Chapter 30

thirty

ALEX

I woke up before dawn. For most of the night, I’d been tossing and turning, thinking about Dylan and the kiss we shared. It made me want a whole lot of things I’d never had, and that scared me more than falling in love.

But today was another day. I didn’t know how Dylan felt or if he wanted to stay in Boulder. What if he thought I’d taken advantage of him? Did he feel safe with me or had I ruined any chance of getting to know him? No matter which way I looked at it, I’d made a big mistake.

Instead of going downstairs, I read the report I printed off yesterday. I needed to bury myself in lines of code, focus on something other than the silky softness of Dylan’s mouth as he kissed me within an inch of my sanity.

Argh. Stop thinking about him. I had less than a week to find the issue with my program. Even if my brain cells weren’t cooperating, I had to solve the mystery of the failing software. Reaching across the bed, I picked up my laptop. The problem must be in the interface between the different processes. But where ?

Three hours later, I gave up searching for the answer. I jumped in the shower, threw on some clothes and, by nine-thirty, I was sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast. Not bad for someone whose eyeballs felt like roadkill.

Dylan’s shoes echoed on the stairs.

The granola in my mouth turned to sawdust. I didn’t know what to say to him, how last night would affect our relationship. Or even if we had a relationship.

I liked him a lot. More than liked him. He was intelligent, talented, and more patient than I’d ever been. And right now—stunningly beautiful.

My mouth dropped open. “You’re wearing a suit.”

Dylan stopped in the doorway. His eyes widened and a soft blush filled his cheeks. “Steve bought the jacket and tie for me last year. I thought if we’re going with a Christmas-themed lunch, I might as well wear it.”

The red velvet jacket hugged Dylan’s wide shoulders like a second skin. His tie, covered in Christmas trees, looked cute against the white shirt.

“You look amazing.”

Dylan’s gaze collided with mine.

I could kick myself. Telling Dylan he was amazing might make him feel uncomfortable, and that was the last thing I wanted. I cleared my throat and tried again. “You haven’t worn anything that’s red. The color suits you.”

“I prefer dark colors for work.” Dylan quickly moved around the kitchen, then sat at the table, placing a bowl of granola and yogurt in front of him. “When I was little, I loved wearing bright colors. I’d muck out the barn and help Dad move the cattle in my favorite bright pink or purple T-shirts. We spent a lot of time together, fixing the tractors and anything else that didn’t work.”

Imagining a much younger version of Dylan on a ranch made me smile. “Your dad must have enjoyed your company.”

“I enjoyed his, too. Luke always wanted to play with his toy dinosaurs and Steve copied Luke. Later on, the kids at school picked on me when they saw what I was wearing. I didn’t wear bright colors after that.” Dylan dipped his spoon into his granola. “Where do you want to start this morning?”

I frowned. “On the interface that links the last two processes together. Do you want to talk about last night?”

Dylan’s jaw stopped moving. He finished what was in his mouth, then nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. I’m not proud of what happened.”

The bubble of hope inside my chest burst.

“You’re my client. I’m supposed to help you fix your program, not…” He cleared his throat. “It’ll be better for everyone if I stay in Boulder. I can still help. It’ll mean a few phone calls and a lot of?—”

“No.”

Dylan’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean, no?”

“We’re close to fixing the code. Working together has sped up the process. If you’re in Boulder, it’ll make it harder to evaluate the reports we’re running and make changes to the program.”

“We could use video conference calls or if it was really important, I could drive back here.”

“It wouldn’t be the same.”

Dylan’s spoon banged against the side of his bowl. “I’m trying to protect both of us.”

I knew what he was doing. “We’re adults. We can work together, finish the project, then see what happens after that.” When Dylan still seemed uncertain, I added, “We could be finished in the next day or two.”

Dylan looked at his breakfast.

I’d love to know what was going through his mind.

“Okay,” Dylan said softly. “We’ll work together until your deadline or until we find the fault. But no more kissing.”

Even though I wanted to fist pump the air, I kept my expression neutral. We were working against the clock, but at least we were doing it together. We’d have all the time in the world to plan the next part of our lives when this was over.