Dragonfly Kisses (4 page)

Bella and Lucy had agreed whoever found the crutches got to take them to Dylan. Alone. It had become something of a duel between them. Lucy had ripped up the storage closet and Bella the pantry during the scavenger hunt. They hadn’t found them.

Their failure hadn’t stopped them from babbling about him though.

It was difficult, not thinking about a guy, when he was the topic of every conversation.

Cassie cleared her throat. “Wh-what about him?”

“His name is so familiar.” Lucy’s usually flawless brow wrinkled. Which was odd. Lucy was as gorgeous as a porcelain doll—she rarely wrinkled anything. “I know I’ve heard it before. But I can’t remember where.”

Bella shrugged. “Who cares?”

“I care. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s famous. Don’t you want to know?”

“Doesn’t matter. The guy is hot. Famous or infamous,” Bella said.

Emily selected a slice of kohlrabi, crunching into the crispy bite. “He was a cutie. But he could’ve used a shave.”

“Hell no.” Lucy shook her head. “I like ‘em all scruffy and rumpled.”

“With tats.” Bella laughed. “Did you get a load of the dragon on his left shoulder?”

“Did I ever.” Lucy fanned herself. “I had it draped around my neck. There was another tattoo on his chest, but it was all sandy. And did you get a load of his earring?” She sighed. “A hot Highlander with an earring? Whoa mama.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “I could do without the earring. What was it? A butterfly?”

“A dragonfly,” Cassie said. A tiny silver dragonfly. Yeah. She’d noticed it too. It matched the tattoo on his chest. Over his heart.

Dragonflies were her totem.

She knew the universe didn’t send messages like that, brand men with the secret symbol proclaiming them “the one,” but she couldn’t shake the thought. It was a stupid thought. But it lingered.

Bella helped herself to more cauliflower. Good. She could eat it all. “The guy definitely has a thing for dragons.”

“I’ll have to Google him when I get home,” Lucy said. “It’s driving me crazy I can’t remember where I heard his name.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Emily suggested.

Lucy ignored her. “You know I think I saw those crutches down in the basement closet.” She clamped her jaw shut and stared at Bella. Then, as one, they bolted from the table and sprinted down the stairs.

Emily shook her head. “Those two.”

Cassie chuckled. And then she glanced at her plate. “How, um, long do you think they’ll be down there?”

“I dunno.” Emily shrugged.

“Do you think there’s time to raid the pantry? I think I saw a can of tuna.”

Emily’s eyes lit up. “Oh, please. I’m starving.”

They found more than tuna, and hunched in the pantry like refugees from a weight loss work camp eating Nutella from the jar with their fingers. When they heard the others tromping up from the basement, they quickly hid the evidence of their rebellion and flew into the living room, arranging themselves in patently casual poses on the sofas.

Bella erupted through the door first, triumphantly brandishing the crutches. “I found them,” she crowed.

Lucy crossed her arms and pouted. “It wasn’t fair. She pushed me out of the way.”

“Hey, a girl’s gotta fight for her man.”

Cassie had no idea why those words sent a shard of annoyance through her. Dylan was hardly anyone’s man. Certainly not
hers
. And she really didn’t like Bella’s avaricious expression.

At that moment, Blondie’s
Call Me
flooded the room. Bella frowned and grabbed her cell. “Who the hell could—” She checked the screen. “Crap.” She grimaced and answered the call. “Hello?” It was alarming, the way her face fell. “What? Oh crap. Is she okay? Yeah. Fine. I’ll catch the next ferry back.” She hung up and shot a look around the room.

“Who was it?” Emily asked.

“Kristi. Mom’s had another attack.” She glanced at the clock. “Shit. I need to run or I’ll miss the ferry.” She wheeled on Emily and thrust out the crutches. “You have to take these to Dylan.”

A red tide rose on Emily’s cheeks. She shook her head. “No. No way. I’m not going over there.”

“I’ll take them.” Lucy said the words with a wide grin.

Bella growled. She actually growled. “No fucking way, Luce. You’re not poaching my man.” She fixed Cassie with a pleading smile. Batted her lashes and everything. “Cass. Please. Take these to him for me?”

Heat bubbled in her belly. Oh yeah, she thought, twist my arm. She would love to see him again. Just one more time. “Okay.”

“I’ll go too.”

Bella ignored Lucy. “You have to go alone, Cass. And make sure to tell him I was the one who found them.”

“I will.”

Lucy put out a lip. “Oh, come on, Bella. Don’t be a butt.”

Bella whirled on Lucy. “You’re. Not. Going. Make sure she doesn’t go.” She waved a hand in Cassie’s general direction, but didn’t take her eyes off Lucy.

“You’re such a baby.”

“Bite me.”

They glared at each other for a long moment. While Bella was distracted, Cassie took the crutches. But she had to work them out of Bella’s grasp.

“Damn it.” Bella shoved her phone into her purse and fished her keys out. “This is terrible timing. I know he’s the guy for me. I know it.”

“Really?” Lucy combed her fingers through her long blonde locks. “Because I kind of thought he liked me.”

Bella glared.

“And don’t you have a ferry to catch?” Really? Did Lucy need to smirk?

Bella turned her glare on Cassie. “Go alone. I’m serious.”

“I will. I’ll take them over right now.”

“You do that.” She ran up the stairs to collect her things.

Lucy threw herself onto the sofa and crossed her arms. “She’s such a brat.”

Cassie laughed. “You should know better than to duel with her.”

Emily nodded sagely. “You know Bella always wins.”

But not this time.

This time Cassie won.

Because she was going to see Dylan again.

And she was going alone.

Chapter Four

Dylan stared at the program open on his lap. He’d saved it from the concert, but only because it had Cassie’s picture in it. Damn, she was beautiful, but the photo didn’t do her justice.

She was much more intriguing in person.

The attraction he’d felt for her had quadrupled.

And he had her number.

He was determined to call her on Monday. When she was not around her friends. Maybe ask her out.

Would she say yes? He hoped she would.

Maybe she didn’t know what he did for a living. That would help. He hated the thought his job might be a turnoff for her. He decided not to mention it…yet. Maybe not for a while.

If the connection he felt—and seemed to feel from her—was real, maybe if she got to know him first, his profession wouldn’t matter.

Still—

A knock at the back door made him cringe.

That would be Bella. With the crutches.

He thought about ignoring the summons, but getting around—even in his tiny cabin—was a pain with a gimpy foot. He could really use those crutches. He’d simply take them, thank her and send her on her way.

He tossed the program onto the coffee table, hobbled over to the door and peered through the curtains. His pulse leapt.

It wasn’t Bella.

It was Cassie.

And she was alone.

Holy hell.

He opened the door. Wide. “Come in.” He should have tempered his wolfish grin, but couldn’t. He felt like a wolf. With a juicy lamb within reach.

“Hi there,” she said shyly. “I brought over the crutches.” She held them out, but didn’t cross the threshold.

“Come in.” Yeah. He repeated himself. Because he couldn’t think of anything else to say that didn’t end with “
in bed
.”

And because he really wanted her to come in.

When she did, his heart soared. He closed the door behind her and took the crutches, balancing on them, though they were set for a shorter man.

“Aw, these are great. Thanks.”

She threaded her slender fingers before her like a little girl and said, “I’m supposed to tell you Bella’s the one who found them.” Odd. He quirked a brow, and she laughed. “She was called away and really bummed she didn’t have time to bring them over before she caught the ferry.”

“I see.” He couldn’t have been happier. “Can I…” What?
Kiss you? Hold you? Offer you a little roll in the hay?
“Get you a drink…or something?” And when she hesitated, “You know. To thank you for your trouble?”

“I…ah…” A hungry look flitted over her features. He could only dream it was for him. She was so tiny, standing there. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her off to the bedroom. Tough to do on crutches, though. “Okay.”

“What would you like?”

She peeped at him guiltily. “Do you have any bacon?”

He was taken aback. By her hungry expression…and her request. “Bacon?”

She blew out a sigh. “Bella’s commanded this will be a vegan weekend. I’m really craving…bacon.”

“Sure. I think I have some in the fridge. But do you mind making it?”

“Not at all.” He loved the way her eyes lit up at the prospect. He loved that she stepped deeper into his domain. He followed, getting a feel for the crutches as he made his way down the hall.

“The skillet’s in the cupboard under the microwave.” He leaned against the breakfast bar while she fished around for the pan and then found the bacon in the fridge. He enjoyed watching her putter in his kitchen.

“Can I make you something? Maybe a BLT?”

His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “That would be great. So…” He hunted for a topic. “Bella’s a vegan?”

Cassie shot him a smile. “She’s a new convert.”

“Oh. Those are the worst.”

“Don’t I know it! Of course, fools we are, we agreed. We all want to lose weight before summer. You know…” She wrinkled her nose. “Bathing suits.” Heat scorched him at the thought of her in a skimpy bra and panties. And he wasn’t envisioning a bikini.

“You hardly need to lose weight. You’re perfect.” The words slipped out. He didn’t mean to say them all soft and hungry. She froze and flicked a look at him. Their gazes clashed. Aw, hell. Maybe he did mean to say them like that, because the glance they shared was volcanic.

A blush stole over her cheeks. She swallowed and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “Hardly perfect.”

“Perfect.” He grinned at her, hoping to put her at ease, and was relieved when she responded in kind.

“I don’t agree, but thank you.” She dropped a full dozen slices of bacon in the wide pan. He liked that she was thinking ahead, because when one made bacon, invariably, one never made enough. “I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid,” she said, moving the slices around with a fork she pulled from the drawer. “But I can make bacon.”

“See? What did I say? Perfect. A woman needs no other skills, in my estimation.” Well, maybe one other skill. But he wasn’t mentioning
that
. At least, not yet.

She chuckled. “Yeah. I’m something of a
baconista
myself.”

“Best food on the planet.”

“Definitely better than rutabaga fries and cauliflower pizza.”

He grimaced. “Is that what she’s been feeding you?”

“And tofurkey.”

“Fiend.”

He loved the sound of her laugh. Light and airy and carefree. Musical.

She flipped the bacon. “It’s not bad, the tofurkey. Or the tofu, when it’s cooked well. But it’s not bacon.”

“Definitely not.”

She frowned at him. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll bring you a sandwich when it’s done.”

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to walk away—not even across the room, so he pulled out a stool at the bar and sat there. Where he could watch her. And talk to her. Face to face.

“So, Cassie. You live next door?”

She nodded and popped four slices of bread into the toaster. “Well, I don’t live there. I share the house with friends from college.”

“I’ve noticed there always seem to be different people there.”

“We kind of have a time share. Lucy and her ex own the house. The rest of us kick in to pay taxes and utilities and so forth. I could never afford a place out here…” She trailed off and glanced at him. He could feel it coming, the question he dreaded.
So what do you do for a living?
He decided to ward it off by changing the topic.

“And Bella?”

Her smile drooped. Only a little. But it drooped.
Shit
. He should have picked a topic other than her covetous friend, but there hadn’t been time to think clearly.

She waggled the fork at him. “She thinks you’re cute.”

Yeah. He’d deciphered as much. From the groping and all.

“She’s…not my type.”

“She’ll be crushed.” She flipped the bacon once more and then, without looking up, Cassie asked, “Who is your type?”

“You.”

No hesitation. No pause. No dissembling. Just:
You.

Her gaze snapped to his. They stared at each other for a long moment. Bacon sizzled into the silence.

“M-me?”

Dylan nodded. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“A little.” A pang of pain skewered his chest. “But only because you’re not the type I usually go for and…”

“And?”

Her charming flush blossomed again. “And I kind of like you.” This, she whispered. But he heard. Oh man, did he hear. His pulse raced…to his cock. He felt the surge like a bolt of lightning in his groin.

He cleared his throat. It was clogged with lust. “I…kind of like you too. And you know what?”

Her lashes fluttered. “What?”

“I’m really glad you came over. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Her smile was mischievous and shy. “You haven’t tasted my cooking yet.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I think the bacon is done.”

She looked down and gave a little “eep.” It was starting to burn. Quickly she forked it onto paper towels and blotted the grease, then finished the sandwiches. She set each on a plate and cut them in half before she glanced up at him. “I’m glad too.”

Elation swamped him.