“YOUR SISTER SHOULD put you on retainer.”
Carrie smiled at Dylan over the rim of her wineglass later that night. Sam, Daisy and the kitten had gone to bed an hour earlier after Sam had convinced Dylan to let the tiny animal sleep with him for the night. “You’re kind of an easy sell.”
The only illumination in the family room came from the glow of the strands of lights on the Christmas tree, so she could sense rather than see his eyes darken as he approached the sofa where she sat.
“I’m not keeping the kitten.”
“Maybe not.” She took another sip of wine then placed her glass on the end table. “But Sam and Daisy are planning on it.”
He sighed. “Why do all the things that make Sam happy end up being a pain in my ass?”
“I’m not an expert on kids, but rumor has it that’s fairly typical.”
“Why don’t you have any forever animals?” he asked, settling back against the soft cushions. “It seems like Meredith should have found your perfect pet match by now.”
She felt her shoulders tense but tried to hide it. “I like fostering,” she answered, which wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. “I don’t want the responsibility of permanent pet ownership.”
“You’re the most responsible person I know,” Dylan told her with a laugh. He reached out and traced one finger along her jawline as if to smooth away the tension she held there. “I bet half the town has you on speed dial to call in case of emergency.”
“I hate it sometimes.” She whispered the words like she was imparting a great secret. Or as if lightning might strike her down for the admission. But that didn’t stop it from being the truth.
She’d been responsible and practical and dependable and all the other boring adjectives for as long as she could remember. Not adopting an animal from Meredith’s rescue was a tiny thing but Carrie couldn’t take on one more level of obligation in her life.
She had a feeling Meredith understood because although she was constantly asking for fostering favors, she never pressured Carrie to keep any of the fur babies she took on. Not the way Meredith had pushed Avery to adopt the adorably overweight mutt, Spot, a few months ago. Or how she subtly strong-armed Dylan into opening his house to a dog at Thanksgiving. In fact, Meredith had tried to make forever family matches with almost everyone Carrie knew. Except her.
She wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or grateful that her sister could read her so well. Not that the animals didn’t tempt her. She could have been content to keep any number of them. But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
“You don’t owe them anything.” Dylan cupped her chin in his warm hand, and she wanted to curl into him the same way Barnaby had with Daisy. To trust him to keep her safe because he was the one person who’d always liked her just the way she was.
She didn’t have to be perfect or compliant or dependable with Dylan. It was a wholly liberating sensation.
Even if he was wrong for her in the end.
But this wasn’t the end.
This was now.
She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “The tree is beautiful,” she said, turning her gaze when the intensity in his eyes became too much to handle. It felt like being under the scope of some sort of lust-filled laser beam or what.
They’d decorated the tree with the lights and ornaments Sam had found, along with a few extras Carrie’d brought over. She’d cajoled Dylan into turning on holiday music, and she and Sam had sung at the top of their lungs while Dylan grimaced and tried to hide his enjoyment.
Was there anything more festive than trimming a Christmas tree?
Carrie realized that she’d been so focused on making the holidays magical for the entire town she’d forgotten to enjoy the simple moments of the season herself.
In fact, she feared she’d been going through the motions for longer than she cared to admit, checking off the appropriate Christmas spirit boxes without truly appreciating the meaning of the season.
The evening with Dylan and Sam made her long for a family of her own. For the chance to create her own traditions that didn’t revolve around expectations from anyone else. Her father had always had very specific ideas about how the holidays should be handled. When she was a kid, he’d relished playing the role of benevolent Santa for the people in town even if it meant they didn’t have time to celebrate privately as a family.
Once her mother left, Carrie had spent most Decembers trying to keep Niall out of the spiral of holiday depression that regularly overtook him.
She hadn’t given much thought to the emotional cost of setting aside her own wishes for Christmas in order to cater to her father’s needs. To the needs of the Magnolia community. To everyone except herself.
“Should I take it personally?” Dylan asked, jolting her back to reality.
She tried to move away from him, but his arms stayed steady on her waist. “Take what?”
His mouth quirked into that almost-smile. “One moment I thought you were going to kiss me and the next you’re wearing a scowl like someone pulled off Santa’s fake beard.”
“Sorry,” she said automatically. “I was just thinking about past Christmases and how much I missed because my focus had to be on my dad.”
“Or the town?”
“That, too,” she admitted. “The evening was great, even if the tree is way too big for your house.”
He followed her gaze to the tree, which filled the room with the scent of pine. It looked both massive shoved into the corner of the room and oddly perfect.
“I have to admit I had fun. It’s been years since I’ve decorated a tree.”
“You didn’t put one up in your condo in Boston?”
He shrugged. “The building had a tree in the lobby. That seemed close enough.”
Carrie reached out to stroke his arm. “Did Sam’s parents go all out for the holidays?”
“I guess. To be honest, I didn’t pay much attention. Normally, I scheduled a vacation over the holidays.”
“You left town for Christmas?”
“Don’t knock it. I’d ski Aspen if the snow was good out west or head to the Caribbean for some beach time.”
She blew out a soft laugh. “Actually, I might be jealous.”
“Are you admitting the foolishness of the holidays isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”
“Not one bit. But I will say there were a few holidays in the past couple of years I could have skipped.” She stuck out her tongue. “This isn’t one of those.”
As a slow grin spread across his face, he glanced toward the tree and then back to Carrie again. “This one is not that bad.”
“Big praise,” she murmured as hope blossomed in her chest. If she could make Dylan see the importance of the holiday spirit in Magnolia, surely she could convince him that the town needed to remain quaint and quirky.
There were plenty of places to build luxury townhomes and upscale retail centers.
Magnolia didn’t need that kind of an overhaul to be reinvigorated. It only needed people willing to capitalize on the things that already made it special.
Maybe she and Magnolia had that in common.
Maybe Dylan could see it in her and the town.
Thoughts for her continuing campaign evaporated like a water droplet on a hot radiator when he kissed her.
“We keep getting distracted,” he said as he shifted her closer.
Her pulse fluttered as he trailed kisses down her throat, nipping at the sensitive place in the crook of her collarbone. “From what?”
“From us.”
Us. She liked the sound of that word on his lips.
“What about Sam?” She managed the words despite her body commanding her to be quiet and enjoy the moment.
“He’s the soundest sleeper I’ve ever met,” Dylan said. “We have the main floor all to ourselves.”
Reassured, she smiled as he tugged the sweater over her head and then did the same with the thick Henley he wore.
He claimed her mouth again as he maneuvered them so that he was lying on the sofa with Carrie straddling his lean hips.
She lifted her head to look down at his broad chest. The glow from the Christmas tree bathing them in gentle light, she ran her palms across the corded muscles there and along his shoulders. Unable to resist, she lowered again and licked one tight nipple, the hiss of breath that escaped his lips both gratifying and exhilarating.
Their mouths came together, more insistent in the need that sparked between them. She felt his hands moving along her back, deft fingers making quick work of her bra clasp. The straps fell from her shoulders and she tossed aside the delicate fabric without a second thought, wanting to feel his skin against hers.
A moan broke from her lips as he cupped her breasts in his hands, flicking a thumb across the sensitive tips.
“So beautiful,” he said, urging her higher until he could close his mouth around one nipple.
Heat pooled low in her as her hips moved against him, sensation spiraling through her as he sucked harder then blew cool air against her heated skin.
“Naked,” she said, pressing her hands on his chest for balance.
“Is that a request or a command?”
“Command,” she said without hesitation, earning a sexy grin from Dylan.
“I like you in control.”
So did she, although she never would have guessed it. She climbed off him, and he led her to his bedroom before peeling the black yoga pants she wore down over her hips and legs. It didn’t take long until they were a tangle of limbs and kisses and whispered murmurs between the sheets of his big bed.
When he entered her and they moved together, it felt so right that Carrie had to blink away the tears that sprung to her eyes.
What kind of silly fool cried during sex?
She fused her mouth to his instead, kissing him deeply even as emotion clogged her throat.
As the pressure built inside her it was like being on a roller coaster making its way up that first big hill. Sensation spiraled through her along with anticipation of the pleasure she knew was imminent.
And when her release broke over her, careening through her and plunging her over the edge, Carrie was helpless to do anything but hold on to Dylan’s broad shoulders for the wild ride.
He groaned into her mouth and she felt his body tense for several languorous moments, and then he relaxed against her.
She held him, or they held each other, in the minutes after, the soft whirl of the wind outside the bedroom window the only sound in the quiet house.
“It only gets better between us,” he said when he finally lifted his head.
“Too much better and you’re going to kill me with the satisfaction of it,” she told him with a forced laugh. Concentrate on the physical part of it, she counseled herself. Not the emotional. Keep that separate. Keep her heart safe. Although somewhere deep inside she knew it was too late for that.
“What a way to go,” he said, unaware of the struggle going on inside her. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and then dropped beside her, keeping one arm draped across her stomach. Like she belonged to him.
Oh, how she wanted to belong to him.
But Carrie was smart enough not to let herself give in to that wish. Dylan scratched an itch she’d had for too long. It had been years since she’d dated, an embarrassingly long time to be without a man’s touch.
That was why this felt like more. She was a plant soaking up water and sunshine after being ignored in a dry, dark place. Of course it would mean something to her. But she couldn’t let it.
As much as she wanted to snuggle into him and let sleep find her safe within the comfort of his arms, she moved away, throwing back the sheet and allowing the cool air of the room to bring her to her senses.
“I need to go home,” she said back to him. She felt him shift and moved before he could reach for her. It was like pulling herself away from a magnet. Her clothes were strewn across the floor, and she quickly gathered them and padded to the bathroom.
In the bright light of the small space, Carrie dressed and then studied herself in the mirror over the sink. Her face was flushed, but she couldn’t quite keep the panic from showing in her eyes. Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to curb the panic that threatened to rise up inside her. She blinked several times, telling herself that she had things under control.
She understood that the physical connection could be amazing with Dylan, but it wouldn’t translate to anything more.
Allowing her heart to lead would only end in him breaking it all over again.
She straightened her sweater, finger-combed her hair and then exited the bathroom with what she hoped was a serene expression on her face.
“Is everything okay?” Dylan asked. He stood next to the bed wearing a faded T-shirt and athletic shorts and looking as invitingly rumpled as the sheets and comforter.
“I have to check on the other kittens,” she told him, once again using them as an excuse like some sort of throwback spinster.
“Are you going to come back?”
She shook her head. “Not a good idea.” Before he could argue, she took a step toward the door. “Are you okay with Barnaby staying here? It really wasn’t my intention to add another animal to your household. You can sneak in and grab him from Sam’s room now or I could pick him up in the morning if...”
“He’s fine.” Dylan’s tone was laced with frustration. “I don’t want to talk about the kitten, Carrie.”
Funny, she didn’t want to talk about anything at all. Not with the effort she was making to control her feelings, to prevent them from overruling her good sense. “Okay,” she answered. “I’ll see you later.”
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends until it stood out in a half dozen spiky peaks. God, how she wanted to smooth them down. To smooth over all of both of their rough edges. “That’s it?”
“It’s better this way,” she told him, clenching her hands into fists at her sides. “We have fun together, but both of us know there’s nothing more to it.”
“We do,” he murmured without sounding the least bit convinced.
“Don’t forget the meeting tomorrow and the final run-through of the weekend schedule. We’re also going to talk about the new businesses interested in coming to Magnolia. They might be a good fit for the buildings you own.”
“I’ve got plans for those buildings and we both know they don’t involve whatever mom and pop shops might want a deal on a lease. That was Niall’s territory and look where it got him.”
A sharp ache cut across her chest. His callous reminder should make her happy. This was exactly the reason they couldn’t be together long-term.
“We’re not repeating the mistakes my father made in town.”
He walked toward her, and she instinctively backed away. Between the emotions of what had just happened between them and the overwhelming anger and frustration at his hardheadedness, she didn’t trust herself to allow him to touch her. Not when she felt like she might shatter from the inside out due to the riot of feelings pulsing through her.
Dylan immediately stopped. “Do you really want to do this now?”
“No,” she admitted. “I want to go home.”
His mouth thinned but he nodded. “Like I said, the kitten is fine here. What’s a little more poop to scoop in the grand scheme of things? At this point I’m up to my eyeballs in crap as it is.”
She knew he didn’t mean that as a personal attack, but the words still stung.
“Thanks for tonight,” she said, the manners her mother had insisted upon hard to relinquish.
“For the orgasm?” He gave a tight laugh. “Anytime, Carrie.”
Her cheeks flushed hot, but she didn’t respond. What in the world could she say to that?
Instead, she turned on her heel and fled the room, detouring to the kitchen to grab her purse and then heading out into the cool December night. She didn’t pause as she hurried to her car, driving the few blocks to her house on autopilot.
There was far too much to process about this night. Things she couldn’t deal with in her current state.
Things she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to handle.
“I ALREADY OWN one of your dogs,” Dylan complained the following morning as he filled out paperwork at Meredith’s rescue. “I’m not sure why I need more forms for an animal that weighs less than three pounds.”
“It’s policy,” Meredith told him from where she sat behind a desk crowded with paper, trial-size bags of dog and cat food and various animal toys.
A movement in the corner caught his eye, and he glanced down to see a lop-eared bunny nibbling on the corner of a cardboard box.
Meredith cocked a brow. “You like rabbits?”
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
“I think you’re placing the blame on the wrong sister. Carrie invited you here for Thanksgiving and brought Barnaby to your house. She’s the reason you’ve opened your house.”
And your heart, a little voice inside him said. He mentally choked that voice until it was silent. She didn’t have his heart. Hell, no. He was a grown-ass man, more than capable of understanding the difference between love and sex.
He sure wasn’t interested in setting himself up for a good kick in the heart again.
“She’s sneaky,” he said instead, “but we’re full up now. No more rescues or lost causes.”
Meredith didn’t answer but her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, like he was some kind of puzzle she was trying to solve.
“I didn’t peg you for an unsung hero sort of guy,” she said, rising and handing him a manila envelope.
He shrugged. “You were too busy casting me as the villain.”
“Not exactly a villain, but maybe a second-rate bad guy,” she admitted. “Remember I have two older brothers. I heard plenty of stories about you.”
“All of them true, I’m sure.” He took the envelope from her hand as heat prickled along the back of his neck. He hadn’t thought much about the stupid choices and monumental mistakes he’d made as a teenager until he’d taken responsibility for Sam. Then all the ways he had no business caring for another human came rushing back to him. “By the way, I’m not a hero of any kind. I could give a damn if every single person in this town considers me the bad guy.”
“Even Carrie?” Meredith asked. He hated the way her gaze gentled when she looked at him, like he was some kind of wounded animal who needed rescuing.
Which was absurd.
“We both know how she feels about me,” he said instead of answering the question. Because never in a million years would he admit that he wanted Carrie to look at him the way she used to, as if he hung the moon and the stars. Not when he could walk outside on a sleepless night and count his faults like a million spots of light across a clear sky.
“Do we?” Meredith walked around the desk, bending to scoop up a hulking black cat. “I heard that you told Carrie to focus more on her art.”
“Yeah. You might not remember her from high school, but her paintings were everything to her. At least until her parents divorced and her dad...” He cleared his throat. “Your dad,” he amended but Meredith held up a hand.
“The man who raised me is my father. Niall Reed is the jerk who screwed around with my mom.”
There were so many levels of anger and betrayal in those words, Dylan didn’t even know how to formulate an answer. He nodded, hoping Meredith didn’t expect more than that.
“Niall put the three of you in a horrible situation. He also did a number on Carrie’s confidence. She’s had too many excuses over the years to put her talent aside.”
“Excuses like bailing out the town from the financial mess he caused?” Meredith asked with a humorless laugh.
“Among others.” He gave a pointed look to the fluffy feline in her arms. “She helps you out quite a bit with fostering, right?”
“Are you blaming me?”
“I’m not blaming anyone,” he corrected. “But if the people in her life continue to give her a pass for not pursuing her art because it’s scary or hard, that isn’t going to help her. She needs to be painting.”
Meredith’s mouth thinned and he thought she was going to physically kick him out of her office. But she closed her eyes for several moments—maybe even to the count of ten—and when she opened them again, she nodded.
“Avery and I will talk to her.” She dropped the fluffy cat onto her desk where the animal immediately stretched out like some kind of feline centerfold showing off its private bits. “Again.”
He pointed to the cat. “Is that what I have to look forward to with Barnaby?”
Meredith flashed a cheeky grin. “He’s a kitten so you have tons of fun ahead of you. Unwound toilet paper rolls...shredded curtains...being climbed like a jungle gym.”
“Fantastic,” Dylan muttered. “Can’t wait. I’ll see you at his next vet appointment.”
He turned to go but Meredith stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked down at her fingers, noticing that they were the same elegant shape as Carrie’s. Did Avery have the same hands as her two sisters? Was this a trait they shared from their father’s DNA?
She quickly pulled away her hand. “I’m joking about the bad behavior. Get a scratching post and some interactive cat toys. Call if you run into an issue. I just want you to know you’re doing a good thing with the animals. Not just for them but for Sam, too. Studies have shown that pet ownership is good for a person’s emotional and physical health. Daisy and Barnaby will give him something to think about other than himself and what he’s been through. And unconditional love. Everyone needs love.”
“I don’t,” Dylan answered automatically. He’d learned too many hard lessons about how love led to pain. “But I get what you’re saying about the kid. Just no more animals.”
“Fish are easy,” Meredith said, tapping one finger against her chin.
“No more,” he repeated with an eye roll and she laughed.
He left the rescue with a feeling of lightness in his chest that he didn’t understand or appreciate. He had no desire to make friends with people in Magnolia, and certainly not Carrie’s sister. He might not consider himself the enemy, but it was better if other people did. Then there would be no surprises if and when he hurt them.