A frown appeared on his face and his beautiful eyes clouded over. Focusing intently on the road in front of us, he turned up the music and acted as if I never asked the question. I wanted to take it back but couldn’t. When we got upstairs to the apartment, he said he had stuff to do. I carried Amelia, who was fretting again, into the bedroom and got us both ready for her to nurse. Dillon came in and out a few times while I was doing this, but he never once looked in our direction. Right as I pulled Amelia to my breast he told me he was going to go to the gym and then straight to work, that I shouldn’t count on seeing him until late.
Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?
I spent the night cleaning up Dillon’s disgusting apartment and doing his laundry. I felt it was the least I could do. The second my head hit the pillow, I was out. The next morning, I heard him rustling around in the kitchen. Throwing on one of his clean shirts, I left Amelia sleeping on the bed and made my way out to the kitchen. Dillon was already dressed in jeans and a form fitting black Nirvana T.
“Nice shirt,” he said, handing me a cup of coffee.
I gave him a sheepish grin. “It was the closest thing to me. I can go change, if it bothers you.”
“Naw, I’m good. I’m out of here anyway.” At my questioning look, he said he had inventory at the bar and to not expect to see him around until it was over. When I asked when he expected that to be, he just shrugged. Then he explained how he had bought groceries before coming home last night and to call if I needed anything. Before I could ask anything else, he was out the door.
Three days later I was beyond frustrated. I had seen Dillon all of thirty minutes and twenty of those, he’d spent on the phone with his brother. Talk about shutting someone out. How was I supposed to get back in if I never saw him? Did I even want back in? I wasn’t sure. Dillon Whitaker could be one cold man.
I was about to make a sandwich for lunch when I heard a knock at the door. Amelia had just nursed and was passed out smack in the middle of Dillon’s huge bed. Brutus gave a half woof from the living room. Before he unleashed a torrent of noise and woke up the baby, I sprinted out of the bedroom, across the living room and flung open the front door. A cute redheaded woman shot past me, acting as if she was being chased by the devil himself. I watched her jump up and down in what appeared to be some new twerking type dance. Not sure what to do, I just stood there staring at her. Brutus, on the other hand, decided to join in on the fun by nuzzling her crotch. Letting out a squeal of surprise, she squatted down, flung her arms around his neck and started kissing his big black nose. Seeming happy with this result, he flopped onto the floor and gave her sandaled foot a big swipe with his tongue. I glared at him. So much for owning a protective dog.
“What is he?” the redhead squealed. I wanted to tell her to keep her voice down, but thought that might be rude.
“A dog?” I half-questioned, half-answered. Had she never seen a dog before?
She let out a dramatic gasp and whispered, “No shit? So that’s what a dog looks like. I’ve always wondered.” The expression of awe on her face was rather disturbing. Who in the world has never heard of a dog before? I was wondering who this nutty-as-a-fruitcake person was I had just willy-nilly let into Dillon’s home, when she burst into gales of laughter. “The expression on your face is…priceless!” she hee-hawed.
“Ummmm,” was all I could manage to say. Who was this odd person?
“I wasn’t asking what he was, as in what he was, silly. I wanted to know what breed,” she managed to say through her giggles.
“Oh, sorry,” I snorted, “He’s a mastiff-lab mix.”
“Gage would love him!” she squealed.
“Gage?”
“My fiancé,” she said, holding up her hand to show off the honking diamond ring on her finger.
I didn’t want to be rude, but I had stuff to do. Assuming she was a friend of Dillon’s, I said, “Dillon’s not here right now.”
“I know. I just left him at the bar. He thinks I have cramps.” I had no clue what to say to this. “Oh!” she loudly yelled, causing Brutus to woof and me to jump. “Dumb ass me! I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Piper O’Connell. Dillon and I work together at Dragonfly and you, my dear, are the reason he has been acting all out of sorts the past few days.” Before I could get a word in, she continued. “I saw you walk into the bar the other night. I probably wouldn’t have noticed, but being that it was a private party, everyone saw you walk in.” I gave myself an imaginary smack in the forehead. Great timing as usual, Isabella. “Anyway, my best friend, Ellie and I put two and two together.” She took a deep breath and stared at me.
I stared back. Of course Amelia would pick that second to squawk like a baby bird calling out to its mommy. Before I could make a move, Piper gasped and took off for the bedroom. Jeeze the girl is fast, I thought, as I sprinted after. Right as she hit the door, she put on the brakes and I had to swerve down the hall to keep from mowing her over.
“Holy shit…a baby!” she exclaimed.
Momma bear instincts roared through me. Before she went all Roadrunner on me again, I brushed past her and swooped down on Amelia. “Hey baby girl,” I cooed. Once I had Amelia settled in my arms, I turned and asked, “Who are you, again?”
For the next hour, Piper told me a little bit about herself and the dynamics of Dillon’s group of friends, while, of course, holding Amelia. The girl was tenacious. When it was my turn to talk, I told her as much as I felt comfortable saying. I told her Dillon and I were ‘old friends’ from Charleston and I was just visiting for the week. Before I knew it, we were chatting like we’d known each other for years. Dillon was lucky to be surrounded by such great people. I only had Sally and my uncle. At some point, Piper’s phone rang. The poor girl spent over ten minutes convincing her fiancé she was safe. I knew all too well what a domineering boyfriend was about. Cut your losses and run, I wanted to tell her, but didn’t.
Right before leaving, Piper invited me to a pot luck dinner they were having at some guy named Max’s garage tonight. It sounded fun but…questionable. I mean, who eats dinner at a gas station? Before I could say yes or no, she grabbed my phone and punched in her number. She said she’d call me with details later and, in a flash she was gone.
I spent the next thirty minutes processing Piper O’Connell while feeding Amelia. This got me thinking about how Dillon was avoiding us. Obviously he wasn’t interested in spending any time with us. This led to my decision to take Piper up on her offer.
“It looks as if we are going to a gas station party tonight sweet girl. Mommy needs to get to the grocery store so she can make her famous artichoke parmesan dip.” Amelia gurgled and I smiled. This was all I needed in the world to get by. Who wants a sexy, but ice cold man anyway? Not me. Norsiree….I just need my kid and my dog. That’s it.
After changing Amelia’s diaper and taking Boo out to pee, I left Dillon a note and headed to the grocery for ingredients. When we got back, his jeep was in the drive. Finally, he’s home.
Amelia was out like a light, so I quietly lifted her car seat from the car and carried her into the apartment. I could hear Dillon’s shower running, so I left her outside the kitchen in her bucket. “Watch her,” I whispered to Brutus, and smiled when he protectively flopped down onto the floor next to her. Quickly, I made my way back out to the car and grabbed the groceries. When I got back in, the shower was off. Good, we’ll get a chance to talk before the party. After prepping the dip, I turned on the oven to preheat and realized Dillon hadn’t appeared yet. Where is he? Quietly, so as not to wake Amelia, I headed back to the bedroom to check on him. His door was slightly ajar and I peered inside to make sure he was decent before barging in. At first I couldn’t make out what was happening. When it hit my brain, I stepped back and covered my hand over my mouth.
Oh my.
I stared at the door for a second, debating what to do. Not able to help myself, I stepped back up and peered inside. Dillon was sitting on the bed, his bac
k against the headboard, knees drawn up and spread wide enough apart for me to see it all. Boy was there a lot to see. Both of his feet were planted firmly on the mattress and his hips moved up and down as he stroked his rigidly hard cock in and out of his fisted hand. His head rested back against the headboard and I couldn’t see his face. I wanted, no needed, to see his face as he pleasured himself. In the back of my mind, I knew it was wrong to watch but nothing…I mean nothing…could make me look away. As if sensing me there, his head shot up and his silver eyes landed right on the door. I held my breath. If I don’t move, he won’t know I’m here. Three seconds later, his head dropped back and his rhythm picked up. Up and down he stroked, all the while releasing small grunts of pleasure. I swear I felt each and every one between my legs. He picked up his speed and I panted with him. Up and down he fiercely pumped. My nipples painfully tightened and my clit ached with pent up lust. I rubbed my hands over my breasts, hoping to ease the lust. I had never wanted anything as much as I wanted inside that room. Jets of semen covered his chest and I fought back a moan. As Dillon started to sit up, I backed away from the door.
Quietly, I scurried to the front door and fanned myself. Pretending I had just arrived home, I opened the door and loudly closed it. Two seconds later, I opened the hot oven and slid the dip in. When I closed it back, Dillon was standing in front of me with his arms crossed and a skeptical look on his face.
I jumped and placed my hand over my heart as if he had frightened me. Then I put on an award winning show. “Oh! You scared me! Where did you come from?” I asked.
His eyes scanned over my face before answering, “The bedroom.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, shrugging.
He patted the top of Brutus’s head. “I’m heading back to Dragonfly for a bit. Don’t wait up on me.” He said this as if I had waited up on him every other night this week. Big jerk.
Smiling brightly, I said, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes narrowed and I really wanted to stick out my tongue or give him the middle finger. Instead, I simply said, “Have a good night.”
With a silver eyed glare and a backward wave of his hand, he was gone and I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew. Shrugging it off, I finished making my dip and waited for Piper to call with directions.
Chapter Six
Dillon
‡
Isabella’s sugar sweet, “I wouldn’t dream of it. Have a good night,” stuck in my craw like a festering mouth sore. If I didn’t know better, I would think she was up to something. I debated whether or not to go back inside and ask, but was already late for work. Damn.
Tonight was supposed to be my night off. Right as I was about to jump in the shower, Polly called and told me her aunt was sick and she needed to cancel her shift. I was tired. Ever since Piper’s kidnapping, I hadn’t slept well and it was starting to catch up with me. All I wanted was a night in front of the television with a cold beer and a large pizza. A part of me wanted to hang out with Isabella, but another part of me wanted her gone. She had already taken up enough space in my life. What if she is screwing with my head? I wanted her. Who wouldn’t? She was, hands down, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. That doesn’t mean she’s not a liar and a manipulator.
“Fuck!” I shouted, slamming my hands on the steering wheel. I really did not want to go to work.
The past four days had been a complete shit show. We were short staffed at Dragonfly and then I not only learned Isabella wasn’t happily married, but also that I might be a father. In a matter of moments, my life had turned into a fucking mess. I am handling it poorly. I realized this even as I was doing it, but I just couldn’t figure out how else to handle it. I’m not husband material and I sure as shit am not father material. I watched my parents destroy each other. Who the fuck needs that? Not me and certainly not Isabella. Still… every time I looked at that baby girl my fingers itched to touch her. With a head full of fuzzy black hair and big blue eyes, she is the spitting image of her mother. Ibby. Sexy-as-hell-Ibby, with her pink lips, raspy voice and lush body was killing me and it was turning out to be a slow, painfully erotic death. Take earlier tonight, for example. After my shower, I sat on the bed for a second to regroup before getting dressed and all I could smell was her flowery citrus scent everywhere. The next thing I knew I was parked in the middle of the bed jacking my cock as if my life depended on it. Who the fuck does that? At one point, I could swear I felt her standing outside the bedroom door. Instead of being embarrassed, as I should have been, I was so turned on I shot my load all over my chest and had to shower all over again. Yep, seriously messed up shit.
As I pulled in to the parking lot at Dragonfly, it hit me that Amelia might be my child. The thought I could be a dad ripped my insides apart. I know nothing about how to be a father and, even if I did, would Isabella expect me to marry her? Run the fuck away, Dillon. Taking a deep breath, I swung myself out of the jeep and headed inside.
Three hours later as I was in the back finishing inventory, I heard Lena yell from the bar.
“D, Cas is on line one!”
“Got it!” I shouted and picked up the phone. “What’s up, my man? Did you get the information on those two townhomes for sale?”
“No, I’m calling to tell you your gorgeous friend from Charleston is here at MMG and Dana just walked in looking for you.” Cas responded.
“What?” I asked, wondering if I’d heard him right.
“You heard me, now what do you want me to do about it?”
“Is the baby with her?”
“Yep.”
Fuck!
“Don’t let Dana anywhere near them. I’m on my way.” I hung up the phone and snagged my keys off the desk. Dana was a problem I did not need right now. A repeat problem. “Lena!” I shouted, as I made my way toward the bar.
“Here, boss!” she called out. Thank God tonight was a slow one.
“Can you handle closing on your own?”
“I’ll be here with her,” some dude drinking at the bar said.
I gave her an, Are-you-okay-with-this, questioning look. She gave me a smile and a wink.
Good, one less thing to worry about.
I made it to the garage in record time. The whole way there questions pinged through my head. How did Isabella find out about MMG? What was she doing there? What would Dana do if she ran into Isabella before I got there? The whole Ellie incident had me on edge and I had learned Dana Harkins was not a nice person…especially when she felt threatened.
I could hear Johnny Cash singing Folsom Prison Blues as I pulled in. The volume was jacked up way too loud for a baby’s sensitive hearing. This irritated me. I made my way around back in search of Ibby. Right as I spotted her, Dana pounced.
“There’s my big man! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she purred. She reached for me but I pulled back before she could get her hands on me.
Rolling her eyes she let out a huff. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad?”
Her flippant attitude hit me wrong. “What are you doing here?” I coldly asked.
“I’m here for you, silly,” she snorted.
“I see that, but who invited you?”
She paused for a second, probably to think up some bullshit lie. Not in the mood, I answered for her. “No one invited you, Dana. Funny how that keeps happening…and yet, you keep showing up.”
Placing her hand on her hips, she poked out her fake tits and rolled her overly large bottom lip down into what I assumed was supposed to be a pout. Once again, I wondered what I ever saw in her. I couldn’t help but glance over at Isabella, who was laughing at something Cas was saying. She had on jeans that highlighted her ass in ways that brought to mind any number of inappropriate thoughts. You would never suspect she was a new mother. Amelia squawked from her car seat, which was stationed at Cas’ feet. I started to go get her but Cas beat me to it. When he leaned down and lifted her out, something twisted deep inside me. What the fuck? Without missing a beat, Cas rocked Amelia in his
arms, as if he had done it a thousand times before. All the while, he smiled and carried on with Isabella. Suddenly I felt as if a seventy pound weight was sitting on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
“Dillon!” Dana snapped her fingers in my face. “Why do you keep staring at that woman with Cas? Who is she?” The tone of her voice caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.
“You need to leave,” I told her.
Stepping back, she dramatically placed her hand over her chest. “You’re being so mean. Is it because of that woman?” She clicked her tongue and let out a huff of indignation. “Just look at those thighs. If that were me, I wouldn’t be caught dead in such tight jeans after squeezing out a kid.” She announced this right as the music stopped and was loud enough for everyone to hear. The hurt look on Ibby’s face gutted me, not to mention the glares from all of my friends.
“That’s it, you’re gone,” I said and, before she could say or do anything else, I grabbed her arm and marched her around the garage to the parking lot.
“I don’t want to leave!” she screeched, as we reached her car.
“Why would you say something like that?” I shouted. “You don’t even know her!”
“You were staring all goo-goo eyed at her!”
“So what? That gives you the right to insult her?” Before she could answer, I held up my hand. “You know what? I don’t care. The last time we talked, I politely told you we were done. I’m now thinking polite is above your level of intelligence, so I’m going to spell it out for you. I do not want to see you anymore. I do not want you showing up at my place of business, my house, or my friend’s houses. We are done, Dana. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“You don’t mean that,” she protested.
Not willing to waste any more time, I simply replied, “Go home.”
“B-b-but Dillon,” she whined. Here come the waterworks.
Needing to cut this off, I shook my head and repeated, “Just go home.” Without another word, I left to go find Isabella.
One More Time (MMG Series Book 3) Page 7
