Page 40 of Dahlia Made A List

And then I’d wrecked everything by kissing him. And not a simple kiss, either. No, a long, wet, divine kiss that lingered on my tongue like the taste of a chilled mango in the heat of summer. A kiss that pulled me into his lap as though he was steel and I was a magnet, with no free will of my own.

The rumble of his big, black Silverado broke the quiet and I jerked away from the wall, gaze arrowed in on his truck pulling up in front of my house and sucked in a deep, steadying breath. Warmth flooded me, all the way to the tingling tips of my fingers. I spun on my heel and launched myself out the front door.

He’d parked and just walked around the hood of his truck when I reached him. A million thoughts fluttered in all directions before landing on the only important detail. “I’m sorry!”

Wyatt didn’t break stride, continuing around the truck to the passenger side door. He pulled it wide and turned his dark gaze on me. Still silent, his appraising look hit me like a physical touch, cracking the cement encasing my feet. I stumbled forward, my hand slapping onto the side of the truck to keep me upright.

The warmth that had filled me when I heard his truck turn onto my street gave way to a wave of ice. I’d learned to read Wyatt’s expressions, laughingly labeled his language of grunts. But I couldn’t read the stiff lines of his face just then, or the hard cut of his jaw, his brown eyes fathomless as he stared back at me.

“You got my text?” My voice emerged with more squeak than calm.

He tipped his head toward the door. I blinked, rolled my lips and firmed up my chin. Okay, then. I had this.

“I forgot to make tea.”

“You figured today would be the day?”

His gaze holding mine snapped with sudden humor and the ice in my veins melted. Warmth spilled into my fingers, flushed my cheeks. His stern expression gave nothing away, but the brown of his eyes softened.

I’d spent too much time—both this morning and with every other relationship in the history of my life—living in the rearview mirror.

But Wyatt was different. He lived full-on forward. He made plans, showed up when he said he would, and followed through on promises he made. He wanted things his way, sure, but he was always looking forward.

I’d made a mistake last night, but he’d already moved on. Left the kiss in his rearview. Part of me savored the understanding that I didn’t have to say good-bye to our friendship. But hidden inside the secret place where I kept my deepest desires, I cried at the prospect of never kissing him again.

“One day’ll be the day you have hibiscus tea. You gotta take care of the ol’ ticker, after all.”

“Not today, Killblossom.”

I flicked him a happy grin as I climbed into the Silverado, my heart pounding and a whole new worry lodging in my brain.

Wyatt was different from any man I’d ever known.

But that wasn’t really surprising. What set the starling to swooping in my chest was the sudden, crisp and inescapable understanding thatIwas differentwith him. In the past, I would have hidden away from this situation, avoided confronting the source of my anxiety at all costs. I would have been the one to cancel on him and let myself fade from his presence and shoved all thoughts about mistakes and regrets to the very back of my brain so I didn’t have to think about them or how they made me feel. Stupid, careless, unworthy.

But I’d never considered avoiding Wyatt today. I’d clung to the hope he’d be here tonight and here he was.

Years of dealing with a brain like mine, I was used to the buzz, the non-stop bouncing thoughts. But this time, it felt different. I couldn’t stop grinning. Weston Mill passed by outside my window and I gripped my fingers to control their trembling. But not from fear or anxiety. My fingers trembled with energy, anticipation. Relieved, happy anticipation.

Twenty minutes later, Wyatt steered the truck into the visitor parking at the front of the airstrip. It looked completely different than all our previous visits. Rows of cars lined the asphalt in front of the hangars, hoods up, doors wide, slick finishes gleaming under bright lights. Folks meandered along the asphalt, more gathered near one car or another, with even more squatted out on lawn chairs.

Wyatt pulled the truck into the first parking spot he found in the grassy field and I waited only long enough for him to turn off the ignition, before jumping out of the Silverado.

“Hold up, Dahlia. Let me find out where Kiko has the car.”

I glanced over my shoulder, grinning up at Wyatt as he met me at the back of the truck. “But we have to explore, too, Wy.”

His gaze snapped up from his phone to snag on me. He nodded, putting his phone to his ear. “Where are you?”

While he took care of finding where they’d parked what could be my very first car, I took another couple steps toward the rows. I’d been to the different cruise-ins around Three Corners a couple times with Maia, and I’d loved the atmosphere each time. But this one felt different. Or maybe I felt different.

“He’s out behind Bear’s hangar. His brother drove the ElCo.”

I looked back. “ElCo?”

Wyatt slid the phone into his back pocket and I fell into step with him as he started walking toward the cars. “El Camino,” he said. “Kiko fixed it up for his sister, but she decided she wanted something flashier.”

“Flashy like Maia’s Miata or flashy like new?”

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