Chapter 13
DILLON
Three and a half weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since Roxie had crash-landed into our lives and turned everything upside down.
The same three voices used to echo around this house on an endless loop, but it’s different now. It’s warmer. Sometimes louder, too. There’s an energy she carries that is chaotic, sharp, and playful, and it has me hooked.
I lean back in my office chair, spinning it slowly while the screens in front of me flash lines of code. My brain isn’t on the firewall I’m supposed to be building, though. It’s on her.
We haven’t touched her since that afternoon three weeks ago. Not once. Not for lack of wanting.
When he isn’t working, Boone is pretending to stay busy with maintenance projects that don’t need doing.
Chance has doubled his gym sessions, which means he practically lives down there now.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting here, thinking about the way her laugh slides under my skin and the way she bites her lip when she’s concentrating.
We’d tried to talk to her the morning after, but it’d gone about as well as I might’ve expected from a woman who flinched when her phone rang. She’d perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes darting toward the window like she was mapping escape routes.
Just as we’d tried to get down to business, her phone had buzzed. She’d damn near jumped out of her skin, checked the screen, said it was a friend, and took the call. She’d never come back to finish the conversation.
That was the moment I knew that whatever she’s running from isn’t minor. Because of that, we’d all agreed to wait. To give her space, just like Boone and Chance had been going on about in the kitchen afterward.
About a week later, one of our biggest corporate clients had been hacked, which meant Chance and I have been putting in sixteen-hour days.
Boone has been fielding calls left, right, and center, and Roxie is helping wherever she can with data sorting, compiling reports, and making sure we don’t starve.
She’s slid right into the rhythm of the house like she’s always belonged here, working alongside us to get to the other side of the crisis. Of course, once we’d sorted that out, we were behind on just about everything else, and we’ve been working day and night to catch up.
Now, I’m tired of waiting, and even more tired of pretending she’s just an employee instead of the woman I think about every damn night.
Memories of that afternoon haunt me in my dreams no matter when I sleep, and they follow me around long after I’ve woken up.
Even now, all I can think about is how her pussy had milked my cock and how perfectly her back had arched when she’d come.
Eventually, the monitors lose my interest completely.
I swivel toward the window and see the sky is already darkening again, sunset bleeding through the trees in golden streaks.
Fuck it. I’ve had enough.
Another day is gone and we still haven’t talked. I shake my head, get up, stretch my arms overhead, then march my antsy ass downstairs.
Roxie’s at the kitchen table with her laptop open, tapping away at her keyboard a mile a minute. Her hair is up in that messy bun that makes me crazy. She definitely doesn’t know how sexy she looks with it like that.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the doorframe and trying to keep a leash on my baser instincts. “How’s it going?”
She looks up, flashing me a quick, tiny smile. “Hey. Are you done for the day?”
“Not even close.” I cross to her and press my hand down on the laptop lid, gently shutting it. “But I’m calling a timeout.”
Her eyebrows lift. “A timeout?”
“Yep. It’s about time we took a proper break. How about dinner tomorrow night? No laptops, no talking about corrupted files, data breaches, or VPNs, and no racing back to work while we’re still chewing.”
She hesitates, eyes on mine, biting her bottom lip like she isn’t sure this is a good idea. Or maybe she’s just forgotten what it feels like when someone asks her to do something normal.
“Dillon…” She trails off, drawing in a deep breath as she fidgets with the hem of her fitted blue tee.
In the weeks she’s been here, I’ve learned that pretty much all she’d packed were T-shirts, jeans, and a few sweaters. After what the guys and I had talked about, it made me wonder if she’d left home, wherever that was, in a rush, but none of us had asked.
Yet another thing we’d let go for much too long.
“It’s just food, and we’ve got a proposal for you,” I say with a grin when it becomes clear she doesn’t know what to say. “Don’t worry, it’s not a marriage proposal. I promise I’ll even let you pick the playlist.”
Finally, after what feels like weeks, I get to hear her laugh. “Okay. Dinner. Tomorrow night.”
“Good,” I say, backing toward the pantry but keeping my eyes on hers. “Do you like lasagna?”
She arches a single eyebrow.
“Who doesn’t like lasagna?” she asks, that playful edge in her voice that I’ve come to crave.
“Perfect.”
“You’re going to ask Boone to make it, aren’t you?”
I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Damn, you’re a fast learner.”
She laughs. “A girl can pick up a few things in almost a month.”
As I turn to pull ingredients for cupcakes from a shelf, I catch her watching me cautiously, but with a flicker of something else behind her eyes.
Something that makes me think maybe the waiting will be over soon. Anticipation zaps through me, racing down my spine and settling in a hot knot at the base of my spine.
I watch her watch me from the corner of my eye, seriously considering just going over there, kissing her, and seeing what happens.
But her eyes dart around again. It makes her look like she’s waiting for the floor to drop out from under her, which means this probably isn’t a good time to push my luck.
Sighing as I stride over to the fridge, I try to ignore the weight of her eyes on me every time they flick my way.
This dinner could go one of two ways: either we’d all finally start being honest about what the hell is happening between us, or we’d scare her so badly that she’d be back on a bus by morning. I really hoped it was the first one.
When I start cracking eggs into a mixing bowl, I finally see her open her laptop back up, that guarded expression slipping into place like armor she doesn’t even realize she’s putting on.
That same frustration from before flares up again, sitting like a hot coal in my stomach. I can’t ignore this anymore.
“Roxie,” I say softly, drawing her attention away from her screen.
Her head lifted, her eyes slide back to mine. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want to freak you out.” I brace my hands on either side of the mixing bowl, looking right into her eyes. “It’s just that there’s something I should probably say before we all sit down together tomorrow.”
Her throat works as she swallows. “Okay.”
“We know you’re hiding something,” I say gently, doing my best not to make it sound like an accusation.
Her nostrils flare, her eyes widening as some of the color starts draining from her cheeks.
Maybe I should’ve waited and done this with the guys after all, but I’m in it now. All I can do is push through. Before she even asks, I start explaining.
“It’s not hard to tell. You flinch when the phone rings.
You avoid certain topics like they’re land mines, and you’re always vague when you talk about yourself.
You don’t have to tell me what it is,” I add quickly when she stiffens even more.
“But I need you to know that we’ve seen it.
That we’ve noticed and that it’s probably going to come up soon. ”
Her eyes dart away again, her shoulders stiff as a board. “I don’t—”
“You don’t owe us an explanation,” I say gently, cutting her off before she can try to deny it. “Not unless you want to give one, of course. I just wanted you to know that we want to help. If there’s something or someone you’re hiding from, we can make sure you’re safe here. That’s all.”
For a long moment, the only sound is faint tick of the clock on the wall. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her sleeve. “I appreciate that, but it’s complicated.”
“Most things worth protecting are.”
The faintest flicker of a smile crosses her lips, but her shoulders are still tight, and her expression still drawn.
Clearly, I’m the best person to have handled this.
If you needed a laugh or a smart-ass comment to lighten the mood, I’m your guy, but I’m about as sensitive as a wrecking ball and about as equipped to handle delicate topics.
Still, at least I’d warned her. It was time to back off before I pushed too far.
“All I’m saying is that if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.
You’re still on the team. We still want you here.
I just wanted you to be prepared when they ask, because we really do just want to help, which means it absolutely is going to come up at some point. ”
Her eyes lift to mine again, and there is something else there this time. Not just fear or shock, but maybe a touch of gratitude for the heads-up. Maybe even a little bit of trust.
“I’ll be at dinner,” she says after another long pause. “If it comes up, I’ll be ready.”
“Good.” I nod, giving her a little half-grin to break the tension. “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t going to ask Boone to make everything. As it happens, I make a pretty mean salad.”
She laughs, and the sound loosens something deep in my chest. This girl is still an enigma to us, even weeks later, but it’s clear that she’s faced some serious trials in her life, and yet she has a zest to her.
A willingness and maybe even a deep-rooted desire to live her life and enjoy it, to make the best of every situation, and I fucking love that.
After everything we’d all been through, we needed a little of that exact energy in this house. The last thing I want is to lose that. To lose her. But if we can’t get her to open up, I have a feeling that was precisely what is going to happen.
I just have no idea what else to do to set her at ease. I finally break eye contact and go back to mixing my batter while she goes back to work. Tomorrow, we’ll talk some more, but for now, I’m just going to have to keep being patient.