Page 230 of Sweet Dandelion


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I don’t know why, but I feel nervous about him seeing my space. He never saw my room at Sage’s, and it wasn’t very me anyway. But at the urging of my therapist I’ve put my mark on my apartment as much as I can with it being a rental. I know my eclectic, bohemian style isn’t for everyone and that’s fine, but Lachlan isn’t just anyone.

I give him directions to my place and where to park.

He takes my backpack from me, even though I’m very capable of carrying it myself, then clutches my hand as I lead him up the winding stairs to my home.

Holding my breath, I unlock the door, stepping aside to let him in.

It’s a studio, so my bedroom is open to the rest of the place, but I didn’t see the need to have anything bigger with it being Tally and me.

As if conjured by my thoughts the kitten who looks like she stuck her paw in an electric socket the way her fur always sticks up, comes slithering out from beneath the couch with a loud meow. The couch is her safe spot when I’m not home. I had Sasha come by yesterday to check on her and refill her bowls and it looks like Tally barely touched them.

“This is Tally,” I say to Lachlan, bending to scoop her up as he closes the door, looking around. “She’s not usually too fond of other people.” I don’t want him to be offended if she hisses or tries to scratch him.

“Hi, Tally.” He rubs the top of her head. She leans into his touch, purring. My jaw drops. “Traitor,” I mutter at my cat. “But don’t worry,” I look up at Lachlan, “he has that same effect on me.”

I swear Lachlan blushes at that.

“This place is nice.” He looks around at the mix of woods, fabrics, colors, and textures that make up everything. It’s a hodge-podge but it’s me and I’m a kaleidoscope.

“Thanks.” I try to view the space from his eyes.

He grins as he looks at the immaculate kitchen—so neat and tidy because the only thing I use is the refrigerator and microwave.

“Still can’t cook can you?” A grin stretches his lips.

I rock back and forth on my heels, toeing my orange Nikes into the floor—an upgrade from my Vans. “No. I haven’t mastered the art of not burning things yet.”

He smiles, eyes soft as he looks at me. “I can fix that.”

I arch a brow. “You’re going to teach me to cook?”

“Why not?” He shrugs, holding his hands out for Tally. I hand her over hesitantly, worried her niceness might disappear, but she goes to him easily, cuddling against his massive chest. She looks tiny in his arms. “We can do that now.”

I laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, a nervous gesture because I’m still a bit in awe that Lachlan Taylor is standing in my apartment. “I keep forgetting we have all the time in the world.”

He reaches out with one arm, using the other to hold Tally in the crook of his elbow, and pulls me against him. “We have a lot to make up for.”

I look up at him with my chin against his chest. “Like what?”

“Like that proper date I owe you for starters.”

My body heats at the mention of a real date with Lachlan. My last date was years ago when I was a junior in high school, and something tells me a date with Lachlan will be vastly different than going to the movies and having a guy try to stick his hand down my shirt.

He passes Tally back to me, kissing me quickly but sweetly before we can get carried away. “I better go. But I’ll text you the details.” He heads for the door, pausing with it open. “And Dani?” He looks over his shoulder at me.

“Yeah?” My voice sounds soft and airy. I curse myself for being so affected by him.

“Nice collection.”

He tips his head at the collection of books slowly growing on the bookcase beside my TV. With those words, he heads out.

“Tally,” I whisper into her soft fur, “I love that man.”

Setting her down, I pick up my backpack to unpack and put my dirty clothes in the laundry—thankfully my apartment does have a washer and dryer in a tiny little closet. I’ve barely loaded the washer with my dirty things when there’s a knock on the door.

Grinning like a fool, I run to answer it.

“Did you forget something?”

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