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Chapter Seventeen
Skylar
Putting her key in the door and exhaling loudly, she pushed the metal door open. Kicking off her shoes, she moaned at how good it felt to rid her feet of those death traps. They’re beautiful, but still death traps.
Shuffling her way down the short hallway to the kitchen, she stopped short when she took in the scenery in front of her. The overhead lights had been dimmed and candles were scattered over the dining room table. A single place setting was perfectly placed on the table paired with a glass of white wine.
“Hey,” Dyllan whispered as he walked up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Hey, yourself.” Skylar smiled as she leaned back into him, placing her arm over his. “What’s all this?”
“I watched you all night, and you didn’t eat a bite. All night. That’s not going to fly with me, wife.” Dyllan nipped at her ear lobe.
A moan escaped Skylar as she closed her eyes, taking in the electricity that ran through her at his nip. “I ate.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he growled.
“I’m not. I had some of the appetizers.” Her breath hitched as her tired brain focused more on his touch than his words.
Dyllan spun her in his arms, pressing her up against the wall. He left no room between them as he stared down at her, pressing his lengthening groin into her stomach. “You need more than that, wife.”
“I ate what I had time for, husband.”
Dyllan growled, picking her up. She wrapped her legs around him and hung on as she squealed. He walked to the table, placing her down on the chair with the place setting. He kissed her on the forehead before unwrapping her legs and moving toward the oven.
Skylar couldn’t draw her eyes away from his butt in his tight jeans as he leaned over, pulling a plate from the oven. She hadn’t had time to truly appreciate his body, and she vowed to herself to change that.
“Eat,” he said, setting the plate down in front of her.
Her mouth watered at the smell of the savoury steak and roasted vegetables. “You made this for me?”
“Yes,” he replied simply, sitting across from her at the small table.
“Didn’t you eat at the reception?” She tilted her head as she looked at him.
“Yes,” he grunted, taking a sip of his beer.
“So, you made this just for me?” Tears sprung to her eyes at his thoughtfulness.
“Why are you questioning me? I didn’t poison it,” he asked, confusion written on his face.
Realization that he came home to cook a meal just for her crashed into her like a freight train. Not only did he watch her and notice that she’d barely eaten anything, but he’d gone home to do this. To take care of her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, breaking her train of thought.
“I just—I’ve never had anyone do something like this for me before. You keep surprising me, Dyllan.” Her voice shook with the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. In the short time they’d been married, he’d shown he could be so sweet, so attentive. She didn’t know how to balance that with the jerk he was the other ninety-nine percent of the time.
He grunted in response, “Eat, before it gets cold.”
They sat in a comfortable silence as she ate. She was impressed with how amazing and flavourful the food tasted. He kept surprising her with the different sides of Mayor Dyllan Thompson.
Empty plate in hand, she rose to wash up but was halted when Dyllan appeared before her, grabbing the plate from her hands. “Go, take your wine and have a bath. You’re exhausted.” Dyllan towered over her.
“It’s two in the morning, Dyllan.” Skylar rolled her eyes. She knew that even as exhausted as she was, she wouldn’t fall asleep right away. The emotional high mixed with adrenaline always made it impossible for her to sleep right away. She normally would lay in bed or flip through the channels on the tv until she dozed off, but she had to admit, a bath sounded amazing.
Dyllan picked up her wine glass and placed it in her hand, giving her a little shove toward the bedroom. “Go. I don’t give a shit what time it is. Have a bath.”
Not having the energy to fight with him, she gave in to the lure of the bath and made her way to the ensuite bathroom. He’d been thoughtful enough to leave out a bottle of bubble bath. Where he got that, she had no idea. He didn’t seem like the bubble bath kind of guy, but that was another thing she wasn’t going to put too much thought into at the moment.
