Shielding You (Baytown Boys Book 13)

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Shielding You (Baytown Boys Book 13) Page 10

by Maryann Jordan


  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, Chief.” Leaning forward, he’d whispered, “Honestly, Hannah, you really stink.”

  Growling, she’d left Bobby in charge and walked back to her vehicle, rolling down all the windows so it could air out.

  Now, out of the shower, she dressed in comfortable clothes before moving to the washing machine where she’d stripped out of her clothes earlier. Dumping them in with the detergent, she started the washing cycle.

  Disappointment filled her at having to spend her hour after the game the way she had instead of going to the pub to celebrate the victory and enjoy time with friends. Leaning her hip against her kitchen counter, she knew there was one friend she’d been looking forward to spending time with. I finally flirt, and now I don’t even know what he thought about it. Sighing heavily, she threw open her refrigerator door, staring inside to see what might look appealing, grumpy that it wasn’t a huge pub burger with fries.

  A knock sounded on her door, and she tossed a package of deli meat back into the refrigerator. Not expecting anyone, she peeked through her security hole. Seeing the side of Dylan’s head as he looked toward her porch swing, she jerked her head back. She hurriedly opened the door and cocked her head to the side. “Dylan? Is everything okay?” Just as the words left her mouth, the grilled beef scent emanating from the bag he held in his hands hit her. Her gaze dropped from his lopsided grin to the bag and then back up. Eyes wide, she asked, “Is that what I think it is?”

  “I heard you got called away, and Ginny said you missed your pub burger. In all honesty, they were so busy it was taking a long time to get served and this is one that I ordered. But if you’re hungry, I’m more than happy to split it with you.”

  “Is this the renegotiation of our wager?”

  Shaking his head slowly from side to side, his eyes never left hers. “Nah. This is just two friends sharing a burger. The renegotiation involves the loser—which is me—buying the winner—which is you—dinner at a nice restaurant.”

  They stood silent for a moment, their gazes holding, unspoken words, and longing mixed with uncertainty and curiosity moving between them.

  He chuckled and jiggled the bag in his hand. “Hannah, you’re truly leaving me holding the bag.”

  Dropping her chin, she laughed. “Bad pun, but you’re right. Come on in.” She stepped back and allowed him to cross the threshold, aware that this was the first time he’d been inside her home. The last time, we sat on the porch. Not having expected company, her gaze shifted around the room quickly, both pleased that she kept it neat and yet wondering what he thought of her decor.

  He handed the bag to her, then turned slowly, taking in the space before his eyes came back to her, a twinkle in their depths. “Wow, Hannah. This is amazing.”

  Suddenly self-conscious, she shrugged. “I know it’s not what most people expect from me.”

  “I think it’s perfect.”

  Once again they stood, an easy silence moving between them. Seeing sincerity on his face, she nodded. “I’ll get plates.” She led the way into her small kitchen where a two-seater table sat next to a window. As she grabbed the plates and pulled the massive pub burger from the bag, she noted he settled onto one of the two stools at the counter bar nearby. She cut the large hamburger in half, placing the sections on the plates and dividing the fries. Opening her refrigerator, she grabbed two beers and set them on the counter as well.

  Walking around the counter, she hesitated, seeing how much room he took. Knowing they would have been sitting farther apart if he’d gone to the table, she nonetheless slid onto the stool next to him, aware that his leg was now pressing against hers.

  He reached his hands out, encircling the half burger, and lifted it to his mouth. Turning, he grinned at her, wiggled his eyebrows, and said, “Eat up.”

  Taking a large bite, she closed her eyes as the grilled beef, fresh lettuce and tomato, cheese, and whatever special condiment the Pub put on their burger hit her taste buds. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast this morning, and now, by midafternoon she was starving. Moaning while chewing, she finally swallowed and said, “This is amazing.” Not hearing a response from Dylan, she turned to see him staring at her, his eyes not moving as they focused on her lips. Grabbing a napkin, she wiped her mouth, but he simply shook his head, shifted on his stool, and turned back to his meal.

  Soon, the plates were empty, and she felt guilty that he had given her half of his lunch. She climbed off the stool and pulled a pie plate from the refrigerator, jerking back the plastic wrap. “Mrs. Harker brought a chocolate pie into the station a couple of days ago. It’s really good, but there’s no way I can finish it.” She left it on the counter and cocked her head to the side, staring at him.

  Laughing, he asked, “Was there a question in there somewhere that I’m supposed to answer?”

  “Sorry, I guess I was waiting to see if you wanted any. I don’t want to force you to eat chocolate pie if you don’t want it.”

  “I’ve never turned down a piece of chocolate pie in my life and don’t plan on starting now.” He grabbed their plates and walked over to the sink, rinsing them off as she cut a small piece for her and a huge piece for him. Instead of sitting back down at the counter, they stood with their hips leaned against the counter and their plates held in their hands. Soon, like the burgers and fries, the pie was gone, and the only sound was the scraping of their forks over the almost-empty saucers.

  He rinsed those dishes, too, and left them in the sink to dry, while she placed the last piece in a plastic container and handed it to him. “You can take this home with you.”

  Their fingers touched as he reached out and took the container from her, the old, familiar tingling tracing patterns up her arm. Jerking her gaze up to his face, it appeared he still felt it, too.

  “Thanks… uh… thanks… I’ll just—”

  “Would you like to stay for a little while?” Her mouth had spoken before her brain warned her to hold back. But now that the words were out, she rushed, “I mean, only if you want to—”

  “Yeah. Absolutely, yeah.” His smile quirked up on one side.

  “Good. Um… I can put this away, and you can take it when you leave.” As he let go of the container, she set it back into the refrigerator. Closing the door, she turned and realized she had no idea what to do now.

  “I like your house,” he said. “It seems like… well, you.”

  Leading him into the living room, she turned at his words, unable to hide her surprise. “Me? I mean, yeah, to me it seems like me, but other people don’t think so.” Shrugging, she amended, “Not that many people have seen it, but the ones that have aren’t very impressed.”

  She sat down on one end of her royal blue sofa, leaning against a green pillow, and watched as he settled on the other end, twisting his body to face her. She shifted slightly, tucking her right leg underneath her, relaxing against the cushions. He was still looking around the room, and she watched as his gaze drifted from the brightly colored pillows to the patterned rug on the wooden floor, to the knickknacks on the shelves and the pictures on her walls.

  “Okay, Dylan, I have to ask. Why do you think it looks like me?”

  Turning his attention back to her, he smiled. “Because it’s your place away from the job.”

  He made the statement so matter-of-factly that she blinked. And yet, with those few words, he’d hit the nail on the head.

  He continued, “You and I know what it’s like to have to be completely in charge at work. We know what it’s like to make tough decisions based on law and not emotions. We wear a uniform, a badge, and a weapon. We help people, we see suffering, and often society is not looking fondly on us when we’re just trying to do our job the best we can. I know it’s hard for me sometimes, and I see how Lynette has to work in a male-dominated world and know it’s the same for you. Actually, harder for you since you’re the Chief.”

  Her head nodded slowly, his words ringing exactly true. She waited
to see what else he would say, and in typical Dylan fashion, he didn’t make her wait long.

  “So, when you get off work, I imagine that you want a place that has color. Feelings. A little fun. Definitely whimsical.” He inclined his head toward a shelf that held her collection of colorful glass figurines—jellyfish, starfish, dolphins. Looking back at her, he grinned. “You surround yourself with things that allow you to just be Hannah when you’re not on the job.”

  A smile spread across her face as she allowed her gaze to drift around the room as he had, looking at the small treasures she’d so lovingly placed in her home. When she looked back at him, she found him staring at her and her grin widened. “You’re exactly right. You’ve described my house and decorations and what they mean to me perfectly.” Laughing, she added, “I feel like I should give you a prize!”

  “You already are.”

  Her breath caught in her throat at the serious tone of his words. Her top teeth captured her bottom lip as she tried to still the pounding of her heart.

  “So, tell me about the people who come into your house and don’t get it.”

  It seemed Dylan was perfectly capable of easing her nerves and getting her to keep talking, and recognizing what he was doing only made it seem nicer. Rolling her eyes, she replied, “My parents only come a couple of times a year, and each time they’re just as critical as the first. They’ve never been happy with my decision to become a police chief in a little town, so I don’t think anything I do with my house would please them.”

  “That’s crazy. I mean, I know you’d indicated how they felt back when we were… um… closer, but I just assumed in time that must’ve gotten better.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “Oh, my father still feels like I turned down an FBI career for the boonies. I mean, essentially, he’s right, but he doesn’t understand that this was the right thing for me. At least my brother does, and that helps.”

  “If I remember correctly, he was a detective in Hope City?”

  “He still is. He comes to see me when he can, and I always make sure to see him the few times I visit up there. He’s doing well, likes his partner, likes his work. And he understands that this is the life I’ve chosen for me and is happy that I found satisfaction.”

  “And what about the other people who see your house?”

  Percy had jumped up onto the sofa between them, and she allowed her fingers to drift through his fur as he kneaded her leg with his paws. Shrugging again, she said, “I don’t really have people who come by. I have friends, but it’s just that I make them slowly. Plus, there’s not a lot of time. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the other people in law enforcement and the women in the AL, I’d never socialize. I enjoy company, but I guess I’m just not the ‘come and have coffee at my house’ kind of person. That makes me sound standoffish, doesn’t it?”

  Dylan shook his head, his brow lowered. “No, not at all. I mean, that goes back to what I was saying about our jobs earlier. It’s hard to do the job we have and be Chief. There are so many demands piled on top of us that when we have time off, sometimes we just need to be alone.”

  Once again, Dylan managed to put into words exactly how she felt. Realizing they’d been talking about her, she wanted to know more about him. They had remained friendly over the years without being true friends. And now, she was allowing herself to give in to curiosity. “What about you? I know you talk about helping your family on the fishing boats. I also know you used to talk about building your house.”

  He rested his arm along the back cushions of the sofa, his fingertips closing around her shoulder. Nodding, he grinned. “My house is fabulous. It took me a long time to build it because I did most of the work myself and only contracted out what I couldn’t do. Granted, I had some friends and my brother who helped, but most of it was me. My design, my building.”

  Leaning slightly forward, she enthused, “That sounds amazing. I can’t imagine you having the time to do your job and build a house.” He laughed and it hit her how much she loved the sound reverberating in her home.

  “That’s why it took a long time. I lived in my tiny-ass cottage on the land while building my house.”

  “You must’ve been thrilled when you finally moved in.”

  “As soon as I got the walls, roof, and windows, I went ahead and moved my bed into the house. I only went back to the cottage for the bathroom and shower!”

  Her laughter joined his. “So, kind of roughing it and kind of not.”

  “Absolutely.”

  A gentle peace settled between them, the silence was comfortable, not stilted. For a moment she wondered if she could have had this for the last several years if she had only allowed herself. Uncertain of the answer, she discovered she liked him in her house and hoped he would be there more.

  “Well, I really should go,” he said.

  She jumped up and retrieved the plastic container of pie from the refrigerator. Standing at the door, she handed it to him and once more felt the tingle through their touch.

  He leaned forward, and for a second, she thought he was going to kiss her. And she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she would let him. Instead, his lips landed on the top of her head. As he leaned back, she looked into his face, and for a moment thought she saw insecurity. Before she had a chance to ponder that further, he smiled.

  “Hannah, I don’t know if you’re interested, but I really would like to take you to dinner—”

  “Yes!”

  His chin jerked back as he blinked, but his smile widened. “Yes?”

  “Yes. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  “Tomorrow is Sunday. Are you working or on-call?”

  “No. I’m completely free.”

  “Well, all right. Consider yourself officially un-free.”

  Laughter slipped out, and she nodded. “I guess that just leaves two questions. What time and what should I wear?”

  His smile slipped, and he said, “Let me figure it out, and I’ll text you.” He reached out and squeezed her hand as he kissed the top of her head again. Turning, he jogged toward his vehicle, climbing inside. With a wave, he executed a three-point turn and headed out of her driveway.

  She watched until his taillights disappeared. Going back into her house, she looked down at Percy and grinned. Then, with no one looking on except her cat, she threw her arms into the air and twirled around the living room.

  11

  The pleasure of having spent the afternoon with Hannah followed Dylan all the way home. But by the time he entered his house, an uneasy panic set in. Where the hell should I take her for dinner? He knew plenty of restaurants in the area, but since asking a woman to dinner was something out of his norm, he had no idea what would be appropriate. The Diner was too casual. So was Finn’s Pub. The Easton Historic Inn was considered fine dining, but he didn’t want to take her to dinner in the town where she worked as police chief.

  Fuck! How can something so simple be so difficult?

  Deciding to call and ask someone, he mentally sifted through his many friends, trying to discern who would give him the best advice. Colt would be loyal to The Diner since Carrie worked there. Aiden, Brogan, and Gareth were all associated with Finn’s Pub. He tried to think of the women that his friends were married to but was sure that Hannah would prefer none of them to know about their dinner plans.

  Out of options, he pulled out his phone and dialed Mitch, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake. “Look, I need to ask you a question, but I need you to keep this under wraps. I’m taking Hannah out to dinner tomorrow and need to know a good place.”

  Just as he thought he would, Mitch gave him an immediate answer without bullshit. “Forget Baytown. Forget Seaside. Forget Easton. You don’t want to take her someplace where you’ll run into a bunch of people you know. There’s a great seafood restaurant in Manteague that’s near the water.”

  Dropping his chin to his chest, he felt the tension ease. Opening his eyes slowly, he said, “Mitch, you’re a lifesave
r. I want this dinner to be nice, and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

  “Good luck, man. She’s a great woman, and it’s about time the two of you got together.”

  He had no idea why the next words left his mouth, but suddenly, he blurted, “We dated for a couple of months after we first moved here. But something happened, and it got all fucked up. We managed to get to a place where we stayed friends and colleagues, but finally, now, it seems like she’s giving me another chance.”

  “Best thing in the world that could happen is when a good woman opens up her heart and lets you in. Nothing wrong with being older and wiser, Dylan.”

  Mitch’s words hit him and he smiled. Thanking him again, Dylan disconnected and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew the restaurant that Mitch had recommended. It was not elegant dining but definitely a step above the Seafood Shack. Pulling up his contact list, he sent a message to Hannah.

  Pick you up at five. We’ll go to Robert’s Fish n’ Grille in Manteague.

  His phone rang almost immediately, and he quickly answered without looking at his caller ID. “Hey!” his voice full of enthusiasm.

  “Well, hey to you, too,” his brother replied, laughing.

  “Shit… sorry, David. Whatcha need?”

  “I’m down two men for tomorrow’s run—”

  “It’s my day off—”

  “I know that. I called Barbara first. That’s why I’m calling.”

  Grimacing, he shook his head at the idea of his family calling the police receptionist to see what his work schedule was—and that Barbara gave out the information.

  “It’s just for the morning run. Come on, bro. I’m desperate.”

  Guilt hit him like it always did. Sighing, he scrubbed his hand over his face. “Okay, fine, sure. But just for the morning.”

  “Thanks, Dylan,” David replied before disconnecting.

  Still standing, holding his phone, he felt it vibrate in his hand. Figuring his brother was texting, he glanced down then grinned at the incoming message from Hannah. She’d sent a smiling emoji in response to his dinner announcement, but that was all he needed for his own smile to spread across his face. A perfect plan for a perfect date.

 

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