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“You need to get checks done before you know it’s safe to live here, Dahlia,” Dylan explains, turning his head and making his hair fall over his face. “Jesus, has your brother seen this place? Harry’s going to want to come drag your ass back home—”
“No!” I shout, interrupting him desperately. He turns to me, pinning me with a wide-eyed look that says I’ve got his attention. “Don’t call my brother. I can do this, Dylan. I just…I have some stuff to learn, that’s all.”
“You should’ve started learning before you got on that plane. You’re in way over your head here, petal.”
He doesn’t raise his voice, and once again the words are delivered with a gentle edge that tells me he’s worried. The nickname flies from his tongue with a kindness I didn’t expect, sending shivers through me. I bite my bottom lip, trying to think of a way to make this work. I won’t back down from my future or this house just because it presents a challenge.
“You don’t know anything about me!” I raise my voice even though he never shouted at me. I’m defensive and fighting both my attraction to him and my own self-doubt.
Dylan blinks at me. My body heats under his attention regardless of the serious conversation.
“I know that you have no idea what you’re doing,” he starts, then turns away as he walks over to the wall and raps his knuckles against it, testing for God knows what. “And before you argue with me, I’m not saying you’re stupid or incapable, Dahlia. But this is a huge project, one that’s going to take a whole lot of work. Are you prepared for that? For just how much learning you’ll have to do? It’s not too late to sell this place and use the money to travel or whatever it is college kids your age do.”
Indignation flares inside me, despite the fact he’s being pretty nice about it all. Still…there’s a part of me screaminghow dare he suggest I give up before I’ve even started! I am optimistic, not completely blind. I know this place needs a total overhaul and I know that I don’t know exactly how to do that, but I’ve barely even got here.
He hasn’t given me a second to plan anything, and yet here he is casting his judgment on me like he knows better than I do. Then again, I suppose he does know better given his job. Regardless, the fact is that his opinion stings.
He doesn’t think I can do this.
That only makes me want to prove him wrong.
I narrow my eyes at him, stomping up to his side and demanding he pay attention to me. It takes all my effort to do so because my knees go a little weak at the mere sight of him. I’ve never been so riled up, in every sense of the word, by anyone before and I have no idea why he of all people is evoking this reaction in me. I’ve been doubted before, but somehow it feels different coming from him. Like I want to impress him, to have him take his words back and admit that I did a good job.
Dylan is messing with my body and my brain, and I have no idea how to make that stop.
To be honest, I’m not even sure I want him to.
“I’m going to make you eat your words, Dylan Dixon,” I promise with a grin, feeling victorious when the muscle in his jaw ticks, betraying his stony features. I’m affecting him too, just a little. “Besides, I never claimed I’d be able to do this all alone. That’s where you come in.”
Dylan’s eyes flare at that, and my heart does a little flip. God, when he looks at me, I feel like the entire world shrinks around us. He might think of me as just Harry’s kid sister, but I’m determined to make him see that I’m a capable, grown woman. Even if I, admittedly, feel sort of out of my depth here.
“You’re just assuming I’m going to help you?” Dylan asks curiously.
“Obviously I’ll pay you,” I say with a shrug. “I’m not that naive that I think people will work for free. Besides, do you really want to leave me here all alone while I learn?” I fire his own words back at him smugly. I’m grinning up at him as he frowns deeply back at me, and yet the concern on his face doesn’t dissuade me. No, it just makes me want to poke the bear even more.
“For fuck’s sake.” Dylan groans under his breath, running his hand through his hair again, but when he looks back at me, there’s a spark in his eyes. A sigh leaves his lips as he adds, “You’re impossible.”
“Yup,” I chirp back, taking it in stride. I’m going to teach this big grump never to underestimate me again. “And you’re stuck with me.”
4
DYLAN
For two fucking days, all I think about is Dahlia. It’s like the damn girl has burrowed her way into my brain, and I don’t know how to dig her out.
I want to find her completely infuriating, with her bright smiles and insistent cheeriness, not to mention her misguided optimism, but instead, I find it…charming. Disarming.
She’s also fucking gorgeous. And no matter how much she managed to get under my skin with just one conversation, I couldn’t convince myself to dislike her.
It’s driving me fucking mad.
For reasons I cannot fathom, I call my next two clients and push back the project start dates. I really have no choice but to help Dahlia, for her safety if nothing else—or at least that’s what I tell myself. It’s not that I want to reschedule my entire life for Harry’s little sister, but they’ve left me no option.
Yeah right. You’re dying to see her again.
I shake my head at my wayward thoughts as I hang up on the call with a very nice elderly client who booked me to help redo his kitchen, promising me kindly that there was no rush.
My phone dings where I just set it down, and I pick it up with more force than necessary, ready to ignore whoever it is because all my friends know to call me if they want to talk. I’m notoriously bad at replying to texts. Except this time, it’s a number I don’t recognize. Frowning, I open the text, blinking at the screen as though the letters will rearrange themselves.
