife out of the way. “This needs to simmer. You’re letting all the magic out.”
“Magic.” May scoffed as he replaced the lid and put the stirring spoon in the sink. “You think just because you won the last cookoff means your recipe is better than mine.”
“It is,” Kurt said simply. “Or it wouldn’t have won.”
May pretended to be appalled by what he’d said, but Dylan could see the love between them, feel it in the very air, and experience it when they looked at Greta or each other.
“I’m coming,” Dylan said. “And I’m wondering if I’m allowed a guest.”
That got May and Kurt to stop teasing each other and look at him. Kurt’s eyes went wide, as did May’s, and she stalked a couple of steps closer.
“A guest?”
“Specifically Hazel Brewster,” he said. “We sort of hit it off out at the cabin, and I’d like to see her again outside of work.” For some reason, it was much easier to admit to the relationship to Kurt and May than it had been to Shane and Austin.
The front door of the cabin opened and Felicity walked in, followed by Dwayne. May barely glanced at them. “Hit it off? What does that mean?”
“Hey, guys,” Kurt said. “Did you bring the cornbread?”
Felicity lifted a rectangular pan and met Dylan’s eye. “You’re back. I can’t believe you didn’t come check in with me.” She set the cornbread on the kitchen counter and stepped over to embrace him. “How was the cabin? Did the cookies last? You didn’t burn the place down, did you?”
Dylan chuckled and released her as Kurt bent his head toward Dwyane and said something too low to hear. “No fires. We ate the last of the cookies late last night. Everything’s fine. I’m sure Dwayne told you about the animals we tagged?”
“He sure did.” She exchanged a glance with May, who had stepped back over to the chili again. She still watched Dylan with a sharp look he’d seen in his mother’s eyes in the past. “What were you askin’ him? He hit it off with someone?”
“Hazel Brewster,” May said. “The wildlife woman.”
Felicity faced him again, surprise in every line of her face. “Oh. Really?”
“Why is that such a surprise to everyone?” Dylan looked from May to Felicity and back. Kurt and Dwayne didn’t seem concerned by it, and Shane had seemed to know Dylan would fall for Hazel.
“I’m not surprised,” Felicity said, her voice turning into a monotone.
“You look surprised.” Dylan frowned and lifted Greta into his arms again. “Can I take her for a while?” he asked. “I’m supposed to go meet the pizza guy at the gate. Maybe she’d like to ride in the wagon.”
“I’m sure she’d love that.” May plucked the little girl’s jacket from a peg around the corner from where she stood. She came over and started to dress Greta. “I’m not surprised by you and Hazel,” she said, keeping her voice low.
Felicity edged closer. “I’m not either, I swear.”
“Is it such a far reach to think she might be interested in me?” he asked, really wanting to know.
“Of course not,” Felicity said at the same time May said, “Not at all.”
“Then what was with the weird expressions?” he asked. “What do you know about her that I don’t?”
“I don’t know her at all,” Felicity said. “Honestly, I don’t.” She smiled up at him. “I think it’s real nice y’all got along.”
“Me too,” May said, not an ounce of anything in her gaze to say otherwise. “And of course she can come to the party tomorrow.”
Dylan nodded and balanced Greta, now in her jacket and ready for the wagon, on his hip. “What time is it at again?”
“Eleven,” she said. “We’re feeding the whole ranch, then we’ll have cake. Then we can all nap.” She put her hand on her pregnant belly, a barely-there bump reminding Dylan that she ate more and got tired faster than she usually did. “Oh, Felicity, did you bring the papers you need us to sign?”
“Dwayne’s got them.” She looked at Dylan. “You were gone this week, but we’ve decided to put in our application to adopt. We’d love a letter from you, as a character witness.”
Dylan’s heart tore a little along the edges. At least Felicity could talk about adoption now. He’d seen her run out of the room before whenever babies were discussed or brought up.
“Of course I will,” he said. “You’ll have to edit it somethin’ fierce, though. I’m not much of a writer.”
She grinned and he grabbed her in a tight hug. “I hope you get a dozen raven-haired babies just like you, Felicity.”
Her shoulders shook, and Dylan held her tight for a few extra seconds. Long enough for Dwayne to meet his eyes and come on over.
“Hey,” he said, touching her back. “You okay?”
She jumped away from Dylan and swiped at her eyes. “Oh, I’m fine.” She smiled through the tears and drew in a big breath. “Honest, I am.” She giggled and grabbed onto Dwayne, hugging him tight now. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
Dwayne brought his arms around her and nodded at Dylan. He took Greta out the front door and down the steps to the wagon. “Okay, baby,” he said to her. “It’s kind of a bumpy ride, so you stay in your seat, okay?”
He sent a quick text off to Hazel before towing Greta and the wagon down the dirt lane to the gate to collect their pizza.
Chapter Twelve
Hazel showed up at Grape Seed Ranch a half an hour early, as Dylan had asked her to. He sat on the front steps, and when he glanced up and saw her truck, he jumped to his feet, a smile filling his whole face.
He opened her door only a moment after she put the truck in park, and she giggled as he pulled her out of the cab and cradled her face in his large hands.
“How are you today?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
“Great,” she said. “I took a long nap yesterday, believe it or not.” She gave a fake yawn. “Some of us aren’t used to getting up at five a.m.” She slid her hands across his shoulders and around his neck, laughing o
utright when he picked her up and swung her around.
“I’ve seen these moves before, cowboy,” she said, a feeling of life and light entering her that she hadn’t felt since the day Peter asked her to marry him. She’d thought that was the happiest day of her life, and she’d never imagined that he’d break her heart and cause the next six years of her life to be lived inside a shell.
A shell she hadn’t even realized was there until she’d met Dylan Royal. Then he’d cracked it wide open with a brilliant whistle and terrible dance moves. And a baby in his arms. A baby whose birthday Hazel was about to celebrate with Dylan’s entire ranch family.
“I’m a little nervous,” she said. “I ate a ton of saltines slathered with butter this morning, trying to soothe myself.”
Dylan’s eyebrows went up. “Saltines and butter, huh? I’ve never had that.”
“It’s my favorite snack,” she said. “Of course, then I have to run a billion miles. Oh wait, I hate running.” She laughed. “I figure if I only eat like that every once in a while, it all balances out.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Dylan said. “What are you nervous about?”
“The party, of course. You said everyone would be there.”
“May said she was feeding the ranch, so yeah. All the ranch hands will be there. They’ll love you.”
She pulled in a breath, half expecting him to say something more personal, maybe like Just like I do. Which was ridiculous. They’d met a week ago, and just because they’d spent five full days together didn’t mean he was anywhere near loving her.
He just gazed down at her, pushing her long hair off her shoulders and leaning down to touch his lips to hers. A catcall interrupted them after two seconds, and Dylan straightened and looked toward the sound.
“Ah, so here’s Dean.” He grinned at the similarly blue-eyed, blond-haired cowboy making his way toward them.
Not quite as tall as Dylan, and definitely not as wide, Dean still had a commanding air about him. His smile was quick and his cowboy hat black as he said, “You must be Hazel.”