Myra swallows, her stomach churning with nausea. She shakes her head.
Dylan clears his throat. “Ray was over here yesterday. Ray Nolen. He helped me with Myra’s cabinets. He’s never done anything, but he kind of has a thing for Myra. Then there’s Myra’s ex…”
“It couldn’t be Trent because he was in Philly yesterday. Susie actually got him on video.”
“Okay, well, that rules Trent out,” Porter says as he taps his pen against his notepad, “so we’re down to Ray and Derek. Is there anyone else?”
“I ran into Lucia at the store the other day, and she made a threat towards Myra.”
“What?” Myra gasps as she looks up at him. He pulls her closer to him with the arm he has wrapped around her and gently rubs her arm.
“What did she say?” Porter asks.
“Something about how she had her eye on Myra and that she’d better ‘watch herself’,” Dylan says with his eyes on Myra’s.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” she asks him.
“I didn’t want to worry you about it,” he says as he brings his free hand up and touches her cheek softly.
Porter clears his throat. “So we’ve got three suspects,” he says. “Is there anyone else you can think of?”
“Well, the day we got back from Philly, someone was sitting in a car watching us,” Dylan says. He then proceeds to tell Porter about the mysterious car they saw as well as Jackie’s account of what she saw when they were out of town.
“We’ll run the prints that we got off of your car, but I’m going to have to be honest here with you; we probably won’t get anything from it,” Porter tells Myra. “You don’t have to touch a car to slash the tires. We did get some good footprints since we had a little rain last night. Looks like a man’s size eight boot. We’ll try to track down the exact boot type and see if that leads us anywhere.
“I’ll also need to get a statement from Jackie and see if she saw anything last night,” Porter adds. He looks at Dylan. “Can you come outside and show me where the car was parked that you saw take off? That way we can look for any evidence like tire tracks, cigarette butts, and such.”
Dylan nods then looks down at Myra. “Will you be okay?” he asks her.
“Yeah… go ahead.”
He studies her face for a moment. “All right… I’ll be right back.”
After the door closes behind them, Myra takes in a deep breath and blows it out slowly. Who would do such a thing… and why? Could it be Derek? That’s a good possibility. She did stop his advances, and Dylan did kind of break his face. Myra still can’t believe what Lucia said about her to Dylan. She’s never done anything to her. And as far as Ray goes, Myra can’t imagine that he would have had anything to do with it. He’s always been overly flirtatious with her, but that’s about it. Unless he’s holding resentment that she chose Dylan over him, which is ridiculous because Ray wasn’t even in the equation.
She walks into the kitchen and pours herself a cup of coffee. Sitting down at the table, she stares at the patterns of the grain in the wood. The front door opens, and she listens as footsteps approach the kitchen. Dylan sits down next to her. “You doing all right?” he asks.
“Yeah… are you hungry? I made pancakes earlier. I can warm them up.”
“Nah, maybe later... Come here,” he says, tugging on her arm.
He pulls her into his lap and wraps his arms around her. “I’m either staying here tonight or you’re coming to my house so be thinking about it. I won’t let you stay alone.”
“But I—”
“This is not up for discussion.”
She sighs. “Okay. I guess I can stay at your house.”
“Good. I won’t let anybody hurt you…” he says fiercely as he squeezes her tightly against his chest making her feel safe and protected in his arms.
* * *
“Do you want me to start some supper?” Myra asks. “It’s after six.”
“Nah,” Dylan grunts as he finishes securing the last screw in the cabinet he’s working on and sets his power drill down. “We can just order a pizza or something when we get to my house.”
“I can’t believe how much you’ve gotten done today,” Myra says. “The cabinets look amazing.”
Dylan appraises his work and has to agree with her. They do look pretty damn good. “You picked them out. I’m just installing them.”
“Well, you’re doing a fantastic job. I can’t believe you know how to do all of this stuff,” she says as she wraps her arms around his neck. “Thank you.” She leans up and places a sweet kiss on his lips.
“Mmm, you’re welcome. I need to do a lot more shit around here if that’s how I’m going to be rewarded. No need for cash… I’ll just take your kisses.”
Myra smiles and kisses him again. Dylan deepens the kiss, running his tongue across her lips before he pulls back. “I’m gonna call it quits for today. Do you have your bag packed? I’m ready to go if you are.”
“Sure. Let me go grab it.”
Dylan puts his tools away while Myra gets her things together. He walks into the living room and finds her putting on her jacket. He picks up her bag for her. “You ready?” he asks.
“Yeah...”
After she locks up her house, he opens the passenger side door of his truck and helps her in. While walking around the truck, he shoves his hand in his coat pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes as he climbs in the driver’s side. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
Myra’s face scrunches up. “Yeah, kind of... My mom died of cancer. Not lung cancer or anything like that – it was cervical cancer – but I try to stay away from stuff like that since I’m at a risk for developing the disease.”
Dylan nods and stuffs the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. He takes in a deep breath. “I need to stop. It’s a nasty fucking habit. I didn’t start smoking until about a year ago…”
He clears his throat as he backs out of her driveway. “So when is your car going to be ready?”
“It’s done but they’re closed now so I figured we can pick it up in the morning.”
He frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not a big deal. You were busy with the cabinets, and I really didn’t want to leave it parked outside tonight since I still can’t park it in the garage with all of the boxes and the cabinets and everything. So I decided that we could just do it in the morning.”
Dylan nods. “I don’t want you worrying about all of this. We’ll figure out who is doing this shit and take care of it. I’ll make sure you’re safe, all right?”
“I’m not worried. And I can take care of myself.”
“Well, I’m sure you can, but I’ll feel better if I’m helping.”
He looks over at Myra, and she just smiles and shakes her head at him.
“I’ll get your door,” he says as he grabs her bag and exits the truck. He opens Myra’s door and holds her hand as she climbs down.
“We don’t have to order pizza,” she says as he opens his front door. “I can cook us something if you want.”
Dylan doesn’t say anything as he helps Myra take off her jacket and throws it on the couch. He swiftly picks her up and tosses her on his shoulder. “Fuck eating,” he growls as he playfully smacks her on the ass. “I have something else in mind.”
Myra squeals and giggles. “Dylan! Put me down!” she screams through her laughter.
“Not a fucking chance. I’ve got you in my house, woman, and now I’m gonna have my wicked way with you,” he says.
“But your back…”
Dylan ignores her protests and smacks her hard on the ass before he tosses her on his bed. He practically rips off his flannel shirt, and with one hand, he yanks off his T and throws it behind him.
“I’m gonna strip off every bit of clothing from your body and kiss every single inch of your flawless skin.” He licks his lips as he crawls up the bed towards her. “And I do mean every fucking inch.”
Myra giggles an
d screams and tries to get away from him, but Dylan’s too fast and grabs her foot. He rips her tennis shoe off and throws it across the room. Stripping her sock off, he kisses and playfully bites the bottom of her foot, causing her to jerk and shriek with laughter. Dylan has a lot of skin to cover, and he can’t wait to taste every last bit of it…
* * *
“You have to be starving,” Myra says, smiling, as she runs her hand through Dylan’s damp hair. His head rests on her chest, and he has both arms wrapped around her. He also has one leg possessively thrown over the top of both of hers. The man is indeed a cuddler. “You sure you don’t want me to cook us something?”
He hums contentedly as she continues to run her fingers through his hair. “I don’t have shit in the house to eat other than some hot pockets.”
“We could go to the store…”
“I don’t wanna go anywhere. Besides, if I see Marshall, I might have to kick his ass.”
Myra laughs. “You’re so crazy.”
Dylan’s lips touch her collarbone, her shoulder. “You make me crazy. Mmm… I like you all sweaty,” he hums against her skin. “I think I’ll just keep you sweaty all the time.”
Myra giggles happily and another hour goes by before they get their pizza ordered.
* * *
“Jesus, I’m full,” Dylan groans as he tosses his paper plate on the coffee table and leans back against the couch. He can’t believe he ate his half of the pizza and half of her half.
“You did work up an appetite,” Myra says with a laugh.
Dylan chuckles. “Guess so. Burning the sheets up like we did does take a lot out of a man.”
Myra smiles and takes a sip of her tea.
Dylan’s phone rings. Leaning forward, he picks it up off of the coffee table and looks at the caller ID. Seeing an unknown number, he tosses it back down. “Just someone wanting an estimate,” he mutters as he stands and scratches his bare chest. Looking down at Myra, he can’t help but smile at her wearing only his T-shirt. She looks so damn beautiful.
“I’m gonna grab another beer,” he says. “Do you want some more tea?”
“Sure,” she says as she hands him her glass.
After getting their drinks, his phone rings again just as he steps back into the living room. “Goddamn it,” he grumbles as he sets the drinks on the coffee table. “I’m gonna have to put that fucker on silent.” Grabbing the phone, he groans when he looks at the caller ID.
“Another estimate?” Myra asks.
“No, it’s my brother,” he says as he silences his phone and tosses it back on the coffee table. He sits down and takes a swig of his beer.
“Shouldn’t you answer it?”
Dylan shakes his head. “I’ll call him later.”
“I can go in the other room if you want.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Dylan growls as he grabs her and starts kissing her neck. The phone starts ringing again.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles as he reaches for it. He sees Chad’s name again and silences it and puts his lips back on Myra’s neck.
Myra shivers and smiles from his kisses but tries to push him away. “What if it’s an emergency?”
Dylan hadn’t thought about Natalie. He just assumed Chad was calling to harass him again. Frowning, he sits up and quickly grabs his phone, flipping it open.
“Yeah?” he answers.
“Hey, bro,” Chad says. “I didn’t think you were going to answer there for a minute. Nat’s having contractions again so she’s back in the hospital. We just got here a little while ago.”
Dylan swallows hard. “Shit. Is she okay?”
“We don’t know yet. They’ve got her into a room and started an IV.”
“Do you need me to come there?”
“No, I just wanted to let you know what was going on. Mom’s with the boys and she’s gonna spend the night with them tonight.”
“Do you guys need anything?”
“Nah, we’re good so far.”
Dylan clears his throat. “Well, tell her I’m thinking about her. Call me later and let me know what you find out.”
“I will. Uh, I’m out in the hallway, and it looks like there’s a doc coming. Gotta go.”
“Sure.”
Dylan sets his phone on the coffee table and drops his head into his hands.
Myra touches his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
He takes in a deep breath and blows it out slowly before looking up at her. “Yeah… No. My sister-in-law, Natalie, is in the hospital… early labor. She’s been on bed rest, but—”
“Oh, no,” Myra gasps, her eyes wide. “How far along is she?”
Dylan’s brows furrow. “I don’t even know. I think she has at least a couple of months left.”
“I really hope everything works out.”
Dylan tugs Myra against him and wraps his arms around her, leaning back against the couch. He props his bare feet up on the coffee table and sighs. “Me, too…” He holds her as he worries about his family... and his unborn niece.
* * *
Myra hears an alarm clock go off but she frowns because it doesn’t sound right. Someone groans next to her ear and a scratchy male voice mumbles, “Fucker,” and she immediately smiles in relief when she recognizes that angry voice. With her eyes still closed, she presses her nose against his neck and breaths him in. He smacks the snooze button and then presses himself tight up against her.
The combination of his warm body heat and the comfortable bed causes her to doze off again. When the alarm goes off a second time, Dylan growls and smacks it again – a little rougher this time – and snuggles closer to her. “Fuck, I could stay here forever with you like this,” he whispers in a husky voice.
Myra hums in agreement and smiles.
“I have to shower,” he says against her neck.
Myra runs her fingers through his hair and hums again.
His lips kiss behind her ear. “Take one with me.”
Her smile gets bigger. She hums again.
“My shower’s small,” he says before gently biting her neck.
She moans a little. “It is?”
“Yeah, you might have to wrap your legs around my waist to make room for the both of us.”
She laughs lightly. “I like that idea.”
He presses his hardness against her. “My cock might get in the way. Do you have somewhere I can put it?”
Myra moans again, louder this time. “Yeah,” she says, her lips slightly parted.
Dylan stands and picks her up, his hands grasping her ass as she wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and he carries her to the bathroom. He presses her up against the bathroom door and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head and covers her mouth. “Morning breath,” she mumbles.
“I don’t give a shit. We ate the same thing last night.”
“Onions,” she reminds him, scrunching her nose up.
His brows pull together sharply and his lower lip sticks out a little, but he does set her down. She grabs her toothbrush and toothpaste out of her bag as he flips on the water. She joins him back at the sink as he starts to brush his teeth. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, she can’t help but smile. His hair is sticking up all over his head from her fingers constantly being in it, the scruff on his face is scruffier and he has a bit of toothpaste on his chin. And he has an erection. He’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen in her life especially when he gives her a big, frothy smile back in the mirror.
After both of them swirl some mouthwash, Dylan starts the shower and pulls the curtain back, letting her get in first. He follows after her and she turns to face him, backing up into the spray, letting the water soak her hair and run down her back.
Dylan’s hands find her breasts and within moments, his mouth sucks roughly on her nipple. His hands move, seemingly everywhere at once, causing her skin to tingle and ignite. His long fingers explore the needy place between her legs, rubbing and pi
nching. His lips crash against hers; she can feel his need, his want in every touch.
Lifting her, she wraps her legs around his waist as he presses her back against the cold tiles. She gasps, the cold sensation shocking her skin. With one swift movement he sheaths himself deep inside of her, causing her to cry out.
“Fuck,” he groans, panting heavily against her ear as he begins sliding quickly in and out of her.
“Oh, god… Dylan.”
“You feel so fucking good.”
His pace gets faster, his breathing more labored as he presses her harder against the tiles. She wants to see him lose control; lose himself with her, inside of her.
“Shit,” he grunts as he squeezes her ass tighter and seems to somehow thrust even deeper inside of her. “Fuck,” he pants, his grip tightening as he pulses hard inside of her, grunting and groaning with each thrust while finding his release.
He sags against her, leaning his forehead against the tiles, panting heavily. She drops to her feet. “You okay?” she asks.
“No,” he says between heavy breaths. “I almost fucking passed out.”
She turns the faucet from hot to cool and pushes him into it. He leans his head back into the water, letting it run over his face. Wiping the water from his eyes, he looks down at her, his cheeks pink and red splotches on his chest from the exertion. She loves seeing him like that, knowing that she caused it. He smiles and slowly shakes his head. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, woman.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad way to die, would it?” she asks with a grin. Reaching for the soap, she lathers it up in her hands.
He stares into her eyes for a moment. “No. That would be one hell of a way to go out.”
She smiles as she starts soaping up his chest; she plans on washing every square inch of his incredible body.
* * *
Dylan slips on his boots and sits down on the edge of the bed, watching as Myra puts on her socks and shoes.
“Did you ever find out how Natalie’s doing?” she asks.
Color of Forgiveness Page 18
