The Good Luck Sister Page 7

  He could think of more than a few ideas, but they weren’t suitable for the situation. The hors d’oeuvres weren’t exactly the burger and fries he’d have preferred but when Tilly handed him something that looked like a stuffed mushroom, he took it and kept his grimace to himself. On a normal day, he’d rather go back to war than eat a mushroom.

  A few more of Tilly’s students immediately moved toward her to gush over her work and one said, “I wanted to tell you how much it’s meant to me to learn from someone like you, who trusted herself enough to follow her heart.”

  Tilly looked flustered. And honored.

  Dylan took a sip of wine—while wishing it was a beer—and stuffed another of the hors d’oeuvres into his mouth to keep from talking. The students were doing a great job of boosting Tilly’s confidence and he didn’t want to stop them. She deserved this. And more.

  He was going to try to give her that more.

  Flush from all the sweet compliments, Tilly looked around the room and saw that many of her works had discreet red stickers on the plaques next to each piece, meaning they’d been sold.

  It was an incredibly surreal moment.

  But more moving had been the visceral reaction of her students. Deep down, she’d known she was competent at what she did. But she hadn’t known that she would make a good teacher, and hadn’t known it would matter. She turned in a slow circle, taking it all in, and stopped when she found Dylan watching her. She smiled. “I thought I’d let myself down, but then you came along and saw me as a better version of myself.”

  “Then see yourself through my eyes, Tee. You haven’t let yourself—or anyone—down.”

  “And vice versa,” she told him, reaching for his hand. “Maybe neither of us turned out how we expected, but . . .” She lifted a shoulder and bumped it to his. “We did all right for a couple of street rats, didn’t we?”

  He squeezed her hand, his eyes lit with affection and love. God, so much love. “Yeah, we did do pretty good. I’ve got something I want to do with you.”

  She leaned in. “Does it involve getting out of this dress? Cuz I ate too many hors d’oeuvres and it’s too tight.”

  His eyes were hot as he slid a hand around the nape of her neck and drew her in close to nuzzle at the sweet spot just beneath her ear. “That first. And then tomorrow morning, I take you away for the weekend to celebrate.”

  She lifted her face to his. “What are we celebrating?”

  “Your success.”

  “And your new business venture,” she said.

  “And that,” he agreed. “And us.”

  Biting her lower lip, she knew she didn’t even have to think about it. She nodded. And an hour later when he brought her home, Leo greeted her with great enthusiasm, running in madman circles around her feet, yipping, letting her know that he felt she’d been gone way over their agreed upon limit.

  When Dylan stepped inside behind her, Leo stopped to give him a sideways stink eye and actually huffed out a sigh that made her laugh. “He’s warming up to you.”

  Man and dog stared at each other in a standoff, neither looking thrilled.

  Dylan took a few steps inside and Leo did what Leo did best. He clamped onto the back of Dylan’s pants leg and tried to prevent him from getting any closer to Tilly.

  Dylan didn’t exhibit any annoyance or frustration. He merely crouched down before the dog. “Look, man,” he said. “We both love our girl, right?”

  Leo stopped growling.

  “Right,” Dylan said. “So I don’t know what your plans are, but I’m just going to remind you that I saw her first. And I’m happy to share her with you, though that offer’s for you and only you. It’s a good deal, I’d take it if I was you. Think about it.”

  Unbearably moved by his kindness to her silly dog, Tilly felt her throat grow tight. Maybe it’d been the show and the emotions it had evoked. And having Dylan fit so effortlessly into her life like he’d never left. Maybe it was all of it, everything, including the sensation of being so happy that it scared her.

  God knew she wasn’t used to that feeling . . .

  She turned away to gather herself and dropped her wrap and purse to the couch. Then she grabbed the bottle of wine she’d taken from the gallery and poured them each a glass to give her something to do with her hands.

  What happened now? she wondered. Could they keep this momentum going and really make something work between them? Was she grown up enough to finally handle him and all the demands a relationship would put on her?

  Yes. She knew she could. The question was, could he?

  Dylan took her glass and set it aside, leaning into her with another soft kiss. “You’re thinking so hard that I smell something burning,” he said.

  She gnawed on her lower lip. It was true. She had a question. Except the last time she’d asked something close to it, she hadn’t gotten an answer out of him. Granted, that had been a lot of years ago . . .

  Dylan waited her out, gently teasing her lips with his and the rest of her by just being as close as he was. She could feel the warmth of him, the strength in his leanly muscled body pressing into hers.

  “Tee.”

  He wanted her to put words to her thoughts, something she’d never found easy to do with him right in front of her. She took a deep breath. “Suppose for some reason that you decide not to do this anymore.”

  “This . . . ?”

  “Us.”

  He looked at her, his deep dark eyes holding hers with an intensity that made breathing all but impossible. He stroked a stray strand of her hair from her forehead. “Tee, I love you. Deciding not to do us would be like me deciding to stop sucking air into my lungs. Not going to happen.”

  The tightness in her chest eased and she felt a warm glow slide into its place. Her throat tightened as well, and her eyes felt misty. “I love you,” she said.

  He went utterly still for a beat, his eyes going nearly black. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She drew in another deep breath, shocked to find she hadn’t choked on the words. “And to be honest, I think I always have—” Before she could finish that sentence, he yanked her into him and kissed her.

  And kissed her.

  She let it all wash over her, the feel of him this close, the way he was holding her as if she was his entire life, and her heart took over the rulership from her brain. She pressed closer still, apparently needing to climb him like a tree. She had a fistful of his hair in one hand and his shirt in the other. “Off,” she muttered against his mouth, desperate for the feel of his bare skin to hers.

  He broke the kiss long enough to yank his shirt over his head and toss it aside. He had all the strength and muscle, but he didn’t take the lead from her, instead leaving her in the driver’s seat. She unbuttoned his pants and he shucked them off and stood there wearing nothing but his birthday suit and a half smile as he watched her take in the sight of him.

  She did her best not to drool, but the truth was she never had been able to get over how beautiful he was, then or now. Although there was something to the life he’d led that had turned a rough and tumble teenager into a badass man that was drop dead sexy. He knew who and what he was and he made no apology for it.

  And he loved her.

  She took his hand and led him into the bedroom. Nudged him until he sat on the edge of the bed. Standing between his spread legs, she began to pull off her dress. He put his hands on her waist, helping to guide the material up her body and over her head.

  “Pretty,” he said of her plain black bra and urged the straps down her arms. When he unhooked it, it slipped away from her body. Leaning in, he kissed a breast. She opened her eyes and met his gaze as his thumbs hooked into her panties and swept them away like everything else.

  And still he let her drive. Happy to have the wheel, she climbed into his lap and explored first with her hands and then her mouth. There was little doubt about how much he liked everything she did—he let her know with sexy rough male sounds and caresses
that had her own breath catching, but still he didn’t take control.

  So it was she who climbed over him to reach into his nightstand for a condom. She who drove them both crazy as she slowly rolled it on. She who finally lifted up and brought him inside her. “I love you,” she whispered again.

  They both began to move then and it was so much more than she’d thought possible. Her heart felt too big for her rib cage, her soul too big for her body. And she could tell by the sounds he made, by how he gripped her, that he felt the same as he met her rhythm. And when they finally tumbled over the edge and got lost in each other, she knew a peace she’d never known before. When she could feel her eyelids again, she lifted them and found him looking at her and she knew he felt the same.

  Chapter 9

  I’ve reached that age where my brain goes from “you probably shouldn’t say that” to “what the hell, let’s see what happens.”

  —from “The Mixed-Up Files of Tilly Adams’s Journal”

  Ten years prior:

  Tilly closed her eyes. “Quinn’s going to kill me.”

  “She’s not going to kill you,” Dylan said calmly.

  He was always calm.

  She wished she had half his calm. “Yes, she is going to kill me. And if for some reason she doesn’t, she’s going to run to L.A. even faster now, without looking back.”

  “You stole her car, Tee. You crashed it into a tree and demolished both. I’m not sure what the hell you were thinking, but you must’ve known you were pretty much saying fuck you when you drove off without her permission, not to mention no driver’s license.”

  Is that what she’d been doing? Trying to push Quinn away before Quinn did it first? Yes. Yes, okay, fine, that’s exactly what she’d been doing, which made her . . . a child.

  Her head was killing her from the cut above her eyebrow, but they said she didn’t have a concussion, just a broken arm.

  The ER nurse had called her lucky. Tilly laughed bleakly at the thought of being lucky. She hadn’t been lucky a single day of her godforsaken life.

  Except maybe the day Quinn had come into it . . .

  The thought made her want to cry. Luckily she never cried. At least not that she’d admit to. “How did you get so smart?” she asked Dylan.

  “The smartest girl I know taught me.”

  She snorted. “Maybe she’s not really all that.”

  “She is.”

  She blew out a sigh. “I don’t know why I did it. I wanted to stop hurting. I wanted to be somewhere I’m wanted—”

  “Tee,” Dylan whispered, voice pained.

  She shook her head, unable to say anything else.

  “You’re like her, you know,” Dylan said. “Quinn. You’re both stubborn. Single-minded.” He paused and smiled. “And always sure you’re right . . .”

  “I don’t know why I called you.”

  “. . . beautiful.”

  She met his warm gaze.

  “Courageous,” he whispered.

  Her throat got tighter.

  “Cares about other people like no one else I know,” he went on and paused. “I think you got scared because you’re afraid to believe in love.”

  “Well, look who’s talking,” she managed.

  Holding eye contact, he set a hand on either side of her hips and leaned in. “You’ve been sweet and kind and patient with me, Tilly.”

  She couldn’t tear her eyes from his, so deep and dark and full of the haunting, hollow experiences he’d had in his life, none of which had anything to do with sweet and kind and patient. “It’s easy to be those things with you,” she said. “I love you, Dylan.”

  He closed his eyes briefly, as though both pained and moved, and then he looked at her again. “I know you do. And I’m even starting to believe it. I love you too, Tilly.”

  Completely melted, she lifted her one good arm and set her hand on his biceps. “Dylan—”

  “So maybe you can try to be as kind and sweet and patient with Quinn,” he said. “Because she’s going to barrel in here any second now, frightened, freaked, and half out of her mind.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because that’s how I felt when you called me.”

  The next morning, Tilly woke up and turned to reach for Dylan, but his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been gone awhile. There was a flash of a memory of him leaning over her in gym clothes for a kiss, reminding her to meet him at ten o’clock on the tarmac for their flight out to their getaway weekend.

  He’d gone for a run. She knew his routine now. If they didn’t have plans to leave town, he’d have come back for a little more “cardio,” where frankly he’d do most of the work because in the early mornings, she was awake enough to be interactive and appreciative, but not enough to take the driver’s seat.

  The thought made her smile as she got out of bed and into the shower. That had her fully awake enough that she could most definitely take the wheel . . .

  She packed and loaded a duffel bag and Leo into the car. Ric had offered to keep the puppy for the weekend, which she was grateful for. Quinn would have done it but she was working very hard at growing a human at the moment and Tilly hadn’t wanted to ask her.

  She parked at the airport and texted Dylan that she was there. Inside, Ric was at his desk Facetiming with a really cute guy. He came toward Tilly with a smile and took Leo, showing him to the guy on his screen. “This little man is mine all weekend,” he said, “so you might want to come by and visit.”

  The guy on-screen smiled promisingly and they disconnected.

  “Are you using my dog as a dude magnet?” Tilly asked.

  “Most definitely. Do you mind?”

  “Not even a little bit,” Tilly said and gave Leo a hug. “Be a good boy and send me Snaps.”

  She made her way to Dylan’s office, but it was dark. In the hallway, she heard the scampering of Leo’s paws and turned with a smile as he raced toward her. She scooped him up, waved at Ric who was on the phone again to tell him that she had the pup, and headed back to the open hangar to walk around. Penn had hung pictures on the walls of the guys. In the military. In South America. Here, with some of their clients. There was even one of her and Dylan. She recognized it as being taken that day he’d taken her up for a flight. They’d just gotten off the helicopter and she was grinning wide, hair going crazy in the breeze, looking up at Dylan with an expression of sheer joy.

  And love.

  It made her suck in a breath. Her body had known it before her brain had.

  Dylan was in his leather jacket and dark aviator sunglasses, looking into her face with his mouth curved, and while there was nothing soft about him, the look on his face was most definitely soft.

  He loved her back.

  It was her own miracle.

  But her own miracle was late. She looked at her phone, but nope. No missed call, no text.

  Maybe he’d changed his mind, a very small, cruel voice from deep inside her whispered.

  After all, he’d done it before . . .

  She squeezed Leo for comfort and the pup set his head on her shoulder, his way of giving love. With a sad smile, she turned to go and two arms encircled her from behind.

  Dylan.

  Relief filling her, she leaned back into him. He nuzzled his jaw to hers, one of his hands coming up to stroke down Leo’s back.

  The pup froze for a beat and Tilly opened her mouth to warn him not to even think about growling, but Leo didn’t. Instead, he leaned up and . . . licked Dylan’s jaw before setting his head on Dylan’s shoulder.

  Dylan smiled as if the affection was simply his due, and Tilly had never loved him more than in that moment.

  “Ready?” he asked her.

  She started to say yes, but there was something in his voice that she couldn’t quite place. Turning in his arms, she looked up at him, but he was wearing an expression she couldn’t place either. “I am if you are,” she murmured, hoping that her earlier thought of him changing h
is mind was just paranoia on her part.

  He smiled, but seemed distracted as he transferred her duffel bag from her shoulder to his, took Leo back to Ric, and then led them outside.

  “Hey,” she said softly, dragging her feet until he turned back to look at her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sure.” He turned back to the helicopter.

  While that small, cruel voice inside her head began to taunt her. You should freak out now . . .

  But she managed to hold it together and in ten minutes, they were in the air. She loved watching him work the controls like he’d been born to it. Clearly feeling her gaze, he glanced over at her, looking sexy as hell in that headset and dark glasses. He smiled, but it was that odd, distant smile, and her heart congealed.

  “It’s okay, you know,” she said quietly. She didn’t have to speak louder, he could hear her in his headset.

  Again he glanced at her, his own gaze hidden behind those dark lenses. “What’s okay?”

  “If you’ve changed your mind about me. About us.”

  His expression went completely blank and he turned his attention back to controlling the flight for a painfully long moment. “Why would you think I’ve changed my mind?” he finally asked.

  “Because you’re acting weird.”

  “I’m acting weird?”

  “Yes!” she said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or just keep repeating whatever I’ve said?”

  He said absolutely nothing to this and she opened her mouth to press for more information than that, but he pointed a finger to his headset, indicating he was listening to something or someone and needed a moment.

  Wow. Okay then. So she’d been right and the way her gut had sunk all the way to her toes made her want to throw up. Since he was busy speaking into his headset to someone she couldn’t hear in hers, she tuned him out and in order to not cry, she took in the gorgeous view as they headed west from the airport.

  It should have taken her breath, but her breath had already been taken. She pressed her nose to the glass, trying to distract herself by playing the game in her head of placing landmarks. There was downtown. The café. Her house. The highway as they turned and headed toward the ocean. She pressed even closer to the window, wanting to see if she could see the billboard her students were designing and she sucked in a breath because she could indeed see it.