Dylan swiped his hand over the countertop, pushing aside Tupperware and platters of cookies, then hoisted her onto it. Her heart hammered in her chest, his rough touch sending lightning bolts through her skin.
He used that rough touch to push her legs apart so he could stand in between them, then he placed his palm on her knee, running it slowly upward. She had skinny legs—toothpicks. She’d always been self-conscious about it, but with Dylan’s big hand wrapped around the back of her thigh, they felt like just the right size.
“God, you’re sexy,” he whispered.
“Don’t use lines on me, Dylan. If we’re going to do this, give me some credit.”
“I’m not. I mean it. You—” he cut himself off, with a whisper-soft kiss to her bottom lip, his breath shuddering when he pulled away.
Dani’s belly flipped, catching her off guard and making her face burn. It was a reflex to being kissed that way. Could have happened with anyone.
Though, they were still staring at each other.
The room went silent suddenly, Dylan’s playlist coming to an end, and she looked over his shoulder at the clock on his microwave.
“Stay,” he said, reading her mind. “It’s late.”
“Not tonight.” She slid off the counter. “If we’re going to do this, let’s not complicate it.”
He scoffed, his eyes dropping to the floor. “It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before, Dani.”
Not your bed. Something about that felt like a whole other thing—getting undressed together, climbing under his covers that probably smelled like that cologne she remembered from the wedding. No. She wasn’t muddying the waters already. “Josh said he’d come over in the morning,” she said. “I’m not going to be here when he does, and I’m not sneaking out of here like a criminal.”
“Like you did last time?”
Her cheeks warmed. “Right,” she said. “So, let’s avoid that.”
Dylan stood silently in the kitchen, his eyes like hot coals raking over her skin while she gathered her bag and fixed her ponytail. He finally snapped-to when she headed for the door.
“Okay, Dani-pie,” he said. “Thanks for coming. Party’s always more fun with you.”
She smiled, his compliment hitting her in that same reflex place in her gut. “Bye, Dylan.”
She reached for the knob, but he caught her hand and tugged her back against his chest. He kissed her again, a weird mixture of lingering lust and something warmer. Friendship. They were friends. Another reason why this worked.
“See you soon,” he said, releasing her.
“See you soon, Dylan.”
If there was one thing that was certain about this arrangement, it was that.
Nine
“Dylan, you’re getting sand all over my floor,” Irene said, swatting him with a dish towel as he entered her kitchen.
If he’d heard that once, he’d heard it a million times. Since Dani had helped him clean up after the party, he’d decided to spend the last day of his holiday weekend surfing and getting a homemade meal at his mother’s house. He tried to do it at least twice a month, but work had been busy and he hadn’t seen her since Josh’s wedding. He’d pay for that today with a list of chores she needed done, but it was worth it. Her farfalle and sausage was a lot better than whatever cold cuts he had in his fridge.
“I told you I was coming from the beach, Ma.” He leaned down to hug her, her five-foot-nothing, pear-shaped frame disappearing into his embrace. The smell of marinara sauce wafted from her apron, making his stomach growl.
“Yes, I just thought you might leave some of the beach there.”
He released her and dropped into a kitchen chair, setting his feet on another. She swatted him again and he set them on the floor. A visit to his mother wasn’t complete without a few welts. She was like an overzealous coach in the locker room. Those towel flicks actually hurt.
“How’s the car?” he asked, rubbing his arm. “I wish you’d let me get you a new one.”
His mother had been driving a beat-up station wagon since she’d moved from the home Dylan grew up in to a small ranch closer to where he lived now. It cost her more to live here and she was on a fixed income, working part-time at a small grocery store that cut her hours every winter when the tourists left town. Whenever he parked his sports car next to her car in her driveway, guilt kicked at him.
“It goes,” she said, waving him off. “I want you to pass on my compliments to Josh on the beautiful wedding. It’s good to see him so happy. I’ve been praying for him for a long time.” She crossed herself and kissed her fingertips, pressing them to the sky.
Irene Pierce had taken it upon herself to be the official fusser and fawner over Josh when Dylan had brought his new parentless roommate home for a good meal one weekend freshman year in college. Seventeen years later, she hadn’t stopped.
“I’ll let him know,” he said, knowing exactly what was coming next.
Three, two, one...
“That will be you someday, Dylan. I’m holding my breath. I’m turning blue.” She padded in her slippers over to the stove, stirring something in a pot. “You didn’t even bring a date to Josh’s wedding. Couldn’t you find one nice girl to invite?”
Oh, he’d had plenty of options—just none who wouldn’t misinterpret being introduced to his mother. And, besides, that decision had turned out pretty well for him. He thought of his new arrangement with Dani, all because he hadn’t brought a date to Josh’s wedding, and had to bite his cheek to keep from smirking.
This was all part of appeasing his mother, though. Pretending someday he’d show up there with a wife and kids. That was why he usually invited Josh along for these visits.
In college, Irene would pepper Josh with questions about studying and girls, and he always had a respectable answer. With her inquisition satisfied, Dylan could get away with being more vague about how he was spending his undergrad days—shitfaced and working his way through the freshman girls’ dorms. Now she could grill Josh about Cat, and smile and swoon over his happy, domestic life. She could get it out of her system because that was never going to be him.
“I was the best man, Ma,” he said. “I was in charge of the party.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Besides, I didn’t want to split my time between a date and my mother. Whoever I brought would be sorely disappointed.”
She shook her head but her cheeks turned red. “You’re flattering me because you want food.”