Page 125 of Winter Vows

She shook her head. “No. Something good has to come out of all this. Maybe it’s you and me.”

Dylan felt something in his chest tighten at her words. He wanted to believe that just as badly as she did.

“Is that okay with you?” she asked, sounding suddenly hesitant. “I mean this hasn’t exactly been a picnic for you, either. I know it’s stirred up all sorts of old memories.”

“No, it hasn’t been a picnic, but it’s opened my eyes to a lot of stuff. It’s put me in touch with some feelings I’d tried to pretend didn’t exist.”

“Feelings about your son?”

“Yes.”

“What will you do about them?”

Dylan reached a decision he’d been toying with for the past few days. “As soon as everything is wrapped up here, I’m going to see Kit.”

“And?”

“I’m going to ask her to modify the custody arrangement.”

Kelsey reached over the seat and squeezed his shoulder. “Oh, Dylan, I hope it works out for you.”

“It will,” he said fiercely. His gaze caught hers in the rearview mirror. “Because then I have to get back here and attend to some unfinished business.”

Thirteen

The day had dragged on endlessly and Kelsey was clearly exhausted. Dylan could see it in her eyes and in the pallor of her complexion. She never took her gaze off Bobby, as if she feared letting him out of her sight, even though Paul was now in custody.

By the time the authorities had sorted out everything at the jail, then come by to take Kelsey’s statement, it was pushing dinnertime. Her house was still crowded with visitors, most of whom had come bearing food they clearly had every intention of sticking around to share.

To Dylan’s frustration, there was nothing he could do about any of it. It would take time to ease her fears. And at the rate the evening was progressing, it was going to take almost as long to get everyone out from underfoot. His occasional attempts to shoo a few well-wishers toward the door had been met with resistence, so he’d finally given up and retreated to the kitchen to grab a beer.

“What are you growling under your breath about?” Trish asked him, cornering him before he could even get the refrigerator door open.

He frowned at her. “Don’t these people know when to go home?”

“They just want Kelsey to know they care.”

“They can tell her that tomorrow. She’s beat.” His sister studied him knowingly. “You’re awfully protective of her. Do I detect more than a casual interest in her well-being?”

“The man’s a goner,” Jeb chimed in, joining them. “I doubt he’s known which way was up since he met her.”

Dylan glowered at his brother. “Watch it. I can have you on an oil rig in some very distant ocean with just one little hint to Dad.”

“First you want to chain me to a desk, then you want to risk my neck on a rig. Make up your mind, big brother. I’m getting conflicting messages here.”

“Bottom line, I’m looking for revenge,” Dylan warned him. “Watch your step.”

“It’s not me you want revenge against,” Jeb protested. He winked at their sister. “He’d like to wring Paul James’s scrawny neck and he can’t. It’s got him frustrated.” He cast an innocent look at Dylan. “Tell me again about how the man got the jump on you and tied you to a shower rod back in that motel.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Dylan said. “It’s the oil rig.”

He deliberately glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s my cell phone? I’m calling Dad.”

Before he could place the call, Kelsey stepped into the kitchen and Dylan’s pulse leapt into overdrive and all thoughts of revenge against either her ex-husband or his brother fled. He wanted very badly to haul her into his arms, but he didn’t have the right. Not yet. And not in front of his nosy sister and meddlesome brother.

“What are you guys in here fussing and feuding about?” Kelsey asked. “I could hear you in the other room. Is this the Delacourt means of communicating?”

“Pretty much,” Trish reported cheerfully. “Jeb’s taunting Dylan, so Dylan’s threatening to have Dad send him off to an oil rig. It’s the usual stuff. Now that you’re here to referee, I think I’ll call it a night.”

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