Loving You (The Bridesmaids Club Book 2) (5 page)

She widened her smile. “Hi. Can you tell me if Dylan Bayliss is still at work?”

“Who would you be, ma’am?”

At least he had manners, even if his face hadn’t twitched one smile muscle. “I’m Annie O’Leary. I work at Angel Wings Café.”

“You work with Tess?”

“You know, Tess?”

The guard nodded. “She helped my cousin with some bridesmaids’ dresses.”

Annie beamed at the guard. She didn’t care if he didn’t smile back. “That’s me, too. We started The Bridesmaids Club. What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Connie. Connie Thompson, before she got married.”

Annie sighed. Connie’s wedding had been happy and sad at the same time. Connie’s mom had died from cancer not long after the wedding. Even though it had been a terrible time, everyone had been so grateful that they had special memories of the last time they’d been together.

“It was a beautiful wedding,” Annie said.

The guard cleared his throat and turned toward a desk. “I’ll call through to the office. You’ll need to wait here.”

Annie nodded. She wasn’t sure how fast the guard thought she could move, but it wouldn’t have been as fast as his ability to call for reinforcements. She’d never really thought about what they stored here. It must have been pretty important given the amount of effort that went into keeping people out of the building.

She got off her bike and wheeled it closer to the door of the guard’s station. Mr. Smiley turned and frowned at her, so Annie took a small step backward, but not before she saw exactly how many cameras he was monitoring. Two computer screens each showed four different views of the fence around the outside of the building. That was eight cameras. Eight reasons why she was glad she’d come to the main entrance and not tried to find a side door somewhere.

“Mr. Bayliss will meet you in the main reception area, Ms. O’Leary.” The guard pointed across the yard to the biggest entrance doors Annie had ever seen. “He’ll be waiting behind those doors. You’ll need to leave your bike outside. I’ll make sure it doesn’t go missing.”

Annie blinked when Mr. Smiley’s lips actually moved. Before he lost his sudden sense of humor, she jumped on her bike and pedaled across the asphalt parking lot. She guessed there probably weren’t too many times when he had to guard a ten-year-old bicycle.

She leaned her bike against the red brick exterior and turned back to the guard. He lifted his hand and waved, so she waved back and went inside. The huge glass doors slid open silently, then closed behind her.

Dylan’s boss didn’t believe in budget renovations. A beautiful walnut staircase had been polished to a fine sheen. The reception desk, made from some kind of marble, dominated one wall. She could have been looking at an expensive hotel lobby, or an exclusive resort. Definitely not the reception area of a security company.

Annie glanced at the sparkling chandelier above the staircase. It was opulent, exquisite and a glamorous addition to the building. She’d thought all of the talk about what was going on inside the old flour mill was pure make-believe. John Fletcher had been turned into a modern day Howard Hughes by half the town, a mystery man hidden behind the walls of his empire. She was beginning to think that what she’d heard wasn’t far from the truth.

“Annie?” Dylan walked toward her with a frown on his face. “Is everything okay?”

She looked at the suit he was wearing. The deep blue fabric clung to his wide shoulders and narrow hips like a second skin. A very expensive second skin. “You changed clothes?”

Dylan looked down at his suit. “I had a business meeting. Jeans and a t-shirt wouldn’t have worked. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…” She looked at the chandelier, tried to find something that would focus her brain on why she was here. “I was thinking about what you said earlier, about choosing paint for your living room. I’ll help you.”

“But I don’t know if I’m going to stay there.”

She took a deep breath. “I could go with you when you look at houses? We could figure out what you want, narrow your search.” Dylan was making her nervous. He stood perfectly still, watching her face with an intensity she found unsettling. “If you don’t want my help, just tell me. I’ve got a habit of getting involved in things that aren’t my business. I like helping people. I could help you.”

Annie’s clasped her hands in front of her. When she got nervous, she tended to flick her hands around like a demented bird. Her ex-husband had called it a nervous twitch, she preferred to say she had expressive body language.

Dylan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Okay.”

Annie waited for him to say something else. Nothing happened. “Well, then. Okay, it is. When do you want me to come to your house?”

“My house?”

“I can bring some color samples around. We could look at some options in case you decide to stay. After we’ve done that we could look online and find out what houses are for sale.”

“You’re organized.” Dylan said those two words like she had a disease.

Annie felt the heat of a blush warm her face. “Am I going too fast? I have a habit of that, too.”

“I don’t mind. I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I thought about it. I figured you wouldn’t have asked unless you were desperate…”

Dylan’s eyebrows rose about a foot off his face.

“…not that I think you’re desperate or anything. Because I don’t. I think you’re very capable and intelligent and…” Annie shut her mouth before she got herself into more trouble.

“Do you want to come around tomorrow night?”

“Umm, okay. I’ve got bowling practice at five-thirty. I could be at your place by seven?”

“Seven works. Do you need dinner or anything?”

Annie shook her head. “I’ll grab something before I go to the bowling alley.” She held her hand out, then dropped it when she realized what she’d done. “I guess I’ll just…I’ll go.”

Dylan uncrossed his arms and stuck a hand out toward her.

She got such a shock that she stared at his hand for a split second before her own fingers clasped his. “It’s a deal, then. Tomorrow night at seven.”

Their handshake was over before it began, but the feel of Dylan’s fingers on her skin stayed with her all the way to her bike. And when he watched her pedal out of the parking lot, she felt the same zing of chemistry between her shoulder blades.

Dylan Bayliss was a mystery, and her reaction to him was an even greater mystery. After five years of not wanting to date anyone, she was ready to find someone special. But it wouldn’t be Dylan. He might have sent her zing rating off the meter, but he scared her senseless. When she was ready, the man in question would be undemanding, safe and happy.

Everything Dylan Bayliss wasn’t.

Chapter Three

Dylan glanced at the clock on the wall in his living room. It was seven o’clock. Annie would be here soon. He’d made sure the dishes were done, the floors were vacuumed and everything looked as good as it was going to get. He’d even unpacked another box and found some books he’d thought he’d lost.

The evening sun filled the room with a soft pink glow. It could have been color coordinated to match his orange walls and pink curtains. Maybe that’s where the owners had found their inspiration for their odd color choice. Or maybe the curtains and paint had been on sale.

He took a deep breath. His mind was rambling, filling in the waiting with fluffy nonsense that didn’t make any difference. Annie would help him choose a paint color, look at a couple of websites and then leave. He knew she was uncomfortable around him. She’d practically run out the door of Fletcher Security after they’d shaken hands.

If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her small hand inside his. She wasn’t the tallest woman he’d ever met, but she was perfectly formed. From the dusting of freckles across her nose, to the tips of the purple sneakers she liked wearing, Annie O’Leary was your typical girl next door. She was wholesome, uncomplicated and far too trusting to spend time with him.

She was the last person he should ask to help him with his touching issue, but the first person he’d thought of. The only person he’d thought of.

The doorbell rang and he jumped out of the sofa. He wiped his hands down the sides of his jeans and took another deep breath before opening the door. Annie stared at him. Her blue eyes looked as wary as he felt.

“I was worried you might have gotten lost.” He cringed at his lame greeting. He could have simply said, ‘hello’. Normal people who had normal relationships said hello.

“Logan came to see Tess this afternoon. I asked him for directions.”

It was worse than Dylan thought. Logan would put two and two together and come up with ten. “Did he tell you to stay away from me?”

“He said you’re perfectly safe.” Her lips tilted into a grin. “I’m supposed to cook you apple and cinnamon pancakes if you start getting grumpy.”

Jeez. Logan made him sound like a pushover for food. “I’m a grump free zone tonight.”

“Good. Do you want me to come inside?”

Dylan stepped out of the doorway and collided with a small table. The framed photo of his sisters wobbled on the wooden surface. He grabbed the picture before it hit the floor and made him feel like a complete idiot.

Annie ignored the klutz in front of her. She stepped into the hallway and looked around. “I like your home.”

“It’s mostly an American bungalow design with a nineteen eighties extension out the back.” He looked at her green jacket and didn’t know whether to ask her if she wanted him to hang it up. This woman-in-his-house thing was really stressing him out.

“Is it okay if I go through to the living room?”

If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Annie O’Leary knew exactly how he felt. She was leading him in baby steps through what needed to be done. And looking at the living room walls seemed like an obvious place to start. After coming inside.

He pointed toward a door on the right-hand side of the hallway. “Sure. Go through there.”

He followed Annie, grabbing hold of her jacket when she passed it to him. She left her bag beside the coffee table and walked across to the French doors. “What an amazing view.”

He hung her jacket over the back of a chair and followed her gaze. “It’s even better in daylight. The mountains roll into forever out here.”

Annie smiled. “I didn’t know there was a poet buried inside you.”

Dylan looked at the mountains, embarrassed for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand.

Annie walked over to one of his pink curtains and tilted her head to the side. “These aren’t so bad. I can see why you want to keep them.” She looked around the room, weighing up what she saw, with what could be.

“Let’s get started.” Annie’s gaze did a final sweep of the room. “I brought some paint charts with me. Tell me what you do in this room.”

“Is that a trick question?”

Annie unzipped her bag and pulled out a handful of brochures, something that looked like a color wheel and a bag of fudge. “No trick involved. What do you do in here?”

“The same as everyone else. I watch TV, listen to music, read books.” He glanced down at the bag of fudge. It was from a local company.

Annie caught him peering at the bag. “It’s wild huckleberry fudge. Try it.”

She pushed the bag closer. Sugary fudge was the last thing he needed at seven o’clock at night. He’d be awake half the night, sleeping even less than he normally did. He looked at the bag again. They were only small pieces, and they had fruit in them. The huckleberries had to offset some of the sugar.

“It’s the best fudge I’ve ever tasted. The store has the yummiest chocolate treats, too. Have you ever been to the Sweet and Salty Candy Store?”

Dylan shook his head. “I try and keep away from sugar.”

Annie opened the bag and held the fudge toward him. “I guarantee that once you taste this, you’ll be visiting the store next time you’re in town.”

That’s what Dylan was worried about. He could stay away from coffee, keep his red meat to a minimum and exercise like crazy. But wave something sweet under his nose and he was a goner.

Annie took a piece of fudge out of the bag and bit into it. “Yum. Are you sure you don’t want a piece?”

“Why didn’t you bring fruit or something?”

Annie laughed. “I only take fruit to people who are sick. Go on, one small square won’t hurt you.”

She passed him the bag. He chose the smallest piece of fudge he could find and bit into it. The soft, fruity confectionery melted in his mouth. Annie was right. It was the best fudge he’d ever tasted.

“I’m leading you astray, aren’t I?”

Dylan looked down at the bag. “Only if you keep offering me more fudge.” He sighed as he handed her back the bag. “I’m now officially a sugar-free zone for the rest of the night.”

Annie dropped the fudge into her bag and opened the paint samples. “It’s not the best time to look at colors, but it will give me an idea of what you like. If you end up buying another home, you can use what you’ve learned to choose your own colors.”

Her logic made sense to him, so he sat beside her and waited to be dazzled by her brilliance.