by Jaymin Eve
We stepped further into the space, and I was legitimately speechless. It wasn't just the tree, but the decorations, white and snowy with pops of pink and silver, that filled the twelve-foot tree completely. Maybe it had just been too long since I'd seen holiday lights in my home, but I'd forgotten the way they made me feel. The scene was so magical, like nothing bad could happen in the world at Christmas time.
What a lie that had turned out to be. But no, maybe it was the truth. Ever since my parents died and my world had turned into a nightmare, there hadn’t been any of those festive lights in our home. But now, with Blake gone, Christmas had returned.
"Wow," Mary said. "I mean, when Dylan phoned and asked for permission to set up Christmas for us, I had no idea he was going to be this..."
"Extra," I choked out.
It was extra, but it was a stunning extra most people could only dream of having for their Christmas setup.
"Wait, what?" I said, turning away to stare at Mary. "You helped Dylan set this up?"
She shrugged, flashing me her cheeky smile. "You did tell him not to break in again. He was just following the rules."
Skirting them, more like. But... I was too fucking happy to complain about it.
"There are presents," I said, my throat tight. Stupid pregnancy hormones were gonna be the death of me. But the multiple boxes were so pretty, all wrapped in shades of pink, silver, and green. "It's too much."
This entire day had been too much, but it might have also been one of the most wonderful I'd had in a long time. Only one thing would have made it better...
There was a knock on the door behind us, and I swear my heart skipped a beat or two. Mary stopped me before I’d made it two steps toward it. "Let's check security first," she said, showing me the app she'd installed on my phone. When I hit it, I saw the notification that someone was out front.
Dylan's face appeared on the screen, and he almost looked... nervous as he stared straight ahead at the door, not moving or fidgeting at all, just standing and waiting.
"Had to make sure no more assholes wanted to hurt my girl in the hopes of getting whatever Blake promised them."
Mary was talking and I heard the words, but my total focus was on the most perfect male face I'd ever seen.
My feet moved before I’d even thought about the actions. A desperate, clawing need to see him sent me forward, and I was, for once, going on instinct. When I yanked the door open, he was standing exactly as I'd seen him in the security app.
Tilting my head back, I found myself staring into his eyes, the green like twin pools, so clear and depthless. For the first time, he had no arrogance in his face. His barriers were down, and he was almost a regular guy. Okay, yeah, a regular guy who kind of looked like a god and had a billion dollars. But this was the most open I'd ever seen him, and I wanted to see more of it.
"Hey," I said softly.
His smile was a slow sweep that had other parts of my body responding. "I missed you, little bird."
Fuck. Straight for the kill. That was the exact Dylan I had always known.
Stepping back, I waved my hand around. "Would you like to come in?"
He stepped inside, and as I closed the door, I noticed there was no car outside—or any sign of how he’d gotten here. Knowing Dylan, he’d probably parachuted in from a jet.
Back in the foyer, I noticed Mary had made herself scarce, and if my suspicions of what she was to Dylan were right, it made sense that she’d run. I just wished she hadn't. They both deserved to have this conversation. Maybe it’d be easier for them to chat when Dylan and I were solid, so his attention would be undivided on Mary. She deserved that.
I'd make sure she got her chance, if she wanted it.
For now, though, I focused completely on the man I was stupidly in love with, desperately hoping he felt the same. "Thank you for the Christmas wonderland," I said, wanting to break the silence. "It's so beautiful, even if you are a bit of a creepy stalker, breaking in whenever you feel like it."
I hoped he could tell I was mostly joking about that. He laughed, those perfect, white teeth flashing in the Christmas lights. "You know, if you want to truly impress the female species, there's always a certain level of stalking skills involved."
"Why are you here, Dylan?" I asked suddenly. "I mean, you let me walk away easily enough, so... what is all of this about? The gifts... and the rest?"
He stepped toward me so quickly I had no chance to prepare myself for the onslaught of his scent and the buzz of energy that always crossed my skin when he was nearby. "I already told you," he murmured, lowering his head so that his breath crossed my cheek. "I missed you."
There was no point in denying the truth of it, and I felt like half the issues Dylan and I’d had recently all came down to crappy communication. It was time for me to be truthful. Totally truthful.
"I missed you too," I told him, and the look on his face confused me. He was shocked to the point that I knew he’d never expected me to say that.
Ever.
Like, he didn’t have a single clue how I felt about him, and I remembered how often I’d pushed him away. This beautiful man who had been abandoned by his mother—for a very good reason I was sure, but it was abandonment all the same. And to a super shitty family.
Dylan Grant might have everything, on paper, but deep inside there was a person who had never been loved. Not the way he deserved.
"I think we need to talk," I told him, "seriously talk, about... everything."
"We do," he replied immediately, "but you need to rest. Do you want to wait until tomorrow?"
He looked concerned, and while he hadn't mentioned the baby, I knew that's what had him worried. "Maybe I can do both," I suggested, "if you're cool with hanging out in my room."
Dylan just laughed, and before I could ask him what was so funny, he swept me up in his arms. It wasn't until I was off my feet that a bone-deep tiredness hit me. I didn't even fight him as he started to walk, carrying me wedding style up the stairs.
"You could have just said you were cool with chatting in my room," I told him, yawning.
"Brooklyn Lawson, the fact that you even had to ask that tells me that this conversation is a long time coming."
He was right, and I desperately needed to make sure I didn’t fall asleep before we got upstairs, no matter how relaxing it was to rest against his chest. I wanted to know more about where we both stood with each other. Not just wanted. Needed.
It was a desperate driving need.
31
I directed him to my room, and he strode in, making the entire area seem positively tiny, before he gently set me on the bed. Scooting back, I leaned against the many fluffy pillows before patting the spot next to me so Dylan knew I wanted him to sit there.
"So," I said, staring at him, as he shifted closer and settled in next to me. He was so close and warm, and I found myself leaning toward him, even when I knew I shouldn't. "Where should we start?"
He let out a low breath, rubbing his hands across his dark pants, and I wondered if maybe he was a little nervous. "Firstly, we have followed all known leads on Blake and whoever he’d been dealing with. I believe that you should be safe now, but we’ll keep digging until we’re totally sure."
"Did you find the bracelet?"
He nodded. "Yeah, it was in the hospital. They must have taken it off when you first came in, and it was being held in their storage."
"Were all the plans on it?"
Dylan’s face was serious as he let out a low breath. "That and more. There were a few important documents on there that we had no idea Blake was in possession of. In particular, there was some information pertaining to the Delta vaults that, if it fell into the wrong hands, would mean a lot of trouble for us."
I was near speechless at how open he was being with me right now, sharing secrets like... a couple. "What's the Delta vault?"
He made a frustrated sound. "It's a vault filled with all of Delta's secrets that we've been trying to track
down so we can destroy it. It has blackmail material on all five Delta families so none of us would ever betray the others, among many, many other things. The vault’s last secret-keeper died, and now all we have are a few photocopied pages from Riley's brother's journal to go on for cracking the code—pages that were on Blake's data chip."
These people legitimately lived in some fucked up thriller novel. "Wait, Riley has a brother?"
Dylan shook his head. "She had a half-brother, Oscar. He was murdered. It's a long, complicated, and, frankly, almost unbelievable story. I'll tell you all about the years when Riley first came into our lives one day, but for now, I want to talk about us."
Us. Such a tiny word, but fuck, it meant so much.
"Okay," I agreed with a small yawn. "Us sounds perfect."
Dylan just gave me a slow smile. "I'll start, shall I?"
"Sure, yes, perfect." I nodded like an idiot, feeling my cheeks flame. This was both horrifically awkward and insanely romantic, all at the same time. I'd never in a million years thought Dylan would be the kind of guy to openly discuss his feelings... yet, here we were.
"Brooke..." he murmured, stroking a blonde curl back from my face. "I'm in love with you."
Boom. Just like that.
My jaw flapped a moment as I frantically searched for words.
"No, you're not," I finally replied in a strangled voice.
His dark brows hitched, and an amused smile touched his full lips. "Uh, yeah, I am. Why do you find that so hard to believe?"
I frowned, and acid soured my stomach. "You're not; you just think you should be because I'm pregnant. It's not the same thing, Dylan."
His amusement slipped, and irritation flashed through his green eyes. They were so similar to Mary's, but a clearer green, probably thanks to his asshole of a father.
"So, you're saying you feel nothing for me, then? I'm just the asshole who accidentally knocked you up and ruined your life?" His tone was hurt. Defensive. Still, it pressed my fuck-you button.
"That's not even remotely what I said, Dylan!" I argued, scooting up the bed to a sitting position so I would feel less vulnerable. "Fucking hell, talk about twisting my words! For your information, I fell in love with you freaking months ago. It's why I walked away and deleted your number, you moron."
Now he sat up as well and faced me. "Wait. Let me just get this right. You deleted my number and ghosted me worse than a bad Tinder date because you were in love with me? In what fucking world does that make sense, Brooke?"
"In a world where I thought you were in love with Riley!" I replied, shouting now. "That last night we had together, I wanted to tell you everything. About my real name and... Blake. But you..." I broke off with an exasperated noise, remembering how utterly crushed I'd felt when he took that call from Riley. It had been like the ultimate sign from the universe to get the hell out of there.
Dylan nodded slowly. "But I took a call from Riley and asked you to wait."
I was scared I would start crying if I verbally responded, so I just nodded and ducked my gaze away from his face. It hurt too damn much to see that realization dawn over his handsome features. Of course, that lasted about three seconds before I needed to see his expression.
"Jesus, little bird," he muttered, running a hand over his face in exasperation. "I'm not in love with Riley. I briefly entertained a crush on her three years ago and have since realized it's purely platonic love, just like how I love my brothers."
I puffed out an embarrassed breath. "I know that now," I admitted.
A tense silence descended over us. We truly were terrible at communicating with one another.
"If you were so interested," I started to ask in a quiet voice, then needed to lick my lips before I could finish my question, "then why did you never look into my story and find out I'd given you a fake name?"
He shifted his position, moving a fraction closer to me. "I thought about it. When you turned me down for a dinner date for the third time, I guessed you were hiding something, and I went so far as drafting an email to request a full background work up."
That confession shocked me. "But you didn't do it?"
He shook his head. "It felt wrong. I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. I wanted you to trust me, eventually. Digging around in your private life without your consent seemed like a bad way to start out, don't you think?"
My jaw dropped slightly. "Um. Yeah. Fair point." My voice was a husky whisper as Dylan's information bomb detonated inside my brain. "So, you just planned on wearing me down slowly?"
I still found that hard to believe. I'd spent so long thinking of him as Dylan Booty-Call Grant that it was taking a lot of mental gymnastics to reassess our entire history together.
He gave me a sheepish smile. "I wasn't in a rush," he told me. "I just thought... the more time we spent together, the more you'd grow to trust me. Maybe then you'd tell me why we needed to be so secretive. Maybe you'd eventually fall for me as hard as I'd fallen for you."
Wow. Just... wow.
"But I already had," I mumbled under my breath, still not meeting his gaze despite feeling his eyes locked on my face. "Shit, what a mess."
He gave a soft laugh, then reached out to take my hand in his. "I wouldn't change a thing. It worked out exactly the right way, even if it took us a little longer to get here." His thumb rubbed circles over my skin. "So... can we both now admit that we're madly in love and it has nothing to do with our baby growing inside of you?"
My heart raced and my mouth went dry. That was what we were saying, wasn't it? For all our arguments and miscommunications, the core of it was pure. Dylan loved me... for me. It was like a freaking Christmas miracle.
"Yeah," I whispered, then swallowed heavily. "But we need to establish some ground rules." I finally plucked up the courage to meet his eyes, and my heart pounded harder in my chest. His gaze was pure adoration, and I just wanted to lose myself in the clear depths of his eyes.
He gave a nod, his smile soft. "You mentioned something about rules in your text this morning. I'm guessing you mean more than just not sneaking into your house to leave gifts?"
I bit back a smile. His gifts had been next-level thoughtful.
"I did. I need to be clear with you on this... you know, this thing, between us."
"This relationship?" he clarified for me. "I'm listening."
"I'm not moving in with you," I told him in a stern voice. His eyes flashed with stubborn defiance, and I shook my head. "This is nonnegotiable, Dylan. I need my independence. I need to find myself without being under anyone's control for the first time in forever."
Hurt crossed his features. "You think I'd control you?"
"I think it wouldn't be deliberate," I said gently, "but yes. It's just... your personality. And that's not a bad thing, I wouldn't want to change you for anything, but I also need to find out who I am—the real me. Does that... Can you understand that?"
He stared at me for a long moment, then breathed a long sigh. "I guess I can't argue," he finally responded, sounding unhappy but resigned. "But just because you're not moving in doesn't mean we're not together, right? We can still have sleepovers like any normal couple.”
Those words sent butterflies erupting through me. Like any normal couple.
I nodded, biting my lip to hold back the delirious smile that wanted to come out.
"Alright, agreed. You keep living here for now, and we can date—get to know each other properly this time. And then later...?" He looked down at my flat belly, and I heard his question loud and clear.
"We can deal with baby things as they come up," I assured him. "I won't cut you out of that part. But we have seven months before we become parents. Can we make the most of that time for us? Just us, not the baby."
His gaze met mine again, his lips curving in a wide smile. "Us," he repeated. "Fuck, I love that word off your lips, little bird."
I huffed, quietly loving that he'd repeated my thought from earlier. "Shut up and kiss me, pterodactyl."
He barked a loud laugh, then did exactly as I’d asked.
We kissed for ages, our hands roaming one another's bodies as we rolled around in my huge bed, but two things prevented us from taking things further.
One… I’d just gotten out of the hospital and was supposed to be on bed rest. For the safety of our baby, I really needed to check with a doctor before letting Dylan ram me with his huge dick again.
Two... "Dylan, I need you to do something," I told him in a breathy voice as our kiss broke apart. My lips were swollen and puffy and my whole body ached for more of his touch, but this was too important.
"Anything, Brooke, baby. Anything on this earth." His reply was so heartfelt that I almost groaned.
Licking my lips, I tried to slow my racing pulse. "I need you to go talk to Mary."
He paused, pulling back from my neck, where he'd started kissing me again. "Your housekeeper? Why?"
"Um." I swallowed heavily. Mary's secret wasn't mine to reveal, and I owed her the opportunity to tell him herself. "Just... trust me? This is important, Dylan."
Now I had his attention. He sat up with a suspicious look on his face and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. "Okay."
My brows rose. "Okay?"
He nodded. "Yes. You said it's important, and I do trust you." He stood up from my bed, then frowned down at the way his pants were tented. "Just, uh, give me a second."
I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh as he ducked into my bathroom. The tap ran for a few moments, then he re-emerged looking somewhat less flustered.
"Is she downstairs?"
"Should be," I confirmed. "Probably in the kitchen. She mentioned earlier that she wanted to bake cookies for the morning."
A wide smile creased Dylan's face. "I love fresh cookies."
And with that, he left my room to—hopefully—meet his birth mother for the first time, officially. The temptation to become a fly on the wall for that conversation was palpable, but he'd respected my privacy for so long it was the least I could do to respect his.
He'd tell me when he was ready, I had no doubt in my mind.
