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“Hey, now. I didn’t bring her here so you guys could gang up on me. And we could’ve stopped for coffee if this one didn’t take so long getting out to the car.” He nodded his head back at Skylar.
“You didn’t complain about the time in the shower this morning,” Skylar whispered to him.
Dyllan choked on air as he remembered having her plastered against the shower wall, hands above her head as he thrust into her from behind.
“Well, you can have your coffee now. Please, take a seat.” Deanna motioned for them to sit at the four person table.
It didn’t take long for Deanna and Skylar to become fast friends, not that he’d had any doubt they would. In another world, Dyllan could picture them here. He’d shoot the shit with Jax while they grilled on the barbecue and the women chatted. He found himself longing for a world that could never exist. One where their kids could grow up together, pool parties and summer vacations. Maybe he was projecting the childhood he wished he’d had, having a family and built-in support system, but that was a life he wanted.
You have that in Logan Creek, jackass. You just keep pushing everyone away.
As he sipped his coffee and watched Deanna and Skylar chat, he realized that maybe that’s what he had been doing. He’d been pushing everyone back home away for something that would never exist. That wasn’t fair to him, or his friends in Logan Creek, and it certainly wasn’t fair to Skylar.
“I’m going to go mow the lawn,” Dyllan declared as she stood from the table and downed the last of his coffee.
“You don’t have to do that, Dyllan. I can do that later.” Deanna looked up at him with the same look in her eyes whenever he tried to do anything for her around the house. It was a mix of defiance and gratitude.
“I don’t mind. You sit here and chat with Skylar; I’ll be outside.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he turned and made his way out the door. The longer he sat in that house, the longer he would wish for things that would never come true.
Chapter Twenty-One
Skylar
Sitting in the middle of the king size bed, Skylar flipped through the channels on the hotel tv, trying to find something to take her mind off her husband. He’d been on an emotional roller coaster today since they arrived at Deanna’s, and she wasn’t sure why.
Once Dyllan left to mow the lawn, Deanna had filled in some gaps for Skylar, helping her understand her husband a bit more.
“They were more than friends; they were brothers. They were always together, hanging out, and having fun. Even once the kids came, Dyllan was around to help out and be fun Uncle Dyllan.” Deanna sighed and looked down at the coffee in her hands. “When Jax died—something shifted in him. I mean, something shifted in all of us, but he was so lost, so hurt.” Tears filled both of their eyes as the weight of the statement hung in the air.
Skylar placed her hand on Deanna’s. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Deanna nodded before blowing out a breath and continuing. “Thank you. What I mean to say is that they were about as close as two friends could get, and the loss of Jax made Dyllan put a wall up around himself. There was always a little one there, but it grew bigger the day Jax died. I haven’t had the chance to meet his friends in Logan Creek, but he talks about them, and I hope he can let them in, just like he’s let you in.”
“Well, he didn’t have much of a choice with me,” Skylar joked. While she meant the comment to be lighthearted, she couldn’t deny how true it was.
“Well, I’m glad he found you, and I’m even more glad that drunk Dyllan made the fantastic choice of marrying you,” Deanna laughed.
“Me too, most of the time.”
After Dyllan had finished with the lawn, they hung out with Deanna’s boys for a little bit before making their way to their hotel. Dyllan had gone straight to the shower once they’d come in, saying he needed to get the sweat and grass off him, but she knew that he’d needed time alone.
Skylar couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to have the constant reminder of the loss of such a close friend. He was a good man for checking on them, a good role model to the boys—swearing aside—but there was a heaviness to him that Skylar wished she could help with.
Hearing the shower turn off, she settled on a cooking show, only half paying attention as she stared out at the skyline. The sun dipped behind the skyscrapers, casting shadows on the city below as it sunk further down into the horizon. She thought about her own ghosts that haunted this city and her own weight she carried around.
“How can someone be expected to turn onion dip into a dessert?” Dyllan asked as he walked out of the bathroom. A towel hung low on his waist, accentuating the ‘V’ at his hips. Her eyes trailed up his glistening body, water droplets running over his tattooed shoulders. He stared at the screen as he ran a towel over his hair. “I can’t imagine that tasting good in anything that’s supposed to resemble a dessert.”
“Hmm?’ She only half heard him as she openly appraised him.
“Babydoll, you need to stop looking at me like that or we’ll never make it to dinner,” he said with a smirk as he caught her openly checking him out.
“I’d say screw it and skip it, but I’m too hungry for that. I have a husband that hasn’t fed me lately and I’m about to die if we don’t find some food.”
“Well, that sounds like a very neglectful husband.” Dyllan dropped the towel he’d used to dry his hair as he stalked toward the bed. “I think I have something I can feed you that might satisfy that hunger.”
Skylar threw her head back and laughed. “Nope, I need something more filling.”
“You wound me, wife.”
