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CHAPTER 14
Kylie
“I’m really glad that you spoke to your mom,” I told Dylan later that evening as we relaxed side by side in a double lounger on the patio of the beach house. “I’m sure it wasn’t an easy conversation if you told her everything. Did it surprise you when she told you about Charlotte’s issues?”
“A bit,” he replied. “But it did explain some things and her odd behavior the day she died. It also made some of her rants in her journal make more sense. If things didn’t go her way, it set her off, and she got completely irrational. She didn’t like the fact that I backed her into a corner that day.”
“Manipulators usually don’t like getting caught,” I agreed with a sigh. My body was exhausted, but my mind was a lot lighter now that Dylan had taken that step to talk to his family.
We’d spent most of the afternoon swimming and wandering on the beach looking for shells.
Okay, it was mostly me who was looking for seashells. Oddly, Dylan seemed completely satisfied to simply walk down the beach with me until I was done.
Even though groceries had been delivered to the beach house, he’d refused to let me cook, so we’d ordered delivery from one of my favorite restaurants.
When we’d finished eating, we’d gravitated out to the patio area.
God, how could I not watch the sunset over the water while I listened to the waves hitting the shore? In the most incredible place, with the most amazing man I’d ever met?
We hadn’t said much as we’d watch the sun slowly creep down until it was completely dark.
Our legs and shoulders were touching, and Dylan had reached for my hand, twined our fingers together, and rested our hands on his thigh as we’d silently watched the sun slip down until darkness had fallen.
It may not appear to be the most intimate way to watch a sunset together, yet I’d never felt more connected to a guy in my entire life.
Maybe it was the way he stroked his thumb tenderly over my wrist like he wanted me to know that he was always aware that I was there, right next to him, even when we weren’t talking.
It was a tender closeness that squeezed at my heart and made my entire being ache with longing.
I felt like I’d fallen into some kind of fantasy that I never wanted to escape.
“To be honest, it wasn’t all that difficult once I made the call,” he said thoughtfully. “We were always close. Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I think she was always there for me and just waiting for me to talk. Mum is scary like that sometimes. She might not always speak up, but she just knows what’s going on in all of our heads.”
I laughed and took a sip from my bottle of water before I commented. “I’ve heard some mothers can be that way. Nicole’s mom was like that sometimes. Even though I wasn’t her daughter, she treated me like one. I was devastated when she died.”
“What about your own family? Siblings?” he asked.
I shook my head. “None. Like I told you, my dad lives in Florida now, so I don’t see him very often. He’s remarried and has pretty much adopted my stepmother’s family. He is and always has been an alcoholic, so he calls me once in a while when he’s sober and thinks about me. Those occurrences have gotten less and less often over the years.”
Dylan frowned. “So you’ve never really had much of a family?”
“Not true,” I denied. “Nicole and Macy are like sisters to me, and Nicole’s mom was like the mother I never had.”
He squeezed my hand. “How do you do that?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. “How is it possible to always find the positive in any situation? Is there ever a day that you feel sorry for yourself? Even if it’s only for a little while?”
I snorted. “All the time. It’s not really my natural disposition to constantly be a glass-half-full person. I had to learn to redirect myself out of self-pity and into a more grateful state of mind. Once my mind was trained that way, I guess it became more normal for me, but it’s not like I don’t go there sometimes. I just prefer not to if I can help it. I spent too long being sad, anxious, and depressed.”
“I’m not criticizing, Kylie. It’s an amazing way to view life. But even before the accident changed my life, I was never completely content, even though I was happy,” he said. “And I probably had more reason than most to be a glass-half-full kind of guy. I have a great, supportive family, more money than most people in the world, and the ability to do anything I want, go anywhere I want. Working with Damian on maintaining our legacy with Lancaster International is what I was meant to do. But I was still restless sometimes. Like something was missing, but I wasn’t quite sure what that something might be.”
I sighed. “I feel that way occasionally,” I admitted. “Maybe it’s just human nature to want more, even when we have more than enough.”
In my case, I knew what that something was, and it was actually someone. Once in a while, I did get lonely, but just dating anyone had never helped. That was probably why I’d given up and focused on other things for the last few years.
“I guess I could try getting a worthless hound from a shelter that sleeps fifteen hours a day and is seeking food, a walk, or attention during the other six hours,” he mused.
I snorted. “You adore my worthless hound, and you know it, Dylan Lancaster. Do you really think I don’t see you sneaking him treats or hear you having those one-sided conversations with him?”
He rolled, pinning my body beneath his. “He is a good listener,” he answered huskily. “But I think I adore his owner even more. She’s a beautiful, brilliant redhead with the most incredible pair of hazel eyes I’ve ever seen.”
