"Okay, sugar. Point me in the right direction. I could probably use one too." He smiled out the windshield. "Maybe we could work our way up to a full meal."
There was a hint of humor in his tone. I couldn't believe he actually wanted to hang around after how awfully he was treated.
"Yeah." I looked away, suddenly feeling shy. I had thought shy was a thing of the past for me, Dylan and I had been seeing each other for a while and we’d gotten to know each other quite well. Well enough that I’d taken him home with me at least. "I would like that very much."
We drove in companionable silence, a mellow look of tranquility on Dylan's face as we made our way to the closest bar possible. He had reached over toward me, as if he were afraid I would disappear if he wasn't touching some part of me. His hand was warm and soft as it enclosed mine. He’d romanced me with dates, and gorgeous surprise lunches, picnics and sweet moments of handholding, but for whatever reason, we hadn’t advanced past that. At first, it was him putting the breaks on us sleeping together; now it was me. I hadn’t pinpointed what was holding me back, but it certainly wasn’t him. He’d done all the things a gentleman could, yet here we were, still courting as such.
"What are you thinking about, Haven?" His velvety voice washed over me, warming me like a soft blanket.
"Nothing really, just about today." I didn't elaborate about what exactly.
"You don't have to share if you don't want to. I understand the need to keep some things to yourself." Dylan's voice trailed off as if he were in a deep thought of his own. "We all have secrets, sugar. Maybe one day, we can share with each other.”
Unease flickered through me at his words. A moment’s unease that he may be hiding something sparked my fight or flight instincts, but I squashed it just as quickly. Who was I to judge? I had the worst secrets of them all.
"Yeah, maybe." That was all I could say. I couldn't bear to look into his eyes and tell him about my demons. My secrets … the ones only Jude knew about. There was no way anything he could be hiding from me or the rest of the world could change how I felt about him in that moment.
I was starting to fall for Dylan—sweet, soft, gentle, Dylan. I could see my life flashing before me; a life with this cowboy and his southern drawl, calling me sugar, and kissing my neck while taking our child and handling daddy-duty.
What. The. Fuck?
I cleared my throat, my emotions running rampant and causing my body to react.
We pulled into the parking lot of Jimmy’s bar, and not a moment’s too soon, as with my heated fantasies, I’d considered leaning over and having my way with him while he was trapped behind the wheel. Once parked, Dylan cut the engine. He hopped out of the driver’s seat and made his way to my side of the truck.
Opening my door, he held his hand out to me. "Your drink awaits, my lady." A dazzling smile played on his lips as I placed my fingers against his wrist.
"Thank you, kind sir." I played along, hopping down from the passenger side gasping slightly as he pulled me close to his body and sliding me against him until my feet touched the gravel below. My heart stuttered as I looked up at him, slightly damaged from his earlier fight, but still no less handsome than the first time I’d met him. Dylan lowered his head to mine and ever so slowly brought his hand up to the back of my head. My breath caught as his lips touched mine, so soft and warm. The butterflies came back in my belly with a vengeance, flapping their tiny wings around as I lost myself in our kiss. I’d never experienced a kiss so sensual and gentle, so sweet and tender before.
He stepped back, breaking our embrace just enough to speak. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It just occurred to me that I don’t want to waste anymore time not kissing you every chance I get.” He swept a curl of hair from my face and dropped his voice. “You’re the sweetest tasting treat I’ve ever had. Prepare yourself, sugar. I’m gonna take advantage of every opening I can.”
He wrapped my hand around his elbow and walked us to the entrance. Opening the heavy amber-colored door, he ushered me in with his hand on the small of my back, never once breaking contact with my body as we made our way into the darkened pub.
The jukebox was playing a slow, sultry tune as we walked to the far end of the bar. Dylan leaned down and whispered against my ear. "I know you wanted a drink, but how about we work up a thirst first with a dance?"
A shiver traveled down my spine, his breath a delicious combination of warm and cool. "I'd like that," was all I could say, my breath stolen with the sensation of pure want pulsing through my body.