Dillon's Claim (13 page)

As he drove, he grew more
pissed off. Simple fact was, he’d held back on telling Charissa how he truly
felt about her because he was a pussy. He could tell himself all he wanted that
he’d been afraid of scaring her off, but that didn’t change the cold, hard
truth.

He’d been fucking terrified
that she’d reject him again.

This distance between them was
as much his fault as it was hers.

No more, he vowed as he pulled
onto the highway and picked up speed. He refused to let her run and hide from
this—from
them—
anymore. It was high time she recognized once and for all
that he wasn’t anything like her sorry-ass ex and that she had nothing to hide
from him, either in the bedroom or out of it. He loved her and wanted a future
with her.

No way, Charissa. You’re mine.

He’d go and say his piece in
person. If she was going to reject him after that, she’d have to do it straight
to his face.

****

Loaded down with the French-style
chandelier and other supplies she’d just bought at a home improvement store,
Charissa shoved her front door open with a shoulder. “I’m back,” she called out
to her dad, who had to be somewhere back in the master bedroom. “Can you give
me a hand here before I drop something?” She struggled to hold everything as she
crossed the threshold, already tired after a full five hours of running errands.

“Be right there,” he called
back. “Just helping your mother with the last of this taping.”

Great. Meanwhile, she was
going to herniate a disc holding all this stuff.

She turned in an awkward
circle, looking for someplace she could safely unload everything. But there was
nowhere to put it, since all the furniture was stacked in the living and dining
rooms. And if she bent down to put everything on the floor, she’d drop the crystal
chandelier for sure. That’s just the way her week had gone.

Her master bedroom renovation
had been an unqualified disaster from day one, and today was the first day she
actually thought they had a prayer of finishing the job. She was way over
budget already, but at this point she didn’t much care about anything except getting
it done. On top of that stress, she’d had to stay late at work every night, and
then she’d finally come home to crawl onto the mattress on the living room
floor to pine over Dillon.

Sex with him had been the most
amazing experience she could have ever hoped for, but for her, it had been so much
more than that. After what they’d shared, she’d never be able to keep her heart
out of the equation. Truth was, it already belonged to him. He was so attached
to the ranch, they could never make something long term work living so far
apart. Better for her to let their affair die a natural death now than let it drag
on and rip her to shreds when it finally ended.

He’d called her a couple of times,
but she’d always been interrupted by someone at work or one of the many
contractors doing demolition work earlier. Each night, she’d made excuses not
to call him back, terrified he’d crush her hopes at a possible relationship by
making it clear he only wanted a fuck-buddy.

She felt awful for even
thinking that of him, but she was too scared to ask him for the truth. And he
hadn’t volunteered anything. She couldn’t take another slice to her heart. Not
from Dillon. It would kill her.

And yet...she kept thinking
about the way he’d made love to her. The way he’d held her tight afterward. The
way he’d kissed her so hard and deep when he’d put her into her car and made
her promise to call when she got home so he wouldn’t worry. He’d called her
twice every day since then, just to say hi and tell her he missed her.

She wanted to believe he
missed her company as much as he missed the sex, but deep down she couldn’t. At
the end of the day, talk was cheap and didn’t mean a damn thing.

The sheer bitterness of the thought
momentarily took her off guard. God, was she really that cynical? Wasn’t the
first time she’d wondered about that this week.

She hated the suspicious inner
voice that kept spewing its poison at her, telling her not to trust, to keep a
wall around her heart. Dillon had done nothing to deserve her distrust. He’d
always treated her with kindness, with respect. And with a passion that made
her ache at night, alone in her empty bed with nothing but the memory of his
touch to hold onto. Any baggage she toted around from her last relationship was
her own doing, not her ex’s. At least she could take that much responsibility.

Damn, she thought with a frown
as the handles of the heavy plastic bags dug into her fingers. She was being a coward
and
a bitch for shutting Dillon out like this. He’d never said anything
about a long term relationship, but she couldn’t go on living in fear like
this. She’d have to put on her big girl panties and call him, find out once and
for all if he wanted anything more than sex.

“Coming,” her dad called at
last.

Jerked out of her thoughts, she
shifted her grip on the heavy box and held back an irritated retort. Snapping
at her father wasn’t going to make her feel any better. She had no one to be
mad at but herself.

Two sets of approaching
footsteps made her breathe out a sigh of relief, and she shifted around to face
her parents. Her eyes widened in shock and her heart did a crazy roll when she
saw Dillon in front of her father. When had he gotten here? She hadn’t seen his
truck out front.

His blue eyes twinkled as he
reached out and took the heavy chandelier from her arms. Her father took the
bags from her pressure-numbed fingers, but she barely noticed him or his overly
cheerful whistling. Gaping at Dillon, she let her eyes rove over the length of
him. Dark jeans hugged his thighs and a paint-smeared navy blue T-shirt
stretched across his chest and shoulders. A toolbelt hugged his lean hips.

Completely ignoring her father’s
interested looks, Dillon set the chandelier down, took her face in his hands,
and smiled. “Hey,” he said quietly, then kissed her, right in front of her
father.

And it wasn’t a simple peck on
the lips. No, this was a mark of possession, a nonverbal I’ve-missed-you-so-damn-much-and-I-don’t-care-who-knows-it
kiss. It turned her to mush. Her hands curled around the hard swells of his
biceps and squeezed. His spicy scent twined around her. A low moan caught in
her throat.

Breathless and totally aroused
when he finally lifted his head, she stared up at him. He smelled delicious. “What
are you doing here?”

He smiled, presumably at the
shock in her voice. “Thought you could use a hand with the renos,” he said
casually, his thumb trailing across her damp lower lip, “so I drove in this
morning. Your dad put me to work in the master bathroom.”

Oh, God, he was sexy
and
handy. And he’d given up his Saturday to come all the way to Austin and help
fix up her place. Not only that, he’d obviously taken the day off to do it. That
surprised her the most. “What about your work at the ranch?”

“It’s all taken care of.” He
dropped his hands and stepped back, still grinning. “Took me a while, but I finally
figured out that actions speak louder than words with you, so here I am.”

A lump settled in her throat. For
a moment, she couldn’t respond. He was right; actions did speak louder than
words for her. It touched her deeply that he’d rearranged his schedule to take
time out and help her. But what did it mean? A man only interested in sex
wouldn’t go to all that trouble, would he? Just to get laid?

Jesus, will you stop thinking
like that?
“I...thank you.”

“Anytime. I’m almost done with
the second coat in the bathroom if you want to come take a look.”

When she noticed her father
watching them with interest as he pretended to fiddle with a picture she’d hung
in the foyer, she shot him an annoyed look. Caught red-handed, he looked away
and put on an innocent expression then headed back down the hallway.

With Dillon standing in her entryway,
home renovations were suddenly the last thing on her mind. The thick wall
around her heart began to crumble. On the deepest level, her heart already trusted
him. It knew she could depend on him, count on him not to hurt her. She knew it
on an intellectual level, too.

Let him in.

She wanted to. More than
anything. But she still wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted from her.

Dillon gave her a sardonic
smile. “From the look on your face, I guess you didn’t expect to see me again,
did you?”

To be honest, no. At least not
this soon.
She’d been bracing herself all week to make the painful cut, trying to put some
distance between them to make it hurt a little less. But now... “No, I guess I didn’t.”

He made a tsking sound, shook
his head. “What am I going to do about that?”

Stay the weekend with me.
Tie me to the
bed and teach me a lesson.

The thought shocked her. Her
body had ached for him all week long, but she’d been expecting him to pull
back. She glanced down the hall, making sure both her parents were out of
earshot before facing him. “You could stay the night and help me christen my
new shower,” she said, trying to keep things light and avoid what really needed
to be said. “It’s big enough for two now.”

“Hmm.” He stroked his fingers
through her hair, tucked a lock behind her ear. A light shiver rippled through
her. His touch made her want to purr and rub up against him. Absorb that easy
strength and savor the feel of his arms around her. “I could, but I thought after
all our hard work here I’d take you out to dinner instead.”

Dinner? Instead? It took a
moment for her to process the words. So he didn’t
want
to stay the night
and have sex? Disappointment flooded her. Along with a healthy shot of
insecurity. She felt more confused than ever. “I...sure, dinner would be great.”

He took her hands in his, laced
his long fingers through hers. “A real date, Charissa.”

“A date.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his thumbs
over her knuckles. “Remember the way it used to be with us? I want to take you
out, have some time to talk, get to know each other again. I’ve missed being
your friend.”

“Oh.” Damn, that made her
throat tighten up even more. She swallowed. “So...but wait, you’re not saying
you just want to be friends, right?”

“Hell no!” He looked affronted.
“Trust me, sweetness—I want you in my bed again more than anything, but I also want
a hell of a lot more than that.”

She tilted her head, her heart
tripping all over itself. The suspense was killing her. “What
do
you
want, exactly?”

He raised both her hands to
his lips and kissed her knuckles, his mouth hot and seductive as it played
against her skin. The muscles in her belly fluttered. “I’ve missed you like
hell and I tried to give you the space you seemed to want, but I realize that
was stupid of me. I guess I’m doing a damn poor job of it, but I’m trying to
show you I’m serious about you.”

Oh...
“Serious as in...how?”

Staring into her eyes, his
gaze was steady and unflinching. “I’m crazy about you.”

Her heart swelled painfully, cracking
through the walls that barricaded it. A sheen of tears stung her eyes. “You
are?”

He nodded. “Have been for a long
time. Couple more days with you and I’ll be a goner.”

Her heart drummed hard and
fast against her ribs. “I think I’m already gone,” she whispered back. Saying
the words felt liberating. It felt
right
.

Another smile, this one sexy
enough to weaken her knees. “Was that so hard to admit?”

“Yes,” she blurted on a laugh.
“But how will it ever work? I can’t just give up my job, my life. I’m here, you’re
in Bandera—”

“We’ll do whatever it takes to
make it work. I’ll come out to see you a couple times a week, and you can come
stay with me on the weekends. Or I can find someone else to take over the ranch
on the weekends so I can be here. Hell, I don’t much care how we work it out,
as long as we do.” Dillon released her hands to wrap his arms around her back,
still holding her gaze. “I want to be with you. As much as we can until we
decide to move this to the next level.”

Was he talking about moving in
together? She was stunned that he was already thinking about something that
permanent. “You really want that?”

“Oh, yeah, I want that. But as
long as I know you’re mine, I can wait a while longer for the rest of it.” He
dipped his head and placed a slow, lingering kiss on her trembling lips. “You
are
mine, right?”

Just the thought made her feel
giddy. “Yes. I mean, as long as you’re mine, too.”

“Damn right, I am.” He kissed
her again, and this time she went up on tiptoe to meet him, opening to the
tender caress of his tongue. Need and longing and love all swirled together
inside her, making her ache for the feel of his naked body against hers. She
wanted him to take her to bed right now, pin her beneath his hard weight, and
make her fly as only he could. When he ended the kiss with a light caress of
his tongue over her lower lip and pulled back, she could hardly catch her
breath.