Chapter 38

38

She had let him carry her inside, where he had put her on her feet, kissed her hot enough to scorch the wood paneling all around them—and then sent her to bed, where she’d tossed and turned chastely all night long.

Now, she was still trying to figure him out an entire day later. Dylan was going to play it safe here. She wasn’t going to do anything risky. Nothing.

Like she had told Mr. Quade McBubbles—she just wasn’t ready at this point in her life for that all-consuming kind of passion that was only ever really seen in romance novels—or when one was watching Mr. Benjamin Tyler wooing her sister Destiny Marie. Or Mr. Gilbert Tyler stalking his wife, Deputy Sage, around. Talk about fire there .

Maybe Fletcher just thought a man was supposed to act that way? His uncles certainly did—she had noticed how much the Tyler couples all loved each other.

It made a girl take notice to see other women loved like that.

And that wasn’t a bad thing at all, she decided as she pulled the quilt his mother had made tight over her shoulders. He was right next door, probably sleeping. He had been tired. And probably still a little bruised.

He had taken Butthead Bruce straight to the ground and given as good—better—than he’d gotten. Bruce had just played dirty, throwing gravel in Fletcher’s face and running away like the coward she knew he had to be. But she suspected Bruce getting away bothered Fletcher more than he wanted to admit. He was a bit overly protective of his Fletcher-keeper, after all.

A careless “Sorry, nephew!” from Butthead Bruce had just burned even more.

Someone needed to catch that guy and seriously kick his ass.

Fletcher had been protecting her.

She knew that was why he had been distracted. Chase Bruce, or go back to Dylan—who had been surrounded by half a dozen strange men? Of course, Fletcher came back to her to protect her.

What had Bruce been doing there, anyway?

She shivered and then threw the blankets back. She couldn’t just lie there—she was going to drive herself crazy.

There were cookies in the kitchen. Time for a snack. Then, maybe she’d text the inn. Devaney or Marin would be working the front desk still. It was time for girl talk. Or another perspective. Or someone to talk her off the ledge before she snuck into Fletcher’s room and snuggled right up against him until morning.

Wouldn’t that be akin to just walking right of the ledge into relationship land?

Not that she wasn’t already on that particular Google trip right now, anyway.

She was living in the man’s house. Taking care of him, and in exchange, he was taking care of her basic need for shelter, food, heat, and, well, human companionship.

She had spent more time one-on-one with her sworn enemy than she had any of her sisters since they had landed on this alien Masterson planet.

It was no wonder where she was right now felt more like home to her than anywhere else here.

Whenever they would move, Dylan was the one who would set everything up. Make it feel like home for her sisters.

She’d keep them. Make things feel like they belonged. Were where they were meant to be.

She grabbed cookies and made herself a mug of hot chocolate. Her window beckoned. It was probably her favorite place in Fletcher’s entire house. She’d cleaned the windows with vinegar before they’d headed on their adventure. Now, she just sat there in the front window and watched the spring snow. The moon was out, reflecting everywhere, off the snow. A trio of deer were meandering through. She could see the silhouette of the mountain, if she squinted and pretended a little. It was so peaceful, here at Fletcher’s habitat.

She wrapped her quilt around herself a little better.

She really hadn’t felt at peace in Masterson before.

Not since day one. Like, definitely from day one—when a madman had held a gun to Devaney’s head and ended up shooting Dylan and everything. She rubbed the scars absently as she remembered.

No. She hadn’t felt peace since that day. Hadn’t thought she ever would. But maybe she was getting a little bit of that peace back now. Right where she was.

She watched the deer as they headed across the large yard toward the property next door. It would be Chandler Tyler’s restaurant when it opened, but where Fletcher’s house was situated, she doubted they would really even see the lights and action of the restaurant someday. There were trees there, between them.

Like, this was their own isolated little paradise. Just hers and Fletcher’s.

She could be happy here. If she stayed and was his housekeeper forever. She felt at home right where she was now. She didn’t even realize she was crying, until a soft hand was there—to wipe away her tears.

“Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

* * *

He’d heard her again, and Fletcher had just known she needed him.

“Just thinking.”

She was curled up on the window seat—the spot he’d always remember his mother preferring. It softened something in him seeing Dylan like that, right there.

The window seat was big enough for two. His dad had made sure of it. “Scoot over.”

“There are three deer walking around out there. I think they live right over there. I was trying to think of names for them. They need names, you know. I was thinking Debbie, Dolly, and Doro were good names for lady deer.”

“Sound good to me.” The wacky Dylan hair was sticking up everywhere. He knew it was just as soft as it looked. He reached out, pushed a bit of it out of her eyes. He couldn’t see her eyes in the dark. He wished he could. “What are you thinking?”

“Counting how many times I remember us moving, actually. And how…each and every time, I was the one to unpack that first box. To…make where we lived a home for my sisters. I am thinking about what makes…a home, really.”

“And?” There was definitely more going around in her complicated Dylan brain than that. Fletcher could hear it in her words. “Tell me. I promise I’ll listen.”

She was quiet for a long time. “Mom was always…extra anxious whenever we’d move. She’d have what we just called ‘bad days’ right after. Sometimes for a few weeks. Looking back, with what I know now—maybe she was afraid we were being followed. Or just paranoia and PTSD. I honestly don’t know if we were or not. But I remember her always being stressed and tired and our dad always busy dealing with whatever furniture we’d bring. Sometimes…we’d just have our clothes and the belongings that were most important to us, in cardboard boxes we kept in the closet, and no furniture because we’d just leave it all behind. Sometimes, it was supposed to be a grand adventure, you know? Except…it never really was an adventure. Mom was stressed. Dad was busy. Devaney was taking care of Dorie and Dahlia. And I—was…making us a home. The first time I remember moving, I think I was around six. And I was pushing a heavy box of toys around. The twins and I were sharing a room, and I wanted them to have their toys and their beds just right so they wouldn’t be so afraid. Their beds had to be perfect. Except…maybe I was the one that was afraid?”

Maybe it was a little bit of both. “I’m sorry. It couldn’t have been easy. I won’t give empty platitudes. I’m just…sorry you all had to go through that.”

“I…still haven’t unpacked my boxes, cowboy.”

“Here?” She’d come with two duffle bags and a cardboard box. She’d brought a bit more clothes over since. Her plant lights. She was talking about him getting an old trunk out of the attic, if her family would let her have it. Because it matched one in the spare room down the hall, here.

He hadn’t really thought about her belongings much, just assumed she’d left more at the inn for when she went back after the bet ended. They’d have to get her things when he convinced her to make this a permanent deal between them.

“There. At the Talley Inn. I have always unpacked my boxes right away, to make everything my home. To feel, to find my home from the beginning. Except…most of my stuff is still in my boxes in the attic at the inn there. For the first time in my life, I didn’t unpack my boxes. I still haven’t figured out why.”

He made a bold decision—Fletcher scooped her up, blanket and all, and settled into the large window seat with her. “You just aren’t ready yet, babe. Nothing wrong with that. The inn was kind of thrust on you. Hard to forget that.”

She nodded, her hair brushing against his chin. Fletcher just held her as they watched the snow, the deer. Together.

“I think that’s exactly what it is. It still doesn’t feel like home to me. The inn. Not really. And I’m starting to understand that it probably never really will. I feel more at home right here with you, than I ever have there. And I still don’t know what that means for me. It’s so…easy for them. For the twins and Dorie. They cling to the idea of ‘one-big-happy-family’ with Dusty and Daisy and the rest, right there at the Talley Inn. They are making it work for all of them, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t make it feel right. They belong. And I just…don’t. I love my sisters, all of them—I think—but it just doesn’t feel like my home. So what is so broken in me that I can’t find home there, with the rest of them?”

His heart shattered. Right there for her. In that instant.

“Nothing is broken in you. Maybe…it’s a natural part of things,” Fletcher just went with it. Spoke from the heart. “Maybe this is your time for them to step back and make their own…home. For themselves. Maybe you are meant to find something more too. For you. Instead of putting their needs first all the time. Maybe you needed a way to find what you want now.”

Like him. Like a home with him. He made her a vow then, even though he never said the words aloud.

He would be her home. However he needed to be. However she wanted him to be. For always.

“I just don’t know when I’ll be ready for that.”

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what she was saying. And time— life —was too short. “You are talking about more. With me.”