Glow (Glimmer and Glow #2)(70)
“Fuck Kehoe.” He glanced at her, his former fire blazing high again for a brief moment. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about how you’re managing at the camp.”
She perked up a little at that. “You have?”
His brief shrug and expression seemed to say, Of course, what else would I have heard?
“We haven’t talked about it all that much. I wasn’t sure if you knew anything beyond the little bit I told you last weekend.”
“I hear things. I didn’t want to bring it up. I didn’t want to overshadow your decisions or progress as a counselor.”
She smiled. “You wanted me to sink or swim by my own merits?”
“Yes.”
She gripped his hand tighter. He glanced over at her.
“That’s all I want, too, Dylan,” she explained feelingly, willing him to understand her point of view.
After a moment, he exhaled and shook his head.
“Is that another thing you’ve learned at camp? How to sway a dissenter so perfectly?” he asked, giving her a darkly amused glance and reaching to put the car back in drive. Alice laughed.
“No. I think I owe that lesson one hundred percent to you.”
*
BY the time they returned to Morgantown, the evening had turned still, overcast, and muggy. Steel gray clouds encroached on the brilliantly lit sunset. Alice thought the dramatic, eerie backdrop of the sky especially fitting for the beautiful, silent mansion perched atop the bluff.
“Is everyone gone, do you think?” she asked Dylan when they entered the house via the garage.
“Yes. We’re all alone. Louise has set the alarm,” he said, pushing in the code on the keypad of the security system. He turned to her. “You go up and shower for dinner. I’ve got to take care of a few things, but I’ll come up and get you when everything is ready.”
“Why are you being so mysterious?” she asked him, grinning.
“Because it’s a surprise, why else?”
Her grin widened. No matter how hard she tried to wheedle a few clues out of him as to what he planned, he was impervious. He just hustled her over to the grand staircase and urged her up the stairs.
“But . . . what am I supposed to wear?” she demanded when he’d successfully pushed her up three steps.
“The less, the better,” he said. He noticed her exacerbated expression. “Anything. Don’t get dressed up. It doesn’t matter. No one is going to see you but me.”
“Then it matters a lot.”
He lunged up the first two steps, cupped her jaw, and planted a kiss on her mouth for that. That kiss didn’t last long enough for Alice before he was turning her around again.
“I’ll come and get you in forty-five minutes or so,” he said from behind her. “No venturing out this time, armed with a golf club or not. Stay put.”
“But—”
She tried to turn around, but he stopped her by facing her toward the staircase with his hands on her shoulders. She looked over her shoulder, and he gave her ass a playful swat.
“There are more of those where that came from. It is your birthday, remember?” he asked, that dangerous glint shining in his dark eyes. He raised his hand over her ass when she hesitated. She snorted with laughter, leaping up the stairs to avoid his swat.
After she finished taking her shower and washing her hair, she hesitated about what to wear, given the meager information Dylan had provided. She considered all the lovely things he’d given her last week. Cinching the sash tight on her fluffy robe, she wandered out of the bathroom to the closet where the items were stored. What would be appropriate for what sounded like a special dinner?
A birthday dinner. It still seemed too incredible to believe. But that wasn’t the primary reason she found the day special. Today was the day she’d told him she loved him.
Several minutes later, she stood up quickly when she heard the knob turning. She’d been reading a Durand annual report that was on the coffee table. Or she’d tried to read it, anyway. Mostly she’d been on high alert, waiting for Dylan.
He walked toward her now, smiling when he saw her tug self-consciously at the tie on her robe.
“I thought you said I shouldn’t dress up,” she said, eyeing him and scowling. He looked indecently gorgeous. He’d obviously showered in another room, because there was still moisture in his thick, wavy hair. He wore a pair of black trousers and a stylish black, gray, and ivory short-sleeved polo. She caught a hint of his clean, spicy aftershave as he neared her.
“I said it didn’t matter,” he repeating, running the lapel of her robe through his hands. He stepped closer, his head lowering until their faces were just inches apart. She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open. It was as if it were her first time seeing him. Her body clamored with awareness. “Your robe is perfect. You might be a little warm, though. We’re having dinner outside, and it’s muggy out there,” he said, his voice going low and gruff. His dark eyes ensnared her. She was intensely aware of his hands sliding up and down on the lapel of her robe, his knuckles brushing against the bare skin of her chest. His mouth hovered just an inch above hers.
“I’ll manage,” she croaked.
He smiled. “Good.” Disappointment spiked through her when he stepped back and took her hand.