27. Rosie

Chapter 27

Rosie

Dylan gripped my hand tighter as he pushed aside the overgrown poplar and alder branches that hung low over the path, and stepped into a shadowed, crumbling graveyard. The grave markers were nearly impossible to read, but the ones I could make out were from at least three hundred years ago. Wild salmonberry bushes bursting with fruit extended over the graves, nearly swallowing them up.

It was clearly forgotten and neglected.

I still couldn’t believe Dad had showed up in town like that. He said he was getting bored, being holed up in my boat.

But what about me?

Shame ran through me. What a selfish, sour-lemon thought. Project Sweet Lemon meant I needed to think about my dad and his needs.

“I used to come here all the time when I was growing up,” Dylan said quietly, bringing my thoughts back to the present. He kept a hold of my hand as he led me farther into the graveyard. Sun drifted through the dappled leaves and looked like glitter atop Dylan’s hair and shoulders. “I know everyone thinks graveyards are creepy, but this one always felt peaceful to me. When I saw your painting that first morning, it reminded me of this.”

Wild flowers poked up through the long grass and surrounded a log, perfect for two people to sit on. It felt like something out of a fantasy movie—all we needed was magical music in the background and a couple of elves.

I sat beside Dylan, our legs and sides pressed together to both fit. He held my hand against his leg, and I wondered if he even realized it. He absently ran his thumb over my palm, and the action stole my breath.

“I used to come here when I needed to think.”

“What would you think about?” I was relieved for the subject change. I’d expected him to grill me about my dad, and I didn’t quite know how to answer.

“Everything. How I was going to go pro. What life would be like when I left Winterhaven. My crush on Mrs. Mabel.”

I laughed and bumped my shoulder into his. “Stop it. You lie.”

“I’m telling the honest truth.” He grinned mischievously, his face inches from mine. “The way she talked about Robert Frost freshman year? It was love at first sight.”

I just shook my head but couldn’t bite back my smile.

All this space in this hidden graveyard, and we were sitting in the tiniest fraction of it. But nothing could compel me to move. Not even the wisps of grass that tickled my ankles, or the rough bark pressing into my legs.

His expression turned more serious. “Mostly, I came here to stare up at the sky and dream. No one, except Shiloh, understood my drive to leave Winterhaven and play hockey. I was never the best player, but I worked the hardest, and I never stopped. Not when we were on breaks for college. Not when we made it pro. Every spare second I’ve had since I was thirteen has gone toward playing hockey.”

“Is this the first break you’ve ever really taken?”

“Yeah.”

It was no wonder he often acted like he had no idea what to do with himself. For most of his life, he’d worked nonstop, driven toward one constant goal, and now that it had been taken from him, he was lost.

A butterfly flitted around the colorful wild poppies near one of the graves, dipping in and out of the flowers. “It’s peaceful,” I said to him. “I had no idea this was here.”

“Me, Shiloh, and Hudson used to spend hours exploring Winterhaven when we were kids. We all had our favorite spots. Charlie loves the trails behind Main Street, and Lily loves the huge field of flowers near my parents’ house. They never understood why I’d love this graveyard so much.”

“What about Shiloh?”

“His favorite place was the pond in the forest near the back of our neighborhood. We’d swim there in the summer and play hockey there in the winter, and since he was in love with Lily, he’d always hope she’d come by and see him.”

“He loved Lily? Did she know?” I tried to keep the incredulity out of my voice. Bennett had loved Lily, too, so clearly she had redeeming qualities, even if I couldn’t see them.

“Nope. He’d always planned on coming back to Winterhaven after college and confessing his love, but then he met his wife, Amelia, and he fell instantly, head-over-heels in love with her. Lily had been a crush. Amelia was the love of his life.

“It’s probably for the best Lily never knew. Imagine losing someone you love like that—what it does to you.”

I studied our fingers linked together, his larger fingers alternating with my smaller ones. Had that been how Dad had felt? He’d also lost the love of his life—and he’d taken off. Was it irresponsibility and lack of good character, like my brothers claimed? Or was it grief? Did it have to be all of one thing or another? Humans were complex creatures, and as much as we wanted to put people into a labeled box, our emotions and reactions weren’t always that easy to understand.

Nuance was uncomfortable but necessary.

But also so, so hard.

I ran the tips of my fingers across Dylan’s scarred knuckles. They were each bisected with small, white lines from cuts that had healed over and over again. He caught his breath, and it took me back to earlier when I’d been exploring his face. I didn’t know what it was about Dylan that compelled me to touch him.

His voice was husky when he said, “This place reminds me of all the best parts of growing up in Winterhaven.”

“What were the best parts for you?”

“Summer nights running around with Shiloh and Hudson. The first snow fall. When the pond froze over. Playing hockey until I couldn’t feel my limbs from the cold.” He ran his free hand over the tops of the long grass surrounding us. “The quiet and slow pace here. I didn’t appreciate that enough.”

“It sounds idyllic.”

“Those parts were,” he said. We were silent for a while, long enough for me to rest my head on his shoulder and feel his deep, steady breaths. Long enough for my heart to steady and to want to talk. Really talk.

“Somehow you keep finding out all my secrets.” I tipped my head up to take in his expression. The end of his beard tickled against the tip of my nose, but I didn’t move.

Dylan did, though. He shifted his head to kiss the tip of my nose. “I like knowing your secrets.”

Whoa. I liked him knowing them too. Especially if it earned me butterfly-light kisses that sent my heart fluttering and my thoughts scattering.

If I didn’t move an inch, maybe he’d kiss me again. Or maybe if I moved an inch, he’d kiss me somewhere else. My lips were right there.

Sure, this relationship wasn’t real. But what did real mean anyway? Reality was probably a construct of the patriarchy created solely to keep me from kissing Dylan Savage in a crumbling graveyard. So rude, if you ask me.

Catocles would approve of this kiss, of that I was certain.

Dylan tucked my hair behind my ears and let his fingertips draw a tender line on the soft skin of my neck and along my jawbone. He cupped my cheek and drew the pad of his thumb over my lips. His heated gaze drew me in, and I leaned closer to him, until his warmth radiated into me.

“We should practice kissing,” I said after another beat passed and neither of us moved.

“Oh, should we?” I felt the puffs of air from his words caress my lips. His fingers twirled in the little hairs at the nape of my neck.

“Mmmhmm,” I said, suddenly unable to form words. “For … practice.” I was pretty sure I’d already said that, but my brain was mush.

“That makes sense.”

Oh, good.

He pressed into me, his lips agonizingly close, when he paused and said, “When do you think we’d have to kiss in public?”

“All the time,” I said impatiently. “It’s a thing now.”

“Kissing in public is a thing?”

“Yes. Winterhaven is all about public displays of affection. Trust me.”

A beat passed, and he whispered, “I do trust you.” His lips brushed mine just the barest amount, before he pulled back again. Blood rushed through my ears. “But I think I need a scenario where we’ll be glad we practiced kissing.”

I huffed in frustration. “So that it’s clear we’re a real couple.”

“A fake couple that’s real.”

“Exactly.”

He nodded. “Okay, that makes sense.” His eyes twinkled with mischief as he ran his nose along my cheekbone. His bottom lip touched my top lip, and I let out a whimper as he pulled back again.

“Like at the restaurant or—”

I clutched a fistful of his shirt and yanked him down to me, pressing my lips to his before he could finish. Dylan immediately tangled his fingers in the back of my hair and pulled me even closer to him. Sparks flew behind my closed eyes as he tugged me onto his lap and kept kissing me.

Oh my gosh.

I was kissing Dylan Savage.

It was a wild field of sensation. The softness of his beard against my chin and the tips of his hair in between my fingers. His masculine scent that twisted and twirled around me as I breathed him in. How his hand trailed a fiery line down my back to grip my waist and hold me in place (as if I ever wanted to move again.)

His kissing slowed, and he pulled back, his forehead pressed against mine, both of us out of breath. The sounds of wind rustling through the reeds and birds chirping in the trees around us slowly came back to me. I blinked, and I was once again back in a graveyard in Winterhaven.

Sitting on Dylan’s lap.

I kept my arms tight around his neck. I had no intention of moving anytime soon. “I think we need to practice more,” I informed him.

“Yeah, we do.” He grimaced.

Wait. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Just … I’d give it a four.”

I gasped and pulled back from him, but his arms looped around my waist held me in place. “Are you rating my kissing?” My voice was a little shriller than I intended it to be near the end there.

He tilted his head to the side way too innocently. “I thought that’s what the whole point was.”

“No. My kissing is at least an eight.”

“It’s impossible to rate your own kissing. You’re going to have to take my word for it.”

I smacked at his hands, and he released me. I stood and faced him, my hands on my hips. His eyes were alight with amusement.

“That was definitely a nine.”

He shook his head grimly. “I’m afraid not.”

“Kiss me again,” I ordered him.

He laughed, and stood, towering over me. “I’m kind of hungry.”

“Dylan!”

He looped an arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“We’ll have plenty of opportunities to kiss in all the public places you want to kiss in.”

I huffed through my nose, and he laughed again. “Come on. We have plenty of time to work on your kissing technique. Let’s go get some pizza before it’s all gone.”

I lightly pinched his side as he continued to chuckle but let him lead me from his graveyard hideout and toward the center of town.

“It was totally a ten,” I grumbled.