“No,” I answer dryly. “I told Veronica and Malerie I’d help them downstairs.”
Dylan’s mouth kicks up at the corner. “You hanging out with those two now?”
“Not really.” I run a hand through my tangled hair, hoping I don’t look like I’ve been rolling around on Dylan’s bed. “Malerie had a wreck and I gave them a ride here.”
“Ah. You’re not helping with the party setup, are you?”
“I guess. Jelly Bean Queen will really show up?”
“Yeah. Malerie and Collin know them. Playing in Springfield on Friday and then heading over here.”
“Oh. I’m impressed. That’s a big deal.”
“Don’t tell me you’re into rock stars. I’ll have to chain you to me.”
I give him a skeptical look and grab the boots I discarded earlier. “Not into rock gods, and I won’t be here.”
“You’re kidding. Most women would jump at the chance to hang out with JBQ.”
“Not me.” I shove one foot into my boot and stand to wiggle into it. Dylan eyes my bouncing with interest.
His heated gaze makes me lose concentration and I hobble on one foot. He leans forward to steady me. “Putting stuff on, taking it off...it’s all sexy as hell when it comes to you.”
“Ha. Ha.” I shove my other foot in the remaining boot and he steadies me by grabbing me at the waist.
“You’re killing me,” he says with a light squeeze of my hips. “I’ll help with this stuff downstairs. Then maybe I can lure you back into my spider’s web up here.” His eyes sparkle like a kid spying his favorite toy.
“I have to go home soon.”
“Stay,” he says, pulling my body against his. I’m not a petite girl. Until I hit high school, I always matched guys in my class inch for inch. Dylan’s much taller though, and I love that his broad shoulders and toned pecs are eye level for me.
It makes me feel protected and sheltered—which is idiotic since I really like taking care of myself.
He nuzzles the side of my head. “Say you’ll hang around after we finish helping,” he whispers low.
The sensation of his warm breath makes me close my eyes with dizzy pleasure. “I...um...I don’t think I—”
Dylan doesn’t move for a couple of seconds and I sense a shift within his mind, a stillness. “No pressure.”
He releases me and steps back to take my hands. “Let’s see what they need help with.”
And just like that, he’s leading me to the door. No pouting, cajoling, anger. He’s an enigma in this moment because I think I know the inner-workings of the male mind. It figures that Dylan’s would break the mold.
I follow him gratefully down the stairs. Things seem to be moving so fast.
Malerie and Veronica’s voices drift from the basement game room. Those two have been best friends ever since Veronica moved to St. Louis earlier in the year. I’ve heard bits and pieces of both their backgrounds.
But I honestly don’t know either one of them well. I’ve kept my distance as much as I’ve kept it from the guys. Essentially acting like an impregnable island without any bridge from their world to mine.
“We’re here to help.” I glide around the new furniture and assess the space. There’s a traditional bar at one end of the room and a pool table in the center. It’s tidy, but gets on my nerves with its frat house overtones.
A tacky beer light hangs from the ceiling over the table. To my right is an oil painting that must be a leftover from somebody’s garage sale. The low ceiling presses on me whenever I clean the windowless room.
Both Ace and Collin stand at either end of the bar. Malerie glances to Veronica and there’s a silent exchange of something akin to revolt.
Veronica pushes blonde hair out of her eyes and smiles at me. “We’re so glad you’re here. Those two are bailing on us.” She turns an accusing gaze to Collin.
“Fresh troops have arrived.” Dylan says easily. “What do you have left to do?” He looks around at the new furniture lined against one wall.
Malerie motions to the room. “Veronica and I think the pool table needs to go.”
My gaze immediately swings to Dylan and his horrified expression. My chest clenches in a sympathetic squeeze. “That seems a little extreme,” I say.
Veronica nods in agreement. “Maybe you’re right.” She glances at Collin. “I mean, we’re only getting this room ready to host parties, not change their lives.”
“Emerson.” Malerie diverts my attention from staring at Dylan. “Look around. I’m not saying we need to do anything drastic. But come on. If we have business clients here, then it has to look professional. Classy.” She trails off, letting her gaze flit from the walls, to the light, to the jackalope mounted behind the bar—something I see so often I hardly even notice.
I give Dylan a lopsided smile. “She’s right. You could always rent a place to host things.”
Ace, Malerie’s hottie husband of the year, leaves the bar area across the room to saunter toward me. “I need to thank you for stopping today. Mal told me how you rescued them and missed work. She’d have lost it if it weren’t for you being there.” He shoots a worshipful glance toward Malerie. The honeymoon is obviously still in session.
“If we can ever do anything—and I mean anything—to help you, let us know,” Ace says.
Well, this is uncomfortable.
“Anyone would’ve done it,” I say.
He gives me a doubtful look, eyebrows bunching. “No. You’re wrong. It’s nice to have good friends and we just want you to know how much we appreciate it. So, when you need something just ask. Anything.”
Ace looks at me as if waiting for me to make a request. Awkwardness abounds tonight.
Let me see. I need enough to pay off my university fees, pay my upcoming bills, and hire a hitman to knock off the thug stalking me for my non-existent hidden stash of money. If only Ace were a magical leprechaun instead of a nice guy. “Sure,” I answer.
“Good.” He walks past me to do some guy-handshake-fist-bump combo with Dylan. “You here to help?”
“Yeah. Put me and Emerson to work.” Dylan winks at me and pulls me to his side with one arm.
And just like that, we’re a couple. Malerie, Veronica, Ace, and Collin all beam as if we’ve announced we’re engaged. I attempt to tug out of Dylan’s hold, but this only causes him to hug me closer.
“What can we do to help?” Dylan finally releases me. He glances around the room.
“We need to class the place up,” Malerie says. “Maybe the pool table can move to a side of the room instead of being a focal point. We could move all this new furniture to one end and the pool stuff to the other near the bar. That picture has to go. And maybe get a rug to go under the seating area.”
Collin grins. “We get to keep the jackalope and beer light?”
Veronica shakes her head. “Really? You’re kidding. I can’t marry you if you’re not.”
“The beer light is mine. The original light is in the attic. Just swap them out,” Dylan says.
Malerie continues. “The paint is a neutral color and stays since it’s a rental. We could make one shopping trip to take care of the other needs.”