Chapter 14

14

Two weeks. He had made it to two long weeks. It had been damned hard. Ever since that little tank top, every time he looked at her, he wondered…what she was wearing under her T-shirts, her overalls, her sweatshirts, her pajamas. Which how he could find pajamas covered with aliens or turtles or Wonkus McBubbles or whatever else she was wearing sexy was beyond Fletcher’s understanding.

It just got worse when she bent over in front of him, or leaned down to grab something, or twisted, or sat at the table and just breathed.

He was becoming ridiculous. It had been too long since he had been involved with a woman. That was what it had to be. Just a cold, dry spell.

And he was one hundred percent convinced Dylan didn’t have a clue what she was doing to him now. She still treated him like a dense version of Ben. She liked Ben. Fletcher wasn’t so certain she liked Fletcher even a little bit more than she had when they’d first met.

He prowled around the kitchen while he waited for her. It was her day off. Finally. First one she’d had in too long. And it was all her family’s fault.

He had the thought of pulling the phone line out of the wall or hiding her cell or something. At least for the night. So one of those damned sisters of hers—any of the seven devil beasts—couldn’t call her just to ask a favor so they could go do something else. So they could go have something of a life outside of the inn, or the diner, or the catering branch of both. Never mind what she was doing outside of the inn or the diner.

Even little Dahlia had done that, calling Dylan after Dylan had worked an extra six hours at the diner one morning, after working a full shift the night before—to ask Dylan to drive her to the library in Sublette County. So she could look through their collection of archeology books and everything. In the snow. And cold. After working twenty hours in two days and still cleaning Fletcher’s damned house too.

Dylan had done it. To help her sister out.

Fletcher had been hopping mad when he found her note. Mad on her behalf. She had just looked at him and asked him what was wrong when she came in. If his cows weren’t cooperating or something.

Then asked when his drones were coming. Again. He had a feeling she wanted to play with them. If she’d even have the time. Dylan worked, cleaned, and crashed in bed. Every damned night. It pissed him off—no denying that.

She was an adult. Capable of making her own decisions, but damn it, did her family realize what was going on?

He was going to have to talk to Ben and Dusty. Get through to Dusty, and then she could give the rest of her sisters a heads up. They were taking advantage of Dylan, and they didn’t even know it.

Dylan needed a damned keeper, no denying that. He prowled around the house, waiting. Seeing all the little changes she had made.

His house felt…welcoming. Like a home. Like it had when he’d been a kid and his mom and dad were still alive. Like people were actually living there again and everything.

And Fletcher liked it.

He liked coming inside to the smells of dinner cooking. Or fresh bread cooling on the counter. Cookies in the jar. He liked finding her little notes on various seeds stuck to his kitchen table, with little seed packets spread out in neat little rows everywhere he moved.

He liked seeing her at his table, her face all kind of scrunched up as she concentrated on a seed catalog she’d gotten from somewhere, trying to pick the absolute best strain of green beans for the Wyoming ground. And where the best place on the property would be, and when she should start her seeds indoors with heat lamps she’d brought from her room at the inn. Those damned lamps were the only things she’d headed back to the inn to get. She talked about heirlooms and hybrids and disease resistance and all sorts of things. Nonstop.

Dylan was intense about gardening. Downright obsessive. She was fascinated by growing things. Now Fletcher had houseplants in every window. Even his bathroom—she’d snuck a cactus in there and told him it reminded her of him in the mornings.

Had her father not stepped in her way, she probably would have done something with plant sciences. He wasn’t stupid. That asshole had taken her dreams from her—did he even know it?

She was still young—Fletcher hoped she found a way to follow her dreams someday. Even if she’d never told him what those dreams were.

“I’m ready.”

He turned. There she was. His housekeeper. Wearing a little red dress she had no business wearing. “Where did you get the dress?”

The words came out strangled. The damned thing was cut low enough to show that Dylan was all woman . She was small and skinny, but Dylan was curved in a way that had his toes melting. Her breasts were pushed up now, drawing a man’s eyes. Like magnets. Tiny but perfect.

Now that he had noticed, he couldn’t exactly un-notice, now could he? He’d spent far too much time lately noticing.

“Found it at Em and Junie’s store.” She spun, sending the dress fluttering around her. “I have to wear a coat, of course. But I feel like an actual woman in this. Look, heels. I am taller now, Fletchie. How cool is that? You think Quade will like it?”

Fletcher’s teeth ground together. Quade had been by the house multiple times. And he was staying at the damned inn. Fletcher had heard rumors about her and Quade twice, just in the last week alone.

He’d also heard that he and Quade had a knock-down drag-out fight over her and Fletcher had lost. Since Davis brothers were all really big into martial arts and everything. Nikki had delighted in sharing that one with him. Then asked him point blank if he was fighting with Wonkus McBubbles over his housekeeper.

Hell, no, he wasn’t fighting over her. She didn’t even seem to realize he was a man or anything. She was driving him crazy. Completely beyond crazy. “Let’s go. The dance starts in fifteen minutes.”

“At least we aren’t that far away from the community center. These monthly events are fun. We never really got to do anything like this when we were younger, but Darcey said that real Talleys are almost always involved in community events and everything. At least this is one Talley thing I do enjoy. I like seeing everybody having a good time and happy. Did you know that Dorie has an actual date to this one? It’s her first date ever. I want to be there to see her when she walks in with him. It’s with the youngest Hauffman brother. Clancy and Em are going with the older two. I was going to go with one, but, well, Quade asked me first.”

“So why aren’t you riding with Davis?” She’d asked Fletcher to give her a lift. Not on a date, but a lift.

“He called. There was a problem with some of the actresses, I think. Everything was insane, and that director dude had to fly in and everything. To unravel it. They are really having trouble recasting twins, I think. Quade is sticking with him to help, but he’s going to meet me at the community center when he can. So you don’t have to give me a lift back here or anything. If it gets too late, I’ll just have him drive me to the inn with him.”

“You’ll spend the night with him?” Was she sleeping with that asshole? Fletcher was going to rip Davis’s face off if she was. “At the inn?”

She laughed. “I’m not sleeping with Quade anywhere. It is way too soon for that. What kind of girl do you think I am? Besides, he is so not ready for a romance thing right now. You do know he just lost his fiancée, like, at New Year’s, right? Well, he really loved her.”

“So why is he dating you?” Because she was one of the hottest women in Masterson and Quade was an asshole? That was more like it.

“I will tell you a secret, but you have to keep it to yourself. Especially in front of my parents. Quade and I are not really dating. We’re just friends. He needs friends who aren’t after what money he has, you know. And it’s really fun to pretend with him. Especially in front of my dad.” She gave another wicked laugh that had Fletcher’s gut tightening. “That’s the best part. Well, and having a friend who actually understands me and everything. I don’t have many of those.”

“Why not? People like you.” Everyone talked to her. And she talked to them. Made them feel…special. Fletcher had spent a lot of time over the last two weeks watching his housekeeper. Trying to figure her out. Somehow.

Dylan liked people. Even though he thought they scared her sometimes. Where she fit, mostly. She hid some insecurities—probably not even half as well as she thought she did. At least not from him.

“Well, do they? Or are they just talking to me because they think I am a real Talley?” she asked almost absently.

“You are a real Talley.”

Her face tightened.

“Who said you weren’t?”

“A few people. I heard them talking at the inn. Behind the desk. They didn’t realize I was there. Maybe,” she shrugged. Like it didn’t matter. “Maybe they did. But they said that we are just the fake Talleys. Oh, well. No big deal.”

“Who?” Fletcher wanted to find them and kick their asses for the hurt in those big green eyes. “Did you say anything to them?”

She shot him a Dylan grin. “Of course, I did. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

But the words still hurt. Because she already felt it. She said things sometimes. He wasn’t stupid. She was still confused and hurting, where her family was concerned. Trying to figure out where she fit.

Fletcher wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. Until they were eye to eye and she was dangling off the floor again. “You are a real Talley . You are just as maddening as the rest of them. Just as beautiful too. Don’t ever forget that. No matter what some idiots have said. Just because you didn’t know you were doesn’t mean you aren’t. Any more than Bruce’s daughters aren’t Tylers because we didn’t know they were out there. That’s just ridiculous.”

Green eyes stared into his. Fletcher wanted nothing more in the world than to pull her against him, kiss the hell out of her, and find out what was beneath the red dress tonight. To show her…that he didn’t give a damn if she was a Talley or not.

She was Dylan.

And she mattered.

“Fletchie, dude, you cannot keep lifting the housekeeper like this. It just isn’t done.”

“It is. By me anyway.”

But he lowered her to her feet, damning himself yet again. He had to remember to keep his hands off. No matter what.

He helped her over the snow in the driveway—he’d kept it salted, but it was still a bit more dangerous than he wanted. In the end, Fletcher just hooked an arm around her waist and scooped her over the last six feet of sidewalk or so. She laughed.

He loved to hear her laugh. Even when she was laughing at him. He sat her on her feet briefly, opened the truck door, and lifted her in. She watched him when he climbed in the other side. How on earth was he supposed to deal with her?