Page 62 of Destroyed With You

He shakes his head. “An unsolicited kiss with no strings attached.” He narrows his eyes as a playful grin dances at the corner of his mouth. “Protest all you want, sugar, but that sounds to me like the start of something real.”

“Winston…”

He lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender, then pushes off of the swing. “I called Noah this morning. Gave him my new cell number,” he adds, referring to the burner phones we’d picked up in a Walmart on the way to Winston’s parents’ house. “He said things were progressing nicely, but it was going to take an extra day, maybe two.”

“Oh,” I say.

“I told him to take the time he needs. Can’t risk that laptop frying itself. I hope that’s not a problem.” His eyes lock on mine as he speaks. “It’s a small town, true. But surely we can find some way to pass the time.”

“It’s no problem,” I say, hoping he can’t hear the way my heart has started to flutter with the pleasure of knowing that, at the very least, we’ll have an extra day together.

His grin is smug as he says, “I’m very glad to hear it.” He pulls open the screen door and starts to step inside. “By the way, Mom’s making banana pancakes. Should be ready soon.”

“Those are my favorite.”

“I know,” he says, then winks. “Why do you think I asked her to make them?”

He steps inside, letting the door slam shut before I can respond. I consider following, but decide to stay, and I swing gently as I finish my now-cold coffee, a pleased smile lingering on my lips as I try very hard not to think about what might be.

* * *

There’s something wonderfully settling about spending a lazy afternoon helping Miriam in the garden or watching Dale and Winston switch out the battery on Dale’s ancient Chevy truck. And I’m completely fascinated by the catalogs of old movies that Dale has scattered around the living room.

He flips open a catalog to show me. “See? I use these to decide what to order for the theater. Each page has the basics about the movie, plus all the information on how I can go about getting it for my theater. But it’s this here that I love the best.” He taps the page. “These tidbits about the movies they add. Little bits of history to keep you intrigued.”

He turns the catalog so I can see it better. “Who wouldn’t want to know about Humphrey Bogart? Or Cary Grant?”

“I can’t even imagine such a person,” I say honestly.

He chuckles. “That’s why we love you.”

It’s a casual statement to him, but it completely ricochets through me, and I have to work to keep my smile light and my eyes dry. “So what are you going to show next?”

“You’re in trouble now,” Winston says as he comes from the kitchen to join us. He slides his arm casually around my waist, and I lean into him without even thinking about it. “He’s going to suck you into the whole decision-making process.”

“What do you think I was hoping for?”

“That’s our girl,” Dale says, and I have to swallow the lump in my throat. Because I’ve never had this. No close-knit family. No crazy chatter over the dinner table. No lazy afternoons sprawled in the living room with people you love.

When I was young, I’d had no family to sprawl with. And even when Winston and I were in Hades, it was just the two of us. We’d fantasized about a family—about our Michelle and her even more imaginary baby brother—but fantasies aren’t the same. And while we’d come out here once in a while to visit, Hades is a long way from Llano.

At least, that was what Winston always said when his parents or Richie called to invite us out. Now I realize that part of his reticence was the need to keep secrets from them. And, probably, the fact that he had a job to do in Hades that went a lot deeper than his day job, just the same as me.

This isn’t a vacation; I know that, of course. But I can’t deny how much I love this bit of familial time. And I’m secretly glad that Noah’s work on the biometrics is taking longer than planned.

By the time Miriam and Winston get tonight’s dinner on the table, Dale and I have picked out the next few months of films for his little theater. “We can’t do much about when we get to Christmas,” he tells me. He holds up the catalog, showing one page bookmarked on It’s A Wonderful Life, another on Christmas in Connecticut, and the third on Die Hard. I laugh. “I like the way you think, sir.”

“How many times have I told you? Call me Dad.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I give him a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek, and when I turn around, I see Winston leaning against the doorframe, an odd expression on his face.

I walk to him and put my arms around his waist. “What?” He shakes his head, then bends to kiss me. I feel a twinge of guilt, because I know how disappointed his parents will be later when they learn that we’re not together, especially since we can’t tell them the reason behind our years-long ruse in the first place.

Right now, though…?

Well, right now, I don’t care about what will happen later. For tonight, at least, I just want this moment, this man, and this family.

Chapter Twenty-One