How the Light Gets In (Cracks Duet #2)(44)

Without a word he went and purchased a bunch of poinsettias from the lady manning the stall, and before I knew it we were in a taxi heading to his house. We still had all our shopping with us, and it was probably about time I got home, but I was too curious to see if Dylan was right about the poinsettias. I’d become thoroughly invested in creating this perfume and I wanted it to be incredible just as he did.

When we arrived at his place, Conor was out. I set my bags on the floor and flopped onto the couch, exhausted after being on my feet all day. Dylan went into the kitchen. I could hear him moving around and it sounded like he was digging in the cupboards. When my curiosity got the best of me, I finally dragged myself off the couch and went to investigate.

Dylan had some sort of copper contraption all set up on the counter. It reminded me a little of those Turkish water pipes they have in cafes.

“What is that?” I asked and stepped closer to take a look.

“It’s a copper alembic. I use it to distil my own essential oils.”

“Oh,” I said, intrigued. I took a stool and watched as he fiddled around with it, adding water and setting it to boil. “Do you make all your own essential oils for your perfumes?”

“For the initial designing process, yes. Usually, I have a lab to do all this. I’ve been meaning to rent one while I’m here, but I haven’t had the chance.”

He glanced at me for a second, his gaze heated and my chest warmed.

I brought my attention to the copper contraption. “So, how does it work?”

Dylan gestured to the part that boiled the water. “Steam distillation extracts the aromatic compounds from the plant. The combination of heated steam and pressure helps release the essential oil from its microscopic protective sacs. The vapor mixture flows through the condenser and cools, creating a layer of oil and a layer of water. The oil rises to the top and is separated from the flower water and collected, which is the part we’re after.”

I nodded, weirdly aroused by all this science talk. What was wrong with me?

“How long does it take?”

“Depends on the plant, but usually about a day, give or take.”

“That’s a long time.”

His lips twitched at my groan. “Which is why I was so keen to start the process.”

“Well, what the hell are we gonna do while we wait?”

He smirked. “I can think of a few things.”

I narrowed my gaze and tried not to smile. “I bet you can.”

We stayed locked in a moment until the door opened and Conor walked in. My skin beaded everywhere Dylan looked, even though I was wearing a giant knitted jumper.

“Hey Ev. I didn’t know you were coming over,” Conor greeted cheerily as he came inside.

I blinked and turned away from Dylan. “It was spur of the moment thing, but I actually have to get going,” I said and went to collect my shopping bags.

“Tell Yvonne I said hi.”

“Will do.”

Dylan, ever the gentleman, grabbed my coat as I picked up the shopping and was ready to put it on me when I got to the door. He leaned down to kiss my cheek.

“I wish you could stay. I don’t feel as though I’ve had enough time with you today.”

“We’ve been together all day, Dylan,” I chided with a smile, but I knew what he meant. It was so easy to be with him, and I didn’t want to leave either if I was being honest. Still, it was better to go than stay and just want more and more time with him. He only continued to stare at me, all tender and warm. I cleared my throat.

“I need to get home, but thank you for an incredible day. My first Christmas shopping in New York. It was as magical as I hoped.”

“The pleasure was mine.” He kissed my lips softly, and I didn’t want to step back. I wanted to step forwards into his arms and be held and caressed. I wanted to be engulfed by him. I loved his respect for me, but a part of me hated it too. This is the right thing for now, Ev. The right thing for you.

“I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes, love. Let me know when you’re home,” he added in his best father voice. He always knew when to bring a moment of humour.

“Yes, Dad,” I said, chuckling.

When I did get home, I went straight to my bedroom, exhausted. I changed into PJs, sent Dylan a quick text, then made myself some tea. I wasn’t really hungry after the whole pizza followed by hotdogs indulgence. Crawling into bed, I replayed the day’s events in my head, unable to stop thinking about Dylan when he discovered the poinsettias. He’d been enthused, full of life, his entire form vibrating with creative energy.

Then I remembered him buying me the perfume as an early Christmas gift. Curiosity got the better of me and I climbed out of bed, opened my wardrobe and pulled out the small gift bag. I tore away the protective plastic and opened the box to remove the bottle of E.V. My hand shook as I uncapped it and pressed down on the nozzle.

Scent filled the room and I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. My pores tingled, the hairs on my arms stood on end, and every part of my heart filled with memories. This was the perfume Dylan made at school, only better. The scent was . . . sophisticated where once there’d been the naivety of a novice.

It was . . . glorious, sumptuous, a medley of wonder.

Pictures flashed in my head, all solicited from the bold notes of jasmine, the sweetness of the echinacea and the sudden pop of anise.