Page 52 of My Cowboy Salvation
“I’m going to go grab some food first. Maybe coffee. Can I get you something?”
“Coffee would be great.”
He disappears around the corner, and I return to the room and the seat by the window. I’ve just got myself comfortable when I look up and find Dylan’s eyes open.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hey,” I repeat. We stare, as if taking our fill of the other. “How’re you feeling?”
“Okay.” She touches the bandage on her chest, as if remembering why she has it there, then rests her hand instead on the bed next to her.
“The doctor says they’re second-degree burns. Will heal with time, but you’ll likely have scars.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
The doctor told us both this, but I wasn’t sure how much she really heard, since she was in a state of shock. The silence builds, probably because there’s a mountain of words to be said that I don’t know where to begin. So I start with the obvious. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I-I should have been there that night. I should have been by your side, making sure he didn’t get to you. I failed you.”
She blinks a few times. “You didn’t fail me. You saved me,” she says simply.
“I shouldn’t have had to.”
She tries to sit up, and I get up and go to her. “Easy. Don’t rush things.”
“I left because I didn’t feel like I had any choice,” she says. “Not if I wanted to protect you and Parker.”
She said as much last night when she gave her statement to the authorities about what happened. And as hard as it was, she also went into some detail about what happened before. Why she ran. It needed to be said, and this time, Beaufort wasn’t there to twist the truth.
Dylan reaches out and takes my hand. “You saved me,” she repeats. “In so many more ways than you can possibly know. You saved me, and you killed Simon. I can go on now and live my life. Finally.”
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow. She’s right. She has no reason to seek my protection any more. She can return to San Francisco, to grad school, to a future as a professional musician. She can move on.
And it hurts like hell. But the last thing I want to do isdemandthat she return with me, return to my house, my bed, my arms, even though it’s exactly what I want to do. That would make me no better than Simon Beaufort. I can’t control her any more than he could.
And I don’t want to. I want her to return because she wants me, needs me, as much as I do her.
Only, I’ve given her no reason to want me. I’ve hurt her repeatedly, pushing her away. Never telling her the truth about my feelings. But that’s over. And although it feels great to know that I’ve cleared the air with my son and can make these declarations knowing he’s aware of them, I would still be ready to say them, regardless.
I love my son. I love Dylan. I shouldn’t have to choose between them.
Her hand is still in mine, and I clasp my other hand over it. “Dylan. I’ve been a fool. A damn fool. I’ve spent my whole life in service to others, doing what had to be done for the greater good. For my son, for his safety and future. For the people here in this town. Up until a few weeks ago, I thought that was all that mattered. And then you can into my life, and from the moment I saw you on that corner, scared but also so strong and fearless, I felt things I’ve never felt for anyone else. Truth is, I started falling for you right then. And those feelings only grew with time.
“But I wasn’t prepared for how those feelings would put me in conflict with my son, with myself, and I pushed you away. I denied them and denied myself. Only, in doing that, I almost lost you. Those desperate hours searching for you were the hardest hours of my life. I knew if I didn’t get there in time, I would not only lose you, but I’d lose the chance to tell you how much I love you. I love you, Dylan, more than I ever thought I could love a woman, and I need you to know that. I’ll fight for us, for what we can be together, if you still want me.”
Her eyes well with tears, and her bottom lip trembles as she processes this. Staring into her beautiful face, I see my whole future there. So I wait, every second agony, fearing my declaration is too late. That I’ve ruined any possibility she could return that love by my shortsightedness and outright stupidity.
Hell, maybe I’ve misjudged things entirely. Maybe she only sought me out for human companionship, connection, and tenderness. She never said she loved me. And as her gaze drops to our hands, still entwined, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut.
She’s trying to find a nice way of letting me down, so she can return to her life. Before me. Before Simon.
Well, if that’s what she wants, I’ll just have to be okay with it. The last thing she needs is to feel obligated to anyone. Least of all me. Even if it kills me.
* * *
Dylan
Finally.
That’s what I want to say when Logan finishes.
