When the Dead Come a Knockin'

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When the Dead Come a Knockin' Page 20

by B. L. Brunnemer


  “Let’s get out of here.” I totally agreed, I didn’t want to run into Trisha anymore then I had to already today. I hopped in my side and started the truck. Dylan got in on his side. We were out of the parking lot and heading to Dulcet in a couple of minutes. My heart was racing. I was going to spend the entire day with Dylan.

  Chapter 8

  Saturday Afternoon

  When we reached Dulcet, Dylan had me drive around so he could show me a couple of places. He showed me the high school, the theater and more importantly the best burger joint in town. We picked up lunch and headed over to Dylan’s house. On the way, I saw the sharp corner that Dylan had told me about and I cringed looking at it. We pulled up to a beautiful two story house, with dark gray shingles and neutral goldish siding. With the light hitting it, the color reminded me of the gold some leaves get in the fall. I parked the truck where he told me to, grabbed my bag and hopped out. My pulse picked up as Dylan unlocked the front door. I was going to see Dylan's house. This was so weird. I followed Dylan into the foyer; the wooden stairs were in a u-shape on the left. Dylan led me straight ahead into a big living room. The ceiling went up to the second story, with exposed cedar beams. The back wall was all large windows looking out onto the woods beyond. There was a big TV hanging on the right gray stone wall, a cedar coffee table, and end tables. A big brown leather couch and recliner. The whole place reminded me of a ski lodge. A really nice ski lodge. Dylan put the food down on the coffee table.

  “Have a seat Sunshine, and I’ll get some napkins and ketchup.” I dropped my bag by the couch as I watched him walk across the room to a large glass paned double doors. I could see a kitchen and dining table through them. I took off my jacket and laid it on the arm of the sofa. I sat down. The sofa was different. The cushions were wider than a regular couch, if I were to sit back against the cushions, my feet would be off the floor. Huh. I ended up looking at the ceiling in the corners of the room and had a question. I was eating one of my fries when he came back in with the napkins and ketchup. He sat down next to me and was quiet for the first time since I met him. His shoulders were tense.

  “I’ve got a question,” I announced in my cutesy voice. He looked over at me, his body still tense. I pointed to the ceiling. “How the fuck do you dust the ceiling?” He burst out laughing. “No, seriously,” I said as I looked up at the high ceiling and tried to figure it out. “Do you have like a mop on a pole or something?”

  “It’s like a dust mop on a pole, yeah.” He admitted his cheeks a little pink. His shoulders relaxed again, and he was smiling.

  “Thank you for answering, because that was going to bug the hell out of me all day,” I admitted reaching for my burger. He started laughing again. I took a napkin and took a bite of my cheeseburger. I was instantly in heaven. When I finished that bite, I looked over at him. “Okay, you win the burger joint contest. This is the best burger ever.” He swallowed the food in his mouth.

  “They use local, grass-fed beef. They even make their own buns. Remind me to tell Zeke about it later.” He said. He picked up the remote and turned on the large television. “What do you want to watch Sunshine?” I was shrugging when I saw a movie just starting.

  “Ooh. Zombieland!” I said excitedly. He chuckled. He put it on.

  “I love that when you pick between a chick flick or a horror movie that you choose the one with the most gore.” He smiled over at me. I shrugged. “Why is that?” I sighed and watched the movie.

  “Well, a lot of chick flicks aren’t realistic. I mean it doesn’t take two days to fall in love with someone. That’s just being attracted to each other. And it sure as hell takes longer than two days to trust another person. No trust, no love.” I thought of something then added. “Well, okay, maybe if you both had perfect families, perfect childhoods, and never been hurt by someone, it could happen. But no one has that.”

  “But a zombie apocalypse is more realistic?” He asked. I laughed as I looked over at him. He was smiling at me with warm eyes. I decided to go with it.

  “Yes, yes, it is.” I took a bite of my burger as he laughed at me. We finished lunch and put our trash in the take-out bag. Dylan went and threw it away. “Care if I take off my shoes?” I shouted.

  “Go for it.” I quickly pulled off my shoes and socks, then curled up in the corner of the couch my knees to my chest. I had full food belly, and I was happy just being here with Dylan. When Dylan came back, I moved under his arm and moved closer. With the wide couch, I ended up curled up with my head on his shoulder. His arm was over my shoulder and resting on my hip from the angle I was lying against him. My bent knees were resting against his leg. I felt him kiss the top of my head and smiled. That feeling of being loved and appreciated washed over me again. And for once I didn’t fight it. If this is how I felt about Dylan, then this is how I felt about him. I just wasn’t going to tell him. I went back to watching Woody Harrelson beat the crap out of some zombies. My eyes went to the photos on the wall. There was a woman with Dylan’s blue eyes smiling in a family portrait. She had been pretty.

  “Dylan?”

  “Yeah, Sunshine?” His voice distracted like his head had been somewhere else.

  “I have a question, but I don’t want you to answer if you don't feel like it.” I felt his body grow tense against me.

  “Okay?”

  “Why don’t you talk about your family?” I asked, keeping my voice soft. I felt his arm flex around me before his thumb began running up my side to my ribs then back down again. I wasn’t sure he was even aware he was doing it. He was quiet for a few heartbeats. Then he took a deep breath.

  “Because there isn’t much of one left.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “Mom was kind of the drive that kept us going. She made sure we did Christmas right, New Years. Thanksgiving was a big one. My family is pretty small. Mom and Dad never had siblings, and all my Grandparents are gone.”

  “So, it’s just you and your Dad?” I felt him nod against my hair.

  “Yep. We get along really well, but it’s just us.”

  “Do you still do Christmas and Thanksgiving?” I asked hesitating a bit. I didn’t want to hit a sore topic.

  “We do for her. We do the tree and the gifts. Then we sit around and watch action movies all day.” His voice was getting tight. I needed to change the subject.

  “So, I guess I’ll have to give you your present late then.” I used my aw-shucks voice. His body shook against me as he chuckled.

  “You’re getting me a present?” His voice was changing back to his normal husky one. I looked up at him; he was grinning down at me.

  “Ooh yeah,” I said, drawing the words out. “Everyone is getting a present this year. Even Tara, if I ever see her.”

  “You can always come up on Christmas, having another person around would be nice.” He kissed the top of my head. “Besides, you're funny as hell.” I looked up at him.

  “Oh, so you only want me here for my entertainment value?” I shot up at him smiling. He groaned painfully as he smiled. I snickered.

  “No, I wouldn’t mind seeing my Sunshine on Christmas either.” He admitted his cheeks tinting pink. I thought about it. I could probably manage it.

  “I have Rory and Tara in the morning, then the guys at Miles’ house.” I looked up at him. “Sorry, no girlfriends or boyfriends allowed. Miles is really private.”

  “I get that.”

  “But I’m free for the afternoon and on, though. And I’ll bring gory ass horror movies to combat the Christmas overload.” I offered, smiling. He chuckled, his eyes warm on my face.

  “Sounds good to me Sunshine.” I went back to resting my head on his chest. Then it hit me.

  “Shit. I still haven’t done any of my shopping.” I groaned. He snickered. “What do you want for Christmas?” He was quiet for a bit.

  “You know what I really want?” His voice was soft and quiet. I looked up to see his eyes unfocused on the stone wall.

  “What honey?” I kept my voice sof
t.

  “I want my Mom’s Christmas cookies. She used to make all these different kinds.” I smiled. “I’ve tried to make them, but I always did something wrong.”

  “Like what?” He smiled.

  “One year I used the wrong kind of oil and made both of us sick.” He admitted. I smiled. His smile started to disappear. I didn’t want to see that.

  “Do you still have the recipes?” He looked down at me, his eyes warm running over my face.

  “You don’t have to Sunshine. It’s enough that you’ll be here.” The honesty in his voice gave me that warm fuzzy feeling again. I gave him a small smile and repeated myself.

  “Do you still have the recipes?” His eyes ran over my face again, his eyes gentle and soft. He nodded.

  “Will it bother your dad if I try to make them?” I really didn’t want to try to make it better and only make it worse. I’ve learned over my life to ask first.

  “No, he’s missed them too.” His voice was thick again. My heart ached. Okay, I couldn’t take it. I shifted onto my knees next to him, wrapped my arms loosely around his neck and leaned against him. He gave me a sad smile, his eyes shining as he wrapped his arms around me.

  “I’m alright Sunshine.” He whispered to me. “I just... miss her. It’s been two years, and I still expect to see her every time I get up in the morning.”

  “Missing her isn’t going to go away, but it gets easier over time.” My voice was soft and quiet. “Looking for…. her. It goes away with time.” He pulled me closer so he could bury his face against my throat. I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, fingers massaging. I didn’t know how else to help but to tell him what I knew about losing Dad. “It took me three and a half years before I stopped expecting to see Dad when I got home.” I took a breath. “Then I cried because I didn’t expect to see him anymore. I felt guilty about it.” His arms shifted then tightened around me. He lifted me and moved me over, so I was sitting in his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. My chest pressed against his as his arms moved back to hugging me, his face still in the crook of my neck.

  “It really sucks around the holidays.” His lips brushed against my skin as he whispered.

  “It helps to do something to show you remember them.” I offered gently; it was the only advice I had. It was the only thing I found that helped. “Maybe talk to your dad about doing something special for her this year.” He took a shaky breath.

  “We do the tree for her.”

  “But it’s not enough, is it? Does it help? Do you feel better after doing the tree?” I heard him sniff.

  “No, it feels like a fucking reminder that we lost her.” He admitted. I felt wet drops land on my skin. My heart clenched. I moved my fingers through his hair at the base of his neck.

  “Then it’s not helping. It’s hurting. The tree isn’t working anymore.” I gave him everything I knew from my experience. “You need to do something new baby. Something that you haven’t done before. Something that leaves you feeling better about her memory, and not just the loss of her.” I just couldn’t seem to shut up today. I cursed myself as tears ran down my face for him.

  “That’s a good idea, Sunshine.” His voice was thick, his breathing shaky. So, I just held him. I didn’t know what else to do, so I did what I did with anyone I cared about. I cried with him. He held me like that for some time. When his breathing steadied, and his grip eased, I did the only thing I could think of. I tried to make him laugh.

  “I should just, not be allowed to talk to people,” I said only half joking. He snorted. “I made Asher cry, like, yesterday. Then he made me cry, and then we decided we shouldn’t talk to each other anymore. Because we kept making each other cry.” I sniffed, trying to be quiet about it. Dylan’s arm around me tighten as he was wiping his face. Then he lifted his head and looked up at me; his eyes were melting as they met mine.

  “Sunshine...” I tried to look anywhere else, but his hands cradled my face, his thumbs wiping my cheeks, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Why are you crying?” He asked his voice soft and so gentle it made my heart skip a beat.

  “Me? Cry? No. This is just a reaction to your cologne, yeah, I’m allergic to it. You need to change it immediately.” I patted his chest and tried to move. His hands went to my arms, his grip holding me still.

  “No bullshit with me, Lexie.” His voice was soft, but his eyes firm as he looked at me. “Why are you crying?” I sighed.

  “When someone I care about is in pain or cries. I cry too.” I answered quietly. One of his hands moved to my throat, his thumb stroking along my jaw. His eyes were soft and warm when he pulled me down so his lips could brush against mine. Then he was kissing me, slowly, sweetly. His lips moved over mine, making my heart race; that warmth poured through me. With his hand on my neck, it felt so good I made a small noise in the back of my throat. His lips pressed harder against mine, taking my breath away. His lips took my lower lip and nipped it with his teeth before diving back in to kiss me again. My stomach did that low, hard flip as the kiss changed. His mouth moved hungrily over mine; that was fine. I was kissing him the same way. I barely parted my lips before he was there. He dipped in and drove any thought I had away. There was only Dylan, his mouth on mine and the warmth running through me. I only knew I needed to keep kissing him. Had to keep kissing him. Need drove me to kiss him desperately; I shifted against him. I couldn’t help it, the way he kissed me made me want to move. He moaned against my mouth, his arm crushing me against him. He felt so amazing that I didn’t want to stop. My mind washed away on a wave of pure feeling; that warmth started growing hotter. We were both breathing heavy, but neither one of us seemed to care. He kissed me deeper, harder. My hips moved again; I was barely aware of it. He made a noise in the back of his throat, his hand sliding down to the small of my back, leaving sparks along my spine. The world was fuzzy, and all I knew was Dylan, his kiss, his touch. Then a phone rang. The sound brought us both back to earth. We both eased back from the kiss. He kissed me softly one more time before he pulled away. His hands moved to my hips as I leaned back from him my hands resting on his chest. I was trying to remember how to breathe as he shifted against me to reach his back pocket. I caught my breath as he pressed against me, sparks shot through me. His hand on my hip squeezed, letting me know that he heard me. He pulled his phone out as I tried to get focus. He swallowed hard before answering.

  “Yeah?” His voice sounded normal, and I don’t know how since he was breathing just as heavily as I was. His eyes ran over my face, still full of heat. I focused on brushing my hair out of my face before I thought about how that look made me instantly want to kiss him again. Cool down Lexie, pull back. What the fuck just happened? Oh, I knew what just happened, but I was trying to remember how it started. My mind was still scattered and fuzzy, making it hard to think. I leaned against him, my forehead dropping to his shoulder as I focused on trying to get my brain working again. His arm slipped around me, his hand slowly running up and down my back.

  “Dad, no.” Dylan’s voice was sharp. “I’m not coming in, call Mason.” My heart sank, he was going to have to go to work. I gave a quiet growl in frustration. “Dad, I’m out with Lexie. She came up from Spring Mountain today. Remember, I told you about it last night?” Dylan’s voice grew softer when he said my name, it wasn’t by much, but I heard it. I smiled into his shirt. “Yeah call Mason, he needs the cash to fix his stereo system.” He sighed. “Okay, bye.” Dylan hung up the phone and dropped it onto the couch. His kissed my shoulder before moving my hair away from my face. “Sorry about that, Sunshine.” I snorted. I owed Dylan’s dad a huge thank you. Otherwise, we might have gone too far and not even noticed it. Or cared. I probably wouldn’t have cared… until later. Dylan just seemed to have that effect on me.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled enjoying his hand in my hair. I felt his nose stroke along my ear.

  “You okay?” He whispered softly. I snorted.

  “Yeah, peachy.” I sat up and wen
t still, the shifting he did to get to his phone had pressed him against me. Hot shivers ran through me. I made a point not to move for him. “Your dad has incredible timing.” He snorted.

  “Doesn’t he?” He asked sarcastically. I chuckled. He reached up and brushed more hair from my face as his eyes narrowed on mine. “So, you cry when other people cry.” He smiled warmly at me.

  “Yeah,” I said suspiciously.

  “Is that why you don’t watch tragic romance movies?” He guessed, his eyes lighting up. “They make you cry.” Shit. I smacked his chest and pointed at him.

  “You will take my secret to the grave, and beyond,” I told him firmly. “Or I’ll... do something to get even.” I really had nothing prepared, no idea how to blackmail him. I was really at his mercy here, and I didn’t like it. He smiled warmly at me.

  “You really do have a big heart.” I rolled my eyes. I was getting tired of hearing that. I did not. I’m a mean bitch who will rip off your head if I have to. Okay, I know that’s not entirely true, but fuck. It would be so much easier if it were.

  “Promise me.” I hated how girly that plea was, but I wasn’t letting him out of this without a promise. He started laughing. “Fuck this. I’m leaving. Nope, not waiting around for that bombshell.” I went to move off his lap. Dylan's arms snagged me around the waist and kept me where I was. Then his hands shifted down to my hips. I glared at him. His laughing was fading away now. His warm, sparkling eyes met mine.

  “I promise, I’ll never tell anyone, ever, that tragic love stories make you cry.” He assured me. I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Or write it down, or record it in any fashion?” I wanted to be a hundred percent on this. He smiled at me.

  “Or write it down, or record it in any fashion. I promise.” His eyes were running over my face again. I was starting to wonder if I had ketchup or something on me.

 

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