11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
HATTIE
I couldn’t stop thinking about Dylan handcuffing me to my bed. Jesus. What was wrong with me? I had a stalker, and instead of being worried about being attacked—or worse—by the unknown person, I was getting all hot and bothered by the dirty thoughts about the cop trying to protect me that kept creeping into my head.
It was like the plot of a bad lifetime movie. Spoiler alert: The stalker will end up being from one of the dating apps.
Poor Hattie Williams will be a lesson to all the single women in Half Moon Lake. And I’d never hear the end of it from my siblings.
Dressed and ready for the day, I stepped back into the living room. Dylan looked ready in a pair of jeans that hugged his thick thighs and tight ass. His T-shirt stretched taut across his shoulders as he slipped his laptop back into his bag. The outline of his gun under his shirt caught my eye as he shifted. Had he been wearing it last night? If so, how hadn’t I noticed when I clung to him in his yard? Regardless, his presence here made me feel safe.
“You ready?” He looked up at me.
With a nod, I tucked my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. “Yeah.” I snagged my keys and the small wallet attached from the counter, then followed Dylan toward the door.
“Fuck.” He pulled up sharply, grasping the doorknob, his focus trained on the floor in the hall.
I peered around him, and my heart dropped. “What…”
Outside my door was a bouquet of wilted blue orchids.
No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening.
He slammed the door, turned the dead bolt, and spun, his jaw rigid and his eyes hard. “Go pack a bag.”
“What?” I gaped at him, struggling to form coherent thoughts. God, I wished what I’d seen was a hallucination. Instead, it was evidence that the stalker knew where I lived.
Dylan stepped up close, the movement pulling me from my stupor. “I need to call this in, but we’re not staying here.” He gripped my shoulder. “He’s escalating, and my place has cameras.”
I opened my mouth, but closed it without saying a word. No way was I going to argue with him. Glancing up and meeting Dylan’s intense stare, I nodded.
“Hattie,” he said softly. “It’s gonna be fine.”
I wasn’t sure about that. None of this felt fine.
Without thinking, I stepped forward and burrowed into him. When he wrapped his arm around me and held me tight, I melted against his body. There, for a moment, I could believe his words. That everything would be fine.
He loosened his hold, and I stepped back, peering up at him. Why was this happening? Why me? It had always been easy for me to hide in a crowd. I could quietly leave a room, and no one would bat an eye. I’d never been like my sisters, who drew attention with their loud, outgoing personalities.
Now, though, someone was hyper focused on my every move.
“I’ll go get my stuff.” Sighing, I turned and headed to my room.
After grabbing what I needed for a week at Dylan’s, I came back out to find Aiden standing in my living room.
“Still no hits on the car?” Dylan asked.
Aiden shook his head. “No, but I have officers searching the woods in case he’s on foot.”
Dylan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “He’s taking a lot of risks.”
“Yeah, especially if he knew you were in here. That’s some ballsy shit.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, I worried that the stalker would not be deterred by Dylan. Would I even be safe at his place?
Aiden glanced over Dylan’s shoulder and nodded in my direction. “Hey, Hattie.”
Dylan spun, his gaze softening as he spotted me. “You have everything you need?”
“I think so.”
He closed the space between us and took the large duffel from me. Then he turned back to Aiden. “Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
I followed Dylan out to his car. The police officers canvasing the area made my heart beat faster. But I didn’t want to look ridiculous about it, so I fisted my shaking hands and tried to be calm. Once I was in the front seat and we were headed away from my apartment building, my heart finally slowed down. Knowing Dylan was right next to me, I began to relax. Even if the stalker tried to get close to me again, I had to believe he would protect me.
My phone vibrated, and when I pulled it out and checked the screen, I groaned. Dammit. I’d definitely have to cancel with the girls tonight. The whole thing made me angry. First, we couldn’t go to the bar, and now I couldn’t even have them at my place.
“What is it?” Dylan raised a brow but kept his focus on the road.
As I tapped out a reply, I said, “It’s the girls. Need to tell them I can’t meet up tonight.”
“Don’t.” He put his hand on my phone, pausing my movements. “Invite them to my place. There’s plenty of room for you to chill.”
I gaped at him. Why on earth would he want me to do that? Heck, why was he doing any of this? Loyalty to my brother, I understood, but only to a degree.
“Do you know what you’re agreeing to?” I chuckled. “Savannah is a bit much.”
“A bit?” His lips tipped a fraction.
Fair enough. But again, why would he want my over-the-top, loud-ass sister hanging around his house? Just invading his space for the next several days was bad enough. I considered him, studying his strong jawline, his sharp nose, trying to figure him out.
“It’s fine. I can handle her.” He shrugged. “It’ll take your mind off all this bullshit.”
My heart stuttered at the sincerity in his words, at the thoughtfulness of the offer. It had been a very long time since anyone had truly paid attention to what I wanted or needed. Of course I wasn’t always the best at vocalizing it either.
Swallowing thickly, I ducked my head and typed out a new message.
All the single ladies
Me: I have good news and bad news.
Savannah: Bad news first so we can chase it with the good.
Me: Bad news is my apartment is a crime scene now, so hanging out there is out of the question.
Me: But the good news is that Dylan offered his place instead.
Savannah: Oh did he? That’s interesting.
Brittney: Wait, back up. Why is your apartment a crime scene?
Savannah: Who cares? We get to hang out at the sexy detective’s house.
Brittney: I do. I’m worried about why my friend’s apartment is a crime scene. Do you need bail money, Hattie? Are you okay? Do we need to kick someone’s ass?
Rachel: I love how you assume she broke the law.
Savannah: I’m at work with Rhett, so I can confirm that she didn’t kill him for asking his best friend to stay with her. Though she could have killed Dylan, I guess. But that would be a shame. He’s too fucking mouthwatering.
Me: I did not kill anyone. Stalker showed up and left wilted flowers outside my door.
Rachel: Fuck, that isn’t good.
Cece: Wait, wasn’t Dylan there with you?
Savannah: That raises a good question… Were you two distracted?
Me: yes, actually. We went through my dating history over the last six months. He probably thinks I’m desperate.
Savannah: Or that you’re not willing to settle for a tool bag.
Brittney: Yay for not killing someone. Sorry about the stalker situation, and I agree with Savannah about not settling. Set that bar high. Why not shoot for that sexy detective?
Me: You guys are ridiculous. Nothing is going to happen between Dylan and me.
Cece: Famous last words.
I set my phone down and stole a glance over at Dylan. I couldn’t deny he was extremely good-looking. Tall, with dark features, a chiseled jaw, and muscles—lots of muscles—without an ounce of fat. I hadn’t really noticed him in that way until more recently. I was only fifteen when he first moved here, but by the time I was in my early twenties, it was hard not to notice how attractive he was.
As if he sensed my perusal, he looked over. Quickly, I pulled my gaze away and spun the bracelet on my wrist.
Nothing was going to happen with my brother’s best friend. Regardless of how sexy he was.