“That’s some serious compartmentalizing skills, Beneventi,” she whispers.
“What can I say?” I sip the last of my beer. “I’m a beast.”
The words do exactly what I wanted them to, and Dillan smiles as she shakes her head, a soft curl falling free from her bun. “What about you, Ryan? Why are you working at the flower shop? I thought you were working with Lilah. Rumor has it you were her assistant.”
Bright eyes focus on the bottle dangling from pink-painted fingertips, rocking it back and forth. Stalling.
Everyone thinks Dillan Ryan is the wild-child Ryan sibling. But I’d bet every last fucking dollar in my bank account she’s not. She likes to act like nothing bothers her. Like she’s the life of the party. But I think there’s more to her than she wants to let on. Or she’s willing to let in...
She looks away again, staring back out into the snow, probably choosing her words more carefully than she’d want anyone to realize. When she looks at me, her bottom lip caught between perfect white teeth, those turquoise eyes shimmer with something that looks a whole lot like fear.
What the hell?
“Working with Lilah isn’t easy,” she offers softly and waits for my reaction.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What do you mean? Is Lilah some secret stuck-up bitch?” There’s no way she is. I’ve been training with her husband all my life. Killian is the most laid-back of all of us, and he loves Lilah like he needs her to fucking breathe. No way she’s a bitch. But what else is Dillan not saying because there’s something there.
She shakes her head. “Watch it, Beneventi. That’s my sister.”
Her words don’t hold much bite, but it’s there.
“It’s like that, is it?” I ask as I put my hands up. “Sorry. I forgot. Number one rule of siblings. We can call them assholes,but no one else can,” I offer up as an apology even if there is truth to my words. I’d gut anyone who said something about my brothers or sister. Although if we wanted to get technical, my sister could probably gut you faster. She’s really fucking good with a knife.
“Sure. Something like that. Anyway... It wasn’t like that. There’s just a lot that goes into working in Lilah’s world, and it isn’t good for me to work with her.”
“Cryptic,” I note. “Okay. But the flower shop? Is that what you want to be doing?” Not a fucking clue why I’m pushing her like this. I don’t think the two of us have ever had a deep conversation. Not with each other, at least.
She sips her beer and scrunches her nose.Yup. Piss warm. “It really isn’t. I just needed a job.”
“You’ve got a trust fund. Why do you need a job?” I ask, intrigued. She’s a fucking Ryan. Her dad is a Hall of Fame quarterback who coaches for the pro football team now, and her mom’s books were turned into a Netflix show. This girl isn’t hurting for money.
Her eyes narrow. “So do you, but I don’t see you living off yours.”
“Point taken... Okay. So you needed a job and what—you love flowers?”
Dillan shakes her head. “Nope. Trying to save a little more before my next move. That way I don’t have to empty that trust fund, smart-ass.”
“And what’s the next move, Dillan?”
Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink, and I wonder just how far down that flush goes.
The flame of the gas log burning in the fireplace behind her casts Dillan in a golden glow, and I get the sudden, overwhelming urge to strip her naked right there in front of it, feasting in the firelight.
“You’re going to make fun of me,” she says, a little less sure.
“I promise you I won’t,” I tell her as my voice catches in my throat, the lust fucking with my head.
“I want to open a bookstore,” Dillan admits softly, but there’s more she’s holding close to the chest.
“Okay. No shame there. Open a bookstore. It’s not like we have one on Main Street, so go for it. What else?” I tap her foot with mine. “You’re holding out on me, princess.”
“Jesus, you’re tenacious,” she grumbles, and I grin. She’s got no idea. “Why do you think there’s something else?”
“Seriously? You might as well have just admitted it,” I taunt her. “Come on, Dillan. Don’t hold back now.”
“Why not?” she argues, fire lighting her from the inside, and my God, this woman is fucking beautiful. “We don’t share, Beneventi.”
“And why is that, Ryan?” I challenge, enjoying this.
