“I’m happy to hear that.”
“I’m glad we had this opportunity to talk,” she said, really meaning it.
“I am too.”
She sensed his relief and gloried briefly that she could set his mind at ease, no matter how short-lived that might be.
They both watched the rain pound against the window. With each passing minute, Kinsley became more and more aware of how extremely attractive Dylan was. He exuded masculinity. It didn’t help that they were sitting close enough for his thigh to be pressed against hers or that the smell of his after-shave was tantalizing or that with his jacket off she couldn’t help but notice how his broad shoulders strained the fabric of his shirt. Every single woman in Camille must want to date him. When he caught her looking at him again, she quickly directed her gaze back to the window, but not fast enough to prevent her cheeks from heating up.
“Something is exhilarating about a storm, as long as you’re not stuck out in it. We were lucky we made it in here when we did,” he said.
“I certainly agree.”
“I’ve always had a fascination with storms. Their unpredictability is such an adrenaline boost. I often thought if I hadn’t become a wildlife biologist, I would’ve been a storm chaser.”
“I guess you like an adventure.” Something brushed against her foot, and a second later a little gray furry creature scurried across the floor. Kinsley let out a shriek as she jumped up, nearly landing in Dylan’s lap, but his strong arms held her steady. “Did you see that?” Her voice was higher pitched than usual.
“See what, the mouse?”
“Yes! You need to find it.”
Dylan chuckled. “And do what with it?”
Nice that he found this amusing. “I don’t know. Put it outside.”
“In the storm?”
She gave him a glassy stare. “I know you love animals, but it’s a mouse, and I really don’t want to share this shack with it.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “It’s not going to hurt you. It’s more afraid of you than you are of it.”
Her gaze raked over the floor, searching for any movement. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Don’t you have mice in the city? Some are much bigger than this poor little critter. I think they’re called rats.” He snickered.
She sat back down. “Even the mention of them makes me shudder, and just because they’re in the city, doesn’t mean they’re in my loft. It’s mouse and rat free as well as anything else that moves that hasn’t been invited in by me.”
Dylan’s chuckle had turned into full-blown laughter.
“I’m glad you think this is funny.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of you jumping off the stool. It really was quite hilarious,” he said.
“I didn’t realize you were the type of person who got a kick out of someone else’s fear. That’s really not a very attractive trait.”
“No one’s perfect,” he quipped.
“Listen! Did you hear that?” She cast her gaze over to a pile of cardboard boxes stacked in a corner across the room. “I heard something rustling. Ooooh, I sure hope there aren’t more of them.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Well, I’m sure I did,” she said sourly.
“You should be happy the mouse is over there and not near you.”
Apparently, he was unable to understand her nervousness. She tapped her foot on the floor. “But what if it doesn’t stay over there?”
“Then we’ll deal with the mouse if it’s brave enough to come out of hiding, but I have to say I think you did a pretty good job of scaring it away.”
Since he wasn’t going to do anything to rescue her from the mouse or mice that were in here, she needed to try to take her attention off of them, so she concentrated on the rain that pummeled the roof. If only the storm would pass soon, so she could go home. Dylan must’ve been thinking the same thing because he went over to the window and looked out.
“I’m glad the roof hasn’t leaked. That’s all we’d need,” Kinsley said.
He looked briefly at her from over his shoulder. “Would that have been worse than the mouse?”
She thought about that for a moment. Before she answered, the mouse ran out from around the stack of boxes, looked at her and then bolted back from where it had come. “Oh, my gosh! I just saw the mouse again.”
“Where?”
She pointed across the room. “By the boxes.”
“At least it didn’t come over and try to bite you.”
“Stop! I think it wanted to. It looked right at me.”
His eyes twinkled. “And then what happened?”
“It ran back behind the boxes,” she answered quickly.
“So it’s gone now?”
She sighed heavily. “No. You need to go over there and find it.”
“To do what with it?”
“I don’t care. Put it in a box until the storm’s over, and then you can let it go anywhere you’d like. Just not near me,” she said loudly, rapidly losing her patience.
“It’s really bothering you that much?” His tone was more serious now.
“Yes. Isn’t it obvious?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease you like that. A lot of women are afraid of mice. Although, I can’t understand why. There are a lot of creepy crawly things that are worth being frightened of.”
“That’s not much of an apology. Especially, when you’re making me wonder if some of those things might be in here too.” She pressed her lips tightly together.
“I’d hate to go camping with you,” he remarked walking over to the boxes.
“I don’t camp unless you call pitching a tent on the balcony of a hotel room camping?”
Dylan chuckled as he picked up one group of boxes. Nothing there. However, when he moved the second stack, the mouse ran out.
“There it is,” Kinsley yelled. “Over to your right.”
When Dylan went to turn, he bumped his head on a shelf. A pile of baskets perched on the edge fell off, with one landing on his head like a straw hat.
Kinsley laughed so hard her sides hurt.
“Where’d the mouse go?” Dylan asked, taking the basket off to rub his head.
“I think it’s gone. Looked like it ran into a hole somewhere between the floor and the wall.”
“Happy now?” he asked.
“I wish I could’ve taken a picture of that,” she remarked, coming over to stand beside him. “Are you okay?” A lump had formed at the top of his forehead near his hairline.
“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing a little ice won’t help.”
“Let me see.” She reached up to feel it.
“Careful,” he advised but didn’t try to stop her.
Very gently she ran her fingers over his injury. As she touched his head, she noticed how soft his hair was. It wasn’t stiff or sticky, full of the gels or sprays most men applied to their hair. “At least you’re not bleeding,” she said as she took her hand away.
“That’s a good thing, and the mouse is gone, so no more worries.” His cobalt-like eyes met hers, and his gaze was as soft as a caress, causing her heart to turn over in response.
“Listen? I think the rain is letting up.” Kinsley went to the window to find the sky had indeed cleared and to her surprise, the sun was out. To the left, she spotted a lovely arc of colors. She motioned to Dylan. “Come have a look.” When he was next to her, she asked, “Do you see the rainbow?”
He moved closer to her. “Where? I don’t see it.”
“Here,” she replied leaning against him to point at it.
“I still don’t see it.”
“You don’t?” When she turned her head to look at him, he was so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin. With his mouth just inches from hers, she couldn’t help but wonder what his kiss would feel like.
He must’ve been thinking the same thing because suddenly his firm lip
s were on hers. The very air around her seemed electrified. His mouth did not become softer as he kissed her. Instead, he crushed her to him and kissed her harder. She was shocked at her eager response to him. Her senses reeled as if short-circuited.
His arms encircled her, one hand in the small of her back, molding her curves to the contours of his lean body.
What in the world was she doing? Getting involved with Dylan was the last thing she needed. It was bound to go nowhere and only complicate matters. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake,” she said, backing out of his arms.
His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion. “You’re right it was. It won’t happen again.” His caustic tone made her flush in shame.
Kinsley took his jacket off her shoulders and handed it to him, then she went over to the counter to get the pictures he’d given her that she’d set down there earlier.
The walk back to his house was a long and silent one, as was the ride home. It wasn’t until she was about to get out of the car that Dylan spoke. “Will you be able to find Center Street Cemetery?”
Cora was being buried there in the morning. Kinsley had assumed she’d be going with Dylan. Obviously, that wasn’t the case now. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Paul should be over to work on the kitchen. Just let him know what you want him to do.” Dylan drove away before she even entered the house.
There was no doubt that his ego was bruised, but Kinsley hadn’t expected such an extreme reaction from him. He had to realize they were far from right for each other, didn’t he?
There was one thing she was sure of, though. The burial tomorrow was bound to be extremely awkward.
* * *
Kinsley felt drained, hollow, lifeless. The day had begun with her feeling that way and was ending with it too. All she wanted was to take a long, hot bath, and then climb into bed. Before starting the water, she found two nails in Aunt Cora’s roll-top desk and used them to hang the pictures Dylan had given her on the wall next to the four-poster. He was right to suggest she keep them here. They belonged in the Victorian. Cora would’ve thought so too.
While Kinsley unwound in the claw-foot soaker, memories of her aunt filled her mind, but when she sank down into the water, pressing her back against the tub, she closed her eyes and thought of Dylan’s kiss. She never should’ve let it happen, and she most definitely should’ve ended it right away, instead of letting it deepen into…well, a kiss like none other. If she’d been attracted to him before, that only intensified it. Exactly why she had to tell him it was a mistake. If there were a way a relationship with him could work, she would’ve willingly let the kiss continue, but the last thing she needed was to complicate her life any further. Dylan seemed like a really nice guy—smart, compassionate, witty—not to mention extremely good-looking and a fabulous kisser too. But she wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend. Certainly not one who lived out in the sticks, managing the sanctuary she recently inherited. Talk about messing up her life. That would be a huge mistake. Yet while her head was telling her one thing, her heartfelt differently. It wasn’t often a man like Dylan walked into her life, and it may not ever happen again.
Later, after Kinsley had finished with her bath and was lying in bed, her mind returned to its tortured thinking. She’d drift into wisps of sleep and then wake up. What she needed to do was to keep the vow she’d made with her No Brides Club girlfriends front and center in her mind whenever she was with Dylan. It would be difficult, but it should help keep any romantic feelings away. Equally hard would be finding the right words to mend things with him.
Chapter 10
The graveside service was for immediate family and close friends only. Dylan was glad it wasn’t open to the public. Yesterday had been very tiring, and the last thing he wanted to do today was to spend hours socializing.
As he waited for the service to begin, he glanced over at Kinsley, who was standing beside Robert Sykes. If he could take back the incident with her yesterday in the shack, he would. Her rejection of him had been beyond humiliating. He should’ve known better than to kiss her, but with her luscious full lips so close to him and her hair smelling like ginger and honey, he’d temporarily lost his mind. Now he had to deal with the consequences, and that meant staying clear of her until his ego mended. Unfortunately, he had no idea how long that might be. He just hoped his stupidity hadn’t cost him the sanctuary. If she put it on the market because of what he’d done, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
Besides, she had been right. It was a mistake. One kiss could lead to another and then who knew where else it could go, and that would’ve been disastrous. They weren’t right for each other. That was obvious.
When her gaze shifted in his direction, he quickly looked away from her. Luckily, Pastor Mitchell began to pray, taking Dylan’s mind off Kinsley. But it went back to her after the casket was lowered into the ground. She looked as tired as he felt, a good indication that she hadn’t slept well last night. He waited until she was in her car before he left the gravesite.
At home, he flopped onto the couch and spent the afternoon watching TV with his dogs cuddled up against him.
He didn’t see Kinsley at all over the next few days, making sure to stay far away from her house, but on Wednesday he nearly ran into her while on his way to the wolf enclosure. He was able to avoid her, though, by ducking into a storage shed. However, when she showed up at his house that evening, he had nowhere to hide.
“I feel awful about what’s happened between us,” she said as soon as she came inside. “I could’ve expressed myself in a much better way instead of being a jerk and offending you.”
“I have to disagree.”
“You do?” She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze straight on.
His eyes scanned her face, lingering on her lips. “You could’ve been a little more tactful than to say my kiss was a mistake, but that doesn’t mean you’re a jerk.”
The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth. “Thanks. That makes me feel better.”
“I’m glad, because you coming here, makes me feel better.”
“So does that mean we’re friends again?” she asked with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.
“Absolutely, and to prove it, you have to stay and have a glass of wine with me.”
She looked at him strangely. “Wine?”
“What’s wrong? Did you think I only drank beer?”
She shrugged sheepishly.
“I’m not a total Neanderthal, you know.”
Kinsley chuckled and then grew serious. “I never thought that. You’re far from it.”
He stared at her, unable to figure her out. “Red or white,” he asked, going into the kitchen.
“White. Red gives me a headache.”
“White it is then.” He poured them each a glass of a snappy sauvignon.
“Where are your dogs?” she asked before taking a sip.
“They’re out back getting some exercise. They’ve been cooped up too much lately,” he said, leading the way into the living room.
Her forehead wrinkled with worry. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because of all the time you spent on my house while I was in the city,” she replied as she sat down on the couch.
“Okay. Maybe a little bit your fault, but it was something I wanted to do, so we’re both equally to blame.”
“Just like with the kiss.” She chewed her bottom lip.
“Did I hear you correctly? Are you saying you’re partially to blame for that?”
Her face creased into a sudden smile. “I’m saying I didn’t dislike it.”
“That makes two of us.” Dylan had just sat down beside her when the dogs began to bark. “Must be a squirrel. They drive Benny nuts. It comes with being a beagle. And of course, when one starts, the other two have to follow.” But there was something about their high pitched tones that made him go over to the sliding glass door. His heart
nearly froze. A large coyote was at the edge of the woods, looking at Benny as if he wanted to have the beagle for dinner.
Dylan opened the door and yelled, “Get out of here.” But the animal didn’t budge.
“What’s going on?” Kinsley asked as she came over to him.
“There’s a coyote out there. We need to scare him away before my dogs get hurt.” A second later, the animal took a step forward. It was unusual for a coyote to be so bold. This one had to be pretty hungry. As Dylan bolted into the backyard, he yelled to Kinsley, “There’s a rifle in my bedroom. Go get it, and then fire into the air.”
When he got to Benny, the coyote was only a couple of feet away. Madison and Sunny were a little farther back, but not much. “Go on, get,” he said firmly. The center of the coyote’s yellow eyes glowed red as he curled his lip and snarled.
All Dylan could think about was saving his dog, so although he knew better, he bent down to grab the beagle. The coyote lunged, but so did Madison. However, in the lab’s attempt to protect Dylan, the dog’s tooth grazed his arm. “Shoot now, Kinsley!” he yelled as chaos erupted around him. He didn’t know if she knew anything about guns, so he added, “Aim up at the sky, and then pull the trigger.”
A second later, two shots went off, sending the coyote running into the woods. Dylan hugged the beagle against his chest. Both he and the dog were trembling. There was blood and fur everywhere, and it took him a moment to realize that the blood wasn’t only coming from his arm, but from Madison’s neck and Sunny’s side.
“Are you okay?” Kinsley cried, running over to him. Her gaze scanned the blood coming from his arm. “Did the coyote bite you?” She still had the gun in her hands.
“Careful with that,” he advised as they walked back to the house. Although he noticed she was handling the rifle properly with the barrel pointed up and not at him. “I’ll be fine. Madison got me by mistake when he was trying to protect me. I’ve had worse bites. It was my two guard dogs that tangled with the coyote.”
No Time for Love: No Brides Club, Book 1 Page 6