Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE COUNTDOWN
DAHLIA
I never dreamed my mind would be occupied with things like lingerie and how to stage myself to look my sexiest just to put a smile on Dylan’s face…
and elsewhere. It’s hard, but we’re surviving the long distance.
Chloe and I were in California last month.
I didn’t plan to be there on St. Patrick’s Day on purpose, but since I was, I made sure to have green lingerie for the occasion.
We went out with Rudy and some of their surfer friends, and since Dylan had seen me getting ready, he couldn’t think of anything but getting me home so he could see my sexy green ensemble underneath.
When we finally got home, he had my shirt off in seconds, sighing in contentment when he saw what I was wearing underneath. He flipped me over his shoulder and then stretched me out on his bed.
“Touch yourself,” he said. “Please. I want to see, up close and personal, what you do when you’re thinking about me all those miles away.”
We had the sexiest night. After I put on a little show for him, he gave me more orgasms than I could count. God, every time we’re together, I think it can’t be topped, but it just keeps getting better.
I send him a text, still smiling from just thinking about that night. I’m sure he’s still sleeping, but I want to make him happy the second he wakes up and sees this.
Sometimes it’s enough
To imagine you
Watching me
Touch myself.
Good morning. Have a good day.
I get ready for work and drop Chloe off at my mom’s. My mom knows I’m dating Dylan, but she has no idea who he is or how serious we are.
Yes, the guilt is mounting about both.
My dad has been extra tyrannical lately. Everyone in the office walks around on pins and needles. I keep trying to get him to tell me about Ava—I give him so many chances to tell me—but he’s still avoiding the topic like the plague.
And Ava. She’s come to see Chloe and me three times since we met almost two months ago, and we text each other daily. I adore her.
My phone lights up, and when I finish an email, I pick it up to see three texts from Dylan.
Holy fuck. That is working for me, Doll. Not only the thought of you touching yourself, but when you say what you think and what you want, it’s so goddamn sexy.
I liked watching you.
And you liked me watching you too, didn’t you.
No question.
Did you touch yourself today?
No
I wish you had. And I wish I’d really been watching.
Did you touch yourself when you saw my text?
I texted you immediately instead. But I am so hard.
I like it when I make you hard.
You always make me hard. That shouldn’t be a surprise.
Doesn’t mean the thrill has worn off.
Are you wet?
Yes, very. But I’m at work and have to go to a meeting now, so…
Haha. Xoxo
I tap on my dad’s door, and when he says to come in, I enter his office. He’s on the phone, smiling bigger than I’ve seen him smile in a while.
“I’m looking at her right now,” he says.
I pause and give him a second look.
He laughs and motions for me to sit down.
“No, I know, Christian. You don’t have to tell me that. I know how it is.”
Are you kidding me? It’s bad enough that my dad is still so friendly with Christian, but they’re talking about me? I cross my arms and glare at my dad, but he’s ignoring me.
“Boys will be boys,” he says, laughing.
Excuse me while I throw up.
“All right. Talk soon. Will do. Bye, Christian.” He hangs up and looks at me, the smile still on his face.
It’s the most he’s smiled in weeks.
“Why would you talk to Christian about me?” My tone is clipped, and his smile drops.
He frowns. “You’re the mother of his child, Dahlia. Why wouldn’t I?”
I shake my head, frustrated beyond belief. “I shouldn’t have to explain why you should be on my side about this, Dad.”
“I don’t pick sides, honey.”
“You clearly do, and you chose his.”
His jaw clenches. “You’re the one who chose this when you decided to get in a relationship with a colleague in my office…and have a child with him.”
“A relationship that you were all about, even after I found out he’d slept with half of Minneapolis.”
He sputters. “He was young, Dahlia. I guarantee if you gave him another chance, he wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes.”
“I was young. He’s a decade older than me. I can’t believe you’re still defending him!” I stand up, on the verge of tears, and so angry I can’t see straight. “Why do I put myself through this?”
I move toward the door.
“Dahlia, sit down!”
I whirl around. “I’ll email you with my report. I can’t look at you right now.”
“God, you’re so sensitive. You need to get over it and act like an adult.”
I walk out, tears clouding my vision.
Once I’m at my desk, I shut down more and can only hope that no one needs me in the next few minutes. I go to the job listings I’ve had pulled up for the past few days, checking for any new options.
My computer dings with an email and I open it, bracing myself because it’s from my dad.
Subject: Reminder about professional standards
Dahlia,
You’ve been under stress lately, and I’ve done everything I can to make sure you and Chloe are taken care of.
I’ve covered your insurance, adjusted your hours so you can run off to California at the drop of a hat, and kept your position stable when most people in your situation would have been out of work months ago. I’ve never once asked for a thank you.
Chloe deserves stability, and your job here offers coverage and benefits that you won’t find elsewhere, not to mention flexibility.
However, if you walk out of my office during a meeting again, you’ll be forced to find that out the hard way. I’m trying to be patient, but walking out when you’re having a bad day is both childish and unprofessional. Do better.
I’ve made countless accommodations for you, and I’ll continue to as long as you’re dedicated to this company. But I need reassurance from you that you understand what’s at stake.
Please reply, acknowledging that you’re clear on the expectations moving forward so we don’t let this spiral any further.
Dad
Bruce Granger
Owner / Granger Development & Property Group
I’m too angry to respond. I bury myself in work until it’s time to go home. Before I leave, I write him back just so I won’t have to deal with him.
Subject: Re: Reminder about professional standards
Crystal clear.
Dahlia
Dahlia Granger
Chief Accounting Officer / Granger Development & Property Group
It’s the best I can do. In the meantime, I’ll keep scouring job listings.
When I pick Chloe up, my mom looks at me with concern.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?”
“It was a rough day.”
“How so?”
“Dad.”
“Ahhh, enough said.” She sighs and rubs my arm. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t think I can do this much longer.”
Now she really looks concerned. “What do you mean? Do what?”
“Work for Dad.”
Keep living under his thumb.
Endure him keeping my sister from me.
Watch him treating my ex like they’re family instead of me.
Deal with him on a daily basis.
My thoughts could write a mile-long list.
“Oh, honey,” she says softly.
Before I can talk myself out of it, the words tumble out. “Mom…the guy I’ve been seeing. Dylan? His name is Dylan Whitman. He’s…a Whitman.”
“Whitman,” she repeats, like she can’t quite get the word out. “As in Everett Whitman’s son?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
Silence stretches so tight I can hear the refrigerator hum. Mom dries her hands slowly, deliberately, then turns to face me.
“Dahlia.” Her voice is low, like she’s scared to say it out loud. “Your dad is not going to take this lying down.”
My stomach drops through the floor.
“I know,” I say, barely audible.
She steps closer, eyes searching mine. “You know he could make this really awful for both of you.”
The room tilts. I grip the edge of the counter to stay upright.
“I know,” I whisper again, tears spilling this time, no point hiding them now. “That’s what I’m most afraid of.”
Mom’s face softens, but the worry doesn’t leave her eyes. She reaches for me, then stops herself, her eyes leveling with mine.
“Does Dylan know what this means?” she asks. “What Bruce is capable of when he feels betrayed?”
I think of Dylan’s laugh over FaceTime last night, the way he traced my name on his fogged-up shower door like a lovesick teenager. He knows our families hate each other. He doesn’t know my father would burn the world down before he let a Whitman have me.
“No,” I say, voice cracking. “I’ve let him know it would be bad, but…I don’t think he understands.”
Mom pulls me into her arms then, and I let myself break against her shoulder. She smells like dish soap and the lavender lotion she’s used since I was little.
“I’ll do all I can to talk him off the ledge when the time comes,” she says.
“I’m still hoping he never finds out, but, Mom…I love him, so…I’m pretty sure it’s not going to be a secret forever.” My breath catches and more tears flow.
Mom pulls back, her eyes wide. “You love him?”
I nod.
Her eyes well with tears. “Oh, sweetheart. God help us,” she says under her breath.
I’m exhausted by the time I get home. We stayed late and Chloe fell asleep on the way home, so I carefully put her in her bed and back out of her room.
It’s been a while since I checked my phone, and I’m so happy to see texts from Dylan. I want to talk to him so bad, but I’m afraid if I see him, I’ll just cry.
Hey, Doll. How’s your day been? I’m missing you so much.
I’m home, if you wanna chat.
Hey. It’s been a long one. How’s yours been? I miss you too. So, so much.
My day is better now that I’m talking to you.
Same.
Tell me something good.
Hmm. Something good. Well, in the family thread earlier today, there was speculation about how happy Camden’s been lately. I don’t know. I think maybe he and Juju have something going on.
Really? That’s what everyone’s wanting, right?
Yes! It would feel like the stars are finally aligning for them to finally wake up and be together.
I hope they are. What will you do if he’s with someone else?
Well, fuck. I don’t know. I hadn’t thought of that. It just has to be Juju.
Aw. You guys are so sweet. I love how close you all are.
I’m missing everyone pretty bad. You, the most. This last stretch has been the hardest.
For me too.
What are you wearing?
Your hoodie and nothing else.
Fuck. Send proof.
I do. The flash makes my thighs look pale, the hem of his sweatshirt barely covering what he wants to see.
How the hell am I going to survive two more weeks?
Let me see your sweet face.
I snap a selfie and send it.
Let’s see you.
He sends one of him with a goofy smile. It makes me smile.
He FaceTimes, and I pick it up, my mood lighter just seeing his face.
“There you are,” he says. “You doing okay?”
“I think so. Had a rough day at work.”
“Aw, really? Want to tell me about it?”
“Not tonight. Tonight I just want to look at you.”
He smiles and leans back on his headboard. His chest is bare. “You can look all you want.”
“Are you wearing anything?”
He shows me his black boxer briefs. My mouth waters just seeing that much.
“Why don’t you lift that hoodie and touch yourself for me,” he says. “Slow. Like it’s my hand.”
I put the phone on the little stand he sent and he sets his on his stand. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I slowly lift the hoodie and lower my hand between my legs.
“Two weeks and I’m not letting you out of bed for the first forty-eight hours,” he says.
“I’m counting the seconds.”
“Now, be a good girl and dip that middle finger inside. That’s it. Get it nice and wet and then rub it all over that clit. Mmm, yes, just like that.”
He pulls his dick out of his briefs and gives it a nice, long stroke.
“You feel so good,” he says.
“So do you. I want to be that hand, gripping you so tight.”
“I want it to be you too. This is you,” he says. “All you. Dahlia, I want to taste you so bad, while my fingers sink in so deep.”
My fingers are moving faster now, and he watches, mesmerized.
His hand is slow and steady, faster, faster, faster, then slow slides.
I can’t take my eyes off of him. He looks so beautiful, his body pure perfection.
Powerful, broad shoulders and hard slabs of muscle under sun-kissed skin.
His stomach is flat and tight, that deep V calling me with an invitation that can’t be ignored.
His thick forearms and long fingers work over that perfect cock, and I’ve never wanted him more.
“I’m so close,” I cry.
“Let me hear you come, Doll. Please. I’m so close too. So ready for you.”
I forget to breathe and he watches me unravel, my whimpers egging him on. His jaw clenches and then falls open when he comes, my name on his lips.
When the waves subside, I stare at him and miss him so much it hurts.
“I have something to tell you,” he says, still breathless.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath.
“I’ll be in Minnesota in two weeks, and then I’ll go back and finish packing up and make the drive,” he says. “Then I’ll be there permanently.”
“What? Really?” I straighten. “Are you serious?”
“Completely. Soon, we’ll be in the same time zone, and I can just get in the car and be where you are within two hours.”
“I can’t wait. Dylan, this is the best news.”
“I agree. It can’t happen soon enough.”
“And Bill. I’ll get to see Bill more often.” I yawn. “I miss that little guy.”
He shifts the phone so I can see Bill sleeping next to him.
We talk until I fall asleep. When I wake up hours later, he’s still there, his face serene as he sleeps.