Page 33 of Aviator
“What?” Dean asks from beside me, and I glance over. Is he. . . laughing? Surely, I must be hallucinating. Dean “The Grump” Tyler doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t smile.
“Nothing,” I mutter. Seriously, can my cheeks get any redder? If this mountain doesn’t kill me, I may be seriously tempted to throw myself off the nearest cliff.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We can go back to the cabin and figure out another plan.”
“I’m fine, I promise. Let’s keep going. How far away did you say the road was?”
He studies my face intensely, and I glance away and back several times under his scrutiny. Once he seems satisfied by what he sees, he says, “Not farther than it was to get to the cabin. Let me know if you need to take a break, yeah?”
I stop in the middle of the. . . woods. Because there’s no trail, it’s just trees and snow and more trees and snow. “Who are you, and what have you done with Dean?” I demand.
He stops, too, scanning our surroundings. “What?”
“You’re being. . . considerate. You’ve been like this since yesterday. Did that hit on the head alter your personality? ’Cause it’s freaking me out.”
This time, there’s no mistaking it. Dean laughs. Not a bellowing one or anything, but a deep, manly chuckle that warms my chest. I’m not gonna lie, my jaw drops. He rolls his eyes at my expression.
“Let’s keep movin’, princess. We can’t waste the daylight.” With that, he continues through the woods like laughing is something he does all the time when it isnot.
I scurry to keep up with him. Despite the awkwardness of the makeshift snowshoes and his injured leg, his long strides still eat up so much ground I have to move double time just to keep up with him.
“Oh, no, no, no. That was definitely a laugh. Don’t tell me I’m finally growing on you,” I say when I reach his side.
He grunts. “Keep dreamin’.”
But I smile to myself because a few days ago, he would have scowled and stomped off at my question or bitten my head off. Does the invulnerable Dean Tyler actually have a sense of humor? Who would have thunk it?
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get back?” I ask to fill the silence. I don’t know about him, but this long without social media or at least a book is starting to take its toll. If we wouldn’t have died without it, I wouldn’t have burned that book. I never would have thought I’d miss the nonstop chatter from my little sisters, but I’d give anything to be in the middle of one of their knock-down, drag-out, screaming matches right now.
I hadn’t realized how much they filled the silence until I didn’t have them anymore. I make a mental promise to never complain about them ever again. At least not for a few weeks.
For a minute, I don’t think he’s going to answer. He doesn’t usually, so I fill in the gaps of conversation where his responses are supposed to be with imagined answers to my questions. But then he shocks me by saying, “Take Gramps out for a steak and a beer.”
What little ice that had remained in my heart for Dean Tyler melts. In fact, the warmth I feel at his response could melt the mountain around us with its intensity. Family is the most important thing in the world to me. I’ll admit, when I first met Dean, I didn’t think much would penetrate the stone in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. But the frown on his lips at the mention of his grandfather clearly means he’s deeply worried about him.
“Steak, no, but a beer sounds fantastic.” I sigh wistfully at the thought of a nice, cold beer. The desire to drain one right now comes a very close second to a nice tall mocha.
“What about you?”
I don’t have to think nearly as long. “Shoot my sister,” I say deadpan.
This time, there’s no mistaking Dean’s laugh. I bite my lip to keep from smiling back. God, but he’s beautiful when he laughs. His teeth flash white beneath his beard, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. It brightens up his face and makes him look. . . almost human. Normal. Sexy.
Jesus,I can’t believe I just thought Dean was sexy.
I swallow hard at the last thought and push it far, far from my mind. Along with the reminder that I’m wearing his briefs right now. “Seriously, maybe it’s a good thing I don’t know where she is because I could throttle her.”
“I’ll hold her arms behind her back,” Dean offers with a half-smile. I could really, really become addicted to making him smile.
For a moment, I forget what he said. Then my brain jump starts, and I say, “Don’t tempt me. But after that, I want to take an hour-long shower with a couple bottles of expensive soaps and body washes. Then I want to eat my weight in pretty much anything until I’m so full I can’t move. After that, I want the biggest, fluffiest bed I can find.” Then I stop, realizing he said something sweet about his family and all I can think about is being clean. “That sounded terrible. Of course, I want to hug my sisters and never leave their side again. That’s a given.”
“I had no doubt. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how much you care about them. You wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with if you didn’t. They’re lucky to have you as a sister.”
I shouldn’t want or need his approval, but hearing the words come from his lips means more than I thought it would. I find my gaze glued to my feet. “Thank you,” I murmur.
We fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence as we trudge through the snow. Now that he’s talking so freely, I don’t know what to do with myself. It was fun needling him when he was so obviously annoyed by it. But now that he’s relaxed some, I fixate on how goddamned attractive he is. Seriously, it’s unfair. And if I were any sort of decent person at all, noticing him wouldn’t even be on my radar, considering I still have a wedding dress on hold as we speak.
Garrett.
