Page 52 of Dahlia Made A List

A wooden platform took up space in the center of the round building, directly below the large round transparent window in the top. The platform, simply constructed of wood slats and two-bys. I unrolled the thick, weatherproof mat atop the platform for the cushion, then shook out the sleeping bag.

“You’re not staying but you’re setting up your sleeping bag?”

I heaved a deep breath. “Where’s yours?”

She stood beside me then. The fragrance of her freshly washed hair wafting up to annoy my senses. I inhaled another deep breath, sucking the simple floral scent in deep. Not her usual brand, but somehow still sweet.

“Thank you, Wyatt.”

She knocked her shoulder against mine and I finally looked down at her.

“I meant to bring things,” she said, her voice a wisp of sound. “But then the appointment got moved up and we had our lesson and the dinner and then your horrible uncle and brother and then it was time to keep my reservation and I just came up.”

She shifted, her hair feathering over my bare arm and chest as she tilted her head back to look out the sky window above us. “I don’t think you have time to get back to the Gas n’ Apple before dark.”

I didn’t.

Her fingers trailed down my arm, soft and delicate and my skin burned where she touched. When she laced her fingers with mine, I tightened my hold on her until our palms meshed. She didn’t pull away.

“Vida’s mom says you can see a meteor shower this time of year from this part of Sapphire Mountain.”

My heart pitched. The ember in my gut with Dahlia’s signature on it burned brighter, flickering wildly. I turned to her, threading the fingers of my free hand into the waves of her cotton-candy hair and tipping her face up to mine. Her stormy blue-gray eyes stared back, wide and questioning, but not retreating. Her hand rested on my side, a brand I didn’t want to shake.

“Yeah,” I said, gliding my thumb over lower lip. “The Lyrids or Aquariids.”

“You should stay so you can point them out.”

Pleasure rippled through me. I didn’t want to think about the feeling too closely. Did it stem from the idea of spending the night tucked up between her thighs? Or—and this idea made my stomach flip—from the idea that she wanted me to stay?

Maybe she saw something in me. Something my family didn’t see, something I didn’t see. The idea nearly made me shudder.

The truth didn’t matter. I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers, swallowing her little gasp, breathing in her sweet scent, wrapping her up against my body. My mouth open over hers, I pushed my tongue along hers, and my thoughts turned away from what being with Dahlia could mean to lifting her and carrying her to the sleeping bag.

Chapter Eighteen

Dahlia

Thesunlightglowedbrighterin the Blue Ridge Mountains. This morning, even the trees seemed a more vivid green. The soft blue haze that gave the mountains their name on full display as a light breeze wafted through the leaves and over the deck to send my hair dancing over my cheeks.

I tucked a wild strand behind my ear and stole another look at Wyatt where he reclined in the deck chair beside my own. He wore his jeans and a white tee that pulled tight over his wide chest.

A chest I now knew with delicious intimacy. And the chest hair I’d spent weeks imagining more than lived up to my fantasy and did nothing to mask all thoseprettyrippling muscles. From thick thighs to sculpted abs to his broad chest, he was built solid. I traced my gaze up, savoring the thick cords of his neck, the dark beard that couldn’t hide the sharp line of his jaw. The melty brown eyes that didn’t miss a thing.

Ack! I jerked my head back to the mountain view. He grunted beside me.

Pleasure coasted over me. I loved that particular grunt. “Don’t you laugh at me, Wyatt Weston.”

“Wouldn’t dare.”

“How’d you get all your muscles?” I flipped my feet to the side, sitting sideways on the chair so I could take him in without the charade.

His brows shot up and his mouth twitched beneath his beard. “I work out.”

“Why do you sound like some lame TikTok meme when you say that?”

Another grunt, this time with a side of shoulder shrug.

“I’m glad you stayed.” I wanted to say more. I wanted to ask if this meant we were together. Did he want to be with me? He said it was just a fuck. At least the first time. But then he made a bed out of a mat and sleeping bag and made love to me until I was a pile of goo. Only to nudge my exhausted body awake to point out the shooting meteors as they crossed the blue-black sky.

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