Color of Loneliness (36 page)

“Nah, I’m fine. It’s an old injury.”

“What happened?”

He runs his hand over his jaw. “Car accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs and stares down at the table. She warms up the leftovers and sits back down. “This is
damn good,” he says in between bites.

“Thanks.”

They eat for a few more minutes. “Have you always been a contractor?” she asks.

“Yeah. My dad owns a contracting company in Boise. Chad and I both started working for him as soon as we got out of high school. My dad always planned for us to take over the company when he retires but...” Dylan pauses and clears his throat before he continues.

“Well, things changed, so Chad will be taking it over by himself one of these days.”

Myra nods but doesn’t ask more questions. She can see his discomfort.

“Why did you move back here?” he asks.

Myra takes in a deep breath and blows it out. “Because of Trent. My ex. We worked together and were in a relationship for a couple of years. He got a promotion and a new assistant and, well, they…” She looks up at him. His eyes narrow and his lips thin. She looks back down at her hands. “Yeah. While we were together. Then I found out she was pregnant.”

“That fucking dick.”

Myra smiles weakly just as a loud crashing noise comes from the living room. She shrieks and jerks in her seat.

“What the fuck?” Dylan asks, his eyes wide.

They both stand and stare down the hallway towards the living room. “What the hell was that?” he asks as he shoots Myra a sideways glance.

“I don’t know.”

“Stay here and I’ll go check.”

“No. I’m coming with you.”

He stares at her for a moment. “All right. But stay behind me.” With her heart beating rapidly, she follows closely behind Dylan towards the living room. She frowns when she catches sight of something on the floor next to the fireplace. Dylan picks it up and flips it over.

“That’s weird. It must have fallen off of the mantle,” she says. “That’s my Grampie and Jim; they were great friends.” She stares down at the picture of the two men sitting on the front porch laughing together.

“Hm.” He nods as he stares at the picture. “Do you ever think of that day when he…? When Jim…?” he asks as his eyes find hers.

“All the time.”

He nods, staring back down at the photo. “Me too.”

Dylan hands Myra the picture frame, and she places it back up on the mantle.

He clears his throat. “I think I’m gonna head home. I’m pretty damn tired.”

“You look exhausted.”

“Thanks for the meal. I really liked talking with you and shit,” he says before swallowing hard.

“Me too,” she says, smiling shyly up at him.

He steps closer and leans down towards her, moving slowly. He places a soft, tender kiss on her lips before he turns and leaves.

* * *

Just as Myra puts away the last of the dinner dishes, someone knocks. Her heart beats rapidly as she walks down the hallway wondering if it could be Dylan. When she peeps out the window, she sees Jackie standing on her porch, happily waving at her with a huge grin on her face.

She groans loudly before she opens the door.

“I made sure to wait until Dylan left before I came over. I was going to stop by earlier, but I saw his truck. I didn’t want to interrupt anything like I did last time. I definitely learned my lesson,” she says with a giggle as she steps inside and Myra closes the door behind her.

“I saw the police car. Is everything okay? Dylan’s not in any trouble or anything is he? I mean he seems like a good guy and all, but I really don’t know him at all. And he does seem to have some anger issues. Sometimes it’s the nice guys who turn out to be the bad ones.” Her mouth flaps like the wings of a bird. “Just in case, I came prepared. I’ve got pepper spray if you need it,” she says as she holds it up for Myra to see.

Myra wishes Porter would lock Jackie up, maybe for being a public nuisance or something. “No, I don’t need any pepper spray, and that was Porter that stopped by,” she says as she walks over to the couch.

“Oh, okay. I just love Porter. He’s like a big grown-up teddy bear. I always want to give him a big hug.” Without any pause, she switches topics. “So are you and Dylan a couple now? Are you dating? I think you two make a really cute couple. You just look like you go together.”

Myra sighs and rubs her temples. “No, we’re not dating.”

“Oh,” Jackie says, frowning. “Well, what are you two doing? Why aren’t you together? What’s stopping you from dating?”

Myra buries her face in her hands. “I don’t know,” she says and she really doesn’t. She doesn’t want to push Dylan or force him to talk, but she can sense that something in his past haunts him, keeping him from opening up to her. She just hopes that he tells her soon. Myra knows pain all too well; she’s certain that they can help each other. But she needs Dylan to come to the same conclusion.

“Well?”

“I’m just confused. I don’t know what’s going on with us.”

“Well, don’t worry because I have a great feeling about you two. I kind of know these things. I think it’s going to work out just fine,” Jackie says with a nod and a knowing grin on her face.

* * *

Dylan pulls into Myra’s driveway early again because he can’t help that shit. He smiles when he gets out of his truck and sees Myra standing inside of the already open door. His heart does some weird shit in his chest.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

“Hi,” she says, smiling back at him.

He shoves his hands into his coat pockets. “We should get the roof done today.”

“Oh. Good.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do you know anything about furnaces?” she asks.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. I got up this morning and it was chilly in the house.”

“I can look at it,” he says.

He follows her downstairs to the basement. “Looks like your pilot light’s out. I just need to re-light it, and the furnace should kick back on,” he mumbles to her as he lights it.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Standing, he turns and finds her smiling shyly at him. He just stares at her for a moment, smiling back. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen a more attractive woman. He feels a pull towards her. Giving in to it, he steps closer his gaze moving to her lips. Dylan knows how soft and sweet they are, and how good they feel against his and he wants them again. Grabbing her hand, he pulls her to him, so that their bodies touch. Her mouth gapes slightly as her breathing intensifies when he licks his lips in anticipation. His gaze moves from her lips to her eyes, questioning. She stares into his eyes for a moment before she looks at his lips and nods.

Leaning down, he softly touches her lips with his, tenderly placing small, sweet pecks against her mouth. His hands move down to her lower back, pressing her small body against his tightly as her hands snake up around his neck and tangle in his hair, pulling and tugging gently. That shit turns him on something fierce.

Her lips feel so goddamn good on his. But he wants more. His lips press harder, his tongue pushing against her lower lip. She opens her mouth, and her tongue immediately rubs against his. He groans, making a deep rumbling noise in his chest. He tries to push himself closer to her, but he can’t because of his damn tool belt. He pulls away.

“Hang on,” he grunts as he undoes it, dropping it behind him on the concrete floor. The tools hit the cement with a loud, clanging thud.

“Come here,” he says huskily as he grabs her again, putting his lips and his dick back where they were before. Now he can get some friction against her. “Mm,” he hums against her lips.

Wanting more, his hands slip down to softly cup her ass. She gasps slightly against his mouth. Picking her up, Dylan walks backwards as she wraps her legs around his waist. He pushes her up against the dryer and sits her gently on the edge.

His lips leave hers and trail down her neck; he inhales deeply, loving her smell. “You feel so fucking good,” he whispers huskily against her throat. “I can’t…” he mumbles before he bites her neck softly.
“Get enough…” he mutters again before his tongue runs along her skin.
“Of you,” he whispers before he takes her earlobe into his mouth, sucking it gently, rubbing his tongue over her soft skin.

Dylan sneaks his fingers underneath the edge of her sweatshirt, feeling the soft, warm silky skin of her back. He desperately wants his fingers to make their way up underneath her bra.

“Myra? Dylan? Where the hell are you?” He hears a fucking annoying voice yell.

He yanks his head back and stares into Myra’s startled eyes. “Goddamn it. I forgot about Ray,” he growls in a ragged voice.

* * *

“What are we going to do?” Myra whispers as she pants heavily.

“Damn it. I don’t know,” Dylan says with a scowl as he picks her up off of the dryer and puts her down on the concrete floor. “This is all your fault.” He holds her by the shoulders and glares down at her.

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

With his lip snarled, he looks up and down her body as he releases her shoulders. “Because you’re always looking all sexy and shit. If you weren’t so goddamn beautiful, this shit wouldn’t happen. Maybe I’d be able to control myself around you.”

Myra gasps. She looks down at her blue jeans with the hole in the knee, her green hooded sweatshirt and pink fuzzy socks. A huge grin spreads over her face.

“You think I’m… sexy?” she asks as her heart pounds.

“Yes. Insanely sexy.” His eyes narrow as he continues frowning. “It really fucking pisses me off. You need to do something about it and quit looking so good.”

Reaching up on her tiptoes, she grabs his face in her hands and brings his mouth to hers, kissing him hard and sucking his bottom lip in her mouth. She pulls back and breathes, “Thank you.” She stares deep into his eyes hoping her eyes can express how much his words mean to her.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, breathing heavily. “I didn't mean that as a compliment. I can't control myself around you. Try to make yourself look ugly or some shit, all right?”

She blinks at him, and watches as his lips twitch into a grin. He leans in and kisses her temple before he grabs his tool belt from the floor.

Myra can’t stop smiling, and has to chew on her thumbnail to stifle the girlish giggles that want to escape from her. But a giggle pops out anyway. He looks down at her, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. The fierce look on his face makes her giggle even more. His face softens and the corners of his mouth tilt up. He closes his eyes and shakes his head as he joins her in laughter.

Opening his eyes, he stares at her for a moment before his gaze drops to her mouth. The grin on his face fades. “Jesus,” he groans. “Ray’s gonna know. Your face is all red from my beard.” He reaches his hand up and tenderly touches her skin, causing her to shiver. “Sorry. Does it hurt?” His eyes are soft and gentle as he caresses her.

She shakes her head as she reaches for his hand and gently kisses his palm.

“Jesus,” he mumbles as he stares intensely at her mouth.

She lowers his hand and hangs onto it. “So Ray? He doesn’t know? About us?” she asks.

He shakes his head.

Myra nods and shyly points to his head. “You’re hair. It’s kind of a mess.”

“Oh.” He quickly runs his hands through it trying, unsuccessfully, to get it to lie down.

“I don’t hear him anymore,” he says. “Just let me talk to him, all right?”

Myra nods and follows Dylan up the creaky basement stairs.

* * *

When Dylan steps into Myra’s kitchen, his eyes widen when he sees Ray sitting in a kitchen chair facing the basement stairs with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. As soon as Myra steps up next to him, Ray purses his lips, squints his eyes at her, and abruptly stands, knocking the chair to the floor with a loud bang before he stomps out of the kitchen. Dylan picks up the chair, and turns to Myra. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t come outside.”

“Okay,” she says.

He leans down and places a gentle kiss on her lips before he rubs his thumb tenderly over her cheek. He doesn’t want Myra around if he has to kick Ray’s ass. And he most definitely will kick off in his ass if necessary. With pleasure.

Pausing on the porch, he lights up a cigarette and walks into Myra’s backyard looking for him. He finds him leaning up against the shed, smoking a cigarette.

“You’re fucking her, aren’t you? After all that shit you told me about how you weren’t interested in her, you went behind my back and started fucking her. You could’ve at least had the balls to tell me about it to my face, you dickhead.”

“Look, I’m not – having sex – with her. I…” Dylan frowns, clearing his throat. “I just, I like her, all right? Are you happy, goddamn it? I couldn’t help it. It just happened.

“And why the hell are you mad anyway? She’s made it pretty fucking clear that she’s not interested in you, but you just can’t seem to get it through your thick-as-hell skull.”

Ray snarls at Dylan. “Fuck you.”