Chapter 21

21

He had actually said he wanted her, wanted to carry her off—and it had made her feel all hot inside in an instant. Like maybe she'd wanted him to do just that, too?

Meyra did the only thing she really could. She retreated to her room. Right through the family kitchen.

"Well, you look a bit confused," someone said when she just stood there in the kitchen for a minute, breathing heavily. "What happened to you?"

Meyra stared at her cousin. Dylan was there, head tilted to one side, studying Meyra. "Brandt Barratt kissed me. Again. In the lobby. And said he'd waited long enough. That he wanted to just carry me away and do things to me."

"Okay, seriously hot, muscled, and sexy super-rich Texas dude kissed you and what—promised?—to carry you away for really fun things? And you are in here instead of trying to lure him upstairs to seduce him? Instead of jumping into his beautiful arms and being willfully carried away? Right now? Which…that man is so worth seducing, even without the money. I suspect money would really just complicate things even more. The next man I seduce is going to be dirt poor, I've decided. Well, mostly just to thwart my father. I've told him I'm going to marry a dirt farmer and have six kids and plant tomatoes for a living, and that's it. Those are my life ambitions, whether he likes them or not. I don't think he was amused. Now, what are you going to do about Mr. Brandt Barratt?"

Sometimes Dylan said things that just didn't make much sense. But other people laughed at her a lot. Dylan was really funny—when Meyra understood what she meant by things. But Dylan was smart, and she understood people, and she always listened when Meyra talked. And helped her figure things out. "I'm not sure."

"First, did you want him to kiss you? That's kind of a big thing. Otherwise, I think we can have Sage arrest him."

"It surprised me. But he didn't hurt me or anything." Want him to kiss her? Maybe she had? She had certainly been thinking about what would happen if he did—for days. Maybe she had been playing Avoid Brandt Barratt like his sister had been playing Avoid the Viking with Gunnar?

Oh.

Now she understood what Powell had meant. If Gunnar had Brandt's sister this confused...

Dylan grinned at her. "But did you like it ?"

Meyra thought for a moment. Had she liked it? She'd liked kissing Calloway Grady before. She had definitely been attracted to him. She had talked to Miranda about how Calloway had made her feel. Everything she could think of—Miranda was a criminal profiler. She understood people far better than Meyra ever would. Miranda agreed with her—Meyra had definitely been attracted to Calloway.

But was she attracted to Brandt, too?

Her fingers started to tingle as she imagined pressing her hands against his chest like she had in the lobby. Brandt had felt very strong beneath his sweater. She'd wanted to touch him. She'd definitely wanted to see if his muscles were as nice as they'd felt. Again. She'd run her hands over his chest that last time. And her lips burned, when she thought of his pressed against hers that way.

She hadn't felt like this with Calloway. Not really.

Her cheeks got really hot. "It felt really different, Dylan. Not like kissing a guy has before. I didn't even remember we were in the lobby. His family had just left and then he was there. And he kissed me. It didn't last very long. Just one second—but it felt like so much longer."

"Did you want it to last longer?" Dylan just looked at her for a moment. "You know what happens next with a guy, right? I mean, you're not like a twenty-five-year-old virgin or anything?"

"Yikes. The things I hear around this place."

Meyra turned. Daisy was there. Her closest friend in the world. "Brandt kissed me. Again. He said he has been waiting for years. And he wasn't waiting any longer. He has a plan. And I kind of…really liked it when he did. And, no, Dylan, I am not a virgin."

"Hallelujah. Around this place, you just never know. I mean, I know Devvie isn't a virgin. We, uh, really liked the boys who lived next door for a while there. They were twenty-one and twenty-three at the time, and she was eighteen, and I was twenty, and well—things happened. But Dahlia and Dorie, totally clueless. But you two are older than I am, so…" Dylan liked to talk. A lot. She was also really, really smart, like Charlotte. Like genius smart and everything.

People just didn't always realize that, Meyra thought.

"No. I am not a virgin," Meyra told her. She was used to this kind of talking. Her sisters and her cousins had talked this way forever, with their friends, too. "And I have dated other guys before, too. I just…it felt really different when Brandt kissed me. But it didn't last very long, and it could have been something I imagined. But he did say he was thinking about…carrying me away or something."

"How utterly romantic," Daisy said, sighing. Then she frowned. "Or…maybe it's just barbaric, instead? I guess it just depends, right? On context? Reception? Whether you really want to be carried off and everything? Guys can be so confusing."

No kidding.

"Possibly. I think this calls for an experiment," Dylan said.

"What kind?" Meyra wasn't sure she wanted to know, actually. Not with that look in Dylan's eyes.

"Kiss him again! Just go right up to him and lay one on him. I mean, this dude says he has a plan for you ? Well, is that something you want to just be a passive participant in? Not me."

"I would definitely not want to be passive participating with that gorgeous man, either," Daisy said. She grinned, looking like Dylan for just a moment. They did resemble each other a great deal. "I'd be all in if he wanted to carry me away in an all hot, sexy captor kind of way. He has cousins, right? Or his brothers were definitely gorgeous men. Dylan's right. If he has a plan for you, what do you think it is?"

"Getting her naked as fast as he possibly can, maybe?" Dylan asked. "That would be a lot of fun, Mey. Go for it. You're off the clock, right? Sneak up there and have some fun."

"It takes a bit more planning to seduce a man like Brandt than that," Daisy said. "And…let's talk about this so-called plan, anyway . I mean, what exactly did he say? Word for word."

"I don't exactly remember. I think I was shocked." Meyra thought about his words for a moment as Daisy grabbed cookies out of the cabinet and Dylan pulled juice from the refrigerator. "He said he has waited for years. Since he realized I was older than he thought. And he isn't going to wait any longer, and he has a plan. "

"The way I see it," Daisy said, dropping the cookies to the table. "You have two real options. You can let him follow this plan for you—without your getting a chance to say what happens. Or you can…come up with a counterplan of your own."

"But how would I do that? I don't even know what I want to happen next. I never…even thought about him that way. Until…recently."

Her cousins just blinked at her like she was crazy. Dylan looked at Daisy. "Is she serious?"

"She is. As far as she's concerned, Brandt was just her sister Marin's friend. Although how she could have missed how…utterly delicious he is, I'm not sure. Of course, she has spent most of the last two years in the kitchens, and he's been in and out of the county for that whole time. He'd be gone sometimes for weeks."

"Out of sight, out of mind, maybe?" Dylan was looking at her like Meyra was an alien from a different planet or something. "I mean, how could you forget a man like him ? He so beats Cowboy Truckie Tyler by a million miles."

Dylan had a war going on with her sister Dusty's fiancé's brother, Fletcher Tyler. Dylan had stolen his new truck—so Meyra half understood, but she had been rescuing Devaney from a mad killer, so it was kind of justified in Meyra's opinion. "I like Fletcher. He is really nice. And he did protect me from that evil Brad."

"Who was that?"

"The guy who tried to kill Dusty and Nikki that night," Daisy told her. "He ran them off the road, and Dusty was hurt, and Slater Davis carried her to help. Brad was Hunter Clark's assistant."

"Okay. I think I remember reading something about that. But how was Truckie heroic? Because I just don't believe that."

"He was out there on Tyler Mountain helping look for Nikki, but Meyra's talking about earlier."

"Brad got into the family wing here. He wanted Meyra to spend some time alone with him," Daisy said. "Whether Meyra agreed or not."

"I ran out into the lobby, and Fletcher was there. He sat with me."

"Oh, so he didn't go out of his way to rescue you or anything. That makes more sense. He was just there like a rather large…wall?" Dylan nodded. "Okay, now, back to the super-sexy Brandt Barratt. Far more interesting subject than Truckie."

"I don't know what to do. For real." Wasn't that the whole problem? She had no clue what to do next. Every time she got close to him, everything just got even more and more complicated.

"Do you want to get naked with him? Just get naked with him? Or do you want to go out on dates with him, see if he is the guy you want to marry, spend forever with, make six green-eyed babies with, that kind of thing?" Dylan asked.

"How does a woman even know how to answer a question like that?" Daisy asked. "I mean, look at Darcey and Martin. Those two are obviously meant for one another, yet the walls catch fire whenever they are nearby. Not in a good way."

"Because they are slinging fireballs at each other with their eyes," Dylan said, nodding. "I have noticed. I made the mistake once of saying how delicious that man is. I thought Darcey was going to scorch me from head to toe. She's scary."

"But they completely despise each other," Meyra said. She wasn't certain they should be together at all. "People who don't like each other shouldn't be together."

"In general, no," Dylan told her. "But haven't you ever heard of enemies-to-lovers romances? Like when there is so much passion between two people that it just comes out in weird ways? It's a thing. It's a thing."

"Like you and Truckie Tyler?" Daisy asked. Meyra had been thinking the same thing. "Things are certainly passionate between you two. Really hard to miss."

"Nonsense. That would never happen, anyway. Besides, while he is decently good looking—I don't think there is a Tyler around here who isn't. I think they were genetically modified to look like that, really—the guy is a jerk who sees me as just a kid." Dylan looked at them both for a minute. Meyra got the feeling her cousin had a secret she was thinking about sharing.

"Dylan, what's going on with you?" Meyra asked.

"I have a date. A real one. With a guy just as hot as Brandt Barratt. Tomorrow night, actually. I have never really had real dates, you know. At least not when I am not sneaking around behind Dad's back and everything."

"Who with?" Meyra tried to think about all the men she had seen lately who Dylan would have encountered. Who would be even close to as hot as Brandt. "Jack Masterson?"

Daisy's hand jerked. "You are going out with Jack?"

Dylan shook her head. "No. Wonkus McBubbles asked me if I'd like to have dinner with him. Quade Davis. Tomorrow. I'm not exactly certain how it happened. It just sort of did."

"Did you ask him—or did he ask you?" Daisy asked.

"He asked me. But I had talked to him first. We're supposed to talk to the guests, right? Ask them if they need anything or are okay?"

"Yes. Somewhat," Daisy passed out more cookies. Meyra normally didn't eat prepackaged, but tonight she needed junk food. She had no clue where her chips had ended up, either. "Agreeing to go on dates with them, though, is seriously against Grandma's rules. Not that most of us haven't done it , but…"

"Well, after those two women and those little girls from Texas left, Quade was in the hallway by the dining room, and he just looked a little sad. So I asked him if he needed anything. And next thing I knew, I was agreeing to go out with him tomorrow night. To that really nice place in Pinedale. Where you wear dresses and everything. Except…I don't even own a dress. Let alone shoes to wear with it. Where am I even going to find one so short notice? One I won't freeze in, either?"

Okay, so Dylan looked like she was going to panic right now. That was not good. Dylan didn't exactly panic. Not her.

"Charlotte's closet is probably the place we should start first," Daisy said, looking at Dylan like she was studying her or something. Daisy had that look that said she knew what to do and was going to do it. No matter what. Daisy could be a little stubborn sometimes.

"I don't think she'll want me to borrow her stuff. I am not exactly her fave cousin or anything." That was probably true. Charlotte and Dylan weren't getting along well. Meyra hadn't exactly missed that. Dylan really didn't like Fletcher, and, well, Charlotte had been in love with him before. And Charlotte really hadn't had a chance to get to know Dylan or anything like the rest of them had.

"But she's the closest in size. And has thousands of dresses in there," Daisy said. "She'll cope just fine. Let's go find her. Tell her what's going on. She has to be around here somewhere. She sort of pops up randomly in various places. You just turn around, and there is a Charlotte creature. Bam, right out of nowhere. It's actually kind of creepy, really, when you think about it."

Well, yes, it was. Meyra had noticed it before.

"But what about Meyra's problem?" Dylan asked.

"Well, Charlotte is besties with his twin sister. She's known Brandt for a long time. If anyone can help Meyra figure this out—it'll be Charlotte. Let's go."

Just like that, Meyra and Dylan and Daisy ended up searching the hotel for Charlotte.

But Charlotte was really hard to find sometimes. She had always been that way, able to disappear when she wanted. Much better than Meyra ever could. Probably because sometimes Charlotte broke the rules and went places they'd been told not to when they'd been kids.

They finally found Charlotte in the game room—playing pool with Fletcher. Not exactly what Meyra—and definitely not Dylan—really wanted right now.

"What are you three up to?" Charlotte asked them suspiciously. Well, Charlotte worked in law enforcement when she wasn't making movies with Rowland Bowles. Suspicious was part of Charlotte's makeup. Especially where Dylan was concerned. That worried Meyra a little. Dylan was kind of sensitive sometimes, even if people didn't always realize that. She'd hate for Charlotte to hurt her somehow and them never like each other or anything. Maybe she should tell Charlotte that, give her a heads-up. Charlotte wouldn't ever want to hurt someone—she was sensitive, too. "You are definitely, obviously up to something."

"We need access to your closets," Daisy told her. "Like fast."

"Okay, why? What's going on?"

"One of us has a hot date at that new, really fancy place in Pinedale with a famous movie star tomorrow night," Daisy said. "And well, you have the best clothes. You or Darcey, but Darcey's won't fit."

"None of you three fit in my dresses, except?—"

"Dylan will need to borrow shoes, too," Meyra said. Why waste time? No one else in the family had feet as small as Dylan's.

"You? You're going out on a date tomorrow?" Fletcher asked. It was kind of a mean question, Meyra thought. He did like to say stuff to Dylan that he probably shouldn't. "Really?"

"Don't act so shocked," Dylan glared at him. "I am old enough to date, you know, as long as I am in by curfew. And behave myself—it's the last part I am having so much trouble with."

"Which actor? That might determine the best dress," Charlotte said, hitting Fletcher on the chest and glaring at him, too.

"Quade Davis, actually. We met here in the inn. And he asked me if I'd like to go out to dinner in Pinedale with him. And talk," Dylan said. She crossed her arms and glared at Fletcher. Well, Daisy was glaring at him, too. And he shouldn't be so mean to Dylan all the time. "I said yes. But…I don't even own a dress, Char. And not the right kind of shoes. Which I definitely can't wear these shoes on a date with…him. Talk about the irony. I really hope he didn't look down or anything."

Meyra looked down. Dylan was wearing her Wonkus McBubbles tennis shoes that she said the twins Devaney and Dahlia had ordered her for her birthday. That would have been kind of funny, really. Quade probably would have gotten a kick out of it. He had a quirky sense of humor, too. Kind of like Dylan, actually.

"You have no business going out with Quade Davis," Fletcher told Dylan. He was standing over her with his own arms crossed. He was glaring down at her again. He was six three or six four and really muscled. He was very attractive—Meyra had always thought so. But he looked really big and intimidating next to little Dylan like that.

Meyra half thought Dylan was afraid of Fletcher. She didn't know why she thought that, maybe the way Dylan looked at him when she didn't think anyone was watching. Dylan seemed really nervous right now. And she looked a little afraid. She was stepping back, too. Dylan did that when she was nervous sometimes. Meyra had seen it before.

"What is it any business of yours?" Dylan asked him.

"He's worlds more sophisticated than you. He's been playing the game since you were practically in diapers."

"Truckie, Quade is twenty-eight. I am twenty-three now. That is only five years' difference. Are you aware there are almost eight between my sister and your brother and they boink each other just fine? Like…constantly boink each other!"

Meyra winced. Dylan did like to say outrageous things—especially to Fletcher. But it was true—Ben and Dusty were in the "newlywed" stage, Miranda said. Even though they weren't married yet, they disappeared together all the time.

"And there are eight between you and I, too; what does that have to do with Quade Davis? The guy has way more experience than you. And wasn't he just engaged six months ago?"

"He was. But she died, actually. From a sudden heart attack. I really doubt the guy wants anything serious right now, but so what if he does? I like him. And in case you missed the memo—you are not in charge of me at all," Dylan told him. "Not my father, remember? You don't even look like his identical twin, dude! Back off."

"She has a point. Dylan is old enough to make her own choices about who she might potentially boink, Fletch," Daisy said. "Besides, it's not like she's a virgin or anything."

Had Daisy really just said that? In front of a guy?

Fletcher jerked around in a really weird way. "I don't even want to know that."

"What? Did we shock you?" Dylan asked, grinning up at him. She was really small—especially next to Fletcher. "I am not a virgin, Truckie. Haven't been for years. Neither are Daisy or Meyra, and we all know Charlotte isn't. Charlotte has really bad taste in the guys she boinks. Everyone can see that. So what's the big deal if I go out with Quade tomorrow night, followed by one of his brothers the next night? And then the third brother the night after that? You don't get a say."

"They are going to argue again," Meyra said to Daisy. "And we still haven't answered my problem."

"What is going on?" Charlotte asked. "Mey? I just can't keep up around here lately."

"Brandt Barratt kissed her and said he has waited long enough," Dylan said, turning away from Fletcher. "Now she has to decide what she wants to do next. He has also threatened, promised?—to carry her off somewhere and do wicked, wicked things to her. I suspect boinking may be involved, actually. We're trying to figure out what she wants to do next. So we can plan her next move instead. I think she should go upstairs and seduce him before he can carry her off and everything, but Daisy thinks she needs a better plan first. Meyra's still trying to decide. I vote for the carrying-off part. Sounds wicked fun, honestly."

"Heaven help me, you three need keepers," Fletcher muttered beneath his breath. "Or jailers."

"When did this happen?" Charlotte asked.

"Probably about the same time Dylan was capturing Quade in the hallway from the dining room," Daisy said. "Apparently, life is getting really interesting around here lately. I mean, we did have a brawl on the front steps."

"Gunnar and McKellen will pay to replace the rocking chair they broke," Charlotte said, snickering. "And it was really fun to watch. I'm just not so sure Heather was all that thrilled that it happened. Powell certainly wasn't."

"I liked Heather. She was really nice," Meyra said. "And I got to hold her baby again."

"So what are you going to do about Brandt? I was waiting for him to finally actually do something about you," Charlotte said.

"Why?" Meyra thought her cousin was really weird sometimes. Charlotte always had been a bit different from the rest of them.

Well, so was Dylan, for that matter. And maybe Miranda. And Marin. And Darcey…and all the rest. Maybe they all were unique in their own ways? They were Talleys, after all.

"The guy has been hot for you for as long as I have known him, Mey. I was just waiting for you to catch on before I said anything." Charlotte looked at Fletcher and handed him the pool stick. "Go home, you butthead. Think about how rude you just were to my little baby cousin. When she really didn't deserve it…this time. I'll talk to you later. Ladies, I think this calls for a Talley girl meeting. My suite. Grab whoever you can. Uh, it won't be Dusty. Ben carried her away an hour ago. Like, literally. Scooped her up and carried her right out the front doors in front of everyone. I'm not going to think about what they are doing now. Probably the same thing Brandt wants to do with Meyra, actually. Ben had a look in his eyes that gives a woman the shivers."

"He is just so pretty. So hero-y," Dylan said, sighing. "And his brother Gil is really hot and very sexy, too. Where did their parents go wrong with this one, you think?"

Daisy and Meyra both looked at Fletcher. She studied him for a moment. Meyra thought Dylan was crazy—Fletcher was very hot and beautiful and sexy. Not as hot and beautiful and sexy as Brandt, but still. Then again, he always was a little too rude with Dylan. Maybe Dylan did think he was a troll or something?

"Will you four all quit looking at me like that?" Fletcher asked after they stared at him for a moment.

"I think we'll have to ask Dusty that very question. Later," Daisy said. "Much later. Right now—we need to figure out what you are going to wear when you seduce Quade and get him out of his clothes. That is a seriously hot man, too. Seriously hot. Hot guys are everywhere in Masterson lately. I'm ready for one to come knocking on my door, too. Could someone please send that message on to the Fates or something?"

"But what am I going to do about Brandt Barratt and his plan?" Meyra asked.

"It's simple, really," Dylan told her, turning her back to Fletcher. Fletcher was still just glaring down at her. "You come up with a Seducing Brandt Barratt Plan of your own. And then…go get him. Life is short. Go for the man you want. Get him naked and have lots of fun. I wouldn't wait around."

"We'll be here watching, taking notes. For when the time comes for the rest of us to seduce our men," Daisy said. "We'll be watching Dylan and Quade tomorrow night, too."

"You are all really weird sometimes, did you know that? Really weird." But Meyra wouldn't have them any other way.

"Let's go. Char's closet is waiting," Daisy said, leading the way. "This is going to be fun. I know she has one dress cut clear to the navel, Dylan."

"I don't have enough boobies for a dress like that. That might be a problem." Dylan said, looking straight down.

Well, Dylan was really flat-chested. But so was Charlotte, and she wasn't that much bigger than Dylan. They could probably make the dress fit. Somehow.

"We'll just use a push-up bra," Charlotte said. "And tape. I'll show you how—we can probably double those little puppies if we're strategic about it."

Of course, Charlotte would know how to make it work.

"Wicked. This is going to be fun. Dress-up-Dylan time! With almost real boobies."

"Jailers. Definitely jailers. It's the only answer."

"Love you, too, Truckie, love you, too."

People around here were so weird sometimes.