by Liz Isaacson
“It cost me six-ninety-five to rent that excavator,” she said, breaking the silence between them. “Well, not me, but the Rogers’s. And they don’t have seven hundred dollars to spare. I was…angry. Frustrated. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” She peered up at him, hoping he’d forgive her. Understand that sometimes she just had a very short fuse, and she never knew what was going to light it.
“I know,” he said simply, his fingers tightening for half a heartbeat. “I’m just glad there was no jukebox involved this time.”
Her heart froze as if someone had doused it in liquid nitrogen. “I—”
Dylan laughed, the joyful sound lifting into the sky and making Cami smile despite herself. He let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side.
“You’re full of fire,” he said, leaning closer. His lips skimmed her earlobe when he said, “Don’t worry. I’m not afraid of getting burned.”
Fireworks popped through her whole body, and she had no idea what to say.
Didn’t matter. Dylan seemed stuffed full of words tonight where he’d been quiet on Tuesday, let her lead the conversation where she wanted it to go.
And she had been rude to him when she’d first got to town. He’d tried to approach her at the jukebox in the diner, and she remembered vaguely speaking to him in Spanish, a lot of glaring, and then marching away.
He’d had no idea she’d just gotten off the phone with her ex, nor that she’d just decided she wouldn’t be going back to Amarillo—ever.
She should probably explain all of that, but he didn’t seem to need it.
“Fact or false,” he said. “You haven’t dated since you moved to Three Rivers.”
She wondered who he’d been talking to. Boone Carver wouldn’t know. Cami didn’t have any pets, and she had no reason to go into the animal clinic.
“Fact,” she said, drawing out the word. Maybe his sisters had told him. He had three of them, and they could mobilize the gossip circles and find out anything they wanted to know in minutes.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“I had a bad experience with my last boyfriend,” she said, going for the truth. They rounded the pond on the far end, and the scent of freshly moved grass and sunshine filled the air.
“Tell me about it,” he said, almost a question but not quite.
Cami contemplated her options. She’d been carrying the weight of what had gone down with Wade for a long time. Too long.
“His name was Wade,” she started. “He was my boss’s son. He was…abusive.”
Dylan’s next step took him away from her, and he looked fully at her, his eyes wide and round. “Physically?”
She nodded, the evening sun suddenly too cold. “I—I didn’t have the fire then that I do now.”
“Cami.” His voice carried more emotion than Cami had heard in a long time. She realized in that moment how lonely she’d become, how isolated. Sure, she was strong but it sure would be nice to be weak sometimes. Have someone support her when she didn’t feel like she could make it through another day.
“That’s not okay,” he said. “How long did that go on?”
“Too long,” she said. “Months. I was afraid of him, and I knew I’d lose my job, so….”
“What was the turning point?”
“He was careful about not leaving a mark, until he wasn’t. I couldn’t go visit my parents, couldn’t go to church, couldn’t go to work.” Cami took a deep breath, remembering the moment she’d decided to leave Wade, leave Amarillo, leave that old life behind. It was as clear as glass, right there in her memory to be thought of at any time.
“I…snapped or something. I don’t know. But I didn’t hide out in my apartment the way I usually did. I went to my parents’ house. And church. And work. And anyone who asked what had happened, I told them the truth.” She shook her head. “I quit that morning, and I left Amarillo that evening. I don’t go back very often.” Except to take him to her favorite pizza joint. Cami realized the significance of that date, and there was no doubt in her mind now that she liked this man standing in front of her.
Dylan took several steps, the information clearly needing some time to sink in. Finally, he said, “It doesn’t seem fair that you had to leave.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So you don’t see your family often?”
“Not that often, no.” She thought of the simple hour-long drive—the house right next door where her former boss lived. No, she didn’t go home very often.
“And you’re still game for my family barbecue?” he asked. “Because they can be a handful.”
“Did you ask your sisters about my dating history?”
“Did you ask your girlfriends about mine?”
She gave him a genuine smile. “So Kacey wasn’t right about everything.”
“So my sisters were.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter to me.”
“Nothing seems to,” she said.
That made him pause, and he stepped in front of her. “What does that mean?”
“It means, Mister, that you’re so calm and cool about everything.” She swatted his chest. “It’s unnerving.”
He dodged away from her next swipe, latching onto her wrist with his strong, capable hands. “Unnerving, huh?” He switched his gaze from her fingers to her face. “You unnerve me too, Cami.”
Before she could comprehend what he’d said or what he was doing, he bent toward her, her wrist still deliciously encircled by his fingers.
Her eyes drifted closed in anticipation of getting kissed, but his lips bypassed hers and landed on her cheek, near her eye. “I was wondering,” he said softly, his next kiss closer to her ear. “Do you happen to know how to ride a horse?”
Cami’s eyes jerked open, and she startled away from him. “Really?”
“I love going out to Three Rivers Ranch,” he said, an insane amount of hope in his eyes. “I volunteer with the veterans at Courage Reins a couple of times a week, but I was thinking maybe me and you…I mean, you and I, we could go riding together or something.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Cami felt like she’d just arrived at the best surprise party in the world.
He sighed. “I guess we’ll just keep searching for the one thing we have in common.”
She stepped with him, making him wait just a little bit longer. “Oh, I don’t think we’ll need to do that,” she finally said. “Because if there’s one thing I like better than chocolate cake, it’s horseback riding.”
“Really?” Dylan asked.
“Really.” She laughed, and he swung her around as he chuckled too.
“Well, that’s just great, sweetheart,” he said. “Want to go out to the ranch tomorrow?”
Cami’s joy faded as quickly as it had lifted, but she didn’t want to push him away anymore, so she said, “I do. I really do.”
Chapter Nine
Dylan set Cami on her feet and gazed down at her, a range of happiness and affection racing through him. The moment lengthened, as she looked back at him with those gorgeous eyes.
So he’d been prolonging the moment before he kissed her, but now the idea came back in full color. Before he could lean down, he became aware of the pressure of Lord Vader’s body against his calf and the hot, wet sensation of the dog’s saliva as it dripped onto his toes. Dylan pulled away again but kept Cami as close as he could as he glanced down at the dog. “Vader.” He gave the dog a little nudge.
He couldn’t believe that an hour ago he was slumped on his couch, his heart heavy and his mind churning. Everything had changed when she’d walked up to him, her smile bright, her tone flirtatious, her curves so dang pronounced in that tiny scrap of fabric she called a pair of shorts.
And they were white, which only made her tan legs seem to go on for miles and miles. Dylan reined in his thoughts and tucked Cami against his chest. He tried not to notice how easily she went, how well she fit. But he noticed. He noticed hard.
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“How about some ice cream?” he asked, taming his fantasies and realizing the moment had passed. “The shop’s just back that way.”
“Yeah, it’s like four blocks back that way.”
“Oh, you don’t want to walk?” he teased. “I’ll drive you.”
“That would be great, thanks.” She flashed him a flirtatious smile that had him thinking about how he’d been too slow making his way toward her mouth for a kiss.
They walked back around the duck pond, Dylan thinking of one of his favorite childhood treats—pistachio ice cream. “My dad brought us for ice cream every weekend,” Dylan said, not really sure why he was sharing this deeply personal part of his life with Cami, a woman he sure liked a lot but didn’t know really well.
“Me and my sisters. We’d get ice cream cones every weekend, skip rocks right here in this pond, and then Dad would let us get a waffle to share before we went home.” He thought of how he’d always had to run to keep up with his older, longer-legged sisters, how he always got the last cone from the counter, how he barely got two bites of waffle before Alecia would whisk the treat away from him.
“We got to spend time with Dad,” he said. “It was fun.”
“Sounds fun. We can go. I know they have ice cream sandwiches made with homemade cookies.”
“Those aren’t homemade, you know.”
“Yes, they are.” She glanced at him. “It says so right on the sign.”
He glanced at her, pressed his lips together, and shook his head. “I happen to know they buy them from Cisco. Same ones you get at the burger joint.”
Cami blinked a few times like she’d been personally affronted. “Well, I still like them.”
Of course she did. Dylan was starting to get used to the fact that no matter what he liked, she wouldn’t, and what she liked, he probably didn’t.
Not a big deal, he thought. They seemed to get along okay, and their bodies were definitely in a perfect partnership during that almost kiss….
And she liked horseback riding, so that was a huge win in Dylan’s book.
He helped her into the truck, thinking that her perfume would get trapped in the cab and he’d be able to smell her there. He drove down the road at a crawl, wanting her in his truck for a bit longer.
Once inside the ice cream shop, he ordered a pistachio ice cream cone for him and a “homemade” ice cream sandwich for her. Once they were back outside with Lord Vader shuffling along beside them, he said, “Let me prep you about my family. I’ll tell them about you before we go. I should probably tell my mom this week, as she’ll probably need extra time to make another batch of potato salad.”
A beat of silence passed, and then Cami said, “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not even a little bit.” Dylan chuckled at the thought of his petite, blonde mother. “She plans everything down to the smallest detail. She makes binders of her plans. So me adding a girlfriend to the picture will upset her seating arrangements, her food—”
“Girlfriend?” Cami stopped, the hand holding her ice cream freezing in mid-air.
Dylan licked his ice cream, waiting for the playful smile. It didn’t come, and frustration bolted through him.
“I was about to kiss you back there, Camila. What do you think is going on here?” Dylan lowered his cone and watched her. Watched the pure fear roll across her face. Watched a blush stain her cheeks.
He leaned over and pressed his mouth against her blush on the right, and then the left. “Don’t answer that, okay?” He stepped back and started walking again. “I won’t call you my girlfriend when I tell my mom.”
She caught up to him, but she didn’t say anything. Just licked the edge of her ice cream sandwich and then bit it, one ruby-red lip on each side. Dylan wanted to kiss her very badly, taste the chocolate and vanilla on her tongue, mess that lipstick up a little.
He looked away and caged his fantasies. She didn’t even want to be called his girlfriend, and while he’d thought she’d definitely let him kiss her while they were alone in the park, it was obviously a different matter being called his while in a group of people. His family.
“We’ve only been out twice,” she said when they reached his truck. “Girlfriend is just a little fast for me.”
“All right,” Dylan said, hoping some of that calm, coolness she’d accused him of earlier had infused his voice. He flashed her a smile, thinking I don’t need the label right now. I like her. She obviously likes me. That’s enough.
“How about lunch tomorrow?” he asked. “And then we can go out to the ranch.”
“I eat lunch,” she said, which caused Dylan to laugh.
He threaded his fingers through hers again, enjoying the sensation of her skin against his and the scent of that soap on her neck.
The following morning, Dylan stopped by his mom and dad’s before his lunch date with Cami.
“Mom,” he called as he pushed into the red brick rambler.
“In the garden,” came the reply.
He went past the steps leading upstairs, where his childhood bedroom still held football trophies and his old baseball mitt. His father sat at the kitchen counter, doing something on his tablet. “Hey, Dad.” Dylan didn’t even slow down as he pushed the sliding glass door farther open and stepped into the backyard.
“Hey, Ma.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on top of her head. She stood and gave him a hug, patting him on the back.
“How are you?” She stepped back and brushed her hands together. “What are you doing here?”
Dylan couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “I came to let you know I’m bringing a woman to the barbecue.”
Shock painted his mother’s face, which also broke into a grin. “A woman? Troy!”
“Oh, Dad doesn’t need to know,” Dylan said too late, as his father appeared in the doorway.
“What?” he asked.
“Dylan’s bringing someone to the barbecue.”
“In three weeks,” Dylan said. “We might break up by then.” He didn’t mention that Cami wasn’t even his girlfriend. They were definitely dating; she couldn’t deny that. Well, she probably could. Dylan didn’t want to think about it.
“Oh, Dylan.” His mother slapped him with her gardening gloves. “What’s her name?”
“Camila Cruz.”
“The plumber?” his dad asked.
“Yep.” Dylan grinned. “We both won the bid at the new housing project going in up north.”
“You won the bid?” His mom shrieked and threw herself into his arms.
Dylan laughed. “Mom, I work for the city, remember?”
“You worked hard on that bid.”
He had worked hard on that bid, so he took their congratulations and even let his mom text all his sisters with him standing right there.
“I have to go,” he said a few minutes later, after his dad had poured him sweet tea and his mother had asked him if he wanted a breakfast sandwich. He’d declined, but he’d thought seriously about saying yes. His mother was the best cook in the county, maybe even the whole state of Texas. Her fried egg breakfast sandwiches could bring in a mass of people, but Dylan wanted to be hungry when he went to lunch with Cami.
“Stop by tonight,” his mom implored as she walked him to the door. “Sally’s coming with the kids because Hugh is out of town. I’m making sausage Alfredo pizza.”
Dylan’s stomach roared at the thought of that pizza. “I’ll tell Boone too.”
“Yes.” His mother’s eyes sparkled as if she hadn’t had anyone to cook for in years. “Tell him to bring Nicole.”
Dylan waved and headed out the front door, his thumbs sending the message to Boone. He’d bring Nicole, and for the first time in a while, Dylan’s jealousy didn’t rear up. He smiled and headed over to the older section of town, where Cami lived.
He passed the church and decided to swing into the parking lot real quick. He felt worlds out of his league with Cami, with the upcoming build, with t
aking his girlfriend—whether she wanted to be called that or not—to meet his family in three short weeks.
And he needed a little divine intervention. It seemed impossible that he hadn’t had the opportunity to attend church since the dinner with Cami. If he had, he wouldn’t feel so out of sorts.
He gazed up at the steeple on the church and took a moment to close his eyes. Breathe. Just breathe.
Help me with Camila Cruz, he prayed. He didn’t need a powerful feeling to overcome him. Prayer worked inside him, and it always made him feel better even if he never got a definitive answer.
But he felt more peaceful about his upcoming day, and his excitement for lunch and horseback riding returned.
“Thank you,” he verbalized as he backed out of the parking space and turned back onto the road. He drove toward her house, enjoying the lazy breeze and low traffic on this Saturday.
He pulled into the driveway of a small, white house that had a big porch that spanned the whole front and wrapped around both corners.
Rose bushes lined either side of the front steps, and a wind chime hung from the eaves. Her door was painted a nice shade of mint green, and the trees in this neighborhood were mature and tall, casting the houses in shade.
Dylan thought it absolutely fit Cami, and he waved to a blonde woman as he got out of his truck and started toward the door. Then he did a double-take. “Carole Anne?”
“Dylan Walker,” she said with a huge grin. “So she called you, huh?”
Dylan paused while still on the sidewalk and looked at her. “Uh, what?”
Carole Anne got up and started across the patch of lawn that separated the two properties. “She didn’t call you?”
“Nope.” He shook his head and accepted a quick hug from her. “How’s Levi? Things so exciting at the bank?” Dylan couldn’t imagine being cooped up in an office, wearing a suit and tie to work each day. But hey, he supposed there was a job for everyone.
“So exciting,” Carole Anne said. “So if she didn’t call you, why are you here?”
He leaned in close, a smile touching his mouth. “I called the emergency plumbing line. She had to answer.”
