Indigo Nights: A Sexy, Contemporary Romance (22 page)

But I was a different person now. Dylan had given me no reason to doubt him, and the fact was that he obviously still had so much resentment toward Alicia; maybe he should meet her so he could put the past in the past and move on—with me.

“Hey.” He squeezed my knee under our table. “I’m not lying to you. We’re not in contact, and I’m not interested in anything that she has to say. I got over her a long time ago.”

“I think you should consider hearing her out. Maybe you’re not as over her as you think you are.” I didn’t want our relationship to be in any way a reaction to what Alicia had done to him.

“Look at me,” he growled and I turned to face him. “I’m with you. She had her chance.”

“All I’m saying is think about it. Just promise to tell me if she gets in contact, or you decide to see her.”

He needed to know that transparency was important to me. It was at the core of my sobriety. I demanded honesty from myself and I needed it from the people in my life.

“I’m not going to see her again, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay, but I want to be clear about my expectations. I need openness from you. Don’t hide stuff. If you decide you want to meet her, that’s fine. Just tell me.”

I watched his chest rise as he took in a breath. “Okay, but I don’t want to meet her.”

“Just think about it.” I smiled tightly at him.

“Are we okay?” he asked. I clearly wasn’t good at faking my smile.

“We’re more than okay. I’m crazy about you, and I don’t want either of us fucking this up.”

He grinned. “I’m crazy about you, and I really want to make you happy.”

He looked sincere, vulnerable and so damn sexy. I smoothed his hair away from his face.

I was falling for Mr. 8A.

Our table filled up and Dylan introduced me to various people. Raf and Dylan’s business was quite the supporter of the charity at the center of the evening’s gala. I hadn’t realized that they would be such a focal point of the evening. When the speeches started, it became clear that the charity was a mental health organisation. It wasn’t the most obvious cause and that Dylan had chosen to support them added a depth to my understanding of him.

“I just need to thank some people.” Dylan dipped his head and kissed me on the cheek as he stood up and made his way to the stage.

He looked so handsome in his black tie, his hair swept back from his beautiful face. I couldn’t quite believe he was mine.

I was so focused on the fit of his tux and the sparkle in his eye that I wasn’t focused on what he was saying until I heard the words “my experience with depression.”

“I couldn’t remember a point in my childhood that wasn’t marred by the debilitating disease that is depression. My mother's illness began when I was born. As a result, I remember her being only a peripheral character while I was growing up.” Dylan stared out into the crowd as he spoke, his eyes searching for something. I wanted to rush up on stage just to hold his hand, to let him know that I was here for him. “It was my dad who took my brother and I to school, cooked us dinner, taught us how to ride a bike and checked our homework. I have no memories of my mother doing normal, motherly things. I don’t remember her smile, her laugh. All I remember is her being in bed and being told she was sick. I spent nights worried that she would die, that my dad, my brother and I would catch whatever she had and get sick too.”

Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. How had I not known just how incredible this person in front of me was? The idea that this man, who was so in control, so considerate and confident, was once a vulnerable boy who just wanted a normal life was almost too much to bear. It was easy to assume that Dylan’s life had always been as charmed as it was now, but it clearly had been anything but. I wanted to take away his pain and make him happy. I had an urge to comfort and soothe him. How could I have not known this?

His voice was calm and steady, but I could tell by the way his hands fisted by his sides that what he was telling the room wasn’t an easy confession.

“When I left home for college I found this incredible charity, which we are here tonight to support. They educated first me, and then my father, on my mother’s condition, and they paid for my mother’s medication and her therapy. Eventually I got the mother I should have had twenty years earlier, and my father got back the wife he married. Tonight, with your generous donations, we’ve made it possible to give countless people back their families. Thank you.”

My forehead was tight with sorrow; as he returned to the table I tried to hold back my tears for him.

He’d never mentioned his parents before. My stomach dipped, and I felt as if I hadn’t had enough time with him. I wanted to know everything about him. In some ways, it felt as if we’d known each other forever. I didn’t think I’d experienced real intimacy before Dylan, and his speech was evidence that there was so much more to know.

As he sat down, I grabbed his hand under the table and ran my thumb across his wrist. “I think you’re very special,” I whispered into his ear.

He smiled tightly, keeping his eyes facing forward.

“I meant what I said to Alicia. I’m not going to let you go. I was actually thinking of extending my trip.”

He turned toward me and raised his eyebrows. “Because of my speech?”

“For of a lot of reasons. You’re probably busy, but while you’re at work perhaps you’d lend me your kitchen for an afternoon?”

“Will you promise to greet me at the door in nothing but an apron and high heels?”

I laughed, pleased he could still make me happy as well as sad. “How long have you held that image in your head?”

His grin spread wide across his face. “A while.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me every one of your fantasies and we’ll see which ones we can make come true.” I winked at him.

“You’re all I need,” he whispered. My heart expanded in my chest as I reached up to kiss his cheek. He had other ideas and explored my mouth urgently, as if we were at home without an entire ballroom watching us.

The next evening, I woke in Dylan’s arms as he carried me up the steps to his brownstone. I’d agreed to spend Saturday night at his place, and Don had picked me up from the studio. I’d been up since four, and we hadn’t slept much after the gala. With the run-in with Alicia and getting to know about Dylan’s mother, I hadn’t wanted to a miss a moment with him. I was clearly paying for it now.

“You can sleep, my sweet.”

“I want to talk to you.”

He kissed the top of my head, setting me down on a softer-than-air sofa.

“This is comfy.”

He chuckled. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Some water would be good.”

I combed my fingers through my hair and sat up, taking in my surroundings. The room had a bright, almost beachy feel. A dark wood table sat in front of the squishy sofa and another, higher table was placed over by one of the long, shuttered windows. A collection of photographs adorned the surface, and as much as I wanted to go and investigate, my legs didn’t share my enthusiasm. The walls were decorated with black and white photographs of scenes of what looked like Cuba.

“I like your place,” I said as Dylan came in carrying a tray.

“I’ll show you around later,” he said, setting down the tray. “Are you sure you don’t want to go straight to sleep? You’ve had a long day.”

I shook my head. “Oh my. You are the perfect man, aren’t you?” Along with my drink, he’d brought in a slice of chocolate cake.

He pecked me on the lips, but before he could pull away, I grabbed his collar and pulled him over me. He groaned and kissed me properly, pushing his tongue against mine, as if he were looking for a deeper connection.

He pulled back, leaving me panting, and handed me a glass.

“Thank you. And cake? You’re spoiling me.”

Dylan grinned as he rearranged himself and pulled me into him. “I watched your slot and your interview. You were amazing.”

My face heated. “I wasn’t amazing, but it was fun. I enjoyed myself.”

“You were amazing. I imagine most of the male population of Illinois had their right hand down their pants while they were watching, so I’m not sure how many of your viewers you’ll convert to baking.”

I slapped him on the arm. “It was only a teeny segment.”

“Yeah, but they were running trailers all morning, and they interviewed you live. You were the focus of the whole show. I recorded it; we can watch it if you like.” He reached for the remote control but I grabbed his hand.

“No. Please. I’ll die of embarrassment.” I curled up against him.

“Later then.”

“Maybe never,” I mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. “You can’t pretend it didn’t happen. It’s exciting—like the stuff you do on YouTube, just bigger and with more people watching.”

“I guess. But I don’t want to think about any of that now. I just want to be here, with you.”

My phone rang and Dylan went to collect my purse, though I didn’t ask him to. It was such a small thing, but it made me feel like we were a team—he was looking after me, and I wanted to look after him. This was what it should be about, shouldn’t it?

“It’s Jake. Do you mind if I answer it?” I asked.

“Of course not. Shall I leave you to it?” He went to stand, but I pulled him back. His question was a reminder that we were still feeling out the edges of what our relationship looked like. Did I like privacy when I spoke to my brother? Did he like to shower in the mornings?

“Don’t go.”

He smiled and leaned back again.

“Hey,” I answered my phone.

“How did it go? I’ve checked YouTube, but I couldn’t find a clip,” Jake said.

“It was good. I can send you the digital file. They said they’ll send it through. Are you at work?”

“Yeah, are you back at the hotel?”

“Um, no. I’m staying with Dylan tonight.” I stroked my hand over his thigh. I’d mentioned to Jake that I was seeing someone just before I’d left for Chicago.

“You are? If it’s serious, I’m going to need to meet this guy. I hope he’s looking after you.”

I looked up at Dylan. “Yeah, it is for me, at least. He just brought me lemonade and cake.”

Dylan slid his hand under mine and wound our fingers together. There was heat between us, as always, but this felt . . . more.

“Sounds like he knows how to get on your good side. Look, I’ll leave you to it, but I’m serious. I want to meet him.”

I laughed. “We’ll see. You need to trust me. It’s different now. I make better life choices.”

“I know. I just worry.” Jake had earned his right to worry about me. And Dylan had said that he wanted to meet him.

“Don’t. I’m good. Send my love to everyone.”

I ended the call and slung my phone on the table.

“He’s worried about you?” Dylan asked.

“Always. I think there’s lots of change in my life at the moment, and that makes me vulnerable.”

He smoothed his hands up my arms. “Is it too much between us?”

I turned and traced his stubbly jaw with my fingers. “No. Is it for you? Are we going too fast?”

“Maybe on paper.”

My stomach churned at his admission. I hadn’t wanted that to be his answer.

“But it feels right,” he continued. “In my heart, even in my head, it all makes sense. But I can understand why your brother might be concerned. What did he say?”

“He said that you clearly knew how to get on my good side.” Should I tell him that Jake wanted to meet him? I didn’t want unnecessary pressure on either of us.

“And?”

“And, you know, all the normal stuff?”

“No, I don’t know. My brother’s in the Navy. He has been married since he was twenty-two. I don’t have sisters. So I don’t know what brothers with sisters are like.”

“Shit, your brother’s in the Navy?”

He chuckled. “Are you wondering if you got the wrong James?”

I tutted. “Of course not. It’s just that when you say stuff like that, I realize how much I need to know about you. I can hardly introduce you to my brother when I don’t even know that your brother is in the Navy.”