Fatal Intent (Desert Heat Book 3) (20 page)

THIRTY-TWO

After Dylan had finally read her first two stories about Dawn, they had talked at length about their living arrangements. Alex wondered if couples who rushed into marriage ever sat down and planned it out, or whether their passion for each other overrode all the practical matters.

She and Dylan had started out rough five years ago and their time together since he came back had been crazy, too. They often found themselves at odds, and yet it hadn’t cooled their passion for more than a few days. They’d talked about that.

Dylan had found her sorting the boys’ laundry while he did some things on the internet to secure her blog and her computer.

“I swear, I don’t have any idea how those boys can get so dirty in one day,” she said, turning to him as he walked into the cramped room with her. When she looked at him, his eyes were smoldering with desire and her heart skipped a beat. “Dylan?”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he said. He took the clothes from her hands and dropped them on the floor, then entwined her fingers with his and led her out, down the hall and to their bedroom.

Alex always felt loved when Dylan made love to her. But that day she felt cherished. He didn’t let her say anything, kissing her every time she opened her mouth. He undressed her, unhurried but insistent, and after her first instinctive hesitation, she let him.

He pushed her hands away when she tried to help him take his own clothes off, and then he stepped back, out of her reach, and drank her in with his eyes as he stripped off his shirt, then his shoes, then his pants. He never took his eyes off hers, that she knew of, though she took hers off his long enough to see he was ready for her.

She heard a soft moan and knew it was hers when his eyes lit up, and then he was with her in one step. Time stopped as he kissed and stroked her until her skin was on fire and she was ready to beg for what he was withholding. Before she had to, he covered her, moving slowly and deliberately, and sending thrills through her that turned to an earth-shattering climax.

Afterward, lying content in his arms, she asked, “Can you please remember to tell me how much you love me like that next time?”

He laughed. “Next time? And when would you like that to be?”

“How about now?” she said.

“We were supposed to talk,” he teased.

“I like this better.”

“So do I, and if we don’t get dressed, I won’t be doing much talking. But we need to talk.”

Alex pouted, but she knew he was right. After that, though, they couldn’t find anything to disagree about. Alex agreed to do her very best to let Dylan know where she was and what she was doing if she wasn’t where he expected her to be. Dylan agreed to try not to freak out every time she was fifteen minutes late getting home.

“I’m not one of those guys,” he insisted. “I don’t care if you have friends and go out without me. I trust you. But I worry, too, when I know you have a dangerous career ahead of you.”

“Funny, I never realized it would be. I’m thinking about it, and maybe I’ll make some changes. But if I do continue this, I can’t worry about you worrying and still stay on my toes.”

“Then don’t worry about me worrying. I’ll deal with it.”

~~~

That’s when she’d asked him to come with her today. Since the services would be closed-casket and the boys hadn’t known Dawn, Dylan decided they wouldn’t be too traumatized. It turned out the church had provided a place for kids under ten who didn’t want to attend the funeral, and the boys were content to stay there and play.

It was time to get them and head home, to what Alex was looking forward to as a new, stress-free life.

THIRTY-THREE

Three months later

“Are you ready to go?” Dylan called to Alex. He already had the boys buckled in, and though the heat of the summer had given way to cooler temperatures, sitting in a car could still get pretty hot. Dylan turned the key and started the air conditioner. He grinned at the boys in the rear-view mirror.

“Always remember to tell your wife you’re going fifteen minutes before you really want to go,” he said. Davi’s eyes grew round in the reflection.

“Is Alex your wife now?” he asked.

“Buddy, you know she isn’t. We’re going to get married after she finishes school, remember?”

“And then she’ll be our mom,” Davi stated.

“That’s right. But she’s pretty much your mom now, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, and she’s pretty much your wife,” Juan quipped. Dylan couldn’t argue with that. He still wanted that ring on her finger, and if he had his way, the engagement ring would be there soon. For now, it was just an understanding.

Alex came out, finally, dressed in something conservative and tan, with a black lace scarf over her head. It wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d ever seen her wear. In fact, he hated it.

“What are you wearing?” he said, as she got into the car on the passenger side. He ducked to get in as well, and found himself squished between the seat and the steering wheel. “And why is the seat so far forward?”

“Because this is my car and I’m seven inches shorter than you,” she said, smiling. She sure was possessive about the minivan he’d bought her because he didn’t trust her Sentra with her life or his boys’.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. Are we all set?”

“All set,” she said. “And to answer your first question, I’m wearing something appropriate for my mom’s memorial service. What are you wearing?”

“Something I can be comfortable in until we get to your dad’s. I’ll change there. Are you going to be okay?”

“Of course. This is old news. I may shed a tear, but I’m not going to have hysterics. I’m just glad it’s over and we can lay her to rest.”

Dylan felt the same way. Unexpectedly, the appellate court hadn’t dismissed Harvey Lloyd’s bid for a new trial outright, on the grounds that the evidence that convicted him in the first place was highly circumstantial. Lloyd’s attorneys had made the outrageous claim that Alex’s dad had every bit as much motive for murder as Lloyd did. It took the prosecution calling witness after witness from Dodge to testify that Paul Ward had always insisted his wife was still alive. His frequent and public refusals to divorce her for abandonment for over fifteen years and his unblemished reputation in Dodge convinced the jury he was innocent.

Harvey Lloyd was returned to prison because the jury could find no reason to overturn the first conviction. Alex still wasn’t sure it was a just verdict, but he’d be in prison for other murders if not for her mother’s, so she was content with the outcome. Her mother’s remains had finally been released for burial. It seemed fitting that she should be buried on the day before Thanksgiving Day.

Dylan planned to stay with Alex and the boys for the long weekend. They’d been invited to stay at Wanda’s, since Dylan still felt odd about sleeping with Alex in her dad’s house, but the boys would stay with ‘Grandpa’, because Wanda had only the two bedrooms. They were all looking forward to a nice visit, once the funeral was over.

What no one knew but Dylan was his plan to propose at dinner on Thursday. This time he had a ring, and a strong hope she wouldn’t laugh at him or call him insane.

Paul and Nana had done a wonderful job of arranging the funeral. The minister at the church where Elizabeth had worshiped was new since those days, but he was willing to perform the service for her anyway. They had rounded up some old friends who would speak about her life from a time before her troubles. Of course, the casket would be closed.

The most surprising thing about the plans was that Jen Mackey was going to sing. Dylan supposed it was okay, since Paul and Jen had always claimed they were just friends. Jen hadn’t even been in town yet when Alex’s mom disappeared. So he didn’t know why he was surprised, unless it was maybe that she owned a bar, which didn’t seem to fit with a Methodist church and hymns. But what did he know? He was raised half-assed Catholic, and they sure didn’t seem to mind drinking.

“Earth to Dylan.” Alex’s voice, laced with laughter, intruded on his thoughts.

“What?”

“Davi needs to use the restroom. Can we stop in Gila Bend?”

“Oh, sure.”

“Where were you?” she asked.

“Inside my head, I guess.”

“Scary.”

“Ha-ha.”

An hour and a half later, they let the boys out of the back of the car and followed them to the front door of Alex’s dad’s place. Juan had already rung the doorbell, and Paul was opening it when Dylan and Alex caught up with them.

“Come in, come in!” Paul ruffled the boys’ hair and hugged Alex. Dylan stuck out his hand, but Paul used it to pull him into a bear hug, too.

“Are you guys hungry? There’s a ton of food in the kitchen. Where’d those boys go?”

Alex answered, laughing. “To the kitchen, of course. I swear I don’t know where they put it. We’ll have to clean them up if we feed them. Dylan, better go rescue Nana.”

He went, seeing Alex’s wink. She wanted some time alone with her dad, and he respected that. He heard her question as he passed into the kitchen, “Dad, are you okay?” He didn’t hear Paul’s answer.

“Come here you handsome devil,” Nana said.

Dylan pretended she was speaking to Juan. “Go ahead, son, Nana wants a hug.”

Juan rolled his eyes at Dylan, but submitted to a hug and kiss on the cheek from Alex’s Nana. She gave Davi the same treatment and then it was Dylan’s turn.

“I was talking to you, you tease,” she said. “You know, if I were forty years younger, I’d give Alex some competition.”

Dylan laughed. “And if you hadn’t taught Alex how to cook, I wouldn’t care about the forty years.” He loved flirting with Nana, even though the old girl could be embarrassingly inappropriate sometimes. Alex just laughed it off, so he did, too. But he wouldn’t want to hurt Nana’s feelings.

“Oh, you flatterer. I won’t tell her you want me if you won’t,” she said.

Oh, man,
really
inappropriate. He gave her a weak smile. Alex and her dad came in moments later and they decided what to serve for lunch and what to save for later among all the food offerings brought by old friends on the day of the long-lost Elizabeth’s funeral. Between today’s food gifts and tomorrow’s feast, Paul would have food for a month.

Soon it was time for the funeral itself, and Dylan shooed his family out the door to the van. There wasn’t room for all of them in Paul’s car or in Nana’s van, with Aunt Jess’s wheelchair. Dylan wondered briefly why there wasn’t a limo for Paul at least, but the trip to the church was so short there was no time to dwell on it.

The Methodist funeral was very different from the Catholic funerals he’d attended in the past, as well as from the fusion of Native and Catholic ceremony they’d had at Dawn Redbird’s service. There was a lot more singing, for one thing. Dylan did his best to follow the music in the hymnal with his rich baritone, and Alex surprised him by harmonizing in a low voice he found incredibly sexy. But Jen’s beautiful soprano literally soared, both in the congregational singing and in her solo. Dylan was blown away. Who knew Jen could sing like that?

When the minister took the podium, Dylan composed his face to neutral, but kept his eye on Alex. He remembered how he’d felt during his mom’s funeral, which now seemed long ago, though it had only been a few months. Alex might think she was just fine, but putting your mom in the ground, even when you thought you were prepared, wasn’t easy.

At last, it was over and the graveside service concluded. They went back to Paul’s house and let the boys change clothes, and then it was time to eat again. Dylan and Paul watched the kids play in the back yard as it got dark, while the women got started on prep for the Thanksgiving dinner. Dylan could see some hard workouts in his future after this trip.

“Dylan,” Paul began. “What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

And that’s how Alex’s father learned of her engagement before she did.

~~~

Alex prepared plates for the boys before she sat down at the loaded table. It reminded her of last Thanksgiving, when Dylan showed up with them unexpectedly. At that time, the boys had still been in foster care. The foster family had been called away on an emergency, and Dylan got to take them on short notice. The others at the table were the same, too.

Her dad, who seemed about to burst with some secret today, Nana, Aunt Jess. Wanda had brought Kevin Thurston again, and this time it was easier to be gracious to him. His about-face in attitude had been too new to trust then, but surprisingly it had been permanent. Wanda had been a new widow, then, too, which made the occasion bittersweet, since her husband was missing from the table, and Thurston had been a poor substitute. And Jen, nervous about intruding on a family celebration.

Alex remembered with surprise their relationship had been strained at the time, but then, Dylan’s arrival with the boys had changed her own attitude. She’d spent too much of the time since then backsliding and being a brat.

As Alex sat down and her dad started to say what he was thankful for, Alex was uncertain whether she could articulate hers. Thankful Dylan hadn’t grown tired of her attitude and dumped her? Would she really want to say that out loud, in front of her family? She couldn’t quite see it, and would have to think of something else.

Wanda, seated next to Alex’s dad, spoke quietly about her gratitude for good friends who’d seen her through her grief at losing Hector and for her restored health after her minor heart attack. She had lost thirty pounds since then, and Alex could now see the beauty she must have been in her youth.

Next to Wanda, Kevin said he was grateful the people around this table hadn’t figured out how to run him out of town before he straightened his ass up. The whole table laughed when Davi’s piping little voice said, “Dad! He said a bad word!”

Next, it was Aunt Jess’s turn. She was thankful for the times when her MS let up on symptoms, allowing her to be with family at times like these. Nana was thankful for her children and grandchild, and now for Dylan bringing young ones into her life again.

Alex hadn’t thought of anything to say that wouldn’t bring the mood down, and only Dylan remained before her turn. What was she going to say? Whatever it was, she hoped the boys made people forget it. Jen was after them, and Alex counted on her to bring the ceremony to a close with some kind of joke.

Dylan stood up, which caught her attention and stopped her mind’s frantic search for something cool to say. What was he doing?

Then, he knelt on one knee next to her.

Alex’s hands flew to her mouth, but Dylan took one of them and held it tightly as he looked deeply into her eyes. She had to remember to breathe, and the room was so quiet she could hear everyone else breathing.

“Alexis Elizabeth Ward, I’m thankful for you. I’m thankful that you love me as much as I love you, and almost as much as you love my boys. I’m thankful your dad let me back into your life. I have one more thing I hope to be thankful for. I’d be thankful if you will agree to marry me.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as the others erupted in applause. Dear God, she loved this man! He took something out of his pocket with his free hand, and showed it to her. An exquisite diamond, set in a circle of smaller ones, flashed at her as he waited for her answer to slip it onto her finger.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, Dylan, of course I’ll marry you.” Dylan smiled and pushed the ring into place, then took her face in both of his hands and kissed her to the sound of applause, cheers and laughter from the others.

“After I finish school,” she added, when she was able. More laughter greeted her words. And calls of ‘what are you thankful for?’ Everyone quieted down, waiting for her to state her gratitude. Then, before she’d quite figured out how to say it, Davi’s voice filled the room again.

“
Now
is she your wife?”

That brought down the house. Amid peals of laughter, Alex turned to the little boy at her side. “I’m thankful I have Dylan to love and his boys to mother, especially when they make me laugh. No, Davi, I’m just his fiancée. But I’ll be his wife soon.”

Davi got shy when everyone laughed at his outburst, and couldn’t be persuaded to say what he was thankful for. Juan said he was thankful that he was going to get a new mother, since his old one was in heaven. After that, Jen just smiled and shook her head. “I think that’s a good thing to be thankful for, honey,” she said. “Let’s eat.”

~~~

On the way home on Sunday, Dylan asked Alex how they’d plan the wedding.

“Oh, you get no say in it,” she teased. “Nana, Aunt Jess, Wanda, Jen and I will plan it. Your job is to show up.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “You do know I have to wear my uniform and my Smokey the Bear hat.”

“Shut up!” Alex laughed.

So much for that joke. Dylan was serious about one thing. He’d happily plan the honeymoon, but he was thankful to escape the craziness he’d heard went into wedding planning. He just hoped Alex wasn’t going to insist he write his own vows, and that she wouldn’t turn into Bridezilla, although he was pretty sure she was too practical for that.