“Well, I suppose I’d want to have sign-off for approval.”
“Of course. But you don’t have to hire me, Jordan. I’d gladly do it for free. Or think of it as an exchange for all your help with my trailer. I love fixing up—”
“Hello?” Brandon called from outside, knocking loudly on the door. “Anybody home? I hear voices in there.”
Jordan, closer to the door, reached over to open it.
“Is this a private party?” Brandon asked. “Or can anybody come?”
Dillon sighed. “Sure, come on in,” she called out halfheartedly. “We were just working in here.”
Brandon stepped in and, positioned by the door, glanced around with a doubtful expression. “Doesn’t look like you’re working to me.”
“We were testing the appliances,” Jordan explained. “We’re done.”
“Hey, you changed your clothes.” Dillon pointed at his neat khakis and white polo shirt. “How’d you accomplish that?”
“I just happened to have my suitcase in the rental car. And your mom let me use the bathroom to clean up.” He smoothed his hair. “I feel like a new man.” He frowned at Jordan. “You look a little worse for wear, old man.” He turned to Dillon with raised brows. “But you, Dilly, look like a million bucks.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said without enthusiasm.
“Well, now that we got the appliances working, I should be shoving off.” Jordan stood.
“Yeah.” Brandon nodded. “You better get into some dry clothes, buddy.”
Jordan shrugged. “It’s a good cooling system.”
Dillon got up too, following him outside with Brandon on her heels. “Thank you so much for your help, Jordan. And my offer’s genuine. I’d love to help with your trailer. I mean, if you trust me.”
“We can talk later.” He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Brandon.” His brow creased. “Well, anyway, it was interesting.”
Brandon just laughed and Dillon watched with dismay as Jordan climbed into his old red pickup and slowly drove away. She hoped that he hadn’t misunderstood anything about Brandon and her. Surely, she’d made it crystal clear that she didn’t want her ex-boyfriend around. Good grief, hadn’t she attacked him with paint? That should make it obvious enough.
“So what’s going on with you and this Jordan dude?” Brandon asked. Ignoring his inquisition, she strolled toward the house. There was nothing she wanted inside. But she did not want to remain out in her trailer with Brandon nosing around. He clearly disapproved of Rose, and she had no intention of listening to him pass judgment. Besides, Brandon’s car was parked over here. Maybe he’d take the hint and vamoose.
No big surprise, Brandon did not take the hint. In fact, when Margot invited him, he gladly stayed for dinner. And as if to make up for his bad behavior while painting, he was sweeter than sugar to everyone. But Dillon continued to keep him at arm’s length, almost to the point of rudeness. And when he finally left, shortly after sunset and only after Dillon made it very clear they had no room for a guest, Margot took her to task for her bad manners.
“I don’t see why you’re so mean to him,” Margot said as she and Dillon stood on the front porch, watching the rental car’s taillights disappearing into the dusky twilight along the farm road.
“Because he was an uninvited guest.” Dillon sat in a rocker.
“But Brandon really seems to have changed.” Margot sat down too.
“Seems is the operative word.” Dillon let out a long, frustrated sigh. “This is all just an act. I know it.”
“Why would it be an act? What’s the point?”
“To win me back.” Dillon leaned back in the rocker. “But I just don’t get why. What does he possibly hope to gain?”
“It’s because he’s realized he loves you, Dilly. Anyway, that’s what he told me. He’s missed you a lot. And he really wants you back.”
“It makes no sense. I honestly wonder if this is all related to work. Maybe he promised to drag me back to Colorado so that LeeAnn could enslave me again.”
Margot laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. There are laws against human trafficking.”
“Then why is he so insistent? What’s his motivation?”
“I already told you, Dilly. He loves you. Absence has made his heart grow fonder. I happen to think it’s all very sweet. I can even hear wedding bells.”
“Then you should get your hearing checked. I think the only reason Brandon’s trying so hard is because I’m pushing him away. He’s a salesman at heart. He loves the challenge. It’s how he’s wired. It’s all about winning. I resist him and he tries harder.”
“Maybe you should’ve played hard-to-get back in Colorado. You might’ve been married by now. After all, that was always your dream, Dilly.”
“For starters, I’m not playing, Margot. I mean it. And sure, maybe I always did want to get married, but I do not want to marry Brandon Kranze.”
“I think you’re still mad at him, Dilly, for hurting you. You never got over it and now you’re punishing him. Underneath all that angst, you probably still love him. Remember what they say: ‘True love never runs smooth.’”
“Right. And since when did you become the expert on true love and romantic relationships?” Dillon demanded. “What about you and Don? Aren’t you punishing him? For wanting to get married?”
Margot laughed. “I guess we have more in common than I realized.”
“Maybe so. But I’m tired.” Dillon stood. “It’s been a long day.”
“For me too.” Margot stretched. “Dad already hit the hay. Can’t say that I blame him either. The older I get the more I start to appreciate early bedtimes.” She poked her in the arm. “But you’re young, Dilly. You shouldn’t be going to bed with the chickens.”
Dillon told her good night. While taking her time to walk to the barn, she paused to look up at the starry sky. This could’ve been such a fabulous day. It had started so well. This morning had been perfect, and she’d imagined them working together for the whole day. She’d even hoped to invite Jordan for dinner after they finished the trailer—as a thank-you and an excuse to spend more time together. By now they could’ve been sitting out here under the stars together . . . and then who knew what might happen?
But instead, it had all gone sideways. Her trailer was only half painted—if that—plus she’d had to endure Brandon for the duration of the night. So much for her red-letter day.
CHAPTER
18
After going to church with Grandpa, Dillon spent the rest of Sunday afternoon painting her trailer. By herself. She’d just finished when Grandpa came out to check on her. “Looks good,” he said. “Nice and neat and clean. Are you going to leave it all white like that?”
“No. I’ve got a contrast color for a nice wide stripe.” She used her hands to motion how she wanted it to look. “I won’t try to reproduce the shape of the original stripes. They were so wavy it’d be hard to make it look right. And even though the paint was faded, I could see the stripe was a yellow-orange shade.” She pulled a paint swatch from the top of the paint can. “This is the turquoise color I plan to use.”