Page 92 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

Her legs and feet are bare, so she’s clearly naked underneath. And his hair’s still wet from the shower.

A number cruncher like me knows two plus two always makes four. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s been going on. What they’ve been doing.

We haven’t even started the courting process. We’re not engaged. I haven’t kissed her. I haven’t fucked her.

Did he lie to me? Because it’s clear they’ve done the latter. Was today a case of him simply wanting his own last hurrah with me?

I make eye contact with her. Her expression is as impassive as his. She’s also giving nothing away. I’m only grateful she’s not smirking. Molly would be. She’d be gloating that she’d won and rejoicing she was allowed to witness firsthand my complete and utter humiliation by doing an Irish jig in my honor. Because that’s precisely what this is.

A humiliating defeat.

It’s game over.

“Grace. Is it you I have to blame for the wi-fi outage?” I smile at her. It’s forced. I know it. Embarrassingly, so do they.

But what else is there to say? What else is there to do? Because I have to do and say something. I have to turn this mortifying situation around so I can walk away with some shred of dignity intact by at least pretending my world hasn’t just caved in on itself.

Say something amusing, Jessie. Make everyone laugh, Jessie. Too late. They’re already laughing, but it’s at you, not with you, Jessie.

“We’ll have it back up and running within half an hour,” Dylan replies dismissively.

Go away, Jessie. Fuck off, Jessie. Can’t you see I want to get back to impressing my future wife with all those moves you taught me so very well, Jessie?

I force another smile before turning and walking away. I want to run. I don’t. I do take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator, though. I’ll be out of sight quicker that way.

My guess is, as soon as they close the door, I’ll already be out of mind.

* * *

“I’ll be homein half an hour.”

“Jessie, what’s….”

“Tadgh. I don’t want to talk about it. The Spanish Inquisition can wait.”

He exhales slowly. “You girls go to Manhattan. Bee comes back bringing a whole load of trouble with her, and I’m guessing you’re about to do the same damn thing.”

“If I recall, Bee never brought the trouble. Razr turned up under his own insane steam. Anyway, I’ve always been the good girl. The one who never gets into any bother.”

“That’s my concern right there, Jay. It’ll be ten times worse if you do bring home any problems as you’ve been saving that shit up for over thirty years.”

I snicker before turning serious. “From what Jaine tells me, trouble’s never left Colton the whole time I’ve been gone.”

He sighs. I know he’s running his fingers through that long blonde hair of his.

“Anyway, I figured I’d just give you the heads-up to let you know your favorite sister will be home soon. If you could let Daddy know, I’d much appreciate that.”

“What do you want me to tell him?”

“That you’ve known I was coming home for a few weeks, and you clean forgot to mention it. I’ll explain everything in my own time. But I’d be grateful if you could just buy me a little breathing space. I don’t want to be subjected to Daddy’s interrogation while he scans me with eyes that see everything and miss nothing. Not the moment I pull into the drive. You know I can’t pull off lies quite like Little Bee can.”

“I thought you said you had nothing to hide.”

“I don’t. But you and I both know he’ll have questions about the Irish. And there are things he’ll ask I won’t be able to discuss. We both know rather than say no to him, sometimes it’s just easier to circumnavigate the question. I can’t breach client confidentiality. I’ll answer what I can. Nothing more. Twenty-five minutes.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll be home in twenty-five minutes.”

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