Dylan had been purposefully friendly and charming and maddeningly distant. He kissed her like a friend and not the woman he wanted. The last time he’d kissed her like he meant it had been the night he and Will stayed over at her house. He’d kissed her goodnight like it was the beginning of a good night and not the end. He never brought Will with him when he came to see her. “Popped up” described it more accurately. She missed the little boy.
Late into the night, she’d been building him his new bed, dresser, and night table. She’d sat for hours drawing out different horses for the carvings. She hadn’t quite gotten it right yet. She planned to sort through what she had again tonight. She’d start on it this evening, since she had nothing better to do anyway.
Dylan had been conspicuously quiet for two days. No random calls to check up on her. No showing up with a bag lunch. No leaving her little notes on her car at the grocery store, or some other parking lot, telling her he missed her. No flowers left on her doorstep. She thought of the single red rose left on her roof where she liked to sit outside her window. That one had almost done her in completely.
She’d wanted to call him and tell him to come to her house. He made it easy, leaving all his numbers by her phone in the kitchen. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to make a simple phone call. Probably because there was nothing simple about it.
Caught up in thought, she didn’t realize Dylan had driven up in his sheriff’s vehicle. The truck sat below her, but she didn’t see him in it. A smile curled her lips when she felt him straddle her legs from behind and lean in close. His warm breath swept across her ear and cheek. She let the warmth sink deep into her heart.
“Hello, gorgeous. I called you from down below, but you were somewhere else. Thinking about me?” He brushed his lips across her earlobe. A shiver rippled through her. He traced the outer edge with his tongue and slid his hands over her hips and held her tight. His whole body curved around hers, his heat seeping into her bones.
“Actually, I was thinking about a very handsome man.”
“Yeah, I like the sound of that, so long as that man is me.”
His hands pulled her back to him and she leaned into his chest, his breath whispered over her skin seconds before he kissed her neck.
This is what she’d missed. The easy way they connected when they were together.
“It’s not you.” The breath came out of her when his lips sucked gently.
He set her away from him and studied her face. “You’re not lying. You’ve been up here daydreaming about someone else.”
His hurt reflected in his eyes, and she didn’t have the heart to tease him. He’d been so sweetly maddening the last couple of weeks, and somewhere inside of her, she knew it was his way of giving her time and space.
“There’s this really cute little man with light brown hair and a sparkle in his eyes. He likes horses and spaghetti.”
Relieved, his rigid body went lax and rested against hers. His hands pulled her snug against him. “You were thinking about Will?” he asked, surprised.
“Yes. I was thinking about Will. I’ve been working on his furniture. It’s all built. I just have to do the carving, sand it, stain it, and paint out the cupboard.”
He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You were thinking about Will,” he repeated, though it was a statement and not a question.
“I was thinking about you too.”
“Oh yeah. Do any of those thoughts include dinner with me tonight?”
“No. I’m busy.” She didn’t know why she said that. She longed to spend the evening out with him. Unsure of herself and his here-one-minute-gone-the-next routine. It left her confused. Did he want her to simply know he was there as a friend, or did he really want to have her as his wife? He’d said it enough times, yet he never asked her outright.
Maybe he changed his mind now that he was used to the fact she wasn’t dead.
“Busy, huh? I can’t persuade you to change your plans and go out with me on a date?”
“A date? After two weeks of you showing up out of the blue and disappearing into thin air? You haven’t called, or been around in two days. You want me to just drop everything and be at your beck and call.”
So his absence over the last two days had been felt. The hardest two days of his life. Every second of every day he thought about her and wanted to go to her. He wanted her to come to him more. He’d spent the last two weeks actively pursuing her, doing everything he could to show her how special she was to him without pressuring her. She’d passively gone along. He led. She followed. He needed her to participate, reach out to him the way he reached for her.