“I want so much to kiss you, Zoe.”
“Is that such a good idea? After today, we won’t see each other again.”
“A parting gift, if you will.”
“A goodbye kiss?” Finally, he was getting the message. “Something to remember you by.”
He moved in closer, his mouth practically but not quite touching hers, perhaps daring her to initiate the kiss. Eyelids closed, and, with a quickening pulse, she risked everything and pressed her mouth on his. Gentle at first, intending only for a parting sentiment. An unbidden sigh escaped her, and she melted into him, the peck becoming something much deeper, much more meaningful. All control was lost, and all desire to resist dissipated. Perhaps he was right after all. Did she love him? Had she let love in for the most inconvenient man? Or was this a simple case of major lust?
“When you kiss me like there’s no tomorrow, how am I to believe we aren’t meant to be?”
She jerked back and stood. Her phone slipped from her pocket and tumbled to the floor.
He bent and retrieved it then reached forward to pass it to her. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
Before she could grab it, he pulled it back and set his focus on the screen. “What’s this?” He flipped the phone and read Alex’s message. “You’re going back to him? Ia, of course you are. I was just a means to an end, a way to get him back.”
Heat flared in Zoe. “How dare you?”
“I should have known. You told me all along this was just a holiday romance. Damn me for falling for you.”
She debated telling him the truth, that she might love him but was too afraid to open herself to him.
But she stopped herself. After all, it was better this way. Better with him walking away from her.
Easier for her.
Safer for her.
Chapter Eighteen
He stood, anger flaring in his gray eyes. “You’re not the person I thought you were.”
“Don’t say such a thing.”
“He’ll never be enough for you. He won’t.”
“Dyl,” she protested, hands shaking, “I don’t know what to say.”
She scurried to the Louis Vuitton suitcase laid out on the dining table and threw in sweaters Betty had knitted for her. The sentiment had touched her. It had been a thoughtful gesture and showed Betty’s kinder side. But then she’d gone all Welsh Dragon on her and…. Ugh.
She sighed.
“Goddamn it, Zoe.” Dylan stormed to her side and slammed the suitcase shut. “You’re the only woman I have ever trusted with my heart since Vanessa. If you had an ounce of decency, of common sense, you wouldn’t run to a man who only wants you when it suits. You’d have me. You’d give us a shot.”
“I’ve a meeting with the New York editor on Monday,” she answered, her voice flat. The damned man with his watery eyes and pout tugged at her heart. “Please, Dyl, don’t make this goodbye harder than it needs to be. We promised to make this an afternoon to remember.”
“Yes, but that was before I knew about Alex. How could you, Zoe? How?” He shook his head.
She let out a long sigh. “Dyl, don’t be angry. We were temporary. Our casual fling is no more.”
“I can’t watch you leave.” He turned to face her. “So I’m leaving first. So long.”
She lowered her gaze and willed herself to stay strong. No, I don’t love him. I don’t. She loved his warm nature and his hot body, yes, and she loved the way he put others’ needs before his own and never squashed anyone’s feelings on purpose. Yes, he could be abrasive and broody. Gosh darn it, he was her dream man, but did she love him?
He stood tall. “Goodbye, Zoe.”
He turned the knob and walked out of her life. And, just like that, she’d chased away a man she cared so much about. In his wake, she was left with an ache in her heart.
Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she clutched the nearby table for support. Had she rejected the only man who truly loved her?
Chapter Nineteen
The five-hour drive to Heathrow had been tedious. And the airport bustled with travelers. Zoe checked her suitcase in and managed to breeze through a somewhat quiet security line.
First stop was to grab a coffee. Then she scrambled to find her gate.
She nudged past the gathering crowd lurking for boarding calls and stumbled over a duffel bag as she tried to battle her way to the seating area for her flight.
“Hey, watch it,” the bag’s owner barked. He had dreadlocks and wore baggy pants and a “Go Vegan” shirt.
Zoe quirked a polite smile. “Excuse me, I’m just trying to navigate my way to a seat.” She weaved through several other bags scattered on the floor.
Finally, an empty seat.
“Anyone sitting here?” she asked a young man with his attention solely on his phone.
He shook his head. “Help yourself.”
She parked her ass in the seat and pulled out her tablet to read a book.
An older couple passed by.
“They never have enough seats. How do they expect a plane full of people to fit on these twenty seats?” the elderly lady complained, hooking her arm through the gentleman’s.
“No idea. Are your feet swelling? We’ll find a seat.”
“Please, take mine.” Zoe tucked her device away and rose, shooting a glare at the twenty-something sitting beside her with his attention glued to his phone. Obviously he’d been missing the day they dished out manners.
“Perhaps you could stand for a while, too?” she said to him. “It’s the nice thing to do.”
“Oh, erm, yeah,” he grumbled, sauntered to the window, and sat on the floor with his knees up and his back against the window.
“You’re so kind. Thank you, dear.” The tall gentleman smiled, such warmth in his expression that it lit his eyes and bulged his cheeks. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re from Georgia?”
“Yes, yes I am. And yourselves?”
“From down Dallas way, dear. We’re making a pit stop in Atlanta to see family.”
“How lovely, and how was your stay in Britain?”
“Oh, my stars, all the rain and gray days have aggravated my arthritis something rotten. Damn my old body.” The lady sat and perched her huge purse on her lap.
“And I hear the rain is fixin’ to fall hard in a few hours. Biggest storm this year, they say.”
“Really?”
She slumped. Rain. Now and forever, she’d remember being cradled in Dylan’s arms as they fled across fields, and later combing her fingers through his wet hair as he drove her to climax. Dylan. Yes, she’d remember him very well.
“Well, I’ll be. I hope it doesn’t bother with our flight times.”
The gentleman pointed to the chair beside his wife. “Please, I hate to put a lady out of her seat.”
“I’m fine, sir. Besides, we’ll be sitting for several hours soon, so it’s nice to stand.”
“Well, all right then.” He parked himself and patted his wife’s knee. “We had a marvelous time in London but we sure are glad to be headed back to the States.”
“I am fixin’ to make myself a large pitcher of iced tea right when we land.” the woman said with a twinkle in her eyes.
“I know what you mean, but I’ll miss their scones,” Zoe added. And their rain. And Dylan’s kisses.
“Oh, dear, you seem sad. Did you have to say goodbye to good friends today?” the woman asked, pity coating her warm smile.
Her husband rubbed her hands then entwined his fingers with hers. “Feeling okay, dear?”
The woman nodded. “Just fine.”
Sweet.
“Dear, you can’t fool me. I’d say you had yourself a spot of holiday romance.”
Zoe threw her arms up in defeat. “You’ve got me, a big ol’ holiday romance with rolls in the hay and kisses in the rain.”
“Uh-oh, dear, it sounds like you didn’t expect to fall in love with him.”
“Real life? Oh, dear. Love is life.” The woman gazed into her husband’s kind eyes and smiled, the kind of smile that lights a face with a slight curl of the mouth. “Without love, life is really quite bland.”
“You two seem deeply in love. What’s your secret?”
“To what, dear?”
“To a long-lasting happy marriage?”
“There’s no secret. We love each other.” The man tapped his wife’s hand. “Always will.”
“He gets me, and I get him. We’re like the best of friends who enjoy each other—”
“Who celebrate each other,” he added.
“Indeed.”
Perhaps one day Zoe would have someone finishing her sentences. “Lovely.”
“You’ll find Mr. Right,” the woman said with a smile. “You have to stop searching is all.”
Her husband chuckled. “Dear, you’re not making any sense.”
The woman continued her life lesson on love. “If you’re too focused on what you think you want, what you actually want will pass you by. Love has a way of finding you. You don’t have to go a-looking.”
The call for boarding echoed overhead.
“Finally. Back home we go.” The old man helped the woman to standing, and they shuffled toward the gate. Zoe grabbed her carry-on and followed behind. She scanned the people forming a line. They were all couples except for the twenty-something man. He typed at lightning speed on his phone.
He joined her side. “I’m in seat H22. You?”
“Erm, I don’t know.” She scanned her ticket. “J22.”
“Ah, we’ll be next to each other. Good.” He winked. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to pass the nine-hour flight.”
He was attractive. A little too young for her, but attractive.
But he wasn’t Dylan.
Chapter Twenty
Zoe trundled through the jet bridge, her gaze set forward and her will focused on getting home.
The task proved more difficult than she had hoped.
Her heart ached, and moisture beaded over her forehead. She trembled.
I’m doing the right thing. I am.
The air thickened around her, and her head pounded with regret. Something was wrong. People shuffled past her, knocking her against the wall. She dropped her carry-on and slid down the wall.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave a man she cared so much about, a man who completed her. Is this what love felt like?
“Ma’am, are you okay?” The old gentleman tapped her on the shoulder. “You look mighty pale.”
“We should tell a hostess,” his adoring wife added.
I love him. I truly, madly, crazily love Dylan.
“Ma’am, I’m leaving my wife with you while I go get help.”
“No, no, I’m not doing the right thing,” she yowled.
“Ma’am?”
“I have to go.” Zoe grabbed her bag and fought to weave through the oncoming crowd piling toward the plane. “Let me out.”
She glanced back only once. The dear old man had wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulder, and he mouthed to her, “Good luck.”
Yeah, she’d need that.
It tore her heart to think of how much she’d hurt Dylan. She could only hope he’d forgive her.
Chapter Twenty-One
She’d checked her baggage, so all she had was her carry-on and her purse. She kept a firm grasp on them as she raced out of the airport and flagged down a cab.
With care to remember her pronunciation, she pleaded, “Dolgellau, please?”
“No, no, no.” The scruffy young cabby moaned. “That’s too far for me, love. Find yourself another taxi.”
“I’ll tip big.”
“Don’t care. Gotta get home in an hour or me wife will have my guts for garters.”
“I tip really generously.” She threw a hundred pound note at him. “Now will you drive me?”
“Sorry, love. I wish I could help.” He handed her the note back. “Look for Don. He loves the longer journeys. Large fella with red specs, can’t miss him.” He pointed toward the back of the lined up cabs. “He’s back there.”
“Thanks.”
Sure enough, he was hard to miss.
“Don?”
“Aye.”
“Can you get me to Dolgellau?” She showed him two hundreds. “Please, I’m desperate.”
“Where’s that then, duck?”
“Wales. North Wales.”
His eyes lit. “Aye. Jump in. The fee’ll be around hundred quid, but I’ll take that very generous tip you offered and we’ll call it an even two hundred if you like.”
“Sure, whatever.” She clambered into the backseat. “Pronto, I’m in a hurry.”
“Of course, duck.” He set his GPS and set off. Of course, she knew she’d have to direct him once they got into the village.
The whole ride she thought of how Dylan would react. She nearly drove herself insane running through the possible scenarios.
She called Rachel and arranged to extend her visa and to move her meeting with the editor to a video chat.
Her nerves spiraled out of her control. It’d been roughly seven or so hours since she’d last seen Dylan. Since she’d made it clear she didn’t want a long term relationship with him. He probably thought her high in the sky and not looking back by now.
Her heart skipped a beat and she twiddled her fingers. She fidgeted, shifting positions in the backseat of the cab, impatient for the ride to be over.
They arrived at the village, and she directed the driver turn for turn until they reached Rose Farm.
He pulled up the dirt road and parked outside the main entrance to Rose Farm. She paid her fare and tipped very generously as promised.
“Thanks.” He took the notes, his smile wide.
She raced up the driveway toward the warm sight of the old house where Dylan lived. Dusk warned the night sky would soon be here.
Betty placed a box into her blue Allegro then spun on her heels. “Zoe? You came back?”
“Ia. Where is he?”
Betty dropped her box and flung her arms around her. “I’m so happy you proved me wrong and you came back for him.”
The woman squeezed far too tight, the affection taking Zoe by surprise.
“Betty, erm, you’re squashing me.”
“Glad to see you, I am.”
Zoe glanced at the car, and at the several boxes loaded into it. “Are you moving in with Thomas?”
“Ia. Dylan gave me no choice.”
“Really? How so?”
“You didn’t know? He’s decided to put the farm on the market.”
Betty pulled back from the embrace and pointed her finger at her. “It’s your fault. You leaving pissed him off.”
“Betty, I’m sure he wouldn’t see you out on the street. Besides, it sounds like it turned out for the best. You’re moving in with Thomas.” Zoe clasped the woman’s hands in hers. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Hey, why are you still stood chatting with me? Go find Dylan.” Betty dragged a hand across her watery eyes. “He’ll be pleased to see you, he will.”
“Where is he?”
“Dunno, love. Haven’t seen him about for a while. And Rhiannon’s off at her friend’s house.”
She dialed his number. No answer.
Darn it.
She dialed him again.
Still no answer.
A bark diverted her attention toward the back of the house.
“Sammy?”
The dog popped into sight from the side garage. He barked again and dipped his front legs as if to beckon her his way.
Of course. The barn. If he wanted to be alone to think, that’s where he’d be.
Sammy leading the way, she trekked up to the building where she and Dylan had taken
shelter from the rain and made love.
She creaked open the door. Sammy whooshed by and nearly knocked her on her ass.
Dylan sat on the hay, a mug of something steaming hot in one hand and a book in the other. The book was the right way up, and he seemed engrossed in the story.
“Ha. Not your books. Indeed. It’s okay that you read, you know.”
He glanced up. “Zoe? Oh….” He folded the book closed. “I just needed a distraction. Thought I’d give this reading lark a try. So far, so good.” Widening his gaze, he wiped a tear from his cheek and shot to standing. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to Atlanta?”
“I’m so sorry.” A lump caught in her throat and she struggled for words. “You, you, you’ve been crying? I hurt you.”
“Yes, you hurt me. No, I’m not crying.” He stuck out his chest and smiled, but his watery eyes spoke the truth and stabbed at her heart. “What happened?”
“I came back because I left something behind. Something very important.”
“I could’ve mailed it. We do have a post office in the village, you know.”
“Dyl, you asked me a question. One I struggled to answer before. Well, I’m ready to answer you now.” She gasped for breath, but couldn’t wait to tell him and she spat out, “Dylan. I. Love. You.”
He released his grasp on the book, letting it tumble to the ground.
“Dylan, what can I do to show I love you? I’ll do anything for you. Heck, I’ll marry you right here and now if it means you understand that I’m no one without you. I’m lost. Incomplete. When I think about a life without you in it.” She brought her hand to her heart and let out a heavy sigh. “I just can’t bare it, Dyl. I need you. I love you.”
He placed his cup at his feet and straightened.
She gulped. “I didn’t think I was brave enough to love anyone, Dyl. But you, you are worth any pain and any heartache.” Rain pelted down, and she let out a nervous chuckle. “Looks like I got here before the rain.”
“Ia. Perfect timing,” he rasped, and inched toward her. “Ia.” His last words brushed her mouth as he kissed her.
She melted into his hold and reveled in knowing, truly knowing she was in love. Truly. Madly. Deeply.
Before the Rain Page 11
