The Good Luck Sister (Wildstone #1.5)(23)

They both began to move then and it was so much more than she’d thought possible. Her heart felt too big for her rib cage, her soul too big for her body. And she could tell by the sounds he made, by how he gripped her, that he felt the same as he met her rhythm. And when they finally tumbled over the edge and got lost in each other, she knew a peace she’d never known before. When she could feel her eyelids again, she lifted them and found him looking at her and she knew he felt the same.





Chapter 9




I’ve reached that age where my brain goes from “you probably shouldn’t say that” to “what the hell, let’s see what happens.”

—from “The Mixed-Up Files of Tilly Adams’s Journal”




Ten years prior:



Tilly closed her eyes. “Quinn’s going to kill me.”

“She’s not going to kill you,” Dylan said calmly.

He was always calm.

She wished she had half his calm. “Yes, she is going to kill me. And if for some reason she doesn’t, she’s going to run to L.A. even faster now, without looking back.”

“You stole her car, Tee. You crashed it into a tree and demolished both. I’m not sure what the hell you were thinking, but you must’ve known you were pretty much saying fuck you when you drove off without her permission, not to mention no driver’s license.”

Is that what she’d been doing? Trying to push Quinn away before Quinn did it first? Yes. Yes, okay, fine, that’s exactly what she’d been doing, which made her . . . a child.

Her head was killing her from the cut above her eyebrow, but they said she didn’t have a concussion, just a broken arm.

The ER nurse had called her lucky. Tilly laughed bleakly at the thought of being lucky. She hadn’t been lucky a single day of her godforsaken life.

Except maybe the day Quinn had come into it . . .

The thought made her want to cry. Luckily she never cried. At least not that she’d admit to. “How did you get so smart?” she asked Dylan.

“The smartest girl I know taught me.”

She snorted. “Maybe she’s not really all that.”

“She is.”

She blew out a sigh. “I don’t know why I did it. I wanted to stop hurting. I wanted to be somewhere I’m wanted—”

“Tee,” Dylan whispered, voice pained.

She shook her head, unable to say anything else.

“You’re like her, you know,” Dylan said. “Quinn. You’re both stubborn. Single-minded.” He paused and smiled. “And always sure you’re right . . .”

“I don’t know why I called you.”

“. . . beautiful.”

She met his warm gaze.

“Courageous,” he whispered.

Her throat got tighter.

“Cares about other people like no one else I know,” he went on and paused. “I think you got scared because you’re afraid to believe in love.”

“Well, look who’s talking,” she managed.

Holding eye contact, he set a hand on either side of her hips and leaned in. “You’ve been sweet and kind and patient with me, Tilly.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes from his, so deep and dark and full of the haunting, hollow experiences he’d had in his life, none of which had anything to do with sweet and kind and patient. “It’s easy to be those things with you,” she said. “I love you, Dylan.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as though both pained and moved, and then he looked at her again. “I know you do. And I’m even starting to believe it. I love you too, Tilly.”

Completely melted, she lifted her one good arm and set her hand on his biceps. “Dylan—”

“So maybe you can try to be as kind and sweet and patient with Quinn,” he said. “Because she’s going to barrel in here any second now, frightened, freaked, and half out of her mind.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s how I felt when you called me.”



The next morning, Tilly woke up and turned to reach for Dylan, but his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been gone awhile. There was a flash of a memory of him leaning over her in gym clothes for a kiss, reminding her to meet him at ten o’clock on the tarmac for their flight out to their getaway weekend.

He’d gone for a run. She knew his routine now. If they didn’t have plans to leave town, he’d have come back for a little more “cardio,” where frankly he’d do most of the work because in the early mornings, she was awake enough to be interactive and appreciative, but not enough to take the driver’s seat.

The thought made her smile as she got out of bed and into the shower. That had her fully awake enough that she could most definitely take the wheel . . .

She packed and loaded a duffel bag and Leo into the car. Ric had offered to keep the puppy for the weekend, which she was grateful for. Quinn would have done it but she was working very hard at growing a human at the moment and Tilly hadn’t wanted to ask her.

She parked at the airport and texted Dylan that she was there. Inside, Ric was at his desk Facetiming with a really cute guy. He came toward Tilly with a smile and took Leo, showing him to the guy on his screen. “This little man is mine all weekend,” he said, “so you might want to come by and visit.”