Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
BE MY VALENTINE
DAHLIA
I chop the pillows and look over the living room to make sure I haven’t missed anything. Dylan will be here any minute. We haven’t seen each other in a few weeks, besides video chats, and yet we’re still going strong.
I never thought I’d have a long-distance relationship, and when we first began, I didn’t expect us to get serious. But here we are.
It’s always been more than sex with us.
I’ve known that from the beginning.
But I didn’t know the depth of what I could feel for someone I’ve only known for a couple of months. I keep expecting the other shoe to drop, for Dylan to show another side that I don’t absolutely adore, but things just keep getting better.
Right on time, the doorbell rings, and Dylan is standing on my front steps with a huge bouquet of red and pink dahlias and another bouquet of pink roses.
“Hi, beautiful,” he says.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Some dahlias for the Queen Dahlia.” He hands me the dahlias. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day. These are stunning. Thank you. Come in.” I take the flowers and motion for him to come in. We stare at one another for a few long seconds, taking each other in, and then he steps forward and kisses me.
I sink into him.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you.” He pulls back and looks me over. “And you look gorgeous.”
He puts his hand on his heart and taps it. “You make this thing go nuts.”
I grin and lean up to kiss him again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He looks around while I get a vase for the flowers.
“I can’t believe you still haven’t been here,” I say.
“Your place is beautiful.” He grins. “It’s fun to see it in person rather than just the phone version. I love your style.”
“Thank you.” We smile at each other like lunatics.
“Where’s Chloe?” he asks.
“I’m surprised she hasn’t rushed out here yet. She’s excited to see you.”
His grin takes over his whole face. “Yeah?”
I nod, unable to stop smiling back.
“Chloe, it’s time to go,” I call. “Dylan’s here.”
She comes running out and goes straight to Dylan, almost colliding into him. She loves when she gets to FaceTime with him and has been asking (multiple times every day for weeks) when he’s coming.
“Dyyan!” She wraps her arms around his legs and squeezes.
I get a lump in my throat watching the two of them together. The sweet, easy way Dylan has with her is so different from what she has with her dad. I can only hope that Christian will eventually learn to be a better father.
“There you are!” Dylan says, getting down on his knees to hug her. “Oh my goodness, you’ve gotten taller. Last time I saw you, you were here.” He holds up his hand. “And just look at you now.”
She rocks back and forth, grinning up at him bashfully.
He picks up the bouquet I didn’t realize he’d set down.
“I almost forgot. These are for you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess Chloe.”
She gasps when she sees the pink roses. “Thank you,” she says softly.
“That is so sweet, isn’t it, Chloe?” I say, meeting Dylan’s eyes.
She nods. “So sweet,” she echoes. “I yove them.”
I look at my watch. “We should get going. Grammy is excited to make a Valentine’s cake with you.”
“We get to make Vayentine cake,” she tells Dylan. “Me and Grammy.”
“That will be so fun.”
“You make Vayentine cake too?” she asks.
“Not tonight, but we’ll do something fun tomorrow, I promise,” he says.
“Can you tell Dylan good night?” I ask her.
“Good night,” she says.
“Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun making that cake.” He stands. “I can put these flowers in a vase, if you point the way.”
“That would be great. They’re in the bottom cabinet to the left of the sink. Chloe, can you give Dylan the flowers? He’s going to put them in water so they’ll stay nice while we go to Grammy’s.”
She hands him the flowers, and I put our coats on.
“I’ll see you in about twenty minutes,” I tell him.
He winks at me from the kitchen doorway, and I float out with Chloe.
“We saw Dyyan!” Chloe tells my mom almost as soon as we’re in the door.
Mom’s eyes meet mine. “Dylan? California Dylan?”
My cheeks flush. “Yes. He’s in town, and we’re going to dinner tonight.”
“He’s in town for Valentine’s Day? And taking you to dinner?” Her smile grows. “Is there something you want to tell me, sweetheart?”
“Not really.” I laugh. “We’re…having fun.”
It feels wrong, even as I’m saying it, but I don’t know how else to navigate this. I want to tell my mom everything—how great he is, that I have never felt like this before, that he’s quickly become very important to me—but I don’t.
Technically, I never should’ve let Chloe get to know him, but she has, and that’s as far as the circle can go.
“Well, have fun tonight,” she says, smirking at me.
“We will. You too. Chloe’s excited about the cake.”
“We might save Mama a piece. What do you think, Chloe?” Mom asks, sweeping Chloe into her arms.
“Yes,” Chloe says. “And Dyyan.”
“And Dylan too,” Mom adds, eyes sparkling.
I shoot her a look, one that tries to convey that she shouldn’t be making a big deal out of this, but she doesn’t buy it.
The night air is frigid, but Dylan’s arms encircle me as we rush inside the restaurant. The river below is dark and moving, and Owamni’s floor-to-ceiling windows and candlelight are inviting. The view of the Stone Arch Bridge is perfect, all lit up.
Dylan pulls my chair out for me, fingertips brushing my waist, just lightly enough to make my breath catch.
I’m scared to admit it, but I’ve never been happier.
“You look unbelievable,” he murmurs, sitting across from me. His knee bumps mine under the table, and the contact feels like an electric pulse straight to my ribs.
The server brings water and takes our drink order. Dylan’s fingers thread through mine, and he gazes at me.
“Feels like forever since I’ve seen you,” he says.
“It really does,” I admit.
Dinner is perfect—bison and sweet potatoes, rich spices, everything warm and grounding. But the entire time, between bites and stolen looks, there’s this building sense inside me that something is shifting. I care. More than I ever planned to. More than is safe.
Halfway through dessert, he leans forward, voice softer than before.
“I keep thinking…I really wish you could meet my family. You and Chloe. They would be cool about everything. It might be a shock to my dad for a minute, but he’s not going to hold it against you whatsoever that you’re a Granger. He’s not like that.”
My fork stills. My chest tightens.
Because there it is.
“Dylan…” My voice is thin. “I don’t know if we’re…ready for that.”
He studies me, brow creasing—maybe a little hurt, or just trying to understand. “Because of your dad?”
Even thinking about him is a weight.
My father would absolutely lose it if he knew we were dating. Not quietly. Not politely.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Because of my dad. And because everything with us already feels so—”
I stop.
Too much. Too fast. Too real.
He exhales, nodding slowly. “I don’t want to push. Especially not tonight, when we have so little time together. But I also don’t want to pretend that this isn’t…big. You’ve become really important to me. I want my family to get to know you and Chloe.”
That sentence hits me right in the gut.
Because that’s exactly it.
“You’re feeling this too, right?” he asks. “You and me…this is special.” He leans forward, his eyes searching. “I don’t want you to be a secret anymore. You mean too much. We can’t hide forever, can we?”
“But you knew early on that we’d have to,” I say quietly.
His brows furrow, and he leans back. “But things have progressed a lot since then.”
“It’s only been two months.”
His jaw clenches and he picks up his wine, taking a long swig. “Right. Yeah, you’re right.”
We’re quiet, and when the server asks if we’d like dessert, we decline. I don’t think I can eat anything around the lump in my throat.
“Dylan, I do feel it too,” I say, unable to bear the tension between us. “Honestly, it terrifies me how much I’m feeling for you.”
He leans forward and takes my hand again. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“If we’re still…feeling this way…in three months, can we revisit this conversation?”
I nod. “Yes. That seems fair.”
He kisses the palm of my hand, and I think we both breathe easier. Maybe for him it helps knowing there’s an end to the secret-keeping, and for me, I can put off thinking about it beyond tonight, but either way, it’s enough to lighten the mood between us again.
After dinner, we walk along the river path, snow crunching under our feet, the lights from the bridge stretching across the water. He pulls me close, his coat warm around me, and for a minute I let myself imagine what it would feel like if he weren’t a Whitman and I weren’t a Granger.
Later, back at my place, we barely sleep.
Every time we drift off, one of us reaches for the other.
It’s slow and sweet and wild and everything in between.
At one point, he whispers my name against my skin like it means something sacred, and I swear my heart almost breaks with how much I crave every part of him.
In the early hours, when the sky is beginning to lighten with daybreak, he flips me on top of him.
His eyes, his hands, his mouth…worship me.
We haven’t said the L-word out loud yet, but it feels like every touch and every look is screaming it.
My heart belongs to Dylan Whitman.
In the morning, I pick up Chloe from my mom’s house. When we get home, Chloe squeals “Dyyan!” the second she sees him. He scoops her up, and she pats his face, both of them laughing in complete joy.
How could he only be here for one night, and it already feels like he belongs here?
I miss him before he’s even left.
We take our time driving to Windy Harbor.
We go to the aquarium in Duluth, and even though we’re full from lunch and all the treats, we still stop at Betty’s Pies when we reach Cloquet.
Chloe is on an attention and sugar high, and after being slap-happy for a few hours, she conks out on the rest of the drive.
It’s early evening when we pull into the garage of the cute little house we stayed in a few weeks ago. Dylan turns and grins at me.
“I like that we already have memories here,” he says, leaning over to kiss me.
It’s the next afternoon before Dylan goes to spend time with his family.
He didn’t tell them exactly when he was getting in, and the plan had been for him to spend the day with them and his nights with me.
He didn’t want to go today either, but my dad messaged with some paperwork he insisted I get done immediately, and right around the same time, Dylan’s family thread blew up.
“You should go. Hang out with them, and I’ll get this done.”
“But you and Chloe need to eat, and I don’t want to miss out on a second,” he says, his hands gripping my waist.
“I know, but I’ll feel terrible making you wait when you could be seeing your family. Chloe will be napping, and if you’re still not back when she wakes up, we’ll go grab a quick bite and see you later.” I lean up and whisper the rest in his ear: “I’ll meet you back in bed.”
He gives me a long kiss, his hands squeezing my ass, and groans when I pull away. “Okay, I’ll go so you can get your work done.”
It’s a couple of hours before I’m done, and Chloe is awake and hungry, so we go out.
It’s one of those bright winter days where the sun tries its best. We walk inside a cute little place called The Loon.
It’s crowded, but we’re able to get a table.
A group of women laughs loudly across the way, and when I give them a closer look, I freeze.
I recognize two instantly—Goldie and Juju.
I’ve seen lots of pictures of Goldie by now, and she’s even more gorgeous in person.
Dylan’s shown me a few of Juju too, and there must be something in the water around here because she’s also beautiful.
They all are. The third I’m pretty sure is Erin, their family friend.
She’s got the vibrant attitude from over here, and she’s way cooler than I could ever be in her black combat boots and bright red lipstick.
But it’s the fourth woman who punches the air out of my lungs. She has dark hair and eyes the same shape as mine.
Ava.
My sister.
I’m almost sure of it.
I sit there, pretending not to stare while absolutely staring. My heart thuds. I want to go over there and introduce myself so badly, but…what if she wants nothing to do with me? Anger at my father flares hot and deep. If he’d just told me about her and introduced us, I wouldn’t have to wonder.
And then—because the universe has a twisted sense of humor—Dylan walks in.
With his brothers.
His eyes scan the room, find me, and widen.
My pulse rockets. If he acts too surprised, if he walks straight to me, if he says my name with that look he gives me when we’re alone—everyone will know.
But he plays it cool.
And I chat away to Chloe so she doesn’t spot him and yell “DYYAN!” across the room.
I don’t know how I manage to eat, but a woman named Lorraine convinces me to try the Tater Tot hotdish, which is so good, I eat every bite.
When I feel eyes on me, I look up and Dylan gives a tiny tilt of his head. He stands up in the next second, his eyes still on me, and my face goes hot.
“Come on, Chloe, let’s go to the bathroom.”
“Okay,” she says.
He reaches the hallway before we do, and Chloe jumps up and down when she sees him. He picks her up, and she leans her head on his shoulder. I’m so shaken by seeing Ava that I melt into him, hands in his hair, trying to remember how to breathe. He holds on to me, hugging me tight.
And then I hear a throat clear.
Dylan and I break apart and turn to see Erin staring at us, her bright red lips parted in shock.