19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
DYLAN
“Sorry about Kyle.” Hattie shifted in her seat.
“It’s fine. I get it.” I slowly drove down her parents’ street. “Aiden and I were pissed too when we discovered there was no camera.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I sent a sideways glance her way before focusing back on the road again, a lump forming in my throat. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
She was quiet for way too long before she quietly said, “I wouldn’t have been upset. Maybe a little disappointed, but not mad or anything like that.”
I nodded. Yeah, I figured that out after the news was out. Before tonight, I’d assumed she would be pissed when she discovered that the texts from her stalker had gotten us nowhere so far. It had also dawned on me that maybe the issues Becca and I had were still messing with me.
Hattie and I weren’t together, but she was the first woman that I had spent significant time with since the end of that relationship.
“You don’t need to keep things from me. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
It had nothing to do with thinking she couldn’t handle it. But was I really going to admit the truth?
“It wasn’t that.” I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Honestly, I assumed you would be mad at me.”
“What? Why?” Mouth turned down, she studied me in the light from the streetlamps we passed. “Did you know he was going to buy the new burner at a place without cameras?”
“Well, no. But?—”
“It could have led to something, but it didn’t.” She sighed. “It is what it is, and there’s nothing we can do about it, so why stress?”
I didn’t know what to say. Of course she was right. But with Becca, it never mattered whether the issue was within my control. If I requested time off or tried to switch with another officer and it didn’t work out, it was my fault.
Her phone chimed where it sat on her lap, and she picked it up, swiping her thumb up the screen to unlock it.
“Jesus,” she huffed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just this creep sending me yet another freaking text. I get that he’s unhinged, but take the hint already.”
I hated that this was causing her stress. And for what? It wasn’t like he was giving us anything useful.
“Go ahead and block the number.”
“What?” She assessed me, brows pulled together. “You said it was better not to do that. Don’t let my brother change your mind.”
As I came to a stop at a red light, I turned to look at her. “Doesn’t have anything to do with your brother. I don’t like that this guy is upsetting you.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but I continued before she could.
“I know you can handle it. But I don’t want you to have to if it’s not necessary, and so far, he’s been careful. I don’t think we’re going to get anything from the actual texts at this point.”
“Okay.” A deep sigh escaped her as she focused on her phone again. “What do you want to watch tonight? It’s your turn to pick,” she said once she put her phone back down in her lap.
The smile she sent me had my entire body relaxing.
“ The Kardashians is fine.”
She chuckled. “I knew it. You are totally into it, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “After tonight, something light would be good.”
As we walked into the house, she made a beeline for the kitchen. I didn’t even have to ask what she wanted. I grabbed a Cherry Coke out of the fridge for her while she pulled a packet of microwave popcorn from the box in the cabinet.
When I handed the bottle to her, our fingers brushed, and her breath hitched.
I hated that I noticed her reactions to my touch. That I liked it. That I wanted to know what kind of sound she’d make if I pressed my lips to her neck and then lower…
“Dylan?” she said breathlessly.
I blinked back to the present. Jesus, I needed to get my head straight. Letting go of the bottle, I stepped back. “I’ll get the episode set up while you make the popcorn.” I didn’t wait for her response before turning and heading into the living room.
The space would do me good. I needed air that didn’t smell like her. At least for a moment. But when she settled on the sofa beside me, bringing the scent of fresh rain with her, it was as if I couldn’t survive without it.
We’d been sitting on opposite couches for the past several days, but that changed last night, when I’d given in to the offer of popcorn. I assumed we’d pass the bowl back and forth across the coffee table, but instead, she scampered over and set it between us on the two-person sofa.
Now I was trapped. There was no polite way to say could you please go sit over there? You smell too damn good.
“You okay?”
Despite the way my gut twisted, I nodded. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re wearing that thinking too hard look you get sometimes.”
“Just need to look up a few things.” I opened my computer and forced myself to focus on it. A moment later, she picked up the remote and pressed play, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Ten minutes into the episode, thunder rumbled in the distance. Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn Hattie flinched.
My phone blared where it rested on the coffee table, pulling my attention away from her. I quickly snagged it and dismissed the severe weather alert.
Luckily, I’d invested in a standby generator last year after we’d lost electricity for two days. A thunderstorm in January likely wouldn’t be too bad, but if it was followed by any type of icy precipitation or came with strong winds, there was a decent chance there would be damage to power lines.
Thunder rumbled again, this time louder, and Hattie jumped a foot in the air. Breathing audibly, she brought her legs up and tucked them under herself.
After another crack of thunder, followed by a bolt of lightning that lit up the house, she almost jumped off the couch.
“Shit.” Rather than the show, her attention was glued to the large windows lining the opposite wall.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking in her wide eyes.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
I wasn’t buying it, and when thunder shook the house and lightning lit up the darkness outside the front windows, she practically leaped into my lap.
“Are you afraid of storms?”
“No.” She squared her shoulders.
My only response was a raised eyebrow.
When the wind picked up, whistling through the trees, she pinched her eyes closed. “Okay, fine.” Her shoulders sagged. “I hate thunderstorms.”
It was ironic that she was afraid of thunderstorms, given that she always smelled like mountain air after a rainstorm.
“Why?”
Eyes narrowed, she huffed. “It’s stupid. If I tell you, you’ll probably laugh at me.”
I laid my hand on her knee. “I promise I won’t.”
She stared at me for so long I was sure she wouldn’t tell me, but when the wind howled again, she flinched, then cleared her throat.
“When I was fifteen, I got caught in a storm while I was walking home from a friend’s house.” She sighed. “It got bad really quickly. Ridiculously strong straight-line winds and hail. Then lightning struck a tree only twenty or thirty feet in front of me, bringing the whole thing down. I’d never run so fast in my life, and I was freaking out the whole time.”
“I remember thinking you all seemed unreasonably shocked by the amount of damage that storm had done.”
“What?” Her brows pulled together.
“I grew up on the coast, in Wilmington. I dealt with hurricanes and severe storms and flooding a lot, so for me, it was just another day.”
I’d just moved to Half Moon Lake when that storm hit. I’d been relieved that my parents hadn’t been hit, since it didn’t come up the coast. The damage was mostly centralized in the mountains.
Guilt wormed its way through me at the thought of my parents. It had been too long since I’d been home to visit. I’d left for the police academy at eighteen and had moved here right after graduation, so I didn’t see my parents as often as I would like. But I tried to call Mom and Dad at least once a week.
Thunder shook the house, and she let out a whimper, pulling her knees up to her chest and pressing her head to them.
I put the bowl of popcorn on the table and scooted closer, placing my hand on her back. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. I just have to ride it out,” she mumbled without lifting her head.
Was this how she reacted to every thunderstorm? If so, it had to be miserable. I rubbed my hand up and down her back, feeling her jump each time the thunder shook the house. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore and pulled her flush against my side.
A loud popping sound outside echoed through the house, and then we were sitting in total darkness.
“Dylan,” she whispered, voice shaky.
“It’s okay?—”
She burrowed further into my side, and her scent enveloped me, short-circuiting my brain.
I cleared my throat. “I think a transformer blew. The generator should kick on in a second.”
Thankfully, after Hattie took another shaky breath in, it turned on, and the living room lit up once again.
I smirked down at her. “See? All good.”
Rather than relief, her face was a mask of uncertainty. Thunder and wind continued to rattle the windows. Every time, she’d whimper.
Fuck, her terror gutted me. “Stop thinking about it. Focus on something else.” I wanted to tell her to focus on me, my voice, my touch. But I couldn’t go there.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” I ran my hand up her bare arm.
Her breath hitched at the contact, and our gazes locked. I was tempted to lean in and take her mind off the chaos happening outside.
See if her lips were as soft as they looked.
My stomach dropped. What the hell was I thinking?
It would be better, for both of us, if I got her talking. “Tell me about the weirdest date you’ve ever been on.”
Her lips quirked with the hint of a smile. “One guy asked me if I was fertile.”
My lungs seized up. Was she joking? “Seriously?”
“Yep. Apparently, his mom told him to make sure any girl he went out with could have babies, because that was what was important.”
“How did you respond to that?”
“Um.” Her cheeks heated. “I excused myself to the bathroom and texted him, telling him that I was sick. Then I got the hell out of there.”
I chuckled, the sound causing her eyes to drift to my lips.
I should pull away. Fight this.
Too much was at stake. Giving in would be a mistake, but I was leaning forward anyway.
Thunder rumbled again, and her eyes widened.
That only encouraged me. I had no intention of letting her spiral into her fear again.
I brushed my lips softly against hers, and when she melted into me, I tilted my head, deepening the kiss. It was all-consuming. My entire body, inside and out, screamed for more. Giving in to the temptation, I pulled her close. With my fingers tangled in her hair, I devoured her mouth. But a second later, when thunder rumbled again and she stiffened in my arms, I pulled back.
Fuck . Heart racing, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and studied her. What the hell had I done?
Space. I needed space. Because now, all I wanted to do was dive back in.
“I better check the cameras.” The excuse was lame, but if I stayed here another second, I would cross more firmly drawn lines. “Make sure they’re back up and running.”
She nodded, her lip caught between her teeth. “Okay.”
Standing, I roughed a hand down my face. Then I headed through the kitchen and into the sunroom. Once I was alone, I grabbed the back of my neck with both hands and pinched my eyes closed.
How had that happened? Better yet, why had I let it happen? My career, her safety, and Rhett’s friendship were all at stake if I crossed this line. I wanted to blame it on how gorgeous she was, but I knew better. I’d been tempted by plenty of beautiful women over the years, yet I’d never given in when there were circumstances that complicated the attraction.
So what made Hattie different?
It was so much more than my physical attraction to her that drew me in. The few times she’d been vulnerable with me, I couldn’t resist offering her comfort. Like the night the car followed her, and she ended up at my house. Or when the stalker scared her with his recent text. Even tonight, with her fear of thunderstorms.
I hated to see her so scared, so distraught.
A loud banging on the front door echoed through the house, making my heart leap in my chest. Shit. I’d left my phone on the coffee table. I was such an asshole. It had to be obvious to Hattie that I wasn’t checking the cameras if my phone was sitting in another room.
I made my way back toward her, trying not to make eye contact. I didn’t regret kissing her, but I couldn’t let it happen again. And the last thing I wanted was for her to see any type of regret on my face.
I snatched my phone off the coffee table and saw I’d missed a text and phone call from Logan.
Fuck . As I turned and headed for the front door, I pulled up my camera app so I could confirm he was the person on my front porch.
With a smirk, I swung the door open. “Let me guess,” I started, taking in the two adorable girls standing in front of him. The wind and rain had let up a bit, but it was still coming down, so I gestured for them to come inside. “You’re in a bind and need me to watch the kids?”
The look he shot me as they hustled into the house and out of the rain said yes, but don’t give me shit about it .
Fat fucking chance. “If you’d hire a sitter who wasn’t eighty, you’d have much more reliable childcare.”
“She’s not that old.” He huffed. “And the storm was pretty bad.”
Maybe she wasn’t that old, but there was no way she was under seventy. And unless it was sunny, there was no way she’d drive anywhere.
“I wasn’t even supposed to be on shift tonight, but there’s a big fire down at Keller’s farm. Chief asked if I could assist.”
Dread tugged at my stomach. “Don’t tell me arson again.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Sounds like it was a lightning strike.”
“That’s good. Too many fires lately, and we don’t need any more suspected arsons.” I raised an eyebrow at him, circling back to the reason he was standing on my porch to begin with. “But you do need a young, reliable babysitter.”
“I’ve already told you—I refuse to be a cliché.”
His reasoning for continuing to hire the old ladies was ridiculous. The last one had failing health and only showed up half the time she was supposed to. Clearly, this one wasn’t any better.
“What’s a cliché?” one of his five-year-old twins asked.
I still had trouble telling them apart. But based on the pink headband in her hair, I guessed it was Alice. Nikki hated pink.
“It’s when someone does something predictable,” Logan said, focus still fixed on me.
“What’s predictable?” Nikki asked this time.
Logan sighed. “Girls, why don’t you go put a show on while I talk to Dylan?”
Shrugging, Alice skipped past me. Nikki followed her with a huff. She would be a fun teenager, I was sure of it.
“I haven’t said yes yet.” I smirked at my friend.
“It’s only for an hour or so. Maggie should be finished up at the hospital soon.”
I chuckled. “Bet that conversation went well.”
Grimacing, he ducked his head. “She threatened to find and hire my next babysitter.”
Their relationship was strange, but they worked hard to co-parent successfully for the girls’ sake.
“You should take Jay’s suggestion and hire Izzy.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed at me, and he opened his mouth to respond, but he shut it just as quickly.
“Mr. Dylan, there’s a strange woman in here.” Alice stood in the open archway that led into the living room and peered at me over her shoulder.
“Maybe she’s his girlfriend,” Nikki mock-whispered.
I pinched my eyes closed. Leave it to kids to find the most inopportune times to make comments.
Now Logan was the one smirking at me. “Are we interrupting?”
“No.” I shook my head, irritation bubbling up inside me.
Logan chuckled. “Really? ’Cause you don’t look so sure.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him there was nothing going on between Hattie and me. Only I couldn’t seem to force the words past my lips.