by Liz Isaacson
“Tell your boyfriend hi,” he said.
Dahlia hit send on her message and looked into her partner’s eyes. “I will.”
Fresh from a nap, and with hair four inches shorter, Dahlia slipped on a pair of sandals she hadn’t worn since last summer. The gold straps crisscrossed over the top of her foot, and she buckled them just as Kyler knocked on her front door.
“Hey there,” she said when she opened the door.
“Hey yourself.” He swept into her house, right into her personal space, and kissed her. Giddy with excitement and feeling more like herself than she had in months, she giggled and kissed him back.
“A real date,” he said, pulling away but keeping her in his arms. “You know, I wasn’t sure this would ever happen.”
Dahlia’s joy dampened, and she looked into his pretty eyes. “My work isn’t always this intense.” She smoothed down the collar on his red polo and asked, “Should we go?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” He wore a pair of jeans that seemed the same hue as his eyes, and Dahlia hoped she hadn’t dressed up too much. Her black shorts went down halfway to her knee, and she’d paired them with a blue tank top with a huge gold star in the center of it. Thus, the gold sandals completed the summery date look.
“You look fantastic,” he murmured as he captured her hand in his and led her down the front steps. “And I found your house easy-peasy.”
She lived in one of the oldest neighborhoods in Brush Creek, with narrow streets and squatty houses in a neat row. But there was only one road into the neighborhood, and it was right off the river.
“Thank you,” she said, beaming up at him as he opened the passenger door to his truck and waited for her to get in. “For waiting for me too,” she added, not sure why she’d spoken.
A measure of confusion ran through his eyes. “Waiting for you?”
“Waiting for this date,” she said with a little shrug, not wanting to make something that wasn’t a big deal into something that was.
“You’re worth the wait, Dahlia,” he said, his voice real low, barely leaving his throat. He bent down and touched his lips to her forehead, sliding lower to her cheek, and then fully placing a kiss on her lips.
She breathed him in like he was pure oxygen and she was drowning. Just when the kiss was about to turn scandalous, Kyler pulled away. “Okay, wow,” he said. “We should go.” He left her standing next to the open door, and she climbed into the truck while he circled it.
“Sorry,” he said as he started the car and adjusted the air conditioning. “That was…well, my mother wouldn’t approve of kissing like that.” He glanced at her, a wicked smile on his face. “I think we’re consenting adults, but we should probably….” He trailed off, obviously unsure of how to finish.
“Go slow,” Dahlia supplied. “Take our time. Get to know each other.”
“Yeah.” He put the truck in gear and backed out of her narrow driveway. “All of that.”
“Can I sit by you?” she asked, the distance between them just a little too far for her. She wasn’t sure why her feelings for Kyler had developed so quickly, but she didn’t want to obsess over it either. She liked him; he liked her. They kissed. It was normal.
“Of course, sweetheart.” He patted the seat directly next to him, and Dahlia slid over so her leg was flush with his. After taking his hand in hers, she directed him toward Teddy’s, and then asked him what his role was in his family’s business.
Chapter Eleven
Teddy’s was clearly the place to be in Maple Mountain. Even though it was only Monday, parked cars took up the entire parking lot and had started to creep down the road in both directions.
The building sat really close to the road, out on the highway that was entering Maple Mountain, and though Kyler came this way often, he’d never stopped to find out what this old barn-like building was.
There was no sign, and he almost kept driving when Dahlia said, “I think this is it.”
Their earlier kiss burned in his mind. Wow, he liked her. A lot more than he’d even thought. He liked her strength. Her work ethic, even if it did keep them apart until later in the evening. He liked her beauty, and the way she held his hand like she needed him to keep her grounded. And the way she kissed him…it was like she couldn’t get enough, like if she didn’t have him, she couldn’t keep breathing.
Kyler liked a whole lot about her, including that even though she was a tough detective, she still made him feel like he was the one protecting her. The one lending her his strength.
“Nowhere down there,” she said, scanning a row of parking out her side of the truck.
“I think we’re going to have to park on the street,” he said. He pulled out of the lot and continued past the brown barn with double-wide white doors. “And that place doesn’t look that big. Are we sure we want to go here?”
“I’ve got nothin’ else to do,” she said. “And Gray said this place has the best sandwiches in the county. And you love sandwiches.” Her fingers on his tightened. “We can wait, right?
Kyler could do a lot of things with Dahlia at his side, so he said, “Sure,” and kept driving until he came to the end of the parked cars. He pulled in beside a red sedan and got out, towing Dahlia with him out his door. They made the walk back to the restaurant hand-in-hand while he contemplated asking her about a more sensitive subject.
“So,” he said. “You know about my family. I know about yours. I’ve blathered on long enough about my job. You don’t really talk about yours.” He paused at the doorway, one hand on the long handle. “What about church? Do you go?”
He opened the door and a wall of noise hit him. The country music coming from the place could make a deaf man cringe, and while Kyler wanted to sample the sandwiches, he also wanted a more intimate date with Dahlia.
Thankfully, before they stepped inside, the music ended and someone said, “That’s it for now, folks. Bluegreen Grass will be back at nine p.m. for their evening performance. CDs are available from your server or the front counter.”
Inside, only a handful of people waited, and Kyler stepped over to the counter to give his name. He found Dahlia sitting on the end of a split log bench, those long legs teasing him mightily. He sat next to her and said, “Ten minutes.”
“That’s nothing.” She smiled at him. “I go to church sometimes.” She carefully placed her hand in his as if testing the waters. He watched as their fingers joined together, a sensation shooting up his arm and buzzing along his shoulders.
“I’m usually pretty tired on Sundays, as it’s the only day I don’t go in. Though, sometimes I do, like last week. I usually go to my parents’ and have lunch with them.”
“I go every week,” he said. “Do you think that will be a problem for us?”
“I don’t see why,” she said, meeting his gaze. He couldn't quite see the depth of her emotions in the dimmer light, so he simply squeezed her hand.
“I’d like to come with you,” she said. “I’ve always liked going to church.”
“Why’s that?” he asked.
She took a few moments to answer, and Kyler wondered if she would. Finally, she said, “I like being reminded of the good in the world. Sometimes I feel so steeped in the bad, you know?”
Kyler didn’t quite know, but he could imagine some of the things she’d seen and been exposed to because of her job. “Why’d you choose to be a police officer?” he asked.
“My father was a police officer,” she said, her whole face lighting up. “He’d take me to work with him sometimes, and I couldn’t imagine anything better.” Her smile made Kyler’s whole night and he shifted a tiny bit closer to her.
“He worked his way up to Chief of Police in Vernal,” Dahlia said. “It was in my blood to be an officer.”
“What’s the difference between an officer and a detective?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t write tickets. I don’t patrol. I don’t work for a police department,” she said. “I work for a unified police fo
rce in this part of the state, and we fall under the state troopers.”
“Like McDermott.”
“Right, but he’s not over me either. Me and Gray, we’re…sort of on our own. We handle federal cases that come our way in this part of Utah. We handle some higher-level state things too, like what McDermott does, but he does a lot more patrolling, traffic control, all that kind of stuff.” She took a big breath. “Here’s a good way to think of it. McDermott finds the bad guys, the pieces to a crime puzzle, and we figure out how all the pieces fit together. We interview, handle witnesses, and put everything together to solve the crime.”
Kyler liked the way she came alive when she spoke about her work. “Which do you like better? The patrolling or the solving?”
“Definitely the solving.”
Smart, strong, and sexy. It was a dangerous combination—one Kyler had no defense against, but he didn’t need one.
“So maybe….” Dahlia looked up through her lashes at him. “Maybe—”
“Kyler?” The hostess stood several feet away, two menus in her hand.
He stood with Dahlia and they followed the woman through the restaurant to a table in the corner. “This place is so cool,” he said. “I can’t believe I’ve driven past this barn for years and never known what was inside.”
The waitress set their menus down and walked away, leaving Kyler to admire the old wooden beams in the ceiling, the eclectic décor on the walls, and the raised stage at the other end of the room.
There was everything from beautiful watercolor paintings of horses and the red bluffs just south of here, to black and white photographs of cowboys, several old horseshoes, and a few cattle skulls nailed to the walls.
He looked back at Dahlia with a smile. “I’m glad we came here.”
“Me too.” She picked up her menu and looked at it, her dark hair barely falling softly over her shoulders.
“Hey,” he said. “You got your hair cut.”
She grinned at him then, such a full-watt smile that he realized he hadn’t truly seen her smile yet.
“I did. This afternoon.” She tossed her hair back and it settled behind her so he could see her bare shoulders.
He swallowed and said, “I like it.”
“Thanks.”
Kyler picked up his own menu. “What were you saying we could maybe do?”
She didn’t look away from the menu. “Well, church is at ten-thirty, right? What if we went together, and then you came with me to lunch with my parents?”
Kyler abandoned the search for the best sandwich on the menu. He’d have to ask the waiter, because his brain had just shorted out. “You want me to meet your parents? Tomorrow?”
“Might as well get it over with.” She shrugged and reached for her water glass as the waiter appeared and set it down.
There was something behind those words, but Kyler wasn’t the detective and couldn’t quite piece together what. He ordered his soda and an appetizer of cheese and bacon fries before asking the teen who’d come to wait on them which was the best sandwich on the menu.
“Do you like steak?”
“Who doesn’t like steak?”
The teen grinned and pointed to something called The Viking. “You’ll want that. It’s steak, tomato, avocado, some of our special sauce, with a fried egg.”
Kyler started salivating just thinking about it. “Yep, that’s what I want.”
“I can add grilled onions too, if you want.” He held his pen at the ready.
Kyler glanced at Dahlia, who was watching him with a sparkle in her eye he didn’t quite get. He thought about kissing her later with onion breath and said, “No, I’ll pass on the onions.”
“And for you?” The waiter twisted toward Dahlia.
“I want the same as him.” She nodded toward Kyler and said, “But with the onions,” as if she knew his reasoning for declining them.
Kyler shook his head and managed to wait until the teenager had moved away before laughing.
“Hey, Dad.” Kyler entered his parents’ house on Wednesday night to find his father sitting in the front living room, where they usually only entertained guests. “What are you doing in here?”
“Oh, your mother is in a rant about the grill and I figured this would be the best place to wait until she calls for me.” He set aside his newspaper, where Kyler knew he was working on the crossword puzzle.
“How’s the dating scene?” His dad knew Kyler had been trying to find a girlfriend. Everyone in the family knew. He’d been set up by Jazzy and Fabi more times than he could count. Even Tate had gotten him a date or two through the ranch wives at the horse farm up the canyon where he boarded his horse.
Kyler sat down on the piano bench where his mother had tortured them all with lessons until they could play decently well. “I think I found myself someone.” He couldn’t help the giddy grin that pulled at his mouth.
His father smiled too. “Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky woman?”
“Dahlia Reid?” he said, testing to see if his dad knew her. When nothing registered in his father’s blazing blue eyes, Kyler added, “She used to be a police officer here in town. Now she’s a detective for the county. Or state. Or something. I don’t really get it.” He laughed, cutting the sound off when he heard his mother yell from the other room.
“I got it,” he told his dad, leaning down to give him a quick half-hug before heading down the hall and into the kitchen. The house where he’d grown up was massively huge, with a table big enough to seat them all inside. His mom had started adding more chairs too, as their family had expanded with spouses and grandchildren. Their weekly dinner fell on Wednesday nights, and Kyler had watched his brothers and sisters come and go for years. He loved the family dinner and hadn’t missed it in years, except when he was super sick or way behind on his jobs.
He spotted his mother through the window, standing in the outdoor kitchen with her hands on her hips. She had hair the color of ripe wheat that he knew she maintained with a trip to the salon every month. Her bright blue eyes turned from annoyed to pleased when he stepped outside and said, “What do you need help with, Mom?”
“Kyler, dear, how are you?”
“Just fine.” He looked at the grill. “What’s goin’ on here?” She’d taken out the pieces where the food usually cooked and had laid them haphazardly on the end of the grill where the utensils usually were.
“It won’t light.”
No wonder his father had retreated to the sitting room to do a crossword puzzle. Kyler moved closer to the grill. “Is there gas in the tank?”
“Of course there is. I know how to check that.”
Kyler almost flinched away from her irritated tone, but he checked anyway. The meter on the propane tank was clear. “Mom, this is empty.”
“No, I checked it.”
He hefted the tank out from the back of the grill. “Look, it’s clear. That means no gas.”
“No, clear means it’s full.”
He cocked his head at her, amused by her confusion and slightly annoyed that she didn’t believe him. “When’s the last time you bought a new propane tank?”
“I don’t buy them. Your dad does.”
“And what did he say about this?”
She wiped her newly cut bangs out of her face, clearly frustrated. A hint of redness entered her face that had nothing to do with the summer heat. “He said we probably needed a new tank,” she mumbled.
A burst of laughter came out of Kyler’s mouth. He silenced it quickly at her cross look. “I’ll go get a refill,” he said. “You put this mess back together.”
“Hurry up,” she called after him. “Wren and Tate are coming tonight and they’re bringing their baby.”
Kyler didn’t quite understand why that mattered. Dinner wouldn’t be ready any faster just because a baby was coming. But whatever. He drove to the hardware store and traded in the empty tank for a new one and got on back to his parents’ house as quickly as he could.
He’d just finished hooking up the new tank to the grill when his sister burst through the French doors from the house. “You’re dating Dahlia Reid?”
“Hey, Wren,” he said. She bounced the cutest little girl on her hip. Etta had been born completely bald and it had taken six months for the baby to grow any hair. It wisped about her face now as she stared at Kyler with a grumpy look on her face.
He walked closer and cooed at her. “Hey, sweet Etta. How are you?”
She smiled and warmed right up to him, and Wren passed the baby to Kyler to hold. “So? Dahlia?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We’re going out.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Wren.” He sighed, the thought of explaining how he and Dahlia had met to the various members of his family one by one overwhelming. “Since I went to the cabin. She was caught out in the—”
Jazzy, one of the twins, burst through the backdoor. “Wait! Are you talking about Dahlia?”
“How do you guys even know about us?” he asked.
“It’s a small town,” Jazzy said, panting as she caught her breath. Fabi joined them on the patio, her eyes just as wide.
“Dahlia Reid?” Fabi said it like Dahlia wasn’t worth his time.
“I talked to a customer in Maple Mountain, who said he saw you with someone at Teddy’s,” Wren said. “He said she was the detective, and well, that’s Dahlia.” She gave him a quick smile. “Unless you’re dating Gray Salisbury.”
“Ha ha,” Kyler said. “What’s wrong with Dahlia?” he asked Fabi.
“Nothing,” she said, a conceited air in her word.
“She’s….” Jazzy exchanged a glance with Fabi before continuing with, “Perfect for you, actually.”
Kyler rolled his eyes. “Glad my sisters approve.”
Tate appeared in the doorway, a huge brown pastry box in his hand that could only mean one thing: doughnuts. He grinned at Kyler. “You and Dahlia. Nice.” He maneuvered over to the counter and set the box down. “She’s smart. Tough, but I liked her.”
