Dylan (23 page)

She grabbed the sides of his face and tilted it up so their gazes met. “Tell me you used a condom.”

His blank look was her answer.

She was on her feet before he could stop her. “What part of the curse didn't you understand?”

“I'm sorry, darlin'—”

“Don't darlin' me,” she bit out.

He stood up, towering over her, and his confusion washed over her. “Look, all I know is that you have a family curse, you never explained what it involved. Besides I don't believe in that kind of stuff.”

“But you're Irish!” Tears pooled and slid down her face. How could she have ignored the warning signs? “I'm not ready to grow as big as a house and carry your twins.”

His eyes were dark and dangerous. “Are you telling me you wouldn't want the children I could give you?”

She'd been stupid to let her lust rob her of the ability to think, the ability to act and prevent a possible pregnancy. Rattled to the bone and embarrassed to the core, she grabbed her clothes, yanked them on, and started walking toward the ranch house.

“Ronnie, wait!”

She sniffed back the tears and shook her head.

He was angry and still naked when he caught up to her. “So am I a pity fuck?”

That got her full attention. “Excuse me?”

“I thought we had something good going here, but if I'm not good enough for you, just say so and I'll have somebody give you a ride into town.”

How could last night's loving and this morning's early wake-up call end so badly? “We did… I mean we do—”

“Then what's your problem? Maybe I didn't make you pregnant. It was only one time… God, that sounds lame, but maybe luck will be on our side.” When she didn't say anything, he grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her. “Damn it, you get to me. My brain shut off—O.F.F.—when you grabbed ahold of my dick.”

He stood there vibrating with anger—with an emotion close to the fear slashing through her brimming in his dark and dangerous eyes—and she believed him. Dylan was an honorable man who'd been blinded by the lust that she'd stirred him to. How could she stay mad at him?

She stifled the snicker. “Nice mouth, Garahan.”

He pressed it to hers. “Likewise, DelVecchio.”

She melted against him and confessed, “I thought I'd have more time before the curse was fulfilled.”

“You really believe in it?”

“Not until I met you.”

He sounded like he was pleased. She looked up at him and frowned. He was smiling. “What's so funny?”

“You are, darlin'.”

“I told you not to call me that. That sexy Texas drawl is how we got in this predicament.”

“No use closing the barn door now that the stallion's been set free.”

“I thought it was a cow,” she grumbled.

“I prefer to think of myself as a stallion.”

Her lips quirked as she fought the need to smile. “I just bet you do.”

“Can we worry about what might be later?” His sincerity struck a chord.

“I guess we could.”

“I've got to get going on my chores.”

She didn't like the way he was frowning at her. “So do I, so I'll let you get to it.”

“You won't shut me out?”

Ronnie thought about it, but it was wrong to place the blame squarely on his broad shoulders when she'd been the one to tempt and tease him into a frenzy that ended up with them making love without protection. “I'd be the jerk if I did.”

“So don't be,” he urged, running his hands up and down her arms.

“All right.”

He took her hand and started walking. “Let's go get some breakfast.”

Her laughter felt good and stopped him in his tracks. “What's so funny?”

“Aren't you going to put your pants on?”

“Damn,” he said, looking down. “I'd be breaking one of Grandpa's rules if I showed up to breakfast naked with women in the kitchen.”

She followed him back to where they'd spent the night. “Are you making that up?”

He shook his head and reached for his jeans. Pulling them up, he fastened them and sat down to pull on his socks. “Nope.”

“But why would you show up to breakfast naked?”

“That's how I sleep.”

“But aren't you embarrassed?”

He grinned at her over his shoulder as he hunted down first one boot and then the other. “Are you?”

“Well, not if it was just the two of us, but I'd never show up for a meal that way.”

“Never?” he asked, walking toward where she stood bent over folding the quilt.

She straightened and handed it to him. “It's a little damp on the bottom from the dew.”

“No problem. It's hardy, like my grandparents.” He stuffed it under one arm and took her hand again.

She liked the way it felt: strong and sure. “Dylan, what if our luck doesn't hold out?”

He walked a little ways before answering. “Then we'll just have to keep trying until we get you pregnant.”

Love for the man filled her to bursting. “You wouldn't have to be responsible—”

“Don't even go there. Garahan men don't walk away from trouble… they run toward it.”

“But it was my fault—”

“Darlin',” he said, tossing the quilt in the truck bed. “We're in this together. Hell or high water.” He kissed her briefly and patted her on the backside. “We've got to haul our asses or the day'll pass us by.”

“I just want you to know…” She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. She wasn't the same woman who'd left her past behind. She was stronger, she was resilient, and she was head over heels in love with a Texas cowboy. Going for broke, she spit it out, “I love you.”

His eyes rounded in shock and his mouth opened but no words came out.

Perfect
, she thought. They may have sealed the deal and activated the DelVecchio Curse for this generation, and he didn't feel the same way about her.

“No,” she said holding up her hand. “Don't say what you don't feel.”

Instead of apologizing and pouring out his heart, the way she'd hoped, Dylan rounded the truck and got into the driver's side.

Shock held her immobile.

“We're burning daylight.”

No mention of her play on words last night, using starlight in place of daylight. No mention of the love they'd made or the possibility of pregnancy. Drawing in a deep breath, she got into the truck and slammed the door. Maybe it was lust and her feelings were all one-sided.

Dylan pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road, tires spitting out gravel as he floored it back to the ranch house. Her heart hurt watching the man who vowed Garahans ran toward trouble get out of his side of the truck and leave her there.

Maybe she'd hurt his feelings more than he let on. Then again, maybe he really didn't care if she ended up pregnant.… maybe he was like her ex.

That thought stopped her cold. Dylan Garahan was the complete polar opposite of her ex. Time to give credit where credit was due.

He held open the back door. “You coming?”

He didn't sound mad; he sounded preoccupied. Maybe she was making a mountain out of a molehill, time enough to sort things out later that night when he came by to work on the shelves in her back room.

“Be right there,” she answered. “I'm going to hang up the quilt.”

He looked down at her and his eyes warmed by degrees. “Thanks. I'll start breakfast; my brothers probably ate everything that wasn't nailed down. Ronnie?”

She looked over her shoulder at him, surprised to see his look of frustration. “What?”

“I don't know much about love.”

She swallowed the comeback and waited for him to say more. When he turned and walked inside, she knew she'd chosen a long row to hoe.

Don't give up so easily, bambina.

Removing a couple of clothespins from the line, she smoothed the quilt over it and refastened the clothespins. “It's so hard,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes, tension clogging her throat.

That's because he's worth it.

“Ronnie, dear,” Mavis Beeton's voice mail began, “I'm over at the Smith place and had a great idea. Call me.”

“What in the world is she up to now?” Ronnie was used to Mavis's coming and goings and the unusual orders she placed with Guilty Pleasures from time to time.

They finished eating and Dylan wasted no time or sweet words on her—just a tip of his hat on his way out to saddle his horse. It wasn't until after she'd heard hoofbeats racing past the house that she realized she had no way to get to town… well, unless she hot-wired his truck.

She called Mavis back, but didn't have a chance to speak to her, just listen. “I'm in a hurry—can you meet me at my place?”

Ronnie agreed and ended the call.

The kitchen was clean, the dishwasher was running, and steaks marinating for dinner. After the way Dylan had hightailed it out to the barn, she didn't figure there was any reason to stay. “Was he thinking I'd just sit out here and watch the grass grow?”

Ronnie thought about leaving him a note, but what the heck—he hadn't kissed her good-bye, so she'd return the favor. One more glance around the room satisfied her that she'd left it cleaner than she'd found it. With dinner soaking up her favorite marinade in the fridge and the makings of her peaches and cream cobbler on her grocery list, she closed the back door and sprinted toward Dylan's pickup.

She just stood there for a moment admiring the stepside pickup, her favorite body style. “Well, a woman's got to do what a woman's got to do.”

Opening the driver's side door, she got in, reached under the dashboard, pulled the wires that were already visible, and touched them together until the engine caught and started to idle. Sliding out from under the steering column, she sat on the front seat and looked down at her hands and smiled. She'd learned how to hot-wire anything with wheels, but hadn't been able to learn how to play piano.

“Weird,” she mumbled. “Well, time to head on into town and see what Mavis is up to.”

Thinking and driving usually got her into so much trouble that she'd end up on the wrong road going in the wrong direction, so she flicked on the radio and kept time with the music, tapping on the steering wheel.

“And for you oldies fans out there, here's one from Conway Twitty.”

Ronnie kept time not really paying attention to the lyrics until she heard the refrain—“I don't know a thing about love”—and thought of Dylan and his heartfelt confession.

“When will you learn to keep your mouth shut?” she asked aloud, putting the truck in park and getting out to open the gate. Once she'd driven through, she remembered Dylan's shell-shocked expression and total lack of response to her declaration. “Stupid,” she said, putting it in park again. For a heartbeat she thought of leaving the gate open, but wasn't sure why they kept it closed other than to keep people out.

Did their cattle wander this close to the property line, or did they graze elsewhere? She hadn't seen any, but that didn't mean there weren't any nearby. Her responsible side had her closing the gate, but then hesitating as she flipped on the turn signal.

You
shouldn't steal.

She'd placed herself in the line of fire again, knowing the reason why cut her to the core. Her damned wounded pride. Stomping on the gas, fishtailing onto the main road, she headed into town. “I'm just borrowing his truck. I'll bring it back in time to cook dinner.”

Just under an hour later, she was pulling up outside of Mavis's house. Her friend was waiting for her. She looked at the truck and asked, “Isn't this Dylan's truck?”

Ronnie grinned. “Yep.”

Mavis shook her head. “Interesting.” When Ronnie didn't say anything else, Mavis said, “You should host a lingerie party and let us come up with the guest list.”

Ronnie laughed. “You're a constant source of inspiration.”

“Good, because Jolene thinks it's a great idea and we've already invited people.”

Ronnie turned onto North Main Street and pulled up outside of her shop. “In that case, give me a minute. I'll be right back.”

“Aren't you going to turn the truck off? It's a waste of gasoline.”

She shook her head. “I'd rather keep it running than have to hot-wire it again.”

The sound of Mavis's laughter followed her into her shop, lightening her heart. She ran upstairs and found the box she'd received the day before and headed back downstairs and outside.

“So, are the ladies meeting us at the Lucky Star?”

Mavis nodded. “Between my connections and your stock, I think we could keep you in business even if the whole block burned down.”

When they arrived, Jolene was waiting for them. “Come on in. I've put coffee on.” When they walked into the bar, Jolene grabbed a tray of mugs and the pot. “Caffeine anyone?”

Ronnie smiled. “Thanks. Well,” she said, “what do you think?”

Jolene looked at Emily and nodded. “I think we should keep it small, by invitation only. The ladies will feel pampered. While you show them your lingerie, perfume, and massage oil, we offer them some of Lettie's special sandwiches.”

Mavis agreed. “Lettie's chicken salad is always a hit.”

“I've been experimenting with two new types of frosting for my signature brownies,” Emily said. “I could donate dessert.”

Ronnie's eyes filled. “You're all so generous… willing to help me when I haven't really done anything to earn your generosity.”

Mavis patted her arm and handed her a tissue. “We women have to stick together, especially in times of trouble.”

“If you give us the list, Mavis,” Jolene said, pushing her chair back and standing up, “we'll start inviting people.”

She really loved it here. “When I'm up and running, I am so paying you all back.”

Jolene stared at her and narrowed her eyes. “Convincing Dylan that he and his brothers should be a part of our all male revue during Take Pride in Pleasure Day will be all the payment we need.”

Ronnie winced. Dylan's truck! “Hey, I've got to go, um—”

“Return a truck?” Mavis asked sweetly.

Ronnie laughed. “Something like that.”

“I can't believe Dylan let you drive it,” Emily said. “Garahans don't give the keys to just anyone.”

“He didn't actually give me the keys.”

All eyes turned toward her. “I, uh…”

“Hot-wired it?” Jolene suggested.

Ronnie beamed. “My cousin Vito taught me years ago.”

“Useful skill,” Gwen said.

“It has come in handy over the years.”

“Ever go to jail for it?” Emily asked.

“Not yet,” Ronnie said with a grin.

Jolene looked at the clock on the wall. “Best be getting out to the Circle G.”

Ronnie grabbed her box and thanked everyone. “I'm forever in your debt.”

Mavis waved her away. “Friends lean on friends… friends lean back.”

Ronnie looked at the group surrounding her, acknowledging, “It works.”

Hot-wired and headed back to the ranch, Ronnie wondered how best to approach Dylan after leaving the ranch without a word… or note. She thought of then discarded so many ideas that by the time she got out to open the gate, there was a steady pounding at the base of her skull.

There were no other vehicles parked outside when she pulled up, leaving her to wonder if she'd taken their only means of transportation. Ignoring the ache in her head, she got out of the truck and walked up the steps to the back door. The swing caught her eye, and at any other time, she'd have sat down and enjoyed the simple pleasure, but this evening, she had steaks to broil and a man to grill.

No one was in the kitchen, but that was probably for the best. She could have dinner broiling and ready to serve by the time the men arrived.

By the time she was setting the cobbler on the stovetop to cool, Jesse and Tyler came in from outside. “Hey, Ronnie. We were wondering where the truck went. Everything all right?”

She nodded. “Perfect timing. How do you like your steak?” Looking behind them she watched the back door for Dylan to arrive. “Did you wash up?”

Tyler answered for the both of them. “Rare. Yes, ma'am. We'll finish setting the table.” Turning toward his brother he said, “Grab the forks and knives.”

Dylan still hadn't shown up by the time she'd put dinner on the table. She couldn't stand the suspense and finally asked, “Is Dylan feeding the stock?”

Tyler stared at her for a long moment before answering. “He… uh… had to go into town.”

Jesse wouldn't meet her gaze, instead, he tucked into the meal before him, filling his mouth so he wouldn't have to speak.

The fact that they weren't going to tell her was painfully obvious. Either Dylan asked them not to tell her where he was going and when he'd be back, or it was a brother thing… covering for one another.

She swallowed her feelings and started to straighten up.

“Aren't you going to eat with us?” Jesse asked.

“I've actually got things to… uh… do at home.” Before the tears welling in her eyes fell, she turned around and finished washing the pots, pans, and dishes she'd used preparing their meal.

“We'll load the dishwasher,” Jesse offered. “Dinner was great.”

Tyler smiled down at her. “Dylan will be sorry to have missed you.”

She couldn't meet his gaze for long. “See you tomorrow.”

Before they could call her back, she was out the door and almost to the truck before Jesse caught up to her. “Hey can I give you a lift?”

She stopped with her hand on the driver's door. “I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking.”

He watched her as if waiting for her to say something else. When she didn't, he shrugged. “No problem. Dylan rode Wildfire into town. We're never really stuck unless we want to drive down to Brownsville.”

She didn't know where it was or why it was significant, but she nodded, hoping he'd stop talking to her.

Jesse wasn't in on her plan; he'd talked her ear off by the time they'd made it to town. When he pulled up in front of her place, she grabbed her box of lingerie and bolted out of the truck, thanking him on the fly. She didn't turn around to see if he was planning on getting out of the truck, and was relieved when she heard the sound of him pulling away.

She opened her door and closed it quickly behind her, leaning her forehead against the back of it, finally giving in to the pain welling up inside of her. “I hate to cry,” she ground out as the first tears fell. “Gives me a headache.”

Pushing away from the door, she turned and walked upstairs. “Matches the one in my heart.”

Listless, she shuffled down the hallway and fell face down on her bed. It wasn't comfortable, so she rolled onto her side. “Face it, girl, he's long gone. You pushed him away with your hissy fit and lack of enthusiasm when he asked you whether it was babies in general or just his babies that you didn't want to be pregnant with.”

“
Stoonad
,” she chastised herself.
Stupid.
She'd spent the most incredible night of her life making love with Dylan. He was passionate, his lovemaking raw and untamed, just like the man. But there's more to a relationship than just sex.

Watching the play of light on her ceiling as a car drove down the street, she wondered what he was doing in town. Was he with someone? And why would she even think along those lines after the way they'd burned each other up beneath the star-filled Texas sky?

“Certifiable,” she mumbled. “Crazy. Dylan was a generous lover.” And why the hell was she thinking of him in past terms? “Will he come back or will he hate me forever?”

“Arrgghh.” Needing to move, to do something, anything except lie alone in her bed, Ronnie did what she always did to unwind: yoga. Changing into her favorite workout clothes, she stood barefoot on her mat in front of the picture window. The light was too bright, so she turned it off, relying on the glow from the incandescent bulb in the overhead kitchen light.

She went through the motions, relying on her inner copilot to remember the moves that would have been far too much for her brain to conjure up at that point. A half hour later, she was on the floor in the Lotus position, clearing her mind and finally finding inner peace.

Rolling up her mat, she stored it beneath the sofa and headed to the kitchen to fill the teapot. She always had the need for a hot cup of tea after she meditated. “Cinnamon Spice should do it.” Once the burner was heating up, she reached into the cabinet and found the tea.

The pot whistled before she realized enough time had passed for the water to heat. She wandered around her apartment, wondering why she'd given her ex even a portion of the house they'd purchased. He didn't deserve it and her lawyer was certain he could get her more, but something had held Ronnie back—probably the fact that she didn't really want any reminders of their brief time together.

“Water under the bridge,” she murmured into her mug. Too bad she'd finally found her comfy place… and it was in Dylan's arms. All of the earlier emotions she'd been battling came back in a resounding wave of despair. Digging deep, she wiped away her tears and wandered back into the living room by the window. Leaning against the window frame, she watched the way the moonlight illuminated the street below and thought of the song she'd heard earlier.

Her heart twisted a little remembering the way his lips had pressed to her heart as he pulled her closer and loved her while the sweet breeze blew across the pond, rustling the grass until it sang a soft and gentle melody.

A dozen fractured thoughts filled her mind, but she pushed them away, concentrating on sipping her tea and keeping a lid on the tumultuous feelings inside of her that were struggling to break free. It was hard to be wanted the way Dylan seemed to want her last night, but it was harder still to be tossed aside, forgotten amidst the ashes of their shared passion, wondering if he'd be coming back or moving on to another conquest.