Chapter Fourteen
DYLAN
Dylan paced from his kitchen to the front room, occasionally stopping to sip his coffee and watch the leaves fall from the grand old maple in his backyard. Casey hadn’t returned his calls last night. He’d gotten just one text telling him she still didn’t feel well and was going to bed.
I don’t understand. One minute, she’s okay; the next, she’s sick and leaving without letting me drive her home. Logically, this doesn’t add up. She’s hiding something. I know it. And she’s not answering texts this morning.
Dylan glanced at the large wall clock in the dining room. I’ll give her another hour and then go over there if she doesn’t respond.
Having decided on a course of action, Dylan set the timer on his phone for one hour and then settled into his office to refine his current building design.
When the timer rang, he finished the section he was working on and stretched out his back. In a concession to the cooler temperatures, he threw a long-sleeved flannel over his T-shirt and stuffed his feet into his boots.
Emily answered the door at Dylan’s knock, but he noted that she stood in the doorway without inviting him in.
“Hi, Emily. I just wanted to talk to Casey and see how she’s doing,” Dylan said.
“That’s thoughtful, but you should text her instead. She’s not up for company right now.” Emily moved more fully into the door’s opening.
“I did. But she’s not answering. I’m worried about her.”
“Well, that just lets you know how bad she’s feeling, doesn’t it?” Emily arched one brow at him.
Dylan cocked his head and watched her. “Emily, is something else going on? Please tell me. I’m concerned about her.”
Emily’s other brow went up. “I’m sorry, Dylan, but I have tests to score. Bye.” She stepped back and closed the door in his face.
“Bye, I guess,” Dylan murmured before walking next door to his house.
Something is definitely wrong. Maybe Aunt Bebe got to her more than she let on. She was helping Mom in the kitchen. Maybe Mom put more pressure on her about us dating.
Dylan stood at his living room window, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. She’s the one who keeps saying we need to talk, but she’s not talking now, is she? Nope, she’s just shutting herself up in the house and having Emily keep guard. Well, two can play that game.
Dylan went back to his office, slamming the door behind him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dylan let himself through his front door, juggling his keys, a pizza, and a six-pack of beer.
I thought this day would never end. I’ve got to sleep better tonight. Even my eyes hurt.
Dylan placed all but one beer in the fridge and carried it and the pizza box onto his back patio. At least the weather is warm today, and I can still eat on the deck. He sank into the cushions, put his feet up, set the pizza in his lap, and twisted off the bottle top before taking a long pull.
Perfect. He let out a deep sigh and felt his shoulders lower. Dylan took another drink and then set his beer on the side table. Opening the pizza box lid, he closed his eyes, relishing the cheesy, meaty scent. Dylan drew out the largest slice, creating long strands of cheese and then breaking them with his fingers. He let his head fall back against the seat and stared at the blue sky while savoring the combination of the spicy sauce, cheese, and toppings with the perfect crispy crust. This is what I needed. This is perfection in a box.
Dylan felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, quickly licked the cheese off his fingers, and then pulled it out.
“Hey, Colin. What’s up?” He mumbled around his bite.
“I’m heading your way. Are you home?”
“Yeah. Let me guess, Rachel sent you to talk to me,” Dylan grumbled.
“No. I wanted to drop off the spec changes for the Oberly addition. That way, I can go to the job site tomorrow and not have to take them to the office. Why? Is there something I should talk to you about?”
Dylan heard the laughter in Colin’s question. “No. I’ve got hot pizza and cold beer. Can you stay for a few minutes?”
“Sounds good. Rachel’s working late tonight, so I’m free. I’ll be there shortly, and we can have that chat.”
Dylan hung up to the sound of his brother’s laughter.
Dylan picked a second slice and enjoyed the silence, knowing that Colin would harass him once he arrived simply because he could.
When the doorbell rang, Dylan snatched two cold beers on his way to answer it. He opened the door and immediately handed one off to Colin.
Colin gave Dylan the Oberly file and took the beer. “I like this new way of greeting guests.”
“You’re welcome. I’m eating on the deck. No plates necessary.” Dylan laid the paperwork on the entry table and led the way outside.
“My favorite kind of meal,” Colin said. Colin sat down on the other side of the table. “So, what’s happening with Casey that made you think I was sent here on a reconnaissance mission from Rachel?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dylan grumbled around a bite of cheesy perfection.
“Fine by me. I’ll relax and happily drink your beer and eat your pizza,” Colin said.
“Uh-huh. Righhtt ,” Dylan drew the word out to make his point.
“That was some game on Saturday, wasn’t it?” Colin perused the pie and took the piece with the most meat chunks.
“Why? What have you heard?” Dylan snapped.
“I haven’t heard anything. What is wrong with you?” Colin asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Nothing. I didn’t sleep much last night. I’m just tired, that’s all.” Dylan felt Colin watching him as he took a drink of beer.
“Seriously, dude, talk to me. You helped me when things were rocky with Rachel. Maybe I can return the favor.”
Dylan turned to face his brother fully, lifting his beer and shrugging. “I don’t know what’s wrong, okay? One minute, everything’s fine, and the next, she claims to be sick and calls for a ride home from the parents’ house. And she hasn’t spoken to me since.” Dylan felt the splash hit his arm from the beer he was waving around. “She won’t even answer my texts, and when I went over to check on her yesterday, Emily wouldn’t let me in the door.”
“So obviously, something happened while you were with the family,” Colin said.
“Right, but I can’t figure it out. Everything was fine, and then, bam. It all went sideways.”
“Rachel hasn’t said anything, so whatever it is, Casey’s keeping it quiet.” Colin took a bite and chewed. “Maybe you need to send flowers…? That always helps.” He nodded.
“I thought about that, but she’s the one who’s always saying we should talk about things, discuss our problems and how we’re feeling. So, nope. It’s a no on the flowers. She needs to talk to me, damn it.” Dylan stuffed his face with half a slice and munched, knowing full well he sounded as mulish as he felt.
“All righty then. Good luck with that.” Colin finished his beer and stood. “Thanks for dinner. And seriously, Dylan, I’m here if you need me. I can stay longer if you want me to.”
Dylan sighed. “No, I’m okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. The whole situation is just driving me up a wall. I don’t think I got two straight hours of sleep last night.”
“No problem. Believe me, I understand. Perhaps she needs some time.” Colin shrugged.
“I wouldn’t mind if she would tell me instead of this radio silence I’m getting.” Dylan scrubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks for making me talk. I do feel a little better.” Dylan picked up the empty pizza box and followed Colin.
“Listen, I’ll be at the construction site all day tomorrow. You can call me if you have any questions about those spec changes. Or you could drive over and see the progress we’ve made. It might do you some good to leave the office for a while. Maybe you could demo something.”
They walked onto the front porch, Dylan automatically eyeing the curb for the black SUV.
“Colin, the SUV is over there.” Dylan slanted his head toward it, causing Colin to turn for a better view.
“That’s not all that’s there. Here comes Casey,” Colin said.
“I’ve had enough of this.” Dylan ran to the street as Casey pulled her car into the driveway. Colin followed on his heels.
Casey hopped out, not even bothering to shut off the engine. “Dylan, stop it.”
The SUV’s driver’s side window was down, and Dylan shouted at the man, who took off his sunglasses and scowled at Dylan before gunning the motor as Dylan reached the center line.
“Dylan, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” Casey yelled.
Dylan glared at her. “What am I doing? What am I doing?” Dylan stalked towards her.
Colin grabbed his arm. “Dude, calm down.”
Dylan wrenched away from Colin and continued. “So, now you want to talk. When you want information from me, you’ll talk. But not when I’m worried that you’re sick. You can’t even return a fricking text to let me know you’re okay. What happened to us talking about things, Casey? Tell me that.” In the back of his mind, Dylan knew he was out of control, but he was beyond caring. “Just answer me this. Do you believe me now that those guys are up to something? That you might be in danger?”
Casey shook her head. “Dylan, no, I…”
Dylan closed his eyes, nodded, and then looked at her. “I can’t do this, Case. I can’t spend all my time worrying about you when you don’t trust me enough to believe me or even consider what I’m saying—let alone tell me why you left on Saturday. I’m done.” Dylan backed away and went around her car.
“Dylan, please,” Casey said.
He didn’t respond. He just shook his head and kept walking.
“Colin?” Casey asked.
“He’s hurt Casey. And understandably so.” Colin shrugged and followed Dylan back into his house.