A Deadly Love (16 page)

Rod grinned. “Who’s dropping? I was so wrapped up in the harem image I lost track of the conversation.”

“First Harley had a work emergency and now Carter. It makes me glad I took up logging.”

“And poor Elliot went home sick.” Stephanie gave Caroline a commiserating smile and poked her husband with her elbow. “Maybe you’d better ease up on the shrimp, honey. We don’t want you to be next.”

He rubbed his stomach. “Don’t worry about me. I have a cast iron constitution. But I do know when it’s time to make my wife happy.” He scooted back his chair and stood. “Let’s go dance.”

Stephanie took his hand and hugged it to her side as they walked away. A trio of women Brooke vaguely recognized stopped by their table and engaged Caroline in a heated discussion about the school board.

“Shall we?” Dillon asked, touching her bare arm.

She let out a breath and nodded. The crowd had thinned, but he held her close as they danced. Heat radiated through the thin cotton of his white dress shirt where her hand rested against his back. Their legs brushed together, and her temperature shot up several degrees.

His voice rumbled above her ear. “At least the evening’s ending right.”

She frowned and pulled back slightly to look him in the eye. “What do you mean?”

“You should have come with me, not Carter.”

She stiffened. “Maybe I would have if you’d asked.”

His arm tightened around her waist. “Honestly, I’d forgotten all about the damn dance. Between Zack’s chickenpox, worrying about Marnie and Tricia, and problems at work, it wasn’t high on my priority list. When Zack made a comment about his black and white T-shirt, I remembered.” He shrugged. “I stopped by your house to see if you were interested in going.”

“Why, Dillon? The last time we spoke you made it clear you wanted nothing more to do with me.”

“Maybe I overreacted. Watching Carter kiss you burned in my gut, but I’ve had some time to think about it. You’re right. I did behave like an ass after our date, after we—” His lips firmed. “Can we start over?”

The music stopped. Brooke studied the worry lines radiating from the corners of his eyes, the creases in his forehead. He was strung tight with anxiety and stress, and she was making it worse.

“I’m not sure starting over is an option.”

“Then where does that leave us?”

“Alone in the middle of the dance floor. The band is taking a break.”

His lips tilted, and some of the darkness faded from his eyes. “Are we drawing attention?”

“A little.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Good idea.” They stopped by their table to retrieve her wrap. Rod and Stephanie were talking to a couple across the room, and Caroline had disappeared. “Should we tell someone we’re leaving?”

“They’ll figure it out.” He guided her toward the front entrance with a firm hand on her back. Her skin tingled, and her pulse raced.
Maybe we can—

The blast of cold air when the door opened brought her back to her senses. She shivered and hurried toward his truck on the far side of the parking lot. Once inside, he started the engine and turned on the heater.

“It’ll warm up in a minute.”

She nodded. Words lodged in her throat. She pulled the silk wrap tight around her shoulders and stared out the side window at the dark forest. They made the short drive home in silence. He pulled into his driveway but left the engine running. Blessed warmth blew through the heat vents.

“We need to talk. Do you want to come inside?”

“If I do, we’ll be tempted to—” She bit her lip. “We can talk here.”

His voice held an edge. “You’re afraid I’ll make a move on you?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”
A flat out lie.
She was terrified of getting her heart broken. Again. “I’m trying to be smart for a change.”

“What does that mean?”

She watched the play of shadows cast by the porch light cross the plains and angles of his face. The hard jaw, the beautifully shaped mouth, the little bump on the bridge of his nose. She sighed. “Are you looking for a committed relationship?”

He leaned back against the car door. “I want to get to know you better and see where it takes us.”

“So, no commitment, but I’m not supposed to date anyone else.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Her brows lowered. “I’m not trying to be funny, Dillon.”

“I know, I know!” He ran his hand through his hair. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything you don’t mean. I want you to figure out what it is you actually want from me. When you do, we’ll talk again.”

“Does this mean you don’t want to see me?”

She gritted her teeth.
Men could be so dense.
“It means I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Oh.”

“I need to protect myself. I thought I could handle casual, but it didn’t work. For either of us if your temper tantrum over my date with Carter is any indication.”

He grinned. “I don’t throw temper tantrums.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Fine, you made your point. We’ll take a step back. If I didn’t have so many other problems to deal with right now, maybe—”

“But you do. We both do.”

He nodded. “It’s late. I’ll go get Zack.”

“I’m sure Grandma put him to bed in one of the spare rooms. There’s no reason to wake him up. I’ll bring him home in the morning.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. We’re still friends, Dillon. We can help each other out, support each other. We just can’t sleep together.”

He pushed open the door and walked around to her side of the truck. She slid off the seat, landing against his chest. His hands closed over her upper arms. “You’re sure? It seems like a real shame.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Positive.”

He sighed, stepped back, and draped an arm across her shoulders. They walked side by side to the house, hips bumping. At the door, he drew her close again. “You’re right. I know you are. Still—” He caught her chin in the palm of his hand and kissed her.

Brooke was drowning, unable to fight against the tide of feeling tugging at her heart. His cool lips slid on hers, his chest pressed against her breasts, his other hand splayed across her bare back, her wrap having drifted to her feet. She kissed him back, opening her mouth, burying her hands in his hair. When he nudged her against the door, her bare back came up against cold wood, jerking her into awareness.

“No! We aren’t going to do this, Dillon.”

He held up both hands and stepped back. “Sorry.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to get so carried away by a simple kiss.”

Her stomach quivered, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “We always do.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bending, he scooped up her wrap and handed it to her.

“Have you ever wondered why?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “If I say it’s because you’re amazingly hot will you bite my head off?”

She grinned. “No, you idiot. Wrong answer. Maybe the connection between us is strong because we genuinely like each other. But you could be right. It might all be chemistry.”

He touched her cheek, and his eyes glowed with amusement. “I do like you, even when you’re yelling at me.” His hand fell to his side, and he took another step back. “Nothing about our relationship is simple. We’ll work it out. I promise.”

As he walked away, she knew her heart would break into a million little pieces if they didn’t.

Chapter Ten

Brooke opened the back door on Saturday morning, took one look at Dillon’s pale face, and her knees weakened. She grabbed the doorframe for support. “What happened?”

“Stephanie is missing.”

Tears welled in her eyes as pain exploded in her chest. “Oh no. Oh, Dillon, not Steph.”

He pulled her tight against him. “We’ll find her. They’re organizing search parties at the sheriff’s office now. I’ll head into town if you don’t mind watching Zack a while longer.”

She pulled away. “Of course I don’t mind.” The burning pain in her chest increased. “I can’t believe this is happening. Rod must be losing his mind. Their poor kids!”

“Do you think I haven’t considered that? Their oldest son is Zack’s age.”

She took a step back and pressed her clenched fist to her breast. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, I’m sorry.” He rubbed his hands across his face, staring at her through anguished eyes. “I’m sorry I snapped. I know you’re worried. We all are.”

“Dad, Brooke said she’d make me pancakes for breakfast. Do you want some?”

She turned. Zack stood next to the kitchen table wearing Spiderman pajamas and a big smile. She wiped the tears off her cheeks. “I’ll make them in just a minute.”

His smile faded. “How come you’re crying? Why did Dad make you cry?”

“He didn’t, Zack.” She reached for him, wrapping her arm around his thin shoulders.

Dillon dropped onto one knee beside his son. His faded jeans stretched tight across his thigh. “Someone is missing, and I have to help look for them. It made Brooke sad.” He glanced up, meeting her gaze. “She’s going to watch you today.”

“Is she going to help me with my science project for school? You said we’d do it this weekend.”

Sniffing, she forced a smile. “Sure. It’ll be fun.”

“Thanks, Brooke.” He ruffled Zack’s hair and stood. “I’ll give you a call when I know something.”

She nodded. “Please be careful.”

“You, too. Promise me you’ll stick close to the house. If something happened to you—” Dillon’s voice broke, and he took a deep breath. His eyes glittered.

“I promise.”

He turned and left. Holding his son to her side, she stared after his retreating back as he jogged across the lawn. A cold gust of wind slapped her in the face. She pushed the door shut and shivered. The kitchen was warm, inviting. The coffeemaker chugged and gurgled as the last drops drizzled into the pot. The refrigerator hummed. Overhead pipes creaked as they heated for her grandmother’s shower. Everything seemed so normal.
Safe.

Zack pressed closer. “Is my dad mad?”

“He’s upset, but not with you.” She forced a smile. “Let’s make those pancakes.”

“Is he mad at you?”

“No, of course not.” She studied the worried look in his eyes and wondered what was bothering him. “We don’t always agree on everything, but neither of us is angry. Your dad and I are friends.”

“Are you going to get married?”

She pulled the mixing bowl down from its shelf and clutched it to her chest. It took a moment to get her breath back. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because I want a new mom. You’re nice. You know how to bake cookies, and you let me help you with things. That’s what moms do.”

“Honey, I don’t think your dad wants to get married again, at least not right now.”

“He likes you. I saw him kiss you once.”

“Grown-ups do that sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything.” Her heart ached.
It didn’t mean anything to him.
Kissing Dillon wasn’t something she could easily dismiss.

Zack’s round jaw set in a stubborn line. “If you like each other, I don’t see why—”

“It’s complicated.”

“Grown-ups always say that.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s bull crap!”

Her lips twitched. “Are you supposed to use that word?”

“I could have said something worse.” His chest puffed out. “I know
lots
of bad words. My friend Brad taught them to me.”

“It sounds like Brad should have his mouth washed out with soap.”

He screwed up his face. “Yuck.”

“You bet, yuck.” She gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Your dad and I don’t have to get married for me to help you with things like your science project. I’m not going anywhere, so I think you should stop worrying about it.”

He studied her for a moment with serious eyes and finally let out a breath. A smile flashed across his face. “Can I make pancakes in different shapes?”

“I don’t see why not. Who says pancakes have to be round?”

“Mine are going to be the most awesome shapes ever!”

She laughed and pulled milk and eggs from the refrigerator, happy to leave the uncomfortable subject of her relationship with Dillon behind.

Her grandmother joined them, and they ate pancakes shaped like triangles, figure eights, and amorphous blobs. After he wiped the syrup off his face, Zack took the dog outside to run in the yard. It was sprinkling, but staying cooped up in the house all day would be worse for him than a little rain.

June put the last plate in the dishwasher and shut the door. “I heard your conversation with Zack when I came downstairs earlier. I didn’t want to interrupt at the time, but he seems to have recovered from whatever was upsetting him.”

“Thankfully six-year-olds are resilient.” Brooke squeezed out the sponge and wiped the enamel stove top, scrubbing at the baked on globs of batter. “I think he’s worried I’ll leave.”

“Why would he think that?”

“It isn’t easy to carry on a conversation without at least mentioning the missing women. I’m sure he’s heard enough details at school and around town to disturb him. Now with Stephanie—” Her voice broke, and tears flooded her eyes. “She has three kids, Grandma. They have to find her.”

“I’m praying for her, for all of them.” June dropped onto a chair. “I’ve known every one of those girls since they were babies. It breaks my heart, wondering what’s happened to them, fearing for their safety.”

Brooke squatted next to the chair and pressed her face against her grandmother’s soft, wrinkled cheek. “Whoever has them must be holding them somewhere. I don’t understand why no one has found them yet.”

June wiped her eyes with a shaking hand, then stroked her granddaughter’s hair. The gentle touch soothed Brooke’s aching heart.

“Maybe they will today. You said Harley is organizing another search?”

She nodded. “Dillon said he’d call when he has news.”

“In the meantime, we’ll keep praying.”

“I guess that’s all we can do.” Rising to her feet, Brooke walked to the kitchen window and stared out at the woods. Were the women out in the cold, wet forest, frightened and alone? She shivered. It was better than the alternative.