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Skylar couldn’t help pressing her knees together at the image. When she was in the city, there were no men like that. Ever. They were all either preppy or business suit wearing jerks that would rather show you off on their arm than do something that was actually fun; that was her experience at least.
Here in Logan Creek, it was a totally different ball game. They built men differently here. She could tell even from how Lila and Kade had talked about their men when they’d first reconnected. Now Skylar got to live that out with Dyllan.
“Should I be worried?” Dyllan asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
“About what?” Skylar turned in her seat to face him.
“You look deep in thought. What were you thinking about?”
“Lumberjacks,” she answered with a coy smile.
“Lumberjacks?” he repeated, glancing at her before turning back to the road.
“You know, the big, burly men that wear flannel chop wood,” she chuckled as she mimicked the motion of an axe chopping wood.
“I’ve got some wood you could chop,” he muttered under his breath. His eyes grew wide for a moment before he smirked and turned to her. “I knew you were thinking about me.”
“Oh, please.” She turned back in her seat and crossed her arms as she rolled her eyes. “You think so highly of yourself.”
If he only knew.
He laughed before turning into a long driveway leading to a single level rancher home. It was gorgeous, with huge windows and cute little shutters. It had been painted a sea blue with white trim. A massive oak tree sat in the yard with a rope swing hanging from a branch.
This was nothing like she’d expected, but at the same time, it was perfect.
“This is your house?” She gawked out the window as they drove closer.
“Yup.” He didn’t offer up much in response.
“Dyllan, it’s beautiful,” she said quietly, not taking her eyes off the house.
“It’s a house.” He shrugged as he turned off the truck and jumped out.
She jumped out, standing as she looked up at the house in front of her. Living in the city, she never allowed herself to dream what it would be like to own a home, let alone something as cute as this. It looked like it belonged on a postcard for small towns.
“It’s just a house, babydoll,” Dyllan grumbled as he stood beside her, bags in hand.
“I never would have imagined this house for you. Maybe a log cabin in the woods, a run-down bachelor pad, anything but this,” she said with a smirk.
“It was my family home,” he said, looking straight ahead.
“This is the house you grew up in?” she asked, turning toward him.
He nodded, staying in place.
“Where’s your family now?”
“Gone.” The finality in his voice nearly broke her. There was no emotion, no sadness. Just acceptance of whatever had happened.
Skylar didn’t know what broke her heart more, that he’d lost his family or the way he’d decided to deal with it.
“Will you show me the inside?” she asked softly, taking a step closer to him.
Striding forward, Dyllan unlocked the door without so much as wavering under all her bags. Following him inside, the entryway welcomed her with coat hooks on the walls and a bench along a short wall. A living room to the left had a picture window framed by white curtains, letting in the afternoon light. White couches sat around a wood burning fireplace, walls and mantle empty of any pictures or decor. It should have given her a cozy feeling, but instead, it lacked the warmth she would have expected from the room. To her right was a dining room with a table and six chairs perfect for entertaining. A gorgeous antique hutch sat in the corner, empty. The space had so much potential to be a warm and welcoming home, and she had the inkling that it might have been at one time, but it no longer felt that way.
Following Dyllan down a short hallway, she found him in the bedroom, placing her bags on the bed.
“Is this your bed?” she asked from the doorway.
